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kiwixlime · 3 years

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Finders Keepers - Chapter Two

A/N: A big thank you to anyone who has read this fic so far! I have so much planned and I can’t wait to get into it. It’s been such a long time since I’ve written anything I’m proud of, so I’m still trying to find my vibe here. I started this side account on a whim. So I’m hoping I stick with it! Thanks again friends.

The next day in Jackson isn’t as hot as the one prior. It’s still sunny, still warm, but it’s bearable. That could be because today Bay isn’t on watch duty. She had patrol early this morning on one of the shorter routes and now she has the rest of the day to do as she pleases. And what she pleases is to find Tommy or Maria or both of them.

Grabbing her bag and pulling on an old pair of dinged up sunglasses, she leaves her quaint house that’s safely perched at the end of one of the smaller residential streets in town and heads towards the busier area. She knows she’ll find one of the two Millers she’s looking for…or three, now that Joel’s in town.

Tucked securely under her arm is the comic Joel had mentioned yesterday, the one he spent months or whatever, trekking across the states, looking for. She’s feeling pretty proud of herself and a little guilty that she’s been hoarding two of these bad boys for so long, but these days, you take what you can, when you can. You never know what could possibly come in handy or save your life.

The main square of Jackson is a bit of a walk for Bay, who chose a house further out for privacy reasons. But she doesn’t mind. She takes her time, enjoying the warm sunshine that envelops her body. It’s a pleasant feeling and she’s better prepared today wearing a baggy, white tank top and jeans that aren’t as tight. Last night after her shift she was able to finish up her laundry, realizing comfort is incredibly important for long, mundane jobs. Something she knows, but ignores a lot of the time.

She passes a few houses once she turns the corner, smiling to herself as she sees families out on their porches, reading or knitting or just sitting around and drinking fresh lemonade. She offers a wave to a little kid who sits on the sidewalk while his parents watch him play. He beams up at her, his two front teeth missing and she can’t help but smile. Seeing these moments, these silent and microscopic moments of normality, make her heart swell. She’ll never admit it, not to anyone, but under that hard shell, she still has parts of her that are soft, that care.

She hums to herself, bringing her hand back down and shoving it in her pocket. She tightens her grip on the comic book and picks up the pace, making a jog for the square. Once she’s in the bustle of things, it doesn’t take long for her to reach the Tipsy Bison, knowing that inside Maria or Tommy await. She takes one glance around, admiring the view, before opening the door and slipping through.

Her eyes do a quick scan across the room and she finds Maria sitting at a table surrounded by Bonnie and a few other girls. Tommy has to be around somewhere, so Bay easily maneuvers through bodies until the group is in her view. She offers a smile and quick wave and Maria nods. Bonnie looks up, distracted, and sees Bay. She says a few quick words to Maria before moving on, giving Bay a simple squeeze on the shoulder and quiet “hey” as she walks by.

“Hey, girl,” Maria says, kicking a chair out with her foot, an invitation for Bay to sit. She’s in the middle of eating, but as the leader of a community, she never really gets breaks for herself, so she’s used to interruptions. “You lookin’ for me or Tommy?” She asks as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

Bay takes a seat, removing the sunglasses and pushing them back to keep her hair in place. She’s still holding the comic book tight. She had wrapped it in a paper bag before leaving to keep it safe. It’s sort of like gold to her. Must protect it at all times.

“Either,” Bay shrugs. “I have something.” She says, referring to the comic she gently places down onto the table. “It was, uh, a request, actually.” She bites her lip.

Maria raises an eyebrow, Bay’s mannerisms have her interest piqued. She lifts a finger, beckoning to her right and seconds later, Tommy appears. Just like that. Bay has to hide a giggle at Tommy’s eagerness. It’s sweet, though. The man glances between the two women before him and takes a seat next to his wife.

“Ladies,” is all he says, waiting for someone to speak first.

So not to stall any longer, Bay pipes up. She smiles, tapping rhythmically on the table top with her fingers. Her other hand reaches up briefly to toy with the ring that sits on a chain around her neck, smiling softly to herself. “Tommy,” she says, getting to the point. “I was wondering where I could find your brother?”

The mood changes in an instant and Bay pretends not to notice, glancing around as she takes a sip from the drink Maria was slowly nursing before Bay sat down. When she brings her eyes back to the duo, she notices that Tommy is frowning. “You’re looking for Joel?” He asks. “Why?”

“I want to jump his bones, obviously,” Bay deadpans, rolling her eyes and stealing a few vegetables off of Maria’s plate. The other woman lets out a laugh, a hard laugh, and Tommy’s face pales.

“W-what?” He stutters, eyes moving from Bay to Maria in total confusion. He’s trying to play it cool, but his brain can’t quite seem to get on the same page as his mouth. “I, uh--”

Bay nods and leans back into her chair. She licks her lips and crosses her arms, waiting for Tommy to answer her. Next to him, Maria can barely contain her laughter.

After the longest minute ever, deciding poor Tommy had had enough tormenting, Bay finally speaks up. “Relax,” she says. “I’m fucking with you,” she grins, though she keeps to herself that she really wouldn’t mind doing exactly that to Joel. She wonders just how big his hands are…how that beard would feel against her soft skin. Nope, she thinks. Stop that. You cannot picture those things right now.

“Oh,” Tommy breathes out a sigh of relief and Bay nods, pushing those former thoughts to the back of her mind, saving them for another day. Possibly later tonight.

“So?” Bay clears her throat. “Where can I find him?” She asks again.

“Can I ask why you’re looking for my brother?” He asks, really needing to know the answer, the real answer. “I didn’t even know you knew him.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bay shrugs and takes another sip of Maria’s drink. The other woman just smiles and orders another. “He stalked me yesterday. Asked me for a favor for that girl, what’s her name, Ellie?”

“Oh, right!” Tommy says as something in his mind clicks. “I totally forgot he asked me about that. Yeah, yeah. You found something already?” He asks, impressed by the quickness that Bay seems to have exhibited.

“It was a comic,” she says simply, “I already had it in my stash, so…”

“So you’re giving my brother something from your own personal stash?” He asks knowing how protective Bay is over her possessions. She’s always keeping her shit locked up, asking her about her personal belongings is like pulling teeth. And yet…

“No,” she laughs, as if it’s the most idiotic thing she’s ever heard. “I’m giving him a duplicate of something in my stash,” she explains. “So he can give it to Ellie. I’ve had it for months, it's really not a big deal.” Bay gives her best smile. She means it, she really does. She doesn’t know anything about Joel or Ellie, but just the vibes she got from both of them yesterday…she wanted to do this.

Tommy sighs and his body tenses a little. He looks over at Maria and she nods her head in approval. They have a brief, mental conversation and he finally relaxes. “He lives over on Rancher, end of the street.” He says.

“Thank you,” Bay says with a smile. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She teases. Tommy grunts and Maria pats his shoulder, giving her a wink. “Well, I’m gonna go make my delivery. I’ll see you later.” She grabs the paper bag from the table and stands, holding it close to her body once again.

Tommy doesn’t look happy about the situation, but that’s just the protective side of him. He gets that way with a lot of people he cares about. And Bay knows that. “Don’t worry,” she sighs, walking up to him and pecking his cheek. “You’re still my second favorite Miller.”

“Excuse me,” Tommy scoffs, pulling away from Bay’s warm embrace. “Who the hell is your first?”

“Your wife,” she states matter-of-factly. “Duh.”

Maria smiles and gives Bay a tight hug before she leaves. They wait until she disappears in the crowd before speaking again, Maria turning to Tommy and sliding a comforting arm over his shoulders. She holds him close and kisses the side of his head.

“Do we need to talk about this?” Maria asks Tommy. An unreadable look hides in her eyes sending a slight panic through Tommy’s veins.

“N-no, Maria,” He rushes out, heart beating incredibly fast, palms already glazing with sweat. His eyes search hers in a panic and then she smiles, a big, bright smile.

She’s fucking with him, too.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, relief and stress all in one. “The two of you.” He shakes his head and sits back down. His knees feel weak as they hit the chair.

“I get it,” she says softly, slipping her hand into his as she joins him back at the table. “There’s history there.” She whispers, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You know I had a boyfriend before you, too. I still make sure to look out for him,” she reasons.

“I know,” Tommy says, lacing their fingers together. He appreciates her warmness and how understanding she is. “Just weird to think about,” he says. “But I love you, Maria.” He brings their clasped hands to his lips, gently kissing each of her knuckles with care.

She grins. “I love you, too, Tommy.”

--*--

“Damn,” Bay whispers to herself once she reaches Joel’s house. It’s a lot bigger than she imagined, but that shouldn’t surprise her. When she first arrived in Jackson, Tommy and Maria tried to put her up in a nice house, two stories, four bedrooms, spacious backyard. A lot of the places in Jackson were beautiful like that, but Bay’s only one person. She doesn’t need anything that big.

Still, it’s a beautiful house and for a second, she’s jealous.

“Here goes nothing,” she says, jogging up the few stairs that lead to Joel’s porch. A gentle breeze blows through and she turns as she hears the tolling of a wind chime. It takes her back for a second, her mind playing a second long montage of a similar sound from her childhood. She blinks back the burning in her eyes and glances at the wind chime one more time. Strange.

Once she composes herself, she brings a hand up, knuckles tapping against the door just loud enough to be heard. It takes only a couple of seconds for the door to open and Bay steps back, holding in a sigh. Joel stands before her, leaning against the door frame in confusion. He wasn’t expecting visitors already.

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, shamelessly letting her eyes rake over the man in front of her. At this moment she’s thankful she’s wearing sunglasses so Joel can’t see just what her eyes are doing. She feels herself blush, knowing she should be saying something instead of staring intensely at the poor guy. Clearing her throat, she once again pushes the sunglasses from her face, letting her eyes adjust to the natural light.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek as she blinks a few times, looking up at him with bright eyes. There’s something about those eyes that just makes his heart lurch in his chest. It’s a weird feeling and he’s not exactly sure how to feel about it. He breaks his gaze from hers and let’s it fall to the paper bag under her arm. He tilts his head.

“Bay? What are you doing here?”

She grins, moving her arm and pulling the comic out from under. “Special delivery for Mr. Miller,” she jokes.

He lets out an involuntary grunt and covers it quickly with a cough. Stepping aside, he opens the door the rest of the way, making room for Bay to enter. She accepts and brushes past him, a shot of electricity sparking through his veins at the limited contact. He definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Holy shit,” Bay comments, interrupting his thoughts, something he’s thankful for. He frowns and follows her eyes, which are now sweeping across his living room with interest. “I mean, I could tell from the outside this place was huge, but now?” She stops spinning, her focus back on Joel. “There’s so much room in here!”

Joel laughs, but it’s quiet. He had a similar thought when Tommy showed him this place. He didn’t have nearly enough possessions to fill this house, but his brother and Maria insisted. Plus, they told him he could fill it as time went on. So he agreed.

“Guess being related to the most powerful couple in Jackson has its perks,” Bay quips. She’s still smiling, so Joel doesn’t take offense to it.

“You tellin’ me you don’t have a house as nice as this?” Joel asks, his voice deep and gravely and so fucking nice. “Aren’t ya like Maria’s secondhand?”

“I opted for small,” Bay admits shyly. “I don’t want a lot.”

Joel nods in understanding. He didn’t want much at first, either. But with Ellie around, he wanted her to have everything. Even if she chooses to stay in the garage. At least she’s close by.

“You have something for me?” Joel asks, changing the subject. His eyes glance to the package Bay is holding.

“Oh, right,” Bay hands it over to him. “Yesterday, you mentioned a comic you were looking for. I told you I could find it. It was easy, actually. I already had it.” She shrugs and turns away from Joel, taking in the view of his house again. Wow.

Behind her, Joel excitedly tears open the paper bag, large fingers destroying the safe packaging Bay had used. His eyes light up the second he sees the plastic cover and he gently removes the rest of the paper. He holds it up, mouth slightly ajar in awe. Tips of his fingers dance across the title, Liberation of Pluto: Silver Edition. In the corner, surrounded by a bubble, the numbers 36/50 pop out in a bright purple color.

“I--” He starts, but words escape him. He’s completely stunned. “Shit,” he breathes. “I can’t believe you had this…” His gaze flicks up to meet Bay’s, the smile on her face is bright, showing off her teeth.

“I had two,” she says. “Number 43 out of 50 and number 36 out of 50.” She stands awkwardly, waiting for Joel to do something. “I didn’t need them both. I like the series, so I wanted one. But I took the other in case it came down to life or death, you know? I’ve traded weirder things to get out of a jam.” She laughs.

“Thank you,” he beams. “Seriously, Ellie is gonna be…she’ll be ecstatic.” He takes a few strides forward and wraps Bay in for a hug. She freezes immediately, unsure of what to do. And he notices. The hug ends just as quickly as it began. He pulls away stiffly, taking a few steps back and creating a necessary distance. He doesn’t know why he did that. He never does that. That’s not his style. Just…he’s feeling so many things right now; he’s overwhelmed.

“You’re welcome,” Bay says, cutting the silence. “Happy to do it. You’ll have to wait for the coffee, though,” she cracks.

He breathes out a sigh and lets himself chuckle. “I would wait forever for coffee,” he says. “Been too damn long.”

“Well,” Bay says. “Worry not. I’ll have it for you eventually.”

“Appreciate it,” he responds and a silence falls over them again. Joel moves and takes a seat on the couch behind Bay. He sets the comic down safely on the end table and sighs. “You can sit,” he tells Bay, who is still just standing there, hands in her pockets.

“O-okay,” she stutters and chooses a chair that’s opposite Joel. Nervously, she reaches for the chain around her neck. Her fingers grip at the ring that hangs on it and she tugs it forward, bringing it to her lips. It’s a habit she’s had even since before outbreak day.

Joel notices and eyes her curiously. It’s the first time since she’s been there that he’s even noticed the ring. It’s big, bulky, with writing on the band. In the middle, a sapphire stone sits. The only reason he knows that is because he has the same birthstone.

It’s a class ring.

“That from your boyfriend or somethin’?” Joel grunts, nodding to the piece of jewelry rolling between her fingers. He fights the urge to roll his eyes. That was such a stupid tradition back in the day. He can’t imagine people still doing it now, especially in a post-apocalyptic world.

Bay’s breath catches and she stops, dropping the ring so it falls against her chest. Her cheeks burn, but not because she’s embarrassed. No, she’s angry. Her eyes snap up and she glowers at Joel, sitting there all smug.

Her face pulls into a scowl and her teeth grind in irritation. She digs her nails into the cushion on the chair and pushes herself up. Angrily, she towers over Joel. “No,” she snaps, venom dripping in the single word.

