#i’m just spewing words at this point but also i am speechless

[gnflorida]

today has been surreal i woke up this morning like ok dnf have one event together that they aren’t even teamed up for but then VINE BOOM they’re standing so on top of each other it’s causing production issues VINE BOOM dream and george cooking challenge finale VINE BOOM flinging food at each other instead of focusing on the damn competition VINE BOOM their faces are a comfortable 3 inches apart for no reason. and then we get barely two hours and all of a sudden VINE BOOM dream is carrying george’s undershirt around like a token of his lover at war implying that VINE BOOM he was there living out his GNF Takes Off 100 Shirts dreams irl only to then finally VINE BOOM grab george’s waist with his engagement ring hand

[teacupcollector]

I Tolerate You... (Sherlock x Reader

Main Masterlist

Fluff Promptlist

Summary - Ever since meeting Sherlock everything seemed to be to be going great. Your life was spiraling upwards but so is your feelings for the great detective. When Molly’s jealous words get the better of you. Your insecurity seems to push Sherlock more in your direction causing another stepping stone to some thing greater and something more then just a friendship. Anon Requested: 7 and 27 from the Fluff Promptlist

Ever since John moved out you have taken his place. You are now tasked on going everywhere with Sherlock but you don’t mind. Problem is, is the slight age difference. He didn’t get your humor especially the slang that you use on a daily bases since you went back to college. 

You dropped out at 20 but now a few years later here you are again. Sherlock was really good when it came to certain assignments, like chemistry, or math but that isn’t the only thing he is good at. He has a great mind and sometimes it is hard to keep up. Unlike John he took time to explain his thought process to you. You didn’t know why though you weren’t anything special. Just a college student who has to much time on their hands. Mycroft seemed to think the same for a time. Yet he has never seen Sherlock treat any other woman this way. Mycroft is the only one who can see how taboo this partnership is/can be. He could tell that Sherlock had no idea of your affections and vise-versa/ There is a good 10 years between you but the chemistry between the two of you is strong. Mycroft decided to give you a chance. He had many tea meetings with you when Sherlock was out. He confronted you on your feelings which you proceeded to deny but once he swore to secrecy you began to spill the beans. “I mean I don’t know if what I feel exactly is “love” but I know I feel strongly for him...”  Mycroft sat and listened before asking. “What made these feelings come about?” This caused you to pause. “I know everyone says this but he really is brilliant, but I don’t want him for that reason.” You pause again trying to gather your thoughts. “He is very... I don’t know the term... accommodating? Sweet maybe? He doesn’t make me feel bad about myself.” You say dragging your thumb along the rim of your cup. “He doesn’t make me feel like a college drop out though I know he deduced it from the start he didn’t point it out... And you know Sherlock he will take any opportunity to show his brilliance.” Mycroft looks at you before saying. “What stops you from pursuing him?” He asks and you shrug. “I am to young for him... I am 24 about to turn 25 and he is in his mid-thirties.” You let out a sigh. “And I know I am way to childish for him. He would probably want someone more his age...” You say. Mycroft begins to interject but you continue to speak. “I mean. He must have deduced that I liked him... He just doesn’t want to say anything. I don’t blame him though. I would rather be here and stay his friend then not be here and lose what we have...” Mycrofts eyes seem to widen. “You really care for him don’t you...” You nod. 

“Yeah... Honestly I don’t know if I would still be here if it wasn’t for him. He showed me that set backs don’t determine what a great mind can do.” You look up at Mycroft “ In Sherlocks case it may be social cues or understanding certain emotion. For me?” You set the tea cup down and place your hands in your lap. “For me it is my lack of motivation... He gives me that motivation. He inspired me to go back to college. I dropped out when I was 20. I was 23 when I met him and here I am nearly 25 and I am already at the top of my class.”  Mycroft shifts slightly. “That is truely inspiring (Y/N). I am glad my brother has done some good but I will say he can be quite oblivious.” Mycroft stands up grabbing his umbrella and hanging it over his wrist. “That may work out in your favor because so far I believe he hasn’t caught on to your affections.”  He walks over to the main door and turns back to you. “If something does become of you... You have my blessing.” He says with a nod before exiting. You feel heat come to your cheeks when you hear the door in the floor bellow slam shut.

As of right now you are sitting in front of him as he looks through his microscope in the morgue lab thing. He was spewing some facts on a current case when he notices that you weren’t adding anything to the conversation. He looks up at you and you just continue to stare. “Has my excellence rendered you speechless?” He asks with a smug look on his face and you groan. “No dude you have fuzz in your hair.” You say and lean over and pretend to remove something from his hair. In reality you just wanted to run your hair through his magnificent curls. “Why do you insist on calling me dude? You sound more American by the day.” He says and you laugh. “I am American dipshit.” Sherlock only rolls his eyes. “And insanely vulgar as usual (Y/N)...” “Just admit it! You are so in love with me.” You say. This causes you to let out another ugly belly laugh. If your eyes weren’t closed you would have noticed Sherlock’s slight smile before he continued with his work while you continue your math homework. Suddenly the door opens to see Molly who you have come acquainted with, yet she seems a little standoffish. You feel her look between the two of you. “Hey Molly!” You say and she gives a strained yet polite “Hi.” You continue your work. “You know a lab is no place to do college work.” Molly says as she walks up next to Sherlock. He doesn’t look up from his work but he says. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you Molly...” He says in his regular monotone voice. You both look shocked. “Why would I be jealous of her!” Molly exclaims. “She is just some college student! She’s ju-” “She is just a woman who receives most of my attention.” He says turning toward her  “That is what makes you jealous Molly and your vibe is off putting now please.” He waves her off and Molly has a shocked look but she quickly rushes off while saying “You are even using her terminology...” Sherlock goes back to writing his notes when you speak up. “She is right you know... I am just a college student.” You say fiddling with your pencil. Sherlock pauses and looks up again. “Like... I don’t understand why you chose me as your partner in solving crime...” You say and begin packing your things. “You are feeling insecure. You shouldn’t let things people say get to you.” You pause in your packing and look up at him. Sherlock stands up and moves around the table and stands in front of you.