Confused, Joel stands. He’s so much taller than her it would be intimidating if she weren’t so pissed. “Really?” He asks like he doesn’t believe her.

“Really,” she hisses. “I’m late,” she says and pushes past him to the front door, her bag sliding down her shoulder. She hassles with it for a second before giving up and storming off.

“Hey, wait,” Joel says, following her outside. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Me?” Bay huffs, whipping around so she’s facing Joel. She puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back, out of her personal space. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Her chest heaves as she tries to keep her breath steady. What she really wants to do is scream. She has to get out of here.

“You’re really gonna throw some kinda tantrum ‘cause I asked about a fuckin’ ring?” He drawls. “My apologies to your boyfriend.”

“It’s not from my boyfriend, asshole!” She shouts. “It’s from my brother! And it’s none of your fucking business. Now, leave me alone. I have to go.” She wipes harshly at her eyes and runs down the steps of Joel’s porch.

Joel’s taken aback by her outburst and the guilt immediately settles in his stomach. He realizes what he’s done, but it’s too late to take it back. He spoke without thinking, assuming she’d be fine with banter. But he’s new here. And fuck, he doesn’t even know her. Of course he’s crossed a line.

“Bay, wait,” he calls out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” he starts, but she ignores him. He watches as she bounces down the second set of steps and onto the sidewalk. She doesn’t even glance back as she leaves.

Joel falls against his door frame once more. Idiot, he thinks. He sighs and moves back into his house. Shutting the door, he turns and glances at the comic on the end table. Now he feels even worse. First, he’ll deliver the gift to Ellie, then he’ll try and make things right with Bay.

As she storms off down the street, she lets her tears fall. There’s a reason she likes to be alone. It’s much easier that way.

Masterlist

#kiwi fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #finders keepers fic

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tricksterrune · 3 years

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Fic Commentary: Savior of the Universe

@belphegor1982 asked for the whole thing, so I guess here it comes

I had a Queen playlist in the background playing. Naturally it came to the Flash Gordon theme song. I love Queen. I love Flash Rogues and stupid puns.

It was a warm summer’s evening, the air getting cool after a long day full of sunshine. Naturally, the Rogues - due to them not being in jail, planning a heist or just before a heist - threw a party. And by throwing a party, they meant that they just gathered two quantities in one space: Rogues and alcohol. They didn’t need more to get a party started. Their collective memory started with the view of a pint of beer coming close to their face, drinking said pint, then maybe a few more, then blurs and then waking up in an overcrowded jail cell. Mrs Morgan, the little paranoid lady from across the street had called the cops on them - first for not putting away the trashcan, then for loitering, for being too noisy, for egging her house, and finally again for noise and a drunken party that had gotten slightly out of hand.

I have a fondness for Rogues living together as a big slightly dysfunctional family, however unrealistic the thought of them all living together is. Let’s say that this is the phase of ‘one gets out and gets a place. Next Rogues sleeps over for just a couple of nights, rinse, repeat and then you have the whole lot cramped in a too-small place fighting over whose turn it is to clean the kitchen, who hogs the bathroom and who buys booze. They never stick around long enough to become part of the neighborhood, are somewhat sketchy, loud, keep irregular hours and so....most of their neighbors (when they live in residential areas) don’t like them. Especially if they get drunk.But Mrs Morgan started it.

Specific Rogues remembered certain details - Mark remembered being on a table, Digger remembered a close-up view of the toilet, and Piper recalled being really, really pissed off - they all had a black fuzzy spot where the hours after midnight belonged. “Drunken, disorder, really?” They took a look at the red blur in front of the bars and groaned in unison. His costume was too loud to deal with that early in the morning and without coffee and with alcohol in their system. “Go away, Twinkletoes.” “Last month I stopped your bankrobbery, but today - drunken party. Your neighbor called it in, she complained about the noise. And about you being the worst neighbors of all times. And a few more juvenile pranks which I hoped you weren’t responsible for, but who am I kidding, it was you who egged her house, wasn’t it?”

Yeah, their neighbors don’t like them for good reason in here

Mick suggested that Flash might leave if he threw up in the cell, but then Len told him that it wasn’t Flash who’d leave first, and then someone insulted someone’s taste in women and then the others had to restrain them.

Classic temperature twins

“Don’t you have a kitten in a tree to save?” Sam asked and held his head in the pose of universal hangover-self-pity. “No, I’m here to ask you a few questions, about hidden loot, secret plans and the like. I’ll think I’ll get myself some coffee, and, oh I don’t know, a greasy sandwich, drizzling bacon and fried eggs-“ “Stop it, you’ll make Mick or Digger throw up.” ”- oh, sausages, dripping with sauce, and the oldest, meatiest, greasiest-“ “Flash!” Roscoe admonished him, too proud to beg, but not above trying to use emotional manipulation.

And here it is, the beginning of ‘how often can you reasonably address a person?’

“Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Savior of the universe!” James bellowed out. Out of all the Rogues, he appeared to be in the best shape. Mainly because he was still drunk and the hangover hadn’t hit yet. The Flash blinked. “What?” Piper burst out laughing. “I knew bringing the karaoke machine was a good idea.”

Of course he brought a karaoke machine. I hc that some of them are reasonably good singers, they just never get a chance to showcase that talent

Sam tipped Roscoe on the shoulder and hissed “Did we do karaoke last night? I don’t remember that…” Roscoe answered with a hushed “According to my memories, Len told me he respected me, so I am not inclined to trust my own judgment.” After Sam let out a “Wha-” in return, Roscoe turned back to James and steadied him on his feet. “Are you okay?”

A question not without merit.

James looked at him with wide, blue eyes. “Whoa - he’s called Flash! Like Flash, but he’s the Flash! That’s so genius!” While the Rogues were busy comparing stories on last night (I didn’t get a tattoo, did I?), a police officer walked over to cell, paperwork in hand. “Excuse me, Flash, but” “Ahaaaaaaaa, savior of the universe!” James yelled again. The cop tried to hide his grin behind his clipboard. “What is it?” Flash snapped. And behind him, the Rogues turned to each other with a wicked gleam in their eyes, then they turned to James who had seemingly not grasped the concept of the party being over just yet and had begun dancing.

Yep, self-indulgence. JJ’s my favorite fictional character and I shall overuse him as much as I like

“I’m sorry,” the police offer said, but Seargeant Ferguson told me to go look for you and give you this document about the time you brought this lot in. Wait, let me get my pen. Aw shoot, this one’s empty, I’ll fetch a new one from my desk, be back in a flash.” “Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, savior of the universe!” a chorus of Rogues sang.

Now that’s a force to be reckoned with....in jail, unarmed and hungover. But united and with one goal: annoy the Flash, their life’s ambition

Flash whipped around. Oh no, they didn’t - they did. They had formed a line, arms slung around shoulders, and in two cases, belts so that the people in question would stay upright, and all had a wide, slightly sinister grin on their faces. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned them. “Flash, I’m back” “Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, savior of the universe!” “Stop it!” “Stop what?” Len asked, the former disagreement with Mick completely forgotten as he had his arm over his shoulder. “That song.” “What song?” “That one.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Len said.

Oh Flash, you shouldn’t have shown that it annoyed you. Now it’s payback time. I hc they harmonize actually well which pisses him off even more

“I’m warning you.” A man - judging from the uniform, it was the seargent - entered the room and broke into a jovial grin. “There you, my favorite superhero. Say, Flash-“ “Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, savior of the universe!”

“Good heavens, what is that about?”

I needed an excuse for people to say Flash more often. I forget where I got the ‘good heavens’ bit from

“Nothing, they just had a little bit too much to drink, I was just about to leave-“ “But Flash-“ “Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, savior of the universe” “you haven’t told me about where they hid the loot from the last heist. Really, Flash-“ “Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, king of the impossible”

The volume increases with every ‘Flash’

“I think we should discuss this in my office. You can interrogate this lot after they have sobered up.” “I’m afraid they already have, they just delight in torturing me.”

Dingdingding!

“Ahaaaaaaaaaaaa, he’s a miracle,” accompanied them to the office.

At this point I think some of the cops are trying to come up with ways to get the Flash to enter the room again and then coincidentally find an excuse to say hi. Flash is NOT amused. The Rogues probably use the chance to escape since he wants to avoid them.

#fic commentary #flash rogues

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justtogetthrough · 2 years

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Can we tall about the secretary at my school's health clinic trying to tell me I'm not disabled enough to apply for a disability tax credit despite me seeing a doctor there for 10 years, many of those years it was between 2 and 4 times a month because of so many physical and mental health issues. I was like. I don't need to justify to you that I'm disabled and want to apply for this. Fuck you and assuming that because I'm enrolled in university I am not severely impaired by multiple disabling conditions. It's none of your fucking business what's wrong with me.

I didn't say any of that, but I did not accept her rejection and said well okay but I'm going to fill it out with my thoughts and submit it to my doctor for her thoughts via email then anyway because I don't think this is for you to decide without knowing what my doctor and I have been talking about for 10 years.

I was too upset over the weekend to look at the application and fill it out. This morning though the clinic called and this same secretary told me she spoke with the doctor and said I was wanting to apply for the disability tax credit and my doctor supports this and will fill out the application for me afterall so please send them the form.

It's a weird mix of feeling like SEE? I AM DISABLED ENOUGH YOU MOTHERFUCKER WHY DID I HAVE TO PROVE THAT TO YOU and also oh god, I am disabled enough that even though my clinic doesn't typically fill these out because they've yet to encounter a student whose impairment is severe enough to warrant it, my doctor agrees my impairment is severe enough to warrant it.

There's not a lot of space on the forms to explain things so it looks like they rely on the doctor signing off to make that judgment and I truly hope that is the case. But I ticked off walking impairment(describing that is only moderate, and episodic), feeding impairments (severe and daily and I pray they recognize how disabling an eating disorder is, because I straight up cannot feed myself and 90% of the time rely on other people for nutrition, and this is an area where my doctor is extremely familiar with the severe impairment I've had for the last 10 years and how residential treatment didn't really... stick), and the mental functioning impairment (primarily memory related and I have a concussion to back that up, but the executive dysfunction from my dozen diagnoses also don't help and idk how to explain that in such a small box). I am debating whether I need to submit a page of details outlining how many hours a day I spend actively impaired by my inability to eat as well as a laundry list of examples about how my work performance suffers and I'm constantly afraid of losing my job for my inconsistent mental functioning. To even list all the things I do to aid my memory is tedious. I rely a lot on other people for that too. And there were boxes about being able to follow through on plans and goals and shit and it's like. How do I sum up what it's like to be paralyzed. My doctor asks me this every month whether I can take care of myself and my house and the answer is always no. But how do we explain that in a little box? Really, my impairment looks like just lying down not doing anything, and constant anxiety attacks about not being able to perform basic tasks. Am I supposed to list all the things I cannot do despite wanting to? Do I list the executive functions that simply don't work 90% of the time? Idk man. I jotted in some thoughts and am otherwise telling my doctor to go ham and fill in details from a medical perspective.

The fact that she won't complete these applications for other students because they're not impaired enough, but in my case she's like yep absolutely. I... I have very mixed feelings about the sorry state of my life. I truly believe I am failing pretty hard at independence and without having reliable friends or my kid living here anymore I am super not keeping up with day to day responsibilities, especially when it comes to eating. At least my kid made sure I ate. On one hand I'm glad my application is supported because if it's approved I'll get a nice tax credit and the government will also match a portion of my retirement savings. But on the other hand, god its embarrassing how poorly I function.

It's like I went from having to argue that I am disabled enough to this receptionist who doesnt know me very well despite seeing me for 10 years, to then getting confirmation that I am disabled enough as verified by my doctor and it feels like my early 20s again when my impairments were at their peak and there was so much grief and loss and depression about everything I couldn't do and how it wasn't fair. But now that's become the norm and I forget this isn't typical. I really am disabled enough that my doctor is willing to fill out this application.

#personal #i live in constant fear that im going to lose my job because im so nonfunctioning.#thats how this all came up #every iota of energy i have is put towards maintaining employment at the expense of everything else in my life #and even then my performance at work is shaky and inconsistent enough that my manager is constantly worried/upset #at a financial planning meeting i shared that i need to invest an inheritance smartly bc im not sure i can maintain a job long term #and so i will need the money to support myself should i find myself jobless due to sucking at being alive #and the advisor was like hey hahe you heard of this savings plan thr govt will pitch in money with it #and then she printed off the application so here i am #weird way to find out the way i live is not normal lol

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

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Consider the idea of Lin /Bumi badly timed proposals"? (just a humble linumi shipper loving your fanfics)

Note: Here's my belated response to this prompt. It ran away from me again until I struggled to close the story out. Hope you like it!

One-shot Post-canon AU Lin x Bumi II

Also on AO3.

---

Outside of the military, Bumi was known to be the spontaneous one. The Avatar’s child who was the most likely to get into trouble. Or get into an adventure, as his grinning father would correct. He was the kid who took quickly to throwing fruit pies to the air acolytes. He was the teen who travelled to the next city because there was a Pro-bending competition happening there. As an adult, he was also the one who tried (and succeeded in) applying for the United Forces on a whim.

It was not often that Bumi would plan for anything linked to his personal life.

This was why, on the weeks leading up to that Night (with a capital N), he felt out of his depth. He did what he did best and tried to plan as he would regarding a military campaign.

This was why he thought he was assured of success.

What he did not count on was the extraneous factors, which was their extended family and social circle.

That – and the weather.

---

“Booms -I’m sorry, it’s not going to work out.” Iroh’s voice crackled over the telephone. “That downpour wouldn’t make anything stick long enough to be legible.”

Bumi sighed as he peered at the window of Tenzin’s study. The waves did crash unpleasantly against the edge of Air Temple Island as the rain fell. “Well, we can still move it tomorrow, right? You and the boys are still free?”

“Of course, provided that the weather is better. As for our availability - ,” Whatever Iroh said was lost as the line crackled again as it was wont to do when the weather was poor. Bumi clicked his tongue. Tenzin really needed to have some repairs made in this temple. “- So after that, we can definitely pick it up for you.”

“Great!” Bumi could care less if they need to adjust the timing a bit – as long as it pushesthrough.

He did not need the details.

---

Or maybe, he should have probed for more details.

The retired commander saw that now as he watched visitors mill around Air Temple Island.

Various air acolytes and airbenders from the different temples now crowd the usually empty courtyard.

How was he to know that it was time for the anniversary of the return of the airbenders? He did not even know there was an identified datefor that.

Or maybe, he would have known had he listened to Tenzin’s lectures.

He scratched his chin, pensively, wondering if this might change anything when something cold and wet lashed at his behind.

“Hello, Bumi.” His sister walked over, a water whip formed at her side, grinning as she usually did.