“I can’t really help it Sherlock... I mean why should she be jealous. She is a beautiful woman who is way closer to your age a-” “Why would your age affect how I feel?” He asks looking down at you. You have yet to meet his eye. “And what do you feel Sherlock? I am just some college drop out looking for redemption...I am nothing special...” You feel Sherlock place a hand on your shoulder. “Plus you don’t feel anything. Well for me at least. You always said sentiment was a weakness... And you also sa-” “I know what I say (Y/N)!” He exclaims causing you to jump and look up at him. “Sentiment is a weakness.” He says and your face falls. “It’s a feeling and I am not use to it. I’m not use to you.” You look confused and go to say something but he covers your mouth. “Let me speak... I am not good with words and I need to get this out.” He says and uncovers your mouth. He places both hands on your shoulders and sighs. “I am not use to you as in... I am not use to the feelings you give me... I... I don’t know the feeling it’s just.” He pauses for a moment and paces away from you his back facing you. “I know... I feel... I… I tolerate you… That is the only way I can describe it. I know it isn’t the chemical imbalance of love at least... at least not yet but I-” “I love you too Sherlock...” Sherlock's posture straightens as he turns around. You walk up to him and smile. “I know you don’t understand it yet and you don’t have to say it back but... I will be here waiting for when you are ready.” You say and he nods. “Thank you (Y/N)...” He leans down and kisses your temple. “I really... I really appreciate that.” Your face was beet red which caused a smirk to come over his face but overall this was the best moment you will probably have your entire life. It is sad that someone was there watching you waiting to ruin it.

[blazedgraysons]

Love Don’t Cost A Thing

Grayson buys you a car, Twitter stans are mean, and Grayson’s really good at making you feel better. 

A/N: this is part 1 of fics I wrote a month ago, forgot about and finally finished. this started out as a simple fluff and idk what happened. also let’s pretend that Grayson still has a wrapped porsche because I could totally see him wanting to match. 

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: horribly written smut and a lot ofme pretending I know about nice cars

God, some bitches will do anything for clout nowadays.

Honestly, when will Gray wake up and realize she’s just with him for his money?

What a fucking gold-digger.

Gold-digger.

That word rings around your head as you continue to scroll through the replies from Grayson’s latest tweet, each one nastier than the last. You sniffle, wiping your tears and locking your phone, before turning to look at your boyfriend through the bedroom window. He’s outside talking to Ethan excitedly over a car, not just any car but a 2021 Porsche 911. A car he bought just for you.

He had approached you earlier this afternoon with a broad grin. As easily excitable as he is, this didn’t feel out of the ordinary to you, so you simply raise an eyebrow while continuing to sip your coffee.

“Are you finished with your final yet, Y/N ?” He whispers out of caution that you might still be testing.

“Two more questions, then I’m all yours baby. What’s wrong?” A sense of worry washes over you since you know he wouldn’t interrupt you unless it’s crucial. He’d grown accustomed to your new routine since the pandemic began. After asking (begging) for you to quarantine with him, he soon realized that the time he thought you two would spend together was taken up by quizzes, essays, and exams as you finished up your senior year of college. While he was more than willing to take second-place to your studies, he was a little antsy for you to be finished.

“Nothing. I just wanted to show you something out in the shed.” Now, this you do roll your eyes at. While you were occupied with studies, he was out in that godforsaken tiny shed almost every day. Secretly, you were glad Ethan had foregone the bed idea because that was the only thing getting him to come to bed to you every night. You assure you’ll be out in a few minutes and shoo him away to finish the test that will ensure your bachelors.

Only twenty minutes later, you feel as if a crushing weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You crack your neck before sighing and closing your laptop, elated that the four years of your undergrad were finally behind you. You pull out your phone before remembering your promise to Grayson. You walk out the back kitchen doors and turn the corner, not expecting what was behind it.

Your mouth drops. Sitting in front of you is a shiny, white Porsche complete with a giant red bow on the hood. Your boyfriend sits on top of the back seats, dressed in a blue button-down and black slacks. Grayson’s beaming as he holds a bouquet of roses out towards you. You try to think of something, willing anything to come to your brain, but shock leaves you speechless so you start tearing up instead.

Grayson, mistaking your tears for anger or sadness, is by your side in a minute.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Do you not like it? I wanted to wrap it to match mine, but Ethan said it was a bad idea. But- but we can always go to the dealer and switch it out if you don’t like it or I can -“ He stammers, immediately worried that he had disappointed you. You cut him off with a deep kiss, relieving any worry that was flying through his brain as he grabs your waist to hold you closer.

“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything’s perfect. But why?” You question.

“Well, I wanted to do something special for you since you finished school today. And since we can’t travel anywhere, I figured this was the next best thing. You’ve worked so hard these past four years, Angel; I just wanted to show you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.” He explains, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Your heart melts at this. While you had expected maybe a five-star dinner and hopefully some marathon sex, you had no idea your boyfriend would do something so extravagant for you. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe someone would care for you like this, and adoration begins to fill your entire being.

“Grayson, I- I don’t know what to say.” You’re astounded, and every time you look at the car, you’re speechless again.

“Hopefully that you like it. It was kind of expensive.” He jokes, now reassured that your silence is a good thing and not out of anger. You swat his chest before wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Just as his hands start to slip towards your ass, you pull away from him.

“Thank you, Grayson. For the car, for letting me stay here, for everything. I don’t deserve you-“

“Don’t start with that.” He cuts you off, leaning in so your foreheads are touching, “You do plenty for me, and if we’re honest, I don’t deserve you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you, and you can’t change that.” Before you can even respond, you notice Ethan making his way out through the back door.

“Yo, what are you two still doing out here? Don’t you have reservations at six?” He yells out, towel over his shoulder and obviously not expecting the two of you to be interrupting his future tanning session. You turn back to your boyfriend, confused as Grayson sighs exasperatedly and looks up to the sky.

“I haven’t told her about that yet, dickhead.” Grayson yells back to his brother.

“Well, can you hurry up? I want to lay out for a bit, and the weather app says it’s supposed to rain at four.” Ethan asks. You can’t help but giggle, knowing Ethan’s just oblivious to the very intimate moment you and Grayson were having. Grayson huffs, annoyed that his brother is ruining his plan before turning to you.

“I booked us reservations at Il Cielo.” Your eyes widen at the mention of your favorite restaurant.

“But how? It’s been booked for weeks. We couldn’t even get in for my birthday.” You question.

“The owner’s daughters are fans, so I promised a couple pictures tonight in order to get a table. Now go get dressed, we can take your car if you want.” He explains. Images of you two dressed up while Grayson drives the new Porsche fills your mind and you slightly shiver. Grayson, raising an eyebrow to your reaction, leans down for another kiss with you. Right when Grayson’s tongue enters your mouth is when you hear the fake-retching coming from the other twin.

“Bro, go away!” Grayson groans, holding you closer to him. You’re both leaned up against the car as you turn to watch the interaction between the two siblings.

“Fine. But first, let me get a picture of the happy couple. You’d kill me if you didn’t get to flex how good of a boyfriend you are.” He says, grabbing his phone. Grayson moves to argue, but you silence him, posing for the camera instead. You both smile, looking happier and more in love with each other then you’ve ever been. And you can’t help smiling wider when you see the tag and pictures on Twitter.

It only took a few minutes before the hate comments started flooding in. You had set your phone down for a quick shower but returned to notification after notification. It was non-stop dm’s, tweets, and even responses to IG photos from 2016 about how you weren’t good enough for Grayson, how you were just using him, and how he would eventually find someone better.

Usually, you could just ignore it, turn your phone off and turn a blind eye to the negativity spewed at you. But you were already emotionally overwhelmed, and you couldn’t help the small part of you that agreed. What had you done to deserve a man who could drop thousands of dollars on you at a whim? You weren’t impressive, weren’t an influencer or a model, just an average girl who managed to catch his eye.  

Your phone screen starts to blur as tears form in your eyes. You try to stop the burning feeling in your throat. Still, fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks onto the screen as you start sniffling, falling victim to your deepest insecurities. You were so caught up in yourself that you hadn’t even noticed Grayson making his way down the hall.

“Y/N, are you almost ready? We have to leave for the restaurant soon.” He yells towards his room, making his way to you before noticing your sobs. You look up at him before sniffling again, feeling sorry that he had to see you like this.

“What's wrong, Angel?” He asks gently, moving to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. He wraps an arm around your bare shoulder, careful not to move the towel you had wrapped around you from your shower.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.” You attempt to reassure, moving to wipe the tears from your eye. You wince, noticing how unbelievable you sound even to yourself, and you can already tell Grayson is unconvinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asks. You nod, not meeting his eyes, looking down at your lap instead. He softly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. “So, what’s wrong?”

“God, it’s really nothing. Some fans on Twitter had just tweeted me some stuff and -“ Before you could even finish, he’s grabbing his phone to look at the replies, nostrils flaring as he reads what fans had mentioned you in.

“It’s honestly nothing, G. I was just being overdramatic.” You promise, wanting to drop it at this point and continue with the perfect day you two were having.

He’s silent for a second, which worries you more than anything since he always has something to say. You rub his thigh, trying to comfort him before he grabs your hand.

“You know none of that is true. There is no one better, never will be. My future begins and ends with you.” He whispers, sounding even more hurt than you. You stare at him widely, dumbfounded at the bold confession Grayson just dropped on you. Taking your silence as disbelief, he moves your hand towards his mouth so he can start kissing your wrist.

“Believe me when I say, Y/N, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. “ He growls, dropping your wrist to move in front of you. “What can I do to get that through your head?”

With that, he grabs your head roughly, bringing you into a hot kiss. You immediately whimper, wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you. His tongue slides against yours desperately as he rips your towel off you, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.

You pull away from each other, panting with desire and trying to catch your breath as Grayson goes down to suck warm, wet kisses onto your neck.

Moaning his name, you move to unbutton his shirt shakily while he continues to move down your neck to your chest. You shrug his shirt off before scratching your nails down his chest as he takes one nipple into his mouth.