“Mother said you shouldn’t hit people.”

“Mother said a lot of things that you didn’t follow.” Kya crossed her arms mockingly. She nodded to the entrance of the residential building where their mother stood, surrounded by her youngest grandchildren.

He understood. They never could begrudge their mother anything, especially now with her waning health.

A sea of green passed in the periphery.

“I see Suyin and her brood are here.” Bumi contemplated briefly if it would have any impact to his plans.

Kya commented. “Did they really have to be always in green?”

“Did you always have to be in blue?”

“Touche.” Kya shrugged. “Though, I needed to be blue to occasionally camouflage in the South Pole if I needed to be stealthy.”

“For what?”

From afar, they see Katara beckoning Kya forward from where she and Pema stood by the stoop of the house. “I’ll go get settled now.”

Bumi excused himself, citing some reason to check on something, which, technically he needed to do.

“Tenzin said nothing formal; nothing big. Just a small gathering.” The loud voice of the Avatar grumbled.

The clinking of metal was heard next before Bumi rounded the corner. “And yet, everyone is here.”

“Chief Beifong!”

“Avatar.” Lin inclined her head in greeting, with blank politeness on her face.

Bumi knew better though – the slight tightening of her jaw and the grip she had on her belt: oh, Lin was irritated.

“What’s up?” Korra toyed with the sleeves of her formal wear, obviously uncomfortable.

“How are your travels?” Bumi interjected, popping beside Lin before she manages any acerbic remark.

“We are travelling in style! I think I could get used to it.”

“I think you already are.” Asami looked on with amusement.

“You’re lucky,” Bumi pointed towards where Oogi and the younger bison were flying around. “Dad had to travel on a sky bison.”

“Mom said it wasn’t pleasant.” Lin wrinkled her nose.

“There! You! Are!” Bolin ran and huffed as he arrived before them, doubling over in the effort. “Wing and Wei just found where the food was being prepared, we can sneak off to get some before the– oh hello Chief Beifong!”

“I did not hear anything.” Lin looked skyward and waved her hand at them.

“Beifong!” Bumi quickly caught up with Lin, who strode off quickly when the teenagers started talking about food. “Are you on duty?”

“Yes.” Lin sighed, putting her hand on her hips then stomping, doing a seismic perimeter check. “I know, but I have to.”

“I’ll look for you later.”

“Alright. We’re a bit stretched – Tenzin did not give us the correct numbers of attendees, as usual.” Her forehead crinkled as she concentrated on the perimeter check. “Good thing the Fire Lord sent General Iroh and some of his men to represent their nation.”

“Oh, that’s what he meant.” Bumi murmured to himself.

Lin glanced at him in askance.

“Iroh.” Bumi did not want to expound further. Lin had a way of ferreting out the truth from him without seismic sense anyway.

Bumi accompanied her like a silent sentinel as Chief Beifong went about doing check to her team and on the island.

They have finally arrived at the main courtyard where the usually unflappable master airbender was fluttering about like a bright orange butterfly, holding several sheets of paper, which no doubt was the program for the day.

Lin groaned when Tenzin noticed them.

“Lin!”

“I better go ahead.” With one final eye-rolling, Lin left Bumi’s side before he could even ask where she will be stationed at the end of the program.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Bumi jumped a bit, startled by Kya once again. “Of course not, my meddling gossipy sister.”

She offered him a drink, which he rightly declined. “What’s Tenzin up to?”

The man was now talking rapidly to the chief of police. They were far enough not to hear them but near enough to see what was going on.

“He’s quite excitable.” The retired military man shrugged. “Thank the spirits for Pema, that woman is a saint.”

“You mean, thank the spirits for Lin,” Kya nodded towards the pair as she took a sip of her drink. “Pema was just about ready to rip her hair off these past days. She was looking quite frazzled earlier and after a drink or two, bam! Out tumbled everything - Tenzin was anxious and has been driving her nuts with all the prep for today’s celebration.” She raised a glass to the earthbender and airbender on the main event area. “But look over there – just a few words from our dear Chief of Police and the man calms down.”

Bumi could not help but tense up as he observed Lin and Tenzin on the platform.

As Lin continued to converse with his younger brother, Tenzin began to slowly deflate. A smile started to form on the earlier stressed airbender’s face and the corner of Lin’s lips upturned, a ghost of a smile.

“I swear – those two, I wonder how it would have turned out for them had they known this was going to happen anyway…” Kya trails off, as though suddenly realizing who she was talking to. “I mean – hey, they’re both in happy relationships and it’s perfect and -.”

Bumi swallowed drily, drowning out his sister’s voice.

He had thought about that occasionally, really. There was nothing to go on and Lin had been upfront about, well, everything so he knew where her heart is.

But, looking at the pair now, at the anniversary of the return of the airbenders, supposedly the pinnacle of all their arguments…

“Booms – don’t do anything stupid.”

Now that snapped him from his maudlin thoughts. “Why is it that everyone thinks I’m gonna do something stupid when I keep quiet? It’s a bit offensive, you know.”

“Bumi, I didn’t mean -.”

No matter, Bumi was adamant that his Plan pushes through.

---

“POP! POP! BOOOM! BOOOM POP! Whiiiizzz! BOOM!”

Everyone on Air Temple Island (and even those at the edge of Republic City) looked up to see fireworks littering the night sky.

“BEIFONG… WILL…YOU… ohmy sweet - is that a ring??? .. ME.” Suyin squealed as she read what the fireworks were spelling out.

There was a cacophony from the courtyard of Air Temple Island as everyone sought to find which Beifong was being proposed to.

From their perches around the island, Iroh and the UF men whooped in success of their mission tonight – deploying the firework proposal.

“OH-MY-BOLIIIIN!”

All eyes were on Opal who was clutching at a wide-eyed earthbender.

“What?!”

Various voices added to the din, shouting different things.

“Bolin did you really?!” Mako pointed up to the sky.

“What – no I did not. I’m not marrying – I mean,” Bolin swiftly turned to Opal. “I would like to marry you.” Then he shouted at Su and Baatar Senior’s direction. “But not now. One day but not now – I mean, I need to talk to Su and Baat – oh shit Su’s gonna kill me.”

Attention turned to Baatar and Suyin.

“Um no,” Baatar shrugged casually, an arm around his wife. “It’s not our anniversary anytime soon.”

Suyin was still being antsy. “Wing! Wei! Did any of you -?” She saw her twins wave up their arms in surrender, wildly shaking their heads as they each held a plate of food. “If that’s not you…”

“Kuvira and Junior –.” Wei.

“That is unlikely.” Wing.

“Huan?” Both Wing and Wei asked, everyone’s heads swiveled to the artistic Beifong.

“Excuse me.” Huan looked very offended, as though it was an insult that someone would be proposing to him in public.

Bumi’s face fell as the Beifongs present began arguing as to who the firework proposal was for and the actual Beifong who the proposal was meant for was nowhere to be seen.

Just then a soft squeal and a sniffle came from Kya’s side.

Pema was holding to her arm. “No-no-no – it’s for Lin, don’t you see? That’s why – Tenzin is leaving me.” Every other word was punctuated with a sniffle. “That’s why they’ve been talking over plans and that’s why – I saw them talk to Jinora the other day. Oh-airbenders-Tenzin is -leaaving me.”

“Ahem, I have an announcement!”

Now, everyone turned to stare back at the platform where Tenzin stood. Behind him, stood two more people - Lin Beifong stood in his shadows, arms crossed, a guard observing the proceedings, while Jinora stood to the side with a nervous smile, hands at her back.

“Ooohhhh!” Pema let out a wail.

“Shh, Pema!”

Bumi froze. There have been still some lingering insecurities that were in relation to his brother that would take a long time to tamp down. With the man’s whimpering wife at the side and his own significant other beside said man, it did not take much to wear Bumi down to his insecurities.

“This has been a long time coming and before anything else,” Tenzin paused at this to throw a significant look at his back. “I would like to say that this is no split second decision, we’ve talked about it and well –.”

No way he was going to let Tenzin take over his plan tonight.

“I will be stepping down soon with Jinora as my successor.”

“LinBeifong, will you marry me?”

Two voices rang into the night, clearly silencing any other words that might have been going on.

Bumi did not care for or did not mind what the reactions of the people around them were. He only had eyes for the earthbender who was gaping at him then looking back at the sky then back at him.

He worried the longer it took for Lin to react.

From his side, Pema sagged in relief against her sister-in-law while Jinora and Tenzin stood at the platform, greeting well-wishers.

Lin, meanwhile, was yet to do anything other than stand still.

“OH – we forgot the most eligible Beifong of today!” Bolin stated the obvious, pointing to the sky and back at Chief Beifong on the stage.

“What are you doing, go get her.” Kya nudged him from the back.

Bumi ran to the stage, almost tripping on his formal robes. “Lin – I’m so sorry – I didn’t think it would be this public – I -.” Lin hated public displays. “I ain’t doing this to pressure, I -.”

Lin gripped his arm to stop him from speaking.

The crowd went silent as Suyin could be heard shushing everyone (“Quiet! We need to hear what her answer is!”).

Bumi’s heart sank as Lin pulled away from him.

This is it. The Rejection.

He could only look to the ground, unwilling to face family, friends and even his former colleagues in the UF.

Suddenly there was a rumble on the ground as Lin extended a leg in front of her and she raised her arms slowly with a grunt.

“YES – BUMI – I – WILL – dear Agni – Liiiin is marrying Bumi!” Su’s shrill voice read out the words etched on the courtyard.

Tenzin groaned, mumbling about the destruction of his courtyard.

“Shut it, airhead. That courtyard has seen worse when you broke up with -.”

Nope, he did not want to hear about their break-up and so Bumi took Lin in his arms and planted a nice long kiss to seal the deal.

He pulled back and was met with a large grin on Lin’s face.

It might not have worked as he expected or planned it to be but at least, he could honestly say that it was -

Mission accomplished.

#linumi #linumi fanfic #lin x bumi ii #lin beifong #bumi ii

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infinitesundrop · 3 years

Text

Read Chapter 2: Perks of Being a Civilian on AO3 | FFN

Banner Credit to the Amazing @the-dream-team

Fic Summary: They say time heals. It’s been nine months since Lily lost her mother and sister, but she still feels their absence every day. The only thing getting her through these difficult times has been the masked hero, Spider-Man. With the attacks on the city getting worse each day, and with the growing animosity towards London’s only hope, Lily has no choice but to act. After all, we all have powers of one kind or another, in our own way. (Spider-Man AU)

Chapter Summary: No one ever said doing the right thing was easy.

Rating: T

Fic Warnings: Grief/Mourning/Survivor’s Guilt, Violence, Referenced Character Death (minor character) | Chapter Exclusive Warnings: Street Harassment, Mass Panic, Gun Violence (lasers), Destruction of Property (building collapse),Violence (hand-to-hand combat), Mentions of Explosives, Premature Acceptance of Death, Car Accident, Self Endangerment

Read from the Beginning on AO3 | FFN

When she finally tore her eyes off the skyline, she found that Spider-Man was staring over at her again. She ducked her head to hide her blush behind the curtain of her hair. “What?” she mumbled.

“Nothing,” he replied, shrugging slowly. “It’s only...what’s your name?”

Her name. Spider-Man wanted to know her name? “Lily,” she said, turning back to face the hero directly and sitting cross-legged with her back resting against the stone railing. Lily tilted her head up to see him, a shy sort of smile on her lips. “My name is Lily Evans.”

“Lily Evans,” Spider-Man repeated, and she had to admit she quite liked how it sounded coming from him. Lily heard him suck in a breath. “You know, Lily, what you did today...it wasn’t smart.”

Clutching her house keys in her hand, the metal bits poking out from in between her fingers, Lily kept her head down as she made her way into the dimly lit London streets. As young as five years old, Lily had been taught never to walk the streets alone, especially at night. Now, with all the attacks on the city, Lily couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing.

If something happened, her father would have no idea where she was. To be completely truthful with herself, Lily wasn’t exactly sure where she was headed either.

The road and sidewalks glistened with the fresh coating of rain from the afternoon, but in the night, the air felt biting and cold. A scuffle behind Lily made her jump, but it was merely her neighbor taking out the trash.

Granted, it wasn’t like Snape was the most savory figure either. They had been something close to friends as kids, having grown up next door to each other. When they hit secondary school, something had changed him. Whether it was his mother’s death or something else, he had gotten into some really shady stuff. One day, she remembered him walking into chemistry and laughing about all the various dark uses the chemicals had if mixed a certain way.

Ever since then, Lily had made a point to stay very far away from the man.

Feeling his sullen eyes on her, she swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded in his direction, wanting to make it perfectly clear that she saw him.

Of course, he seemed to take that as an invitation to come talk to her. Lily was really not in the mood. Seeing him almost sent her straight back into the house, but there were more important things she needed to do tonight than sit at home because of Snape.

The sooner she returned home and saved her father from the worry he was undoubtedly experiencing, the better.

Picking up her pace would surely send him away, right?

Wrong. The greasy man had quickly caught up to her, reaching out his hand to grab her elbow. As his fingers brushed against Lily’s jacket, she ripped her arm forward and swung around, fist balled in the air. “Don’t ever do that.”

Whatever Snape was expecting, that was not it. He stood there, his mouth opening and closing as if he were a fish out of water. As Lily turned to run off, he cried out, “W-wait, Lily! You looked...lost!”

“Not lost,” she hissed, clutching her keys tighter, backing up away from him, but not daring to turn her back yet. “Don’t touch me. Don’t follow me.”

“It’s just,” he continued as if Lily hadn’t already made it extremely clear she wanted to be left alone, “It’s dangerous at night. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily pulled up her polaroid, snapping a photo. The flash lit up the whole block. It was only the two of them out right now. “Okay, well, you lay another finger on me, this will be your wanted photo. Leave me alone.”

Snape said something, but Lily didn’t catch it as she darted in the opposite direction. She didn’t think about where she was going; she just needed to get away.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come out here tonight.

Lily sucked in a shuddery breath as she reached a crosswalk a far enough distance away. Puffs of condensation filled the air as she took a moment to breathe while the cars drove through the intersection.

As much as she wanted to help Spider-Man, she had to admit her plan was a long shot. She wasn’t even sure if the hero would trust her enough to talk with all that was going on.

Lily pushed those thoughts from her mind, turning to the present.

She was already several blocks away from home, and even if she wanted to turn around, the idea of running into Snape again turned her blood cold. No. She had to see this through.

Taking stock of her surroundings, Lily realized she was no longer in the more residential districts. Passing a few shops that had closed up for the night, Lily wondered if maybe she was being reckless. She had no idea where she was going. While this part of town was familiar, Spider-Man had been spotted all over London.