Twirling the other nipple in his fingers, you arch into him before he’s switching to the other one and repeating this process. He continues like that for a while until you moan and whimper underneath him, trying to grind up into his lap.

“Grayson, please. Touch me.” You mewl, hips bucking when he drags a finger through your slit. Grayson sucks the mess off his finger before looking down at you darkly, hazel eyes turning a deep brown. He kneels down, spreading your legs and placing his large hands on your hips to hold you down. He places soft, open mouth kisses on the apex of your thighs and meets your gaze before speaking again -

“Mine. You’ll always be mine. Nothing can change that.” He promises. You clench around nothing, feeling like you could cum just from his words of reassurance. He notices how you react and sharply inhales.

“Fuck, so pretty.” He breaths out, and you’re not even sure you’re supposed to hear that, watching Grayson lose himself in the desire to express how deep his love runs for you.

He spreads your lips apart with two fingers before licking at your clit softly. He licks it again before pulling you towards him with a long, slow lick watching as you fall apart.

You already knew this was going to take no time on your end, but watching his intense gaze on you causes you to produce more and more wetness, to the point where you feel like you’re leaking onto the mattress.

He stops at your clit, circling it a few times with his tongue before taking it into his mouth. He suckles on it, watching as you fall back onto the mattress with a high pitch whine.

“Grayson.” You moan shakily, moving to get closer to his mouth.

You start rolling your hips onto his face, grabbing your tits to ground yourself somehow. Your moaning consistently now, not knowing how else to convey how good he’s making you feel other than with high-pitched sounds.

He places his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and starts making out with your pussy, savoring every sweet drop that comes out of you. He sucks harder before pulling back and rubbing at your clit with two fingers.

“So good, Angel. Perfect for me.” He gasps, lips swollen and red. His mouth is dripping, and he shakily runs a hand through his hair before diving back in.

He focuses on your clit this time, sucking hard while reaching to slide two fingers inside of you. He drags them back and forth, feeling you clenching down hard on him.

“Grayson, I’m so close.” You moan, getting louder and louder as he continues to flood your body with pleasure. He sucks on your clit even harder before dragging his fingers against a specific spot, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with white-hot pleasure. You scream as your orgasm rolls through you in shockwaves, simultaneously pulling away and trying to get closer to him.

He doesn’t take his mouth off you and groans loudly at how your pussy pulsates in his mouth. He notices he’s grinding in the air and presses a palm down to relieve some of the pressure in his pants.

You lay there with an arm over your eyes, taking ragged breaths trying to calm yourself down. Grayson finally removes himself from you and goes up to lay next to you, stroking your hair and moving your arm so you can look at him.

“Never has a man ever made me cum that hard.” You mutter. He laughs at that before he turns to kiss you softly, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. His kissing grows sloppier and sloppier until he’s slotting himself in between your thighs.

You reach down to unbutton his pants and pull them and his briefs down as far as you can until he leans back to remove them altogether.

He gets back in position, kissing you some more while his rock-hard cock brushes up against your thigh. He grinds into you as you pull away from him.

“Gray?”

“Yeah.” he murmurs hotly, continuing to grind into you.

“Fuck me, please.” You purr.

He breathes shakily and lines up with you, rolling his hips into you slowly. You both moan at the first thrust, his guttural and deep and yours high-pitched and whiny. He slowly grinds into you one, two, three times before picking up and thrusting into you properly.

He grabs one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder, allowing him to reach inside you deeper. He speeds up, overwhelming you with the relentless snap of his hips.

“Grayson.” you cry as he reaches down to rub your clit. He groans, unsure whether to look at your aroused eyes, your bouncing tits, or how effortlessly his dick enters and leaves your pussy. He tries to look at all three before groaning, “So fucking hot, Y/N.” He leans down to kiss and suck at your neck before growling in your ear, “Don’t give a fuck what anyone says. You’re so perfect for me. So wet and tight.”

At this point, he’s speaking incoherently. So overwhelmed by how well you’re taking him that he’s saying anything and everything that comes to his brain. That doesn’t stop his words from going directly to your clit, and you moan loudly at his words, begging for him to fuck you harder.

He does as asked, and it isn't until he leans down to kiss you again that you feel your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. You cry out while you dig sharp nails into his back, riding out your orgasm as he continues to pound into you. His thrusts stutter as you clamp down on him like a vice. He continues to roll his hips while cursing lowly into your ear.

“Cum for me, G. Please. I need it.” You whisper while scratching lightly up his back, hoping this will edge him on to finish. Sure enough, his hips stutter as his dick swells before hotly cumming inside you.  He groans out loudly, rocking his hips slowly into you before coming to a complete stop. He lays down on top of you, grabbing a blanket to cover the two of you.

You run your hands through his hair as he softly kisses your forehead.

“I love you, no matter what. Don’t listen to Twitter.” He confirms, sleepily. You hum in agreement, kissing his neck as a response.

“I love you more.”

You both are quiet, the silence lulling you to sleep before Grayson is rapidly jerking himself out of you. You look at his wild expression, concerned.

“Fuck, I forgot about our reservations.”

[h2bakugou]

hello! can i request a scenario where the reader is best friends with bakugo and overhears him calling himself weak after he's failed and gets very angry with him? and she gets really soft once she's done telling him all the ways he Isn't Weak? and the reader is a lot more chill than bakugo but she's also known for being Scary when she does get angry?

a/n: hi love! i love this scenario, it’s super fluffy but also angsty and it’s perfect for bakugou, and it seems like a very real thing that would happen. thanks for the request! sorry, i’m answering it so late!

summary: being best friends with bakugou is tough, but when you overhear him call himself weak, you get angry. he’s so far from weak. you decide to give him a piece of your mind.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

wordcount: 1k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

Being best friends with Bakugou is like being the squad called in to disarm a live bomb.