Who was to say that she would actually find him? London was a massive city, and it was just as likely that Lily would end up somewhere unknown and in danger without anyone by her side, let alone a masked hero.

Where was she going?

She was torn from her thoughts by a loud bang, and Lily whipped around, nearly slipping off the thin piece of sidewalk she was on in between the two sides of the street, to see a gaggle of 30-somethings stumble out of the pub door that had been flung open. Starting to stagger down the street, the group roared with laughter. She placed her hand over her heart to soothe its hammering.

It took a moment for Lily’s breathing to calm down before she turned to continue walking. Her nerves were already frayed from that encounter with Snape.

Feeling herself become more grounded within her body, Lily reminded herself that she was on a mission. No backing down. Where would Spider-Man be?

She had to think about this logically. Spider-Man usually showed up around heavily crowded areas. The Bridge, Gringotts, the attack last month by the zoo... they were all bustling areas. That made sense, he wanted to protect the most people possible. Perhaps it would be a quiet night, and Spider-Man would only have to watch over the city. If they were lucky, he could stick to the skies without having to fight a second time today.

She’d heard people talk about that in classes. Some claimed that there were sightings of him on the rooftops even when the city was calm. She’d even heard some of them insisting that Spider-Man lived on the rooftops of London.

Glancing over to make sure the intersection was clear, she hurried the rest of the way across. Halfway through the crosswalk, she was hit with the realization that she was already taking her usual route to school without a second thought. Why hadn’t it occurred to her to go this way before?

Lily supposed when she first left the house, she was too worked up about the whole Spider-Man thing to do much thinking at all. For the first time since April, she'd fought with her father. And how had she handled it? She stormed out on him.

He barely let her go out for a drink at the pub with some friends after dark anymore, let alone go off wandering by herself. Not since her mother and sister...

Still, it wasn’t like she was going to any unknown parts of the city. Lily was only headed to school.

It was nighttime, though. While students did stay late to work on classwork, there wasn't usually much danger there. The worst thing that happened was students getting too drunk at the pub or arguing in the dorms.

Perhaps going to school wasn’t the best idea, but staying at least on the walking part of her commute provided her with the familiarity she needed to keep her from turning back and heading home. Once underground, she’d decide her final destination.

A familiar bright blue and red light signaled her tube station, and Lily continued on her daily commute. She descended to the Underground, scanned her Oyster card, walked down to the platform, and stood with her camera held close to her chest to await her train.

Time passed slowly and all too fast at the same time. What she was about to do was senseless, and once she boarded, it would be much harder to turn back. Lily recognized this but was still worthwhile to her.

Boarding the first car that arrived, she took a seat across from a sleeping man with facial hair. It was only Lily and the dosing passenger in their section. Normally, with so few people on the train, she’d take a seat somewhere farther away, but it was oddly comforting to be near someone else right now.

She felt bad for him. He looked exhausted, like he had come straight off a long shift. Based on his uniform, he was a subway operator. Squinting, she thought she could make out the name ‘Stan’ on his nametag.

Above the entrance, the little timer ticked down until the doors closed. What stop was he waiting for? Lily held onto the upper railing in case the train started moving, stepping forward towards the tired subway worker. She shifted her hands to brace against the seat beside Stan and leaned down to shake the worker gently. “What’s your stop?” she asked.

Stan barely responded, peeking one eye open lazily and muttering, “Piccadilly Circus”.

Of course. One of the most populated places this late would be the middle of the West End. It was always lined with tourists and locals alike.

She nodded her head, looking up at the map to see where she wanted to get off on the line. “That’s where I’m going too,” she decided aloud. “I’ll wake you when we’re there, yeah?”

Stan let out a little ‘hmmph’ in response, shifting his body so his face was squished against the subway seats with his back turned to Lily. The pleasant robotic voice announced the doors were closing, and Lily made it back to her seat right in time. The train lurched forward again mere moments later.

Studying the map above the man’s head, Lily saw she only had two stops until her own. Soon enough, the announcements declared that they had arrived, the doors gliding open. Lily stood, stepping closer to Stan and giving his shoulder another gentle shake.

In return, he grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out then turned in his chair again. It looked like there was no rousing him. Although she wanted to help, the overhead voice called for doors closing. She didn’t want to miss her stop, so she ran off the train quickly. The doors slid shut behind her with an audible click.

Once out of the car, Lily was immediately struck by how empty and quiet the place was. Usually, on a Friday night in London, people crammed onto the platforms, fighting for a place on the next train. Tonight, it was eerily quiet. The only person she saw was a janitor humming to himself as he swept.

She climbed the first set of stairs quickly. If anything, the theatres should be getting out soon, and the Circus would be filled with people going home via the Tube.

When Lily had left home, she had been sure she’d heard the weatherman call for clear skies the rest of the night. As usual, he must have been wrong, because the thunder from above the station was almost deafening the closer to the ground floor she got.

Lily climbed another set of stairs, the roar almost deafening at this point. Reaching the top of another flight of stairs, she thought she saw shadows growing larger and larger on the tiled wall towards the exit. Lily had to blink a few times to make sure she was seeing correctly. The pit of her stomach dropped with the realization that she was right.

And it wasn’t thunder.

She had been hearing a stampede of footsteps, and they were coming her way.

Turning a corner into a long hallway, all Lily saw was a horde of people flooding in, barreling towards her as if they didn’t even see her coming. The crowd ran straight into her.

Lily gasped as people shoved her aside, trampling on her feet and knocking her against the tile. Her camera crunched loudly with the impact. She braced herself for the rest of the onslaught, making herself as small as possible against the wall.

Screams of terror echoed along the tunnels. Well, at least she’d been right about where to find Spider-Man.

Hopefully, she was.

Filled with purpose again, Lily pushed against the crowd, trying to wedge her way through. She had to find Spider-Man. She had to. This was what she’d come out here for, after all. Camera or not, she had to warn him about the police and the press.

A pair of hands wrapped around one of her wrists in a vice-like grip.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the woman demanded as Lily tried to shake her off. The woman yanked back in return, Lily’s feet sliding along the floor towards her. “Lily!”

Hearing her name, Lily’s head snapped up. A familiar face stood in front of her, trying to tug her back towards the Tube. “Hestia, no, I can’t!”

“What’re you on about?” Hestia’s dark eyebrows furrowed together for a split second before she shook her head. It was as if she already decided that trying to sort out whatever Lily wanted to stick around for was not important. “Lily,” she pleaded desperately. “You have to come with me! Now! You can’t go up there!”

Lily had never seen her friend this way, so frantic and terrified. Hestia Jones was not the sort of person to scare easily‒or at all‒in the time Lily had known her. Whatever waited up there must have been dangerous.

If she turned back now, it would save her father and her friends the heartache and the fear of not knowing if she was all right. Looking into Hestia’s eyes, she almost did turn back.

But she couldn’t. Not with everything at stake. If they took down Spider-Man, who would be here to save all these people? Even if it meant sacrificing her own life, Lily would do everything in her power to help Spider-Man protect the city.

It was the right thing to do.

Everything happened so fast. One moment she was resisting Hestia’s pull, the next the two of them were running along with the chaos. Hestia had loosened her grip on Lily’s wrist, so Lily took the opportunity to slide her hand into Hestia’s instead, giving her friend’s hand a tight squeeze.

The gesture seemed to have alleviated Hestia’s worries as her friend breathed out in relief. It made what Lily had to do next so much worse.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, quickly dropping her hand and disappearing into the crowd.

When Lily turned back, her friend was being pulled along by the undertow of the crowd, her arm outstretched for Lily to grasp like a life preserver. Hestia looked distraught, and Lily was certain if she were any closer she’d see tears on her face.

This had better work.

James webbed from building to building, quickly weaving his way towards the scream. It wasn’t long before he found its inspiration: two masked terrorizers perched on the base of the statue in the middle of Piccadilly Circus.

He felt a sense of familiarity as he stared at the two. It was a man and a woman, but they looked so similar. They were both childlike in stature, but their shoulders sloped inwards, making them appear hunched over. Their faces were partially covered by masks, but the features that showed through were familiar.

He’d seen them before. He just didn’t remember where exactly.

The man had a lopsided sort of leer, and through the holes on the skull mask he was wearing, James spotted beady little eyes. The woman had less distinctive features, but like her counterpart, her skin was pallid, and she bore the same wicked expression as her counterpart.

A building on the other side of the road exploded James he landed atop the flashing billboards in the junction. The rubble scattered across the road, joining the rest of the debris the two had created. Screams echoed through the streets, people in the traffic circle abandoning the cars and buses in favor of an escape through the Tube as the two culprits cackled, taking great pleasure in the mayhem they were causing.

The woman’s wheezy giggle was what made James realize who they were, the noise bringing him back to all the times he’d heard it previously. They called themselves the Carrows: a brother and sister team. They didn’t look dangerous at first glance.

They had been there, though. At the Millenium Bridge collapse. They had been the ones who took down the rest of the bridge with the same weapons they were using now.

Both brother and sister were equipped with some kind of laser, allowing them to bring any structure to the ground with a simple push of a button. The sister, Alecto, shot a theatre close to the Circus, the building wobbling more and more until it crumbled to the ground.

It appeared as if they were searching for something as they decimated each structure, but what, James wasn’t exactly sure. The buildings all around the junction had evacuated; he’d watched them flee via the Tube with the rest of the civilians from the traffic circle, so he didn’t have to worry about saving people from the collapsing buildings.

All James knew was that he needed to stop the Carrows before they moved on, before they found a building full of people to destroy somewhere else.

But, how?

He did wonder if they had any real power without their laser guns. The easiest way to test it would be to simply grab one. It seemed too easy, but sometimes, the easiest strategy was the one overlooked.

So, he did it.

Turning his wrist, James aimed his web-shooter at one of the Carrow’s laser guns. Silky webbing shot out, traveling at lightning speed from James and attaching to the side of one of the guns. He grinned widely under the mask, grabbing hold of the web with his other hand.

He reached to grab the webbing with his other hand and pull, but a sharp tug from the other end of the web made him stumble on the precarious ledge. Another tug sent him flying to the ground.

James grimaced, shooting his webbing towards the building he had been standing on only moments ago. Suddenly, the building began to crumble around him, chunks of concrete and shards of glass raining onto him as he webbed onto a double-decker bus abandoned in the road.

So sometimes the easiest option didn’t work out.

“Good to see you two again,” he said conversationally as he jumped off the top of the bus. Their guns pointed straight at him. “Haven’t seen you two out much lately. I was afraid maybe you got busted.”

That earned him a green beam shot right at him. He probably deserved that after such a terrible joke, honestly. Still, James ducked, sliding out of the way with ease.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked. He needed to find another way to take their guns from them, but at least the Circus was empty. It gave him time. Usually, he’d have to finish things as quickly as possible so that no one died. The lack of innocent civilians to worry about afforded James more time to be thorough. Tonight, the Carrows would be caught.

Still, it was two against one, and he had to keep moving to dodge the onslaught of laser beams coming his way. Usually, his best course of action was to web onto a building, but that wouldn’t be such a good idea when they had the ability to destroy whatever structure he was webbed onto.

As he passed by the Tube station, another beam shot right past him, hitting one of the walls. Too busy trying to come up with a plan, James didn’t even notice the civilian who ran out of the station’s entrance as it crumbled. Instead, he just looked at the Carrows, a smug smirk on his face as he said, “You guys really can’t hit anything that’s not stationary, can you?”

They had their guns pointed right at him, and James knew it was the perfect time to web onto the guns. They were too distracted by the idea of taking him down, both wearing wide grins under their masks.

This was it. This was his chance. All he needed to do was web both the guns and get out of the way without any of the lasers hitting him.

“Say goodbye!” Alecto cackled, but before she could shoot, a small chunk of concrete landed by James’ feet.

“No!” James heard someone cry, another piece of concrete hurled into the middle of the Circus. “Don’t hurt him!”

James glanced around to see who was senseless enough to be out here at a time like this. Why hadn’t they run screaming like everyone else?

And then, he saw her.

Lily.

As his heart leapt into his throat, body freezing mid-fight, his only thought was: Not her. Anyone but her.

He stood, frozen, as Lily ran closer, the obviously broken camera around her neck swinging wildly with her movement. Luckily, it seemed as if she’d also distracted the Carrows with the disruption.

At least, James had thought so until he realized that one of the laser guns was pointed at him and the other at Lily.

“Now!” He heard Alecto cry, and the lasers came shooting towards them.

Knowing he didn’t have much time, James webbed onto Lily and tugged to bring her to his side. He heard her frightened gasp but didn’t have time to reassure her. All he could do was hold onto her and dive out of the way as the building that had been behind them crumbled down.

James grimaced as the two of them roughly slid to the ground. He scrambled up, yanking Lily up with him. In any normal circumstance, James would never manhandle anyone, let alone Lily, the way he was right now. But this wasn’t a normal circumstance.

He needed to find her a way out of here. It wasn’t as if he could leave the Carrows and take Lily to safety. As much as he'd like to, there were other things he had to worry about.

Namely, the fact that the Carrows were shooting at them again.

Without thinking, he tugged Lily across the circle with him, ducking between two piles of rubble. They didn’t get very far before having to dodge the laser beams shooting at them. There was no way they’d be able to cross the junction without stopping to duck for cover every few paces, but their options were slim at the moment.

When he heard the sounds of the guns stop for the moment, he pulled her along, running again to find cover under another pile of debris. While it was safe for the moment, they had to get moving again soon. If they stuck around, the two masked villains would find them again.

He refused to let them be caught and cornered, not with Lily beside him.

She couldn’t be here. Keeping her by his side put a target on her back. As risky as it was to send her out there with all these toppling buildings, James wasn’t sure he had a choice. Yet, looking at the devastation around them, he knew he had to think of something to give her a fighting chance.

Anything.

Despite the fact that he knew he shouldn’t leave the Carrows alone in the Circus - after all, what if another unsuspecting citizen happened upon the scene in his absence? - Lily’s safety was taking precedence at the moment.

“How’d you get here?” he asked suddenly as they dodged the lasers. If it was safe, he’d send her back the way she came.

“I was in the Tube,” she said, panting as she tried to catch her breath while they ran through the junction. Well, that was unfortunate since the station’s entrance had been decimated into a pile of rubble. He’d have to think of some other way to get her out of here. For starters, they needed to get away from the Carrows.

“T-there was a stampede,” James heard her say, and it seemed like she was just rambling to keep from panicking. He only hoped she wasn’t too focused on her words to prevent herself from stumbling. “Everyone was running towards the train, but I-you needed help. You’re fighting for the city on your own. It looked like you were in danger, and I-” She was talking so quickly James wasn’t sure she’d have any air left in her lungs, and he’d never seen those green eyes as wide as they were in that moment. “I had to do something!”

James froze, staring at her momentarily. Had she really gone towards the danger when everyone else fled? It was dangerous to dwell on her blatant lack of respect for her own life right now. “I need to get you out of here somehow,” he muttered more to himself than to her as he looked around the junction.

She had to get out of here. The Carrows were going to destroy every building in range, and Lily couldn’t be there when they did. The Tube couldn’t be her escape route. There had to be another way out.

That was when he noticed dim light coming from behind them, casting their shadows on the pavement in front of them. There was a car - an abandoned but still running car - behind them.

A blast from a few feet away reminded him that the Carrows were still shooting at them, and Lily was looking rather worn from being dragged around Piccadilly Circus. Having her drive off in the car would be the easiest getaway, but with all the lasers shooting off at random, James thought better of it. If the Carrows hit that car with Lily in it, she’d be done for.

He needed to find a way to make it safer for her.

“Stay,” James commanded, leaving her behind a tall pile of crumbled concrete. She was huddled underneath the rubble, peeking out from behind as if keeping watch, but he saw her mutely nod her head. At the very least, he was certain that she wasn’t going to move from that spot, so he swung up onto a building, trailing along his webbing.

“Aww, no more puns? What? Not as confrontational when your little girlfriend’s around?” Alecto cooed.

Gritting his teeth, James tried to work faster, jumping around from building to ground to building and back, sticking his web to every surface he reached. Each time he landed, he glanced towards the wreckage where Lily was hiding. Thankfully, the two didn’t seem too interested in her. At least, not when they realized what James was up to.

“A spider web,” Amycus said, looking at his sister with a raised eyebrow. “How quaint.”

James heard Alecto’s wheezy giggle again before she cried, “Let’s see how well these webs work to protect your beloved from our lasers.”

Seeing their distraction as his opportunity to get Lily to safety, James dropped back down to the ground, racing back to Lily. They didn’t have much time.

He grabbed her hand tightly, tugging her backwards to the awaiting car, her escape. “Get in. Drive away. Just...just stay in the car until you’re safe, okay?” He had to know she was going to be okay, that she’d be safe one way or another. Sure, this wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but this was the best option he had.

He watched as she got into the driver’s seat, her hands shaking as she clutched the wheel. “But what about you? You can’t get hurt. We need you. London needs you.” The panic in her voice made James almost want to stay with her. He could climb into the car with her or, better yet, take her back home by webbing building to building. It would be so easy to leave with her and not deal with any of this right now.

But as she said, London needed him.

He just nodded his head to her. “I know. I’ll be all right. All in a day’s work of being Spider-Man, yeah?” He knew she was trying to hide it, but he saw the corners of her lips twitch up at that. “You need to go.”

When she gave him a shaky nod in return, James gave himself one final moment to look at her before turning on his heel and webbing back into the fight.

“Miss me?” he called as he swung back.

Upon seeing Amycus wound tightly in his barricade, much like a bug trapped in a real spider’s web, James broke out into a stupid grin. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

Alecto’s eyes narrowed and she lined up her laser not at James, who was still behind the indestructible webbing, but at a building holding it up. It wobbled precariously, like the others had done earlier, and then crashed to the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. With it, fell a section of webbing. While it wasn’t enough to tear down the whole web, it was enough to surpass his barrier he’d set up.

“Are you mad?!” Amycus cried from inside his web cocoon. “You’re going to crush-” Without concern for the rest of his sentence, or apparently the well-being of her brother, Alecto shot at the other building. As the building toppled, tearing the remainder of the web down with it, James knew it was time to move.

He wanted this over with. The Carrows might’ve gotten away on the bridge, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

One down. Amycus’s laser gun was laying on the ground, but it looked damaged. There was a flashing red light on the side, and a blue and green glow peeked through the cracks along the barrel of the gun. James didn’t want to risk picking it up only for it to backfire on him. Besides, James only played offense in football. He'd stick to the defensive; he preferred his webs anyway.

One more to go.

Alecto Carrow seemed to be more competent than her counterpart given that she hadn’t gotten trapped in the web, and her actions were always a bit more calculated. Despite her intelligence, without her brother, the fight was now one-on-one, and James had the upper hand.

He landed in front of Alecto as she scurried back to her safety atop the base of the statue. It was a good vantage point for her since she’d be shooting down at him. He still wasn’t quite sure how to take down Alecto, but if the web had taught him anything, they were easily distracted.

Lily was tucked away in that cab and on her way to somewhere safe. Amycus was a bit preoccupied at the moment. A lazy smirk slid across his features, looking at the Carrow while stretching his arms behind his back languidly as if he were bored.

“What did you call my web again?” he asked somewhat tauntingly. Until he figured out how to take her down physically, this was his best course of action. “Quaint, was it? Seems like a good place for your brother to hang out. Bit of a sticky situation, really. Care to join him?”

Alecto swiftly pointed her laser at James, firing without a moment’s hesitation. As he’d assumed, Alecto thought he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

Except he was.

James shot back, his webbing threading around the barrel of a gun. He grabbed onto the silky web with his other hand, tearing the gun out of Alecto’s hands. He heard her rabid shriek as she hurled herself at him, landing on his back with a violent thud.

James tried to throw her off, but she clung to him desperately, kicking and screaming for her weapon. Right when he thought he’d lost her, she started digging her long, sharp nails into his shoulders as she clawed for her gun back.

He knew he had to get her off—the pain made sure of that much—but he needed to figure out what to do with this gun too. It wasn’t as if throwing it far enough away would actually help, even it was far enough to keep out of the Carrows’ clutches. Not if it gave anyone the power to decimate the entire city. The webbing blocked anything firing from it for now, but he knew the web weakened as its chemical composition deteriorated from the elements. Far faster than James liked to admit, it became no more than glorified silly string.

He needed to act fast.

With a fierce elbow to her gut, Alecto’s grip on James’s back weakened slightly. As he began to deliver the final blow, the circle was illuminated in a green-blue light, and a feverish laugh filled the streets. James’s blood turned cold.

Amycus had escaped. In his hands was the damaged laser gun, sparking and shooting in random directions.

Alecto hopped off James’s back and ran towards her brother. Apparently, she had bigger fish to fry than fighting for her gun. With that weapon in both of their hands, ready to explode at any moment, they would be nearly unstoppable.

Not on his watch. James whipped a web around Alecto’s ankle, gripping the web and yanking her into the air. With his other hand, he webbed her to a nearby billboard. There. Even if she did get free...good luck coming down from there.

With Alecto taken care of, Amycus grew even more violent. He began firing his gun in every direction. Sometimes it went off and other times, nothing happened. The sparking was getting worse with every misfire.

Luckily, it was compromised enough that none of the shots directed at James actually hit him. The shaking of the gun from the sparks made Amycus’s aim haphazard at best. Simply blocking the lasers from coming too close was working for now.

That gun was going to be a problem. James wasn’t sure he was even equipped to deal with the aftermath if it did explode.

Amycus’s aim was getting worse, barely able to hold onto the weapon anymore. Maybe this was James’s chance. The second Amycus let go of that weapon, he could get close enough to finally put an end to all this.

Just as James thought this all would be over, Amycus had climbed back onto the statue, attempting to maneuver the gun to point in James’ direction, using the statue as a base to keep his grip on the device as it jerked about. His target line was so much better with the statue stabilizing the gun.

The Carrow was done playing bulldozer on the city. His target was set on Spider-Man.

James knew this wouldn’t be good. His options were: get shot, grab the gun and have it blow up, or, possibly, both. None of it sounded very promising. Sure, he’d been in scary situations in the past, but he’d never dealt with an unstable weapon with this kind of power in the hands of someone like Amycus.

There was a real possibility that he’d die here. That fact hit him so hard that it was almost as if one of those buildings had crushed him.

He could die right now.

There were so many things he hadn’t done, things he hadn’t said.

He had regrets, sure. He wished he’d stayed as close to Remus Lupin as they had been before he became Spider-Man, but he’d decided months ago to keep Remus out of this for his own protection.

Now, he regretted not telling Sirius how much he appreciated all his help with this Spider-Man stuff, even if he hadn’t wanted Sirius to know at first either. James wished he’d told him how he was the best friend he could’ve ever asked for, the brother he’d always wanted.

More than that, he wished he hadn’t fought with Lily at the Prophet. She didn’t know he’d seen her again tonight. Unless she found out he was Spider-Man, her last memory of him would be of their fight. He wished he’d told her how he felt.

James swallowed thickly as his mind wandered to Aunt Minnie. More than anything, he wished he could give her a proper goodbye. He knew how devastated she’d been when James’ mum had died without saying goodbye. Minnie would be crushed again, and she’d be downright furious with him for being Spider-Man.

But he couldn’t think about any of that right now. Not when Amycus Carrow was prepared to end this at any moment, his finger on the trigger.

Like Lily had said, London needed him. He needed to be there to save the people of the city. He needed to save London because that was where Remus Lupin lived. Where Sirius lived. Lily. Aunt Minnie.

He had to save them. Even if saving them meant losing himself.

Resigning himself to the fact that things were probably about to get very, very messy, he raised his hand, shaking slightly as he moved, to shoot at the gun before Amycus shot at him.

Amycus’s eyes lit up with a devilish delight in what he was about to do.

A screech from the distance caused both parties to pause for a moment. When James looked to where the noise was coming from, two bright lights from some sort of car blinded him. As he blinked away the lights, he’d seen enough to know what had happened.

The taxi careened past him, slamming into the statue in the middle of the junction. The heavy bronze figure swayed for a moment before toppling to the ground with a deafening clash, its motion bringing Amycus down with it.

The gun soared through the air, alight like a meteor. He hoped this worked.

James used both web-shooters to catch the gun, twirling it with one web, and wrapping it like a bandage with the other. Fully covered now, James webbed it to hang from a pile of rubble well lit by the street lamps, somewhere the authorities would easily find it.

He heard their sirens now, coming from a distance. Figured that as soon as things finished up, the cops arrived.

Amycus was out. The statue must have knocked him unconscious. He might’ve checked to see if the Carrow was still breathing if it weren’t for his unexpected hero. As James approached the black taxi, his heart pounded in his chest.

Lily. It had to be Lily. No one else disregarded their own safety enough to do something so stupidly brave except her.

The car was crushed in at the front, the wheels bent at a strange angle and steam billowing out of the grill. He couldn’t see her through the windows since the whole cab was filled with the deployed airbags.

Please be okay.

When he looked inside, ripping off the door of the crushed cab, Lily was heaving, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. She had a bruise purpling along the side of her cheek but otherwise appeared okay. As he opened his mouth to ask if she was, Lily cut him off.

“I-I stayed in the car,” she gasped, looking at him, her green eyes wide.

James swallowed his initial response as she stumbled out of the destroyed taxi, and he reached out, grabbing her hands to steady her. “Be careful,” he murmured, worried her injuries might be worse than what was visibly apparent. He’d gotten too used to the luxury that was self-healing. Lily, on the other hand…

She looked relatively okay though. She wasn’t too pale - well, not any paler than she normally was - and she appeared to know what was going on at the very least. Still… “I think you should let me take you to the hospital.”

“Take me home,” she said, rubbing at the bruise on her cheek. It was swollen a bit, and she had this look of exhaustion on her face that made James’s stomach flip. Maybe she was more hurt than he thought.

James shook his head slowly. If something happened to her, it’d be his fault. “Err...No. I think you need to go, really,” he insisted. “You need to get checked out at the hospital.”

Lily scowled at the suggestion this time, and it was a welcome sight. That was the Lily he knew, the one that crashed cars into famous landmarks. “Look, Spider-Man. If you won’t take me home, I’ve already committed grand theft once today. I can do it again and get home by myself, but I’m bruised and tired and I really don’t care to deal with the traffic this fight has no doubt caused. So, I’ll ask you again. Take me home.”

“That wasn’t a question - more of an order, really. You sure you didn’t hit your head too hard?” She was fine; that, he was sure of now. She was talking normally, didn’t seem too confused about where she was or what she was doing, and though her walk hadn’t been all that steady when getting out of the car, he knew she’d been shaken up. She seemed stable now.

Besides, she’d told him off, so that was an encouraging sign.

James watched with a bemused smirk as Lily narrowed her eyes and then swished around, apparently giving up on travel by web. Her walk was definitely more steady again, which, James supposed, was good. Still, he couldn’t let her drive home. Not when she’d already been through so much that night. Not with that big bruise forming on her cheek. Not with her complete disrespect for her own safety.

Lily had already spotted another taxi and was marching towards it purposefully. James, not wanting her to go off by herself and get in more trouble tonight, ran to catch up with her, leaning on her cab of choice when they got close enough. “So, tell me,” he said conversationally, “do you commit grand theft often? Should I be worried about you?”

That broke through her wall she was building up. He wished he could say the way her eyes lit up, her nose wrinkling slightly at his words, didn’t make him feel anything, but he’d felt this way since he first met her. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing that’d change anytime soon.

“Oh, be very worried,” she teased, leaning against the taxi as well. “Planning to be an accessory to my crimes, Spider-Man?”

“Sorry,” he sighed, crossing his arms as he smirked underneath his mask. He knew they needed to get out of there soon since the sirens from earlier sounded far too close for comfort, but he was having too much fun teasing Lily. “No can do. That sort of thing is bad for my image.”

“Ah, yes. Your image, which as we all know is already so good.” Lily let out a soft little laugh, more of a breath than anything, and looked down at the ground. Her smile faded rather quickly, and he knew she was thinking about the paper. As she pushed off the car and examined the wreckage they’d left behind—piles of rubble in and around the streets, the statue toppled, a destroyed cab—her eyebrows knitted together in worry.

It probably wasn’t the best thing to mention his image to her. She’d want to go and fix it, and he’d seen how reckless she could be. Reckless enough to save his life.

And she didn’t even know she knew him. He was glad that in all the chaos, he’d remembered to lower his voice a bit so it wasn’t as easily recognizable for Lily.. If she had known, James knew she’d want to help more. He could only save her from herself so many times.

Thinking back on the events of the day and watching her with that worried look on her face, he wanted to reach out and tell her it’d be okay. They were just buildings. Sure, his reputation might suffer, but he didn’t care about that. No one had died today, and that was the biggest relief, especially with Lily being involved. He didn’t even want to think about something happening to her on his watch. Of all people, hadn’t she suffered enough from his failures as Spider-Man?

He’d wanted to tell her he was sorry for all that had happened tonight. He wanted to apologize for what had happened at work too, despite the mask. He wanted to plead for her to put herself first for once, to stop being so reckless, but the authorities were rounding the corner now, red and blue lights flashing against the facades of the remaining buildings.