It’s tough, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Bakugou may be stubborn, arrogant, childish, and at times, an asshole, but he’s strong, driven, and when it comes down to it, you look up to him.

- - -

The day had dragged on long enough and you wanted to take a break. But the day called for other plans.

Training had been a nightmare, but that was just because you’d overworked yourself the previous day during a spar with Bakugou. Not surprising though, you powered through the pain and managed to come in fourth in today’s training.

Bakugou however, had placed a rocky 7th place. It was unusual to see him so far back from his usual 1st or rarely 2nd place.

He wasn’t taking it very well, but that was to be expected. His ego was about the size of his biceps. So when he stormed out of the gym after training was over, it was you who had to track him down and talk to him, hoping to ease his mind.

Eventually coming across the boy, you noticed he’d taken to punching a tree in the woods, along the path you guys ran for some training courses.

“Hey, Bakugou!” You waved your arms at him, getting his attention.

“What do you want?” Bakugou grumbled. You walked over to him and placed your hand on his fist, pulling it away from the broken bark on the tree.

“Instead of breaking nature, let’s go spar. Come on grumpy pants.” You smile, dragging him by his hand toward the gym.

Bakugou pulled his fist from his hand. Your chipperness was exactly what he didn’t want to hear right now.

“Leave me alone.” Bakugou turned back and continued down the opposite side of the path. Maybe he just needed a breather.

“You did good today, don’t sweat it!” You called to him. Whether he came in 7th place or not, he always gave it his all, and his all was fucking amazing. 

You waved despite him not even looking at you. You’d give him some time and hopefully when he’d cleared his head the two of you could study for Mic’s test tomorrow.

You headed back to the dorms and took a shower, washing the day’s sweat and blood that was caked onto your skin.

- - -

“Hey has anyone seen Bakugou?” You questioned, all the heads in the commons area turning toward you.

“Last I saw him was the gym. Said something about training.” Kaminari piped up. You nodded and sent him a smile.

“Thanks, Kami!” You could always trust him to keep an eye on Bakugou for you, that and he assumed he would always get your sweet remarks so he never stopped keeping tabs on the explosive blonde.

Your walk back to Gym Gamma was much quieter than you’d like it to be. Usually, you had a blonde yelling in your ear walking to and from the gym. It was odd to be going alone.

 When you got to the gym, you stayed quiet, wanting to make sure Bakugou was in here and not someone else. 

“Fucking pathetic!” Bakugou yelled, his explosions drowning out everything else. Your eyes widened.

“Weak!” Bakugou yelled, sending off more explosions into the large stone pillars. 

“Damn!” Bakugou growled, the feeling of pain shooting through his arms. He was pushing himself to his limit. But he needed to get better. 

He couldn’t come in 7th again. He had to be number 1. To beat All Might. To beat Deku.

“Hey!” You yelled, running over to him. He stopped what he was doing and stared at you. You were furious.

“What do you-”

The sound of skin hitting against skin filled the air. Your hand rested in the air from where you’d slapped him.

“Don’t ever call yourself weak again, do you hear me?” You said, fury lining your words.

You instantly felt regret for slapping the boy, but he wouldn’t have come to if you hadn’t.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, and I’ve met fucking All Might.” You glared at him, your gaze not letting up when his did.

“You are talented, drive, and you have passion. How many classmates can I say that about?” Your brows knitted together and you let your hand drop to your side.

“I look up to you, and so do our classmates. Your the farthest thing from weak. You’re always jumping into fights, declaring war against villains, you’re brave and bold.” You spewed out reasons why Bakugou was one of the strongest people you knew.

“It’s not being weak falling a few spots down. You’re striving to be the best and getting back up to be better. And that’s what you do best. You are nowhere near weak.” You finished your statement.

You clamped your arms around the speechless boy in front of you, a few tears leaking from your eyes.

“I’m sorry I slapped you.” Your tone changed, becoming apologetic and soft. Bakugou raised his arms to hug you back despite wanting to cuss you out for slapping him.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit sometimes.” You said resting your head on his shoulder.

“You did amazing, you always do amazing, no matter what, don’t sell yourself short because you didn’t place 1st.” You smiled, pulling away.

Bakugou enjoyed your hugs. You were the only one he would hug. 

“Thanks.” Bakugou mumbled, looking around at the damage he’d caused.

“Let me see your arms.” You said softly, knowing how much pullback his quirk had on his arms, they’d most likely in excruciating pain right now.

Bakugou raised his arm and you looked at it, noticing the slight discoloration on his upper arm to his wrist.

“Go take a nice cool shower, and meet me back in my dorm so we can study for Mic’s test. Maybe you’ll get a cookie.” You walked beside him, exiting the gym.

“A cookie? What am I five?” Bakugou groaned, rolling his eyes.

“You love my cookies, hush.”

“Shut up nerd.” Bakugou retorted his lips pointing upward in a smile.

“You’re smiling! You like my cookies! You’re so sweet.”

“Alright! I like the stupid cookies.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[getyallsshippingjuice]

Complete

(This is romantic Remus and Roman you have been warned.)

(Pre series) He had been alone in the imagination. Well as alone as he gets surrounded by fake citizens. The point was there were no other sides there with him. Logan and Patton never really spent much time with him and he wasn’t allowed to see any of the others. So he was alone, as he had been for the past week.

He decided to throw a party to cheer himself up, a masquerade since he felt like it. He dressed up for it in a black and red suit, a change of pace from his white and red prince suit. Sometimes the white was just too bright and it lacked depth.

Either way he danced with figments not a word spoken. They never had anything interesting to say when he knew what they were going to say. That was until one wearing a puffy green shirt and black pants took his hand and spun him around. “You come here often?”

Was he...flirting? Roman smirked, “Once or twice.” The man was wearing a frilly black mask that made his eyes look intense. He wasn’t following the script that Roman had made up in his head. The only time things happened off script was when he needed something new to happen.

So he went with it.

“You seem upset.” The man commented tilting his head slightly to the side. His red eyes staring deep into Roman’s green ones. “Is the party boring?”

“Of course not! This is..fun.” Roman said, his voice sounding fake to even himself.

The man hummed. "You don't sound sure."

"I'm having fun." Roman said firmly more to confirm if to himself than to this random guy.

“I know how to make it more fun.” the man said with a wink. Roman stared at him for a second before sputtering.

“Oh..that’s...not..I mean. No thank you.” Roman said, causing the man to laugh.

Roman smiled for real for the first time in a long time.

---

Janus told him to stay away from the others but the imagination was his place even if he normally didn’t leave his side. So when he finds out that Roman is throwing himself another pity party he has to check it out.

He didn’t expect to actually feel bad for Roman. He didn’t expect to see Roman looking depressed af and wandering around silently. He also didn’t expect that he didn’t make himself the center of attention. He was just...sad

So he swept over and drug Roman into conversion as they danced simply to the music that played. He stared when he managed to get Roman to smile. It was so..pure. Just pure happiness. No twisted thoughts poorly hidden underneath.

Maybe it was impulsive but that’s what he did. He kissed him wondering if he could taste the happiness that wasn’t tainted by some negative emotion. He felt Roman stiffen before relaxing into the kiss. Remus pulled back. “Sorry. I should have asked.” Roman had just declined his offer and he went ahead anyway.

Roman blinked before opening his mouth but no sound came out. Remus smirked, “I didn’t think that would make you speechless.” He teased.

Roman teared up and Remus panicked. He didn’t mean to cause him to cry! He took a step back and Roman took the chance to disappear into the crowd, Remus tried to follow him only to find him gone. He cursed before leaving.

He tore the mask off and threw it on his floor. “Stupid.” He muttered falling face first onto his bed. At least Roman didn’t know that it was him.

---

Roman felt awful for running but he didn’t want his first kiss to be with someone fake. Not that he wanted to kiss Patton or Logan. He didn’t really have anyone he did want to kiss. But he didn’t want it to be fake. He wanted it to matter and not be some glitch in a script.

His fingers traced his lips, the ghost feeling of the kiss messing with him. Even if it was fake..He wanted to do it again. He wanted to talk to that guy again. He seemed more real, more put together than anyone else he ever made. He wondered if maybe Remus made him and he just wandered over. That would explain the bluntness.

He looked at himself in the mirror, what was the harm in a little fantasy? As long as Remus didn’t find out about it, or any of the others for that matter. He could keep a secret.

It would be fun and maybe make him feel less lonely.

A couple weeks passed before he got the nerve to throw another party and hope that HE would show up again. He called himself for stupid for looking forward to it. To see someone that was practically a living puppet to fill an empty space, but he needed someone in that space. And if that was a made up mystery man then he would take it.

God he was desperate wasn’t he?

He was pulled from his thoughts as there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned and lit up as the man was there, mask and all. “Miss me?” He asked confidently.

Roman laughed, “You wish.” He did but he wasn’t going to just say that! He didn’t want to seem desperate even if this was fake. Roman held out his hand, “Care for a dance?”

The man took his hand, “Only if I get to lead.”

They moved in sync. “I don’t know what to call you.” Roman mused not noticing the man stiffen. “I’ve been calling you Mask in my head which is rather silly.”

“Mask works.” He said smiling. Roman huffed.

“So I don’t get to know your name?”

“You’ll have to earn that.” Mask winked and Roman’s heart did a little stutter. He brushed it off by laughing lightly hoping that Mask didn’t pick up on his nerves. Why was he so nervous?

“Then I will endeavour to do so.” Roman vowed as he let himself be turned in a circle. Mask’s eyes were glued to his face as they danced. He almost never blinked which was a little unnerving but if Remus did make him then that was to be expected. Mask might go psycho on him at any moment.

Still more fun than listening to Logan and Patton. They never wanted to really listen to him and seemed to think they were better because their jobs were more important. He was too in the clouds and his expectations for events were too unreal.

He was just for fun. He didn’t get to speak on important matters.

“Are you ok? You got quiet.” Mask said. Roman noticed they stopped dancing, standing in the middle of the dance floor.

Roman shook his head. “My apologies, I was just...thinking.”

“Spew it out.” Mask said cheerfully leading him away from the crowd and into the garden.

“I guess...I mean I shouldn’t complain.” Roman said. He wasn’t sure that mask wouldn’t just tell Remus everything he said. He didn’t want his brother laughing at him, but then again he probably already was. Remus was probably laughing his ass off at the fact that Roman kissed Mask. Or not he hadn't seen his brother in so long he didn't know what Remus was like now days. Probably just as bloody and violent as he used to be.