James took a deep breath instead. They had to get out of here. “Let’s go,” he said suddenly, offering her a hand.

Lily looked down at it as if it were a foreign concept to her. “What?”

“I’ll take you home,” he said, trying not to sound too impatient, but he needed to dodge the cops. She knew that. He took her moment of hesitation to shoot a web at an intact building, getting ready to leave whenever she was ready. “You’re far too reckless to get home safely by yourself.”

“Right.” She looked nervously over her shoulder before taking his hand. “What if I slow you down, though?”

As she said this, the tires of the police cars and ambulances squealed as they screeched to a stop. Behind them, a few dozen media vans, including Daily Prophet 24/7 coverage. Their time for questions was over.

Reporters scrambled out of their vehicles. They had to leave, now, while James still had a clear view of his escape route. He wrapped his arms around Lily, tucking her in close to his side. “Hold onto me,” he murmured, kicking off the ground and swinging onto the top of the building his web was on.

As they flew through the air, the flashes of reporters’ cameras filled his vision. Looked like the Prophet got their picture after all.

The city was absolutely breathtaking at nighttime. From within the dark, the soft glow of the streetlamps and the lights inside the different apartments was a warm and welcome sight. At a distance, they almost looked like fireflies.

High above the ground, the people and the cars all looked so small. It was as if all the problems of the world were the same size. Up there, it felt like you were untouchable, undefeatable.

Of course, Lily didn’t know this because her face was smushed against Spider-Man’s chest as they fled the scene. She felt the wind whipping around them, stray pieces of hair tickling her cheeks, but she was not going to look around. Her arms wrapped around his torso tightly, and her fingers clung around the fabric of his suit as if it was the only thing able to save her if she fell.

Most certainly not the webs the superhero was soaring through the sky with.

From above her, she thought she heard Spider-Man chuckle. Lily furrowed her brows but figured she must be hearing things. What was so funny at a time like this?

Then she felt his laugh, his chest shaking with every little chortle. Terrified to look down, Lily moved her head up the slightest bit to peek at the man above her.

Problem was, it was really hard to read his facial expression with the mask situation. From the way his head was angled, it looked like he was laughing at her, watching her. “What’s so funny?” she asked, burrowing her face back into his side.

“Oh, nothing,” he murmured back to her, the two of them dipping down as he webbed onto another building. “I just think it’s funny that you were so...so reckless and brave earlier with everything you did, but you’re frightened of heights. You can run into a stampede. You can crash a car into a statue-a national landmark, mind you. But heights, that’s what does you in.” There was a beat as he thought this over before Lily heard his laugh again. “Honestly, this is probably the safest thing you’ve done tonight.”

But it didn’t feel like the safest thing, not to Lily. She felt like she was moving through the city at a very fast pace, very high off the ground while being held up by a couple of little strings. That felt like a very unsafe thing to do. She was sure her father would agree, but he wouldn’t have approved of anything she’d done tonight.

Besides, he’d done this tons of times. At this point, it must’ve been as natural as breathing for him. “I’d bet you were scared the first time you did this,” she replied somewhat bitterly.

“Sure,” Spider-Man said in return. “I couldn’t close my eyes though. Something tells me that wouldn’t have worked out for me too well.”

A smile tugged at Lily’s lips, but she didn’t dare look up. “Perks of being a civilian, yeah?”

“I suppose,” he sighed, and Lily felt him hold her a little closer. She tried to ignore the blush creeping up her neck when, suddenly, he jerked to a stop. She opened her eyes to see what had happened only to find they were hanging on the side of Big Ben. Lily gasped, tightening her grip on his suit for dear life.

“Spider-Man,” she cried, her eyes trailing down the clock tower to the streets below of their own volition. The buses and cars directly below them looked so minuscule. She felt like she was going to be sick, her skin turning clammy and her stomach churning at the sight. Her heart was beating so hard against her chest she was positive Spider-Man felt it.

“Relax,” he insisted, shifting to place her feet on a close-by ledge. “Li-Let’s breathe, okay?” He tugged her closer, shuffling so she was closer against the tower and more securely on the ledge. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Lily did as he said, breathing in, but it came in as a shudder. Spider-Man nodded encouragingly and she thought she heard him say something like, “good, keep going,” but she wasn’t really paying attention to his words. He was holding onto her with one arm wrapped around her in something of a hug, and Lily was very aware of his hand on her back. His other hand was gripping onto his suspended web, only his toes touching the ledge she stood upon.

She tightened her hold on him, not able to think clearly when she was terrified that now he would fall. It didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest, his head tilted upwards into the open air, looking at something high above them.

Her breath must have evened out with her distraction because Spider-Man looked to her suddenly and nodded his head in approval. “Good. See, you’re alright.” Lily only nodded slowly. “Hey, I don’t want you to be scared, but I think you’d think the city is really pretty right now. Can I take you up a little higher-”

“Are you joking?” Lily snapped, looking at Spider-Man with disdain. “I’m terrified, and you want to go up higher?”

He seemed amused by her outburst. “Are you done?” Lily opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut her off. “As I was saying, can I take you up a little higher where there’s a railing and a real floor? You can calm down before I take you home. Does that sound okay?”

That didn’t sound too bad, Lily had to admit. When she nodded her agreement, Spider-Man scooped her up and began scaling the side of the building. From over his shoulder, she saw tourists pointing them out amongst themselves from the London Eye.

As far up as they were when he first took her to the tower, Lily didn’t realize how much farther up there was to go until she was carried up to the top. The white light from the clock cast their shadows on the city below.

Soon, they reached a railing, and Spider-Man pulled them over it. Finally on solid ground, Lily let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Better now?” he asked, and she nodded quickly. She’d never been so happy to have her feet on the floor, even if the floor was much higher up than she preferred. As she glanced out over the city, she had to admit that it was rather pretty. The river Thames looked like glass from so far up, its surface calm and dark other than reflections from the surrounding lights and the moon in the distance. Across from them, the London Eye ticked along at a slow, leisurely pace.

“Yeah,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off the city. It seemed so strange that the city felt so calm and quiet in one place, and yet, in another, it was filled with destruction.

When she finally tore her eyes off the skyline, she found that Spider-Man was staring over at her again. She ducked her head to hide her blush behind the curtain of her hair. “What?” she mumbled.

“Nothing,” he replied, shrugging slowly. “It’s only...what’s your name?”

Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Did Spider-Man call her dumb? Even though she had just sat down, she scrambled back to her feet so she was on his level, looking into his eyes-well, eye markings. “What I did today was I saved your life.”

“And you could’ve lost yours,” he shot back, crossing his arms against his chest.

“So could you!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out. “You know what you do for a living right? You’re at least a little self-aware? Spider-Man, your job is putting your life at risk. I don’t think you’re in a place to lecture me about safety.”

She crossed her arms too, looking him over. He was tall, but his voice sounded young. While it was hard to tell if he was younger or older than her, he seemed like he was at least around her age range. What was a university-age kid doing sacrificing his life for the city? Lily’d had enough lectures this evening for the both of them. If he wanted to lecture her, fine. Two could play that game.

Spider-Man began shaking his head. “You don’t get it. I didn’t choose this. This was put on me, and like you said, London needs me. But you...you need to stay safe. Surely you have people that worry about you. If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for them.”

Guilt washed over her like a tidal wave. Her father would be so furious when she got home. Surely by now, the news had aired. She knew the reporters had gotten a photo of her. She didn’t know if her face was visible, but with her luck, everyone would know she had met Spider-Man by tomorrow morning.

But Spider-Man was wrong. No matter what her father said, Spider-Man saved people. And no matter how angry her dad was, Lily knew she did the right thing. She set out to help Spider-Man and she did.

He was alive because of her. He’d go home to the people who cared about him tonight because of her.

For all she knew, the whole city was alive because of her. What would have happened if the two masked villains had gotten away? What if that sparking laser gun had exploded like it looked like it was going to?

Because Lily risked her life, so many more were safe. She refused to apologize for that, no matter what anyone else said. Even if that person was Spider-Man.

Besides, she was fine.

He did raise a good point, though. Her father was probably worried sick waiting for her to come home.

Lily felt Spider-Man’s gaze through his mask, and she was vaguely reminded of an ant under a microscope. He must have been waiting for her to respond, but she was so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed.

What did she even say to that? Did Spider-Man not want to be Spider-Man? If she could, Lily would trade places with him, take the weight off his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Lily murmured, taking advantage of the fact that Spider-Man probably thought she was talking about risking her life. She wasn’t, but at least her words placated him. She wasn’t sorry for what she did.

She was sorry that he had to carry this burden for the city, sorry he had to be responsible for keeping people who didn’t appreciate him safe.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled in return, and Lily watched as he paced for a moment before he stared back at her. “Look, it’s not… I’m grateful that you saved my life and all.”

“Then-” Lily started, but Spider-Man cut her off, looking down at her in a way that she practically felt the intensity through the air.

“But I don’t want you to go risking yours for something like that again.”

Lily nodded slowly in return, even if she didn’t mean it. Something like that. They weren’t talking about saving a couple of buildings or a famous landmark. She’d saved his life. It was worth the risk. If she had to do it again, she would. But Spider-Man needn’t know that.

“Anyway,” she heard him sigh as he stepped closer to the ledge again. “I’d better get you home. Where might that be, Lily?”

She knew she needed to get home before her father went out and started looking for her himself. She’d be surprised if he hadn’t already. Lily murmured her address, joining him at the edge and grabbing his outstretched hand.

This time, she didn’t close her eyes. Whether she had grown used to the sensation or if she’d grown numb, Lily wasn’t sure. Granted, she was keeping her eyes on what was in front of her, deliberately ignoring the ground below them.

Instead, she watched as Spider-Man webbed from building to building. Every time a bit of web was released, he pressed this mechanism built into his suit. As she first noticed it, she had to blink a few times to be sure of what she was seeing.

All this time, Lily had thought Spider-Man had special supernatural abilities, and the webs were only one of them. Although she didn’t understand how Spider-Man would be able to shoot webs from his skin, she’d just assumed he was some type of mutant.

But those web-shooters were man-made. He must have engineered them somehow. Or maybe he’d commissioned someone to or something. Either way, they looked complicated.

Spider-Man must have been really intelligent to figure something like that out, but engineered web-shooters meant he was really just a regular guy.

She did wonder who was truly behind the mask. Not because of any desire to expose his identity to the world, and certainly not to turn him over to the cops. No, Lily was simply fascinated by the mystery.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that this man had sort of saved her life tonight too.

She had so many questions for him, but she was afraid that if she asked, he wouldn’t tell her. Or worse, he’d get upset and think she was trying to discover who he was. So instead, Lily kept quiet the entire way home, watching Spider-Man use his web-shooters.

How did they work? What substance inside that tiny mechanism created those near-indestructible webs? They were strong enough to resist lasers. They pulled both his and her body weight through the sky. Forget their weight, that day at the bridge, Lily watched on the telly as Spider-Man stopped a bus from falling into the river.

And it all started with those little web-shooters.

Far too interested in the web-shooters, she hadn’t realized that Spider-Man had gotten her back home until her feet were placed firmly on the ground. She glanced around, realizing that most of the lights in the building were dark now as people had gone to sleep for the night. Her own home was still lit brightly, and she was sure her father was waiting for her.

Lily turned around to thank Spider-Man for bringing her home, but by the time she did so, he’d already disappeared into the darkness.

She sucked in a deep breath, reaching out for the front door’s handle and turning it until she heard the click. “Dad?” she called, stepping inside. “I’m home…”

#jily #jily*#lily evans #james potter #lily potter #prongs #fnjp #our writing

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djmarinizelablog · 3 years

Text

Christmas Birthday

If there's something that Levi despises about December, it’s the fact that it’s not summer. He hates it that there's snow blocking the pathway outside their apartment, and hates it even more that he's going to have back pains from shoveling it on his own. His friends are useless when it comes to household chores during the winter.

"Levi, you're getting stressed, and it's almost your birthday." Hange puts a hand on his shoulder while he’s studying and squeezes him with affection. "Maybe you should take a break for a while."

"I can't, Hange," he says as he buries his face in his hands. His textbook is propped wide open in front of him, but everything’s garbled right now in his mind. Nothing’s getting absorbed. He’s been thinking about too many things at the same time, and he knows that’s not a good sign. On top of having to pass his final exams next week, he’s thinking about the professor he hates, his mother waiting for him to come home, and him surviving this gruesome month.

But Hange is insistent. "Come on, just for the weekend. What do you say to a trip to the mountains?" She kisses the top of his head and that’s how he relents. Levi can’t really deny her anything these days. They use Hange’s car for a little weekend getaway trip to the winter cabins just an hour and a half away from their campus. "I mean, I can't turn the winter into summer, but we can always leave some room for imagination." She then winks at him as she drives.

They're both clad in warm clothing, their winter jackets and snow boots thick enough to fight the cold, and Levi can feel his cheeks heating up. Maybe this is what it means to be in love. As he sits in silence on the passenger's seat, Levi watches the scenery drastically change from the residential area to the snowy mountains, the landscape all veiled in white. The sight is a beauty to behold. He turns his head towards Hange and she's smiling at him. This is technically their first date, and truth be told, he's more than excited to be going out with his best friend.

It really isn't summer at all, but they can somehow pretend. He can imagine himself going skiing with Hange, maybe do some cross-country racing with her as they traverse down the snowy slopes. Running past the thick trees blanketed in snow. Shouting words of love from the top of his lungs. He's not even a sappy person. Perhaps this isn’t going to be so bad at all. He knows he can handle this.

However, he’s proved otherwise when they finally arrive at their destination. Instead of a ski lodge, Hange has brought him to a small mountain hill.

"Wait, aren't we going to a ski lodge?" He's confused.

"Who said we're going to one?"

Levi tries to recall their conversation and realizes that Hange has never mentioned what they were about to do. "What was your idea right from the very start?"

"Well... skiing is quite expensive, but uhm, this one isn't." Hange climbs out of her car and pops the trunk. He follows her outside and sees something huge covered with a red blanket. Levi's mouth opens when Hange removes the blanket, revealing a giant plastic sled.

Levi has never been so discombobulated, dumbfounded, and disconcerted all at the same time. "What the fuck? Sledding is for kids."

"Aren't you excited?" She beams at him as she takes out the sled. "I was like 9 the last time I went sledding!"

"Hange, I am not sliding down a hill with a bunch of brats."

"Oh, you won't be alone. I'll be with you." She grins at him and holds her hand out for Levi to grab on.

He huffs in defeat and takes it anyway. They trudge along the top of the steep hill right where the parents are, waiting to push their kids down the smooth snowy ground. Said parents are also eyeing them with judgment—just two college kids, technically grownups in terms of age, dragging a children’s sled right behind them.

"You ready? Go sit." Hange positions the sled right at the brink of the hill.

He'd want to protest and go home, but he also doesn't want to hurt Hange's feelings. Maybe he can pretend not to be an asshole and a killjoy for a day. He sighs and puts one foot inside the sled, slowly, to test it out. He can definitely fit inside, and he has to swallow his pride to admit it. Once his arms and legs are properly tucked in, he looks up at Hange. "This is extremely embarrassing. What now?"

Hange then clambers inside as well, sitting right behind him, her legs on either side of his hips, her arms around his small frame. It feels somehow comforting. She then holds onto the reins. As much as he wants to focus on the view in front of him—the white slope heading down, the pine trees covered in snow beyond them, the bone-dry skies—Levi can't help but notice Hange's breathing against his nape. He likes it when she’s this close to him.

"Ready?" She doesn't wait for her answer and pushes themselves off the edge. Levi yelps from the sudden motion, and finally, they plunge down into the depths of winter wonderland.

It's a blur, it's a whirlwind, all the whiteness of the surroundings passing them by as they speed past the trees lining up the side of the hill. He looks up at the skies and sees the birds soaring through the air, the cold rush hitting their faces.

Perhaps this is what it means to be free. All the stress gone in an instant. The entire ride feels like an adrenaline rush, like a rollercoaster, all the joy and the thrill in his mind. Right behind him is Hange whooping and laughing as if she's having the time of her life.

Levi's still struck with awe when he realizes that there's something sticking out of the snowy ground a few feet away from them. "Is that a rock? Hange, shit, swerve, swerve, swerve!"

Hange does so in time, avoiding the rock that could have toppled them over, or worse, sent them flying through the air. She maneuvers them back into the path and continues speeding down the hill, the powdery snow flying around them as they slide halfway down the path. The children at the bottom are cheering them on, and the next thing he knows, he's laughing as well.

He can feel the ridges of the slope beneath them, their bottoms at the mercy of the bumps of the uneven terrain. It's a magical experience, nevertheless, and Hange's right: they can imagine summer in this dreaded snow if they try hard enough.

However, they both don't notice another rock protruding from the ground and Hange is unable to maneuver them out of the way. The sled jerks from the sudden movement, and out he goes.

It all happens in slow-motion: Levi flying out of the sled just like in the lyrics of Skyline Pigeon (fly!), his limbs all useless as he rockets into the air, his cursing filling everyone's ears. He hits the snowy ground with a thud, face-first, but the humiliation doesn't stop there. Since he's in the middle of the inclined plane, he rolls down unceremoniously for the remainder of the slope like an avalanche, except he's human and this metaphor is just as horrible as his pride—dissipating with every tumble on his sorry ass until he finally reaches the bottom of the hill, right where the kids are watching him, his face covered with snow.

He groans and the kids start snickering. He tilts his head up and he can see Hange climbing out of the sled, completely unscathed for some miraculous reason, her face painted with joy as she comes running up to him.

"What do you think? I'm so glad I was able to borrow this sled from the neighbor!"

Hange helps him up as they pat down the snow that had clung to their pants. She's breathing hard from the exhilaration of their ride, and Levi can see the small tufts of air coming out of her mouth.

Levi clicks his tongue. "This was not what I expected."

She stops dusting off her jacket. "Oh," Hange says, disappointed. "Sorry, I really should have gone with the skiing—"

"No, we should use an air mattress next time," he tells her, holding her hand. "But let's do it again."

--------

My gift for @snudootchaikovsky. I hope you like it! I wanted to play around with the prompt and combine Christmas + summer vibes in one drabble, so here's what I came up with.

(This is technically a teaser for the next chapter of SOS tbh so I will probably dedicate the Chapter 12 to you!)

#LevihanXmasinJuly #levihan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyoujin #attack on titan #levi ackerman #snk levi #hange zoe #hanji zoe #fanfic #fanfiction #mine #djmarinizela

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a-problematic-writer · 3 years

Note

Your doing Minecraft StoryMode drabbles??? Ok this is my first time requesting a drabble ever but,,, may I request Xara's reaction to seeing Romeo for the first time after he goes down to the Underneath????? (Is this how you request stuff or am I missing something lol)

I hope this is to your liking! It's a bit shorter and a bit more haphazard. It's been some time since I played Season 2. But I hope I've managed to capture what you wanted! Under the cut for my friend.

The price of being underground is a lack of sunlight. It's hard to get plant life to cultivate here, but they find things that thrive underground, in low light levels. And slowly, The Oasis comes back to life.

People came in time. Looking for shelter. Looking for food. The Oasis had both. Xara took over duties as leader and had a small counsel to help make decisions. The town was thriving. As more and more people entered the town, Xara realized they had to expand. The new area was strictly residential and coming along well.

All thought of Romeo had left. Were distant bad dreams at best. But then they came home.

There was a commotion at the gate into the settlement. Xara went to investigate because it had caused a mob of people. She pushed effortlessly to the front and froze.

Romeo looked different. Hair disheveled, dirt coating his face, bags under his eyes. Admin form long revoked.

Anger spiked as she came forward to stand right in front of him. He didn't flinch. Didn't even remove his gaze from her. A sad smile lifted his features.

"Xara~"

"You need to leave."

Her voice was venomous and he winced.

"I just want to help, Xara. I'll leave afterward."

Her teeth gritted together, fists clenching. She could hit him right now. And she wanted to, but something stopped her. This Romeo wasn't the Admin. This was the form of her friend that she swore to stick by forever.

This was the Romeo Fred wanted them to always keep an eye on. The one he wanted back so desperately. The one she herself had, for the longest time, believed in and thought would only do good. She couldn't be mad at this Romeo. But she couldn't forgive him either.

Her shoulders slumped.

"We're letting him in," she called to the crowd. There was a collective call of dissent. "He'll be forced to help the community and have a constant guard. If he steps out of line we'll cut him down."

She cut her eyes to him. He didn't protest. Just nodded. She hated him. She hated him so much. Hated that now, of all times, he would choose to be remorseful. And yet, it was so like him. He had always taken things to heart the fastest. Always knew when to take the blame. It was what she liked about him before the Admin business.

Sentiment was a horrid thing.

#answered ask #anon #my writing #kyler writes #mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm s2 spoilers #mcsm romeo #mcsm xara

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( TO THE MOON AND BACK. )

You use your one brain cell for love. It doesn’t always end well.

pairing. kth x (named) f!reader. jjk x (named) f!reader.

genre + rating. non-idol!au. there’s some fluff and there’s definitely some angst. general.

tags / warnings. none, except for a lot of emotion. 😐😐

wc. 4.9k

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif as per usual (i owe you my life) and @yeoldontknow for tolerating me when i came crying into our messages.

author note. this was a commission for the endlessly lovely @1088x1088. thank you so, so much for loving this series enough to support it. it was a ton of fun to write (even though this chapter did really hurt). finding my voice again was a bit of a struggle, but i hope you enjoy it! i’m sorry this was late!

chapter 12.

You can feel the difference in the air the moment you step out of the building and into the arms of your bouncing, bubbly boyfriend. There’s something about him today - an intensity that radiates out of him, refracts off his edges like an aureate coin. He’s got the biggest grin on his face - so wide and unabashed you think he doesn’t even need the umbrella he’s brought along - that the sheer power of his joy might be enough to push the rain clouds back. It stretches wide, brighter than the summer sun, and spills light into darkness, chasing away all the spiders. It warms you from your toes through to the tips of your fingers, filling your veins with lovely golden thread, dust that settles in shades of yellow.

“Did you win the lottery or something?” The question is paired with a sweet kiss to his cheek, your entire body sagging comfortably against his as he wraps his free arm tightly around your shoulders and mirrors the gesture. Your cheek tingles where his lips land. You think he might be a wizard, magicking away all the hardships of your day.

“No, even better.” The excitement is nearly bursting out of him, seeping out at the seams that hardly hold him together. How he hasn’t simply told you yet is beyond you but you know Taehyung’s a bit dramatic - loves the build up as much as the climax - so you wait patiently, linking your hand through his elbow when you move onto the sidewalk. It’s easy to fall into this routine: the one you’ve perfected over the last few months. It never feels stagnant, never anything less than a warm hug on a cold day. You find comfort in that.

The sun sits low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the street. They throw shapes across Taehyung’s face, bathing his features in darkness when you step beneath an awning and out of the downpour. His eyes never stop twinkling - like stars against the night sky, lighting up even the places where the rays can’t reach.

“We’re hosting an exhibit for local artists.” He’s trying to be careful, hold himself together. Still, you can hear the way he speaks a little too fast, too quick to be nonchalant. Bite back a laugh when the words tumble into each other, failing under their restraints. “The director asked me to curate it.”

He stops and looks at you then, hopeful and bright and so brilliant you imagine the sun’s disappeared behind the clouds and found a new home in his smile. You know how much this means to him - how long he’s worked for this, how it’s cost him his parents’ affection and long hours that he’ll never get back. It goes without saying he deserves this, this incredible opportunity.

It doesn’t do it justice, but you offer your congratulations regardless, slipping support seamlessly between syllables. Blending the words with a squeeze of his arm, a delighted little giggle that spirals into the air like a Christmas orange, tart and sweet. “That’s amazing, Tae!”

He’s a million miles over the moon, eyes waning, lost to a flood of emotion as he beams down at you.

“I did all the research and she was happy with it and—” A twinkling laugh breaks up the excitement, steeping it heavily in the sound as he exhales a big breath that seems to steal a little bit more of his coherence. “I just—it’s huge. It’s next month but the director’s given me the go-ahead. Me!”

You decide you’d really like to bottle this moment forever, to keep it on a shelf in your thoughts. You think it’d be the best cure for a bad day, better than any chocolate, more comforting than an afternoon nap.

“Of course you, Tae.” You’re matching his smile, cradling his jaw in the small of your palms. Thumbs brush over the seam of his bottom lip, the freckle that dots the edge of his nose. “I’m so, so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” You know the words aren’t possibly enough but you gift them anyway because it’s still nice to hear. Everyone deserves that recognition, kindness to hold you up like ribbons, to keep your head held high.

“Thank you, jagi.” He sighs a soft sound, all rounded edges and a deep, abiding satisfaction that fills every inch of his expression. It’s still there when he begins walking again, guiding you back to his favourite place with you at his side. You fit exactly as you should, tucked under his arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over the teddy bear fabric of your coat.

“Have you told the others yet?”

“No, I’m going to tell them at dinner.” The pride that colours his tone is shades of yellow - marigolds sprouting between vowels, sunflowers encapsulating consonants. “I want Jungkookie to show his work in it.”

He must not feel the way you stiffen at his side, how the blood runs cold in your veins and sticks you to the spot like an icicle. You play it off well enough, tripping over your own two feet and righting yourself as if it were all just a matter of misplaced steps.

(In truth, you could’ve sworn your heart had plummeted through your feet, all the way to the molten core. You can feel it burning to a crisp, setting every nerve aflame at the mere thought.)

“I don’t want him to feel like… it’s a handout though.”

“He won’t,” you reassure around the strange, familiarly silhouetted lump in your throat. You are intimately familiar with Jungkook’s work - what spreads over canvas in lovely lilac shapes, stark ink bringing relief to watercolour. You know who inspires the evening skylines, the immaculate and yet effortless scenes he brings to life with strokes of pen, paint, charcoal. (Or, rather, you knew. Things could be different now.) Who graces - had graced - the rolls of film, painted in sepia tones until brought to life by a careful hand.

(You have a feeling they aren’t - that they’re just as they’ve always been. Too much the same to be safe. It’d be impossible to miss, even with blinders on. You and Jungkook would always be complicated.)

“He’s worked really hard.” Taehyung’s more or less speaking to himself, carrying a one-sided conversation as you duck back beneath sheets of rain, droplets rolling off the umbrella he carries and splashing all over your toes. Suddenly, the torrential downpour feels fitting, as if the skies have opened up to soothe the burn beneath your skin. “It’d be nice if he just caught a break, you know? Something to give him more confidence.”

He, as well as you, knows just how much of himself the youngest puts into his work. How every canvas, every roll of film, represents a corner of his heart. Offers a glimpse into his thoughts.

You, possibly more than anyone. But Taehyung doesn’t know that and it certainly isn’t your place to say, so you simply nod along, humming in agreement as you wander the quiet Seoul street. (It’ll be busy soon, once you pass from the residential area into the bustle of nighttime and exploration. Not even the rain can keep people away, everyone far too eager to catch up amidst a crowd of smoke and drinking games. You’re used to it though - used to being dragged out by the ragtag group for their impromptu yet regular weekly dinner dates.)

“I’m sure he’ll say yes.” It’s all you can offer as your boyfriend rambles on, lost in his own world

“Really?”

The amount of hope - strung up on fairy lights, dim and yet somehow so full - rings crystal clear in Jungkook’s voice, tearing your thoughts from the piece of pork belly you’re carefully grilling. You do your best not to jerk your head up, already all too aware of the topic. You remind yourself it’s not your place and you flip the slab, gaze trained on the fat that renders out and slides over the metal grill.

It’s hard to do but you weather the storm, quietly observant as the excitement level at the table turns to eleven. With a group of four it’d be boisterous; with a table of nine, it’s a cacophony of sound, rising above the din of the bustling restaurant. It kicks above the chorus of cheers and clattering utensils, as if this moment means so much more. (It does.)

“You think I’d joke about something like this?” Taehyung’s doing his best to play it cool, to convey something suave and reassured, but there’s the tell-tale wobble of his words, the way his knee bounces beside yours, nervous energy thrumming through his frame like a livewire. It practically pours from his fingertips, shooting out past his teeth as his mouth shapes into that familiar boxy grin that belies his delight.

Not that Jungkook’s any better.

On your other side, his hand’s tensing and relaxing over the tabletop, lips pulling and pursing around thoughts he hasn’t fully formulated. He’d always been someone who had to be moving - tapping his toes, shaking his leg, simply shimmying in his seat - but this is something else. It’s as if he’s on the precipice of a realisation, of diving headfirst into his lifelong dream.

(Which, you suppose he is. He’s wanted this forever, just like Taehyung. The break he so wholly deserved. It warms your heart even as it stills it, stutters it uncomfortably in the small of your chest.)

“I’m just—” Speechless seems to be the appropriate word, because Jungkook simply trails off, wonder in his eyes, his expression that of a child on Christmas. “Thanks, hyung.” It’s a rare occurrence, usually offered with that sly bunny smile of his, but it’s dressed in gratitude now, year’s worth of tenderness occupying the spaces between each syllable.