“It’s good to get things off your chest before you explode.” Mask said sitting them down on a bench.

“No one listens to me!” Roman said angrily. “I mean I get it! I’m not important or real enough but my opinion should matter too!”

“You think people don’t listen to you?” Mask said in an almost angry tone.

Roman rubbed his face and slumped in on himself. “I know they don’t. I told Logan the same story four times and he still doesn’t remember what it’s about. And Patton..Don’t even get me started on how I can’t get anything right for him! That story is too sad! It needs a happy ending!”

Roman sighed and shook his head. “Maybe I’m the problem.”

Mask was silent. Roman didn’t expect advice from him, at least useful advice. “I think...You need a friend.”

“Are you offering?” Roman said off hand.

“Yeah...yeah I am.” Mask’s gaze was intense. Almost threatening. Roman still expected him to try and stab him in his sleep.

“Well… it’s nice to have a friend then.” Roman said honestly. Even if it's fake.

---

Remus was almost skipping around his room. Roman wanted to spend time with him! Well… He wanted to spend time with Mask but that was close enough for him! He could keep toning it down so he didn’t push Roman away.

He sat down on his bed and stared at the mask in his hands, the key to what might actually be a real friendship. Not like what he had now with everyone slightly afraid of him. Or ignoring him. Or hating him.

He felt a little bad that he was lying to Roman about it but that was easily brushed off. Roman didn’t need to know and besides, Roman was lonely too! This would be fine!

He put the mask on his nightstand as he got up to work on a random thought he wanted to follow. A painting of Roman alone in the dark. The pull to create was almost impossible to ignore. He painted with his fingers, letting the colors blur at the edges making it seem like some kind of melting nightmare.

He sat back to look at his newest masterpiece and found himself smiling, He wanted to see his brother again. Of course he would have to wait, which was hell for him to do but looking at the painting again, he found he had something to do to fill his time.

---

Roman was sitting in his room sketching mindlessly for a while before he realized that he was drawing the same pair of eyes surrounded by black lace over and over again. Those eyes that he knew he had seen before, but couldn’t place. It felt like someone he hadn’t seen in forever. Someone he missed.

Roman felt guilty again for letting himself indulge in whatever this was. Romantic encounters with someone that wasn’t real. But he was the romantic side, he thrived off of romance so it was just...in his nature to do this…. Right?

He could almost hear Patton telling him off for being selfish and doing something like this. Logan calling it a needless waste of time just like he was. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, muttering under his breath as he saw wet spots on his drawing from tears.

And Patton was supposed to be the emotional one.

Roman paused before grabbing a canvas. If he was going to make art of Mask he was going to make it good damn it! The lines were clear and bright, before long Roman had a painting of Mask smiling at him in a soft candle lit setting, one hand outstretched. The shadows are soft and non threatening. He looks like someone Roman could trust.

Someone he could love.

Waiting a week to see him again was going to be hard.

---

Roman saw Mask first this time. The party wasn't a masquerade but he still wore his mask. He was dressed in white and sea green this time. An octopus ring circling his thumb. There wasn't any doubt in Roman's mind that Mask was made by Remus. He was honestly impressed that Mask had so much deepth. If he could, he would ask Remus how he made him.

Pushing that thought out of his head he walked up and tapped Mask's shoulder. Mask turned to look at him and had a smile on that was borderline demenated. “You came!” They both said at the same time causing them to laugh.

“Well it is my party.” Roman said, “But I did it to see you.”

Mask, for the first time, was speechless and Roman counted that as a win in his book. “I wonder if we could go for a walk instead of dancing?” Roman asked.

Mask nodded, “As long as you’ll be there it sounds great.” Roman turned away so that Mask couldn’t see his face warming.

“I’ll lead the way.”

It took a moment to calm down and he could swear he heard Mask snicker behind him. He cleared his throat as he turned away and almost jumped as Mask was right behind him. “So…”

“Yeah?” Mask said.

Roman blurted out the first question he could think of. “Why did you kiss me before?”

Mask blinked, “You’re just now asking about that?”

“Well...I mean… yes.” Roman said looking away.

“I wanted to know what happiness tasted like.” Mask said almost wistful. Roman looked at him confused. “I mean, you just seemed so...happy and I thought maybe I could figure out how that tasted.”

“Would you like to try again?” Roman asked before he thought about it. When Mask looked at him he sputtered, “I mean you don’t have to it’s just a suggest-”

Mask cut him off by kissing him.

---

Remus pulled back and watched the way Roman held his eyes closed for a few seconds more before looking at him with something akin to fondness. It made his heart feel all squishy like a crushed grape, but also warm and comfortable.

He liked it.

“So anything you want to get off your chest?” He asked, causing Roman to start.

“Right! Walking! And talking!” Roman turned and started a slow pace that Remus easily kept up with. He started ranting about the Morality and Logic, both of which ignored him most of the time. “It’s only when they need something-”

“At least you’re needed.” Remus muttered not noticing he spoke aloud until Roman stopped and looked at him.

“Why are you here?” Roman asked, looking at him intensely.

“You asked me to be here.” Remus reminded him.

Roman looked disappointed. He turned away. “Right...I keep forgetting you aren’t..”

Remus wanted to rip his mask off but he knew that would just get him kicked out faster than he could explain. So for once in his life he fought off his impulses and just stood there. Roman stared off in the distance towards where Remus’ area was.