“Don’t thank me.” It comes, dismissive and yet still just as soft. Rounded by an awareness that exists only within this group, a tenderness that blooms and blooms and never withers. “Just make me look good.”

A teasing comment echoes from across the table - that’s impossible from someone who looks and sounds suspiciously like Kim Seokjin - and your group dissolves into a puddle of laughter, the chorus of amusement dissolving above your heads.

This is too good an opportunity, not the time for your selfish concern. You swallow your worry with a dab of ssam and a crunch of lettuce.

You miss the look Jungkook shoots you.

He has two weeks.

Two weeks to select five pieces he thinks will showcase the best parts of himself, the depth of his dedication, the quality of his passion. Two weeks to go through his extensive portfolio, to rummage through harddrives and pick through his canvases. Two weeks to determine what home means to him.

It’s certainly not the hardest thing in the world - Jungkook imagines it starts with the words Jeon and ends with a certain group of six idiots - but it still leaves him stumped, sitting at his desk for three long hours as he pours through folders, thankful he’d had the wherewithal to name things properly. (None of the Aug17uuuuuuughfuck.raw files of his college days.)

It lightens his load, keeps him from upending his entire setup and throwing it out the window in frustration. Not that he doesn’t still want to. He very much does.

But perhaps it isn’t the hundreds of images that’s the issue. Maybe it’s just one - the same one he’s been staring at for the better part of the evening, unable to move on even when he wants to, tapping over his mouse yet never actuating enough to pull him onto the next slide.

It sits front and centre on his screen and he can’t look away; drinks his fill of it like a man drowning at sea; savours it like a king at his final feast. A photo developed with an accidental light leak and how fitting that is, as if all the sunshine has been captured in the single click, trapped behind the shutter for him and him only.

You’ve always been that to him, though. Crystalline and beautiful, with light catching off your edges, refracting from every angle to spell something like I love you; with fireflies at the tips of your fingers, guiding him home in the dark; with the summer sun strung between your teeth, filling him with warmth.

Could he use this? Would it be too much?

More importantly, how would you react? Had your story ended, chapters of friendship folded between flat pages and tucked within a shelf to accumulate dust? To sit among the tomes long forgotten, never reached for, barely worthy of a second read?

Was this meant to disappear, just like you had? What did that mean for him - for his future? Were you meant to take all the possibilities with you, tucking them alongside your cotton candy laughter, the sly turn of your smile? Were they lost to the tangle of your hair, braided into a knot he’d never been able to unravel?

Jungkook hates feeling like this - all the uncertainty swallowing him whole and spitting him out; leaving him black and blue and bruised all over; dressing him in shades of grey that only seem to fade with each pass through the wringer.

A part of him wonders whether he should just ask. Surely you’d answer the phone, sound so pretty carried over the airwaves he’d probably forget himself.

Could he find the words? Would you laugh in his face?

He stares at the photo and wishes it held all the answers, that the light would offer something more than beauty, more than memories that feel more like nightmares.

Half your face glares back at him, a silhouette of the girl he’d been helplessly in love with. Rays balance across your cheekbone and cut through him like a knife. When he blinks, you’re still there but his heart’s all the worse for it, riddled with nicks and tears.

He’ll choose another, he decides.

Finally, he finds the strength, skips to the next preview - and regrets it almost as much as the first.

(This was his fault, of course. Jungkook had spent so long living in a world with you, saddled at your side, two pieces inexplicably interwoven. Of course there’d be thread still, a red string of fate coiled all the way around his heart, hanging uselessly at his side, snipped by hands that weren’t his own, now gone to tatters.)

It wouldn’t matter so much if it were someone else, if the bits of you weren’t so stark, holding his attention like a star in the sky, endlessly bright and unrelenting. Maybe if he could pretend it was someone else, his hands wouldn’t shake, a tremor in his chest from the way his heart bounces about, demands to be let out, to lay alongside yours.

As it stands, it is you - brought to life by his hands, overlaid in watercolour and black and a blanket of regret. The shapes are impossible to miss: the curve of your hip, rounded and warm, peeking beneath a wash of colour; the river of your hair, the wayward strands that curl across your cheek and tickle the stack of silver that lines your ear; the peek of your tattoo, embossed across your ribs, hidden beneath thin layers of paint.

The longer he looks, the worse it feels. A white pith of a lemon, bitter on his tongue, stinging all the cuts he’s never taken the time to seal up. That cry out now, echo the same sadness he’s felt for the last year.

Was there anything you hadn’t touched? Something that didn’t carry you in its hands?

He imagines there has to be.

And yet, as he goes along, clicks through image after image, he’s only left with reminders. Figments of you with blood-stained teeth and scarred flesh, sharks that patrol his thoughts and bite chunks when he ventures too close. He hadn’t meant to dive this deep - lost somewhere amongst the shipwreck of your friendship, a once beautiful thing now rotten and rusted, devoured by darkness. The empty hulls aren’t where he wants to be, caught on broken anchors and torn flags, sinking deeper and deeper.

He doesn’t know how to get out.

It’s absolutely perfect, because of course it is. Taehyung has put every waking hour into this, coordinating with vendors and artists and hardly sleeping a wink. The walls are painted, artistry strung up for all to see, picturesque beneath an array of lights. There’s not a thing out of place, each piece given their due, framed neatly with thoughtful text painstakingly written by your boyfriend.

There are dozens of people in attendance - the turnout the gallery had hoped for and yet still has Taehyung giddy, eyes wide like a child’s, wonderment written into every lovely facet of his expression.

You’re delighted for him, completely over the moon with how happy he is, pride rolling off him in waves that you’d gladly sink beneath. You whisper words of affection - pride, support - purring them into the warmth of his palms when he sandwiches your face between them and laughs so loudly you swear there’s no other sound in the world.

“Can you believe it?” This boy before you isn’t the Taehyung you know, carefully composed. He’s a comet through the night sky, illuminating, fluorescent, lit from the inside out. Glowing so bright it hurts your eyes, makes you blink once, then twice, then another time just to capture the moment against the backs of your eyelids. (You wish you had your camera with you - something to allow you to remember this moment forever, process it and store it in your pocket for rainy days.)

Your laughter comes in tandem, overjoyed for your love, for all he’s worked for and all he’s now achieved. It spills forth in bell chimes, silver in your ears, and you catch his hands in your own, fingers caught together. “Of course I can.” The distance between you becomes nothing, barely a breath passing as you press your lips to his, offering as much affection as you can in the tiny gesture. “I knew you could do it.”

“Really?” He doesn’t doubt you. Doesn’t even really doubt himself. But he asks anyways and you don’t mind giving, folding your support into another kiss, another squeeze of his hand.

“You can do anything, Kim Taehyung.”

He animates, a coin-operated boy whose sole currency is your words of affirmation. Springs to life with adoration in his step, a giddy smile that eats up everything else and wanes his eyes into crescents. Peaks like the sun above the clouds, endlessly bright - a supernova. “I love you.”

“I know,” you answer with your heart in your hands - in his - when they drop to his sides, fingers still intertwined.

He stares at you expectantly, unabashedly, waiting for the words he wants to hear. (A man with the world at his feet, whose heart still flutters for you.) “And?”

“And?” You parrot, cheeks round, a well of teasing growing in the dimple of your left cheek. It spills forth when his mouth pouts, turns this way and that before settling into an expression that’s utterly undeniable, the perfect blend of endearing and infuriating. When you relent, it’s with further laughter, a nudge of your hip against his as he pulls you close, cementing you to his side. “I love you too.”

You’d been prepared for the people (the professionals, the journalists, all the friends and family, anyone who was anyone gathered to attend) and the chaos (your friends - all of them running amok while simultaneously on their best behaviour, biting back laughter, echoing words of encouragement).

What you hadn’t been prepared for?

This.

Standing before a painted portrait of yourself, blown up ten feet and hung in the centre of the gallery for all to see. Full-lipped and grinning, with hands hiding half your face, dark hair piled atop your head and a bandana knotted below your ear. A picture that you can hear - your laughter sounding off the page, reminiscent of that night so many months ago, standing at the edge of the water, the ocean calling you out to sea. The sky streaked in colours you could never hope to replicate, hues that blend and bleed and build into something glorious, beautiful, ephemeral. An arm that reaches for whoever has taken the photo, light reflecting off the sheen of silver, of gold, of the gems on your nails.

You recognise it in a heartbeat - one that feels like it goes too long, as if it’s skipped not one, not two, but three beats - that thunders loudly in your ears the moment everything snaps into place.

(And oh, how it does. A hundred memories that shudder into a single image and tell the story of an entire summer.

Afternoons at Jagalchi, amid the smell of fish and flesh, eating to the point of gluttony. On the shores with sunshine at your fingertips and a hand in yours, endless possibilities stretching as far as the eye could see. Staring up into the sky night after night, admiring the stars packed against the dark and yet always drawn back to the brightest one at your side, a heavenly body hidden within the silhouette of your closest friend.

Your head on his shoulder during the train ride there and back, the quiet offered by his presence, the comfort found in his form. All the little pieces of himself that had somehow found their way to you: your pinkies intertwined, his dark hair spilling over yours, his breath that came low and slow, condensing between you and turning your cheeks ruddy.

What had felt like a lifetime away - seven hundred galaxies apart, never to be found again, engulfed by a black hole of your own creation.

What now feels like it’s right at your feet, so close you might touch it. That echoes in your chest, a spectre living within your bones come back to haunt you.)

“Pretty, huh?” Hums the voice at your side, filled with too much pride - for himself and his friend, for all they’ve accomplished. Taehyung has no idea, blissfully unaware, heartbreakingly handsome as he studies the image alongside you, lets his stare rove across the contours of the woman’s cheekbones, the shape of her mouth, pulled wide in a smile that might as well carry the world in it.

There’s something familiar about the girl in the painting, something that calls to him, draws him in and keeps him anchored. He wonders what it is, makes a note to ask once Jungkook arrives.

Your answer comes belated, disconnected and strange, a voice too far away to be picked up clearly. (You don’t mean it to - try to swallow down the emotion that crests and crests like a terrifying wave above your head.) “Very.”

“Kook mentioned a girl a few years ago, so I think it’s her.” How he speaks is thoughtful, as if he isn’t sure how much to say. Doesn’t want to overstep even as he offers these tiny bits of information - things he thinks you have no idea about, that’s the same thing that lives within your bones, settled like bedrock that cannot be eroded. (Guilt gnaws at you, turns its teeth cruel and unrelenting and licks the salt from your wounds like the back of a spoon. You swallow it down, listen quietly, quietly, quietly and try to slow the discomfort growing like weeds, the blooming of tiger lilies in the small of your chest.)

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung’s conversational, adoring, indulgent. He hooks his arm around your shoulders and holds you close, unaware of the turmoil that turns your insides to ash. He holds you like you’re precious - a sunbeam caught in his hands, just for him.

If only he knew.

“Do you want to see the rest?” There’s an eagerness that spills forth, tacks his words to one another and turns them into a single breath. He inhales all the bad and dresses you in nothing but good, pins stars into your hair when he fixes you with that smile and pulls you along, further into the gallery with a hop in his step.

You should say no; you can’t find the words.

So you follow him to his next destination - to another version of you. Another photo, grainy and overexposed, intimate in its detail. A faceless blur, made alive by light, artificial and too white, casting long shadows where there should be none. It’s easier to imagine this is someone else - a girl worthy of this love, of all the emotion captured within the single image. (Someone who could carry the weight of Jungkook’s affection without dropping it, whose hands would be a suitable home for the heart he’s now offered up, laid out ripe for the picking. Sugar sweet and saccharine, held aloft by a branch that threatens to give away.)

The truth is in the details, though, and you see them for all they are. The dainty thread that loops your wrist - mirrored within the frame before you. It sits evident in the freckles on your arms, the wayward beauty marks sprinkled upon your skin, constellations that should have names - do have names, whispered by the boy at your side.

“He’s really got a good eye, right?” There’s that pride again, full-bodied, like a parent with macaroni art stuck to the fridge. It’s sticky and honeyed, bright with affection, lemon tart and yellow - sunshine streaming past like the warmest day in July. It further cements the relationship he has - that they all have - one built upon years of friendship, of togetherness you cannot begin to fathom.

The guilt rears its head again, roars like an angry beast. You bite it back, catch its tail between your teeth and nod along, unfocus your eyes as best you can. The longer you look, the more it grows, spiny and angry and demanding of attention.

“He really does.”

Taehyung’s satisfied with that, too caught up in his own delight to notice the stillness, the quiet. It’s a silence he overlooks, sweeps past without a backwards glance. “There’s one more I want to show you.” The joy is unbridled, eating up every part of him, and your heart thumps feebly in your chest, kicked around by two pairs of feet. “I saw it and it made me think of you.”

You’re surprised this time - because it isn’t you. It’s not the shape of your shoulders or the turn of your wrist. It’s not a half-hidden smile, the dozens of tell-tale signs that would give you away. It’s something far worse, that sticks to your lungs and makes it hard to breathe, wet paper towels plastered over your airways like papier-mâché.

It pains you when you step forward to drink in the colours, the texture that lays everything in nostalgia. An image you recognise because you have the same one in your home, hung upon your wall, taken by your own hand.

Jungkook in an infinity room, bathed in a million little lights.

Except this is a painting, painstakingly recreated, with shadows deepened and white ink spread throughout. One of your most precious memories laid in gouache.

“I swear I’ve seen it before.” It’s a throwaway thought, more for himself than for you, but it breaks you apart, crumbles the foundation you’ve been carefully laying. It kicks your knees right out from beneath you and you swear you’d fall if not for the comfort of his side, the way he holds you up and inspects you curiously. “Are you okay?”

He looks at you with nothing but tenderness in his eyes; you unwind beneath his stare, sinew and bone unfurling, realigning, forming into someone worthy of his love. You tell yourself nothing else matters, that all the what ifs pale in comparison to this - how he looks at you as if you’d hung the stars in the sky; as if you’re more than just a girl who has his heart; as if you hold all the answers to the universe.

“Fine,” you answer, even as you aren’t, as the ground beneath your feet threatens to give way and send you to an early grave. Even as you cannot tear your eyes from the painting, terrified and awestruck, too many emotions turning your senses to nonsense.

You wonder if Taehyung can hear the tremble of your breath, feel it all the way through into the centre of his own chest. You wonder what he reads into it, whether he worries for you. You wonder if he can love a monster like you, who has kept these secrets under lock and key, tucked away into a far corner riddled with cobwebs and spiders and a fine layer of dust.

You wonder and wonder and then you have your answer when he speaks again, something in his voice that steals your attention, pins it directly behind the light in his eyes.

“Don’t you have this in your house?”

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle

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