“Do you want to be here?”

Remus didn’t expect the question as far as Roman knew, he wasn’t real. He was nothing more than a thought that one of them had. Unless he knew that he wasn’t that. “It’s better than over there.” Remus said, looking off in the same direction.

“I wouldn’t judge it too harshly.” Roman said. “I’m sure my brother has his own charm.” Roman looked down, “Or maybe not...how would I know?” He muttered to himself.

“Do you miss him?” Remus asked.

“Maybe..or maybe I just miss feeling...complete.” Roman shook his head. “Not that I can see him...Patton is...firm about that.”

“Does he hurt you?” Roman looked at him startled.

Roman laughed nervously, “What? No! That’s ridiculous he would never hurt anyone...at least not on purpose.” Remus didn’t like the sound of that. “Is he happy?” Roman asked before Remus could comment.

“No.” Remus said.

Roman looked almost wistful at the dark forest. “Let’s talk about something less depressing.”

“What do you think Frogs taste like?” Remus asked.

“I hope you aren’t saying kissing me is like kissing a frog.” Roman said.

Remus didn’t know how he made that jump in his thought process but he ran with it. “Well you are a prince.”

Roman laughed at that, “Does that make you my princess?”

Remus snorted before cackling at the thought. “Sure! I’ll get a dress and everything!”

“Well I think you could pull off an evening gown.” Roman said looking him up and down.

“Oh I could pull it off!” Remus winked and Roman shoved his shoulder gently. Roman covered his smile.

“Of course that’s where you would go.” Roman grumbled, still smiling.

“You could wear a dress too.” Remus suggested. Roman stared at him. “I mean it! You’d look fantastic in a ball gown. Red and frilly seem like your style.”

“And what if I dressed in your style instead?” Roman asked teasingly. “Something green and black?” Remus’ mouth was suddenly very dry. He cleared his throat.

“Very good.”

Roman laughed.

---

“I can’t dance in this.” Roman grumbled as he bunched up the dress so he could sit down. Remus was trying very very hard to not laugh. Roman was just so pouty and grumpy. Like a half drowned cat.

Remus plopped down next to him, his dress not nearly as frilly and was easier to move in without tripping. “Well it was worth a shot.”

Roman hummed before half smiling at him. “This was fun. For real.” Roman looked down at his hands in his lap. This matter of real or fake bothered him. Remus didn’t get it, they were fake too weren’t they? But in a different way.

“What if..” Roman looked up at him. “What if I was real?” Remus asked.

“That’s a nice thought. But you’d have to be someone I Know and-” Roman snapped his head up to stare at him. Remus took off his mask.

“Surprise?”

Roman looked panicked. “No you can’t...Remus?!? What the hell!” He demanded jumping to his feet.

“Why do you think?” Remus asked, a little hurt by Roman’s reaction.

Roman was shaking, he looked….scared. “Look it’s ok-”

“No it’s not! Do you have any idea what’s going to happen if someone finds out?” Roman’s breathing was getting faster and Remus knew what a panic attack looked like. He grabbed Roman’s hands and started tapping out a pattern of four. “Just breathe.”

Roman calmed down slowly. “I can’t...You weren’t supposed to know about this!”

“Why not?” Remus asked.

“Because,” Roman tightened his hands in Remus’ “If you know then other people will know and If that happens…. I don’t know what they’ll do.”

Remus pulled him into a tight hug. “I won’t let them do anything to you.” He whispered sharply. Roman held on to him tightly.

----

Roman was in his room WITH REMUS! He locked the door and blocked it with the dresser, he doubted either Patton or Logan would come by but on the off chance they did. He was pacing as Remus watched laying on his bed.

“I’m so stupid for not seeing this before!” Roman groaned.

“Hey! I like to think I’m at least a little sneaky!” Remus said before he caught sight of a painting on the wall. “Is… is that me?”

Roman looked up at his painting of Mask- of Remus? “Yeah I...couldn’t get you off my mind.”

“Did you only make one? because I made twelve.” Remus said jumping off the bed to get a closer look at it.

“You make paintings of me?” Roman asked.

“Yeah! Wanna see?” Remus asked, holding his hand out, not unlike the painting.

Roman took it.

It didn’t take long for Remus to sneak Roman to his room. He locked the door and turned on the light to show several large paintings. Roman covered his mouth with his hands before slowly reaching out and brushing the dried paint with his fingertips. It was dark and gritty and sad. “You painted how I feel.” Roman breathed.

“So you like them?” Remus asked nervously. Roman beamed at him and nodded.

“You captured my loneliness and sadness.” Roman said, “I love it.”

“Oh! I know what we should do!” Remus said excitedly, “Make an art gallery in that one empty hall you have in your castle!”

“That’s a great idea!” Roman said grabbing Remus shoulders and tugging him in for a quick kiss before freezing. He backed up. “Sorry! I didn’t..”

“Hey.” Remus said firmly putting his hand under Roman’s chin and making him look up at him. “Did you like it?”

“What the kiss?” Remus nodded. “I..yes?”

“Then don’t let anyone tell you it was wrong.” Remus said firmly. “You are your own person and you can make your own choices.”

Roman blinked, “I can? ..I mean I can!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

---

They still meet up every week but this time they worked together on projects they wanted to make. Their art gallery was quickly full and overflowing into the rest of the castle. It was no longer filled with fake people but paintings and art that made it feel far more alive.

The halls were filled with laughter and talking. Roman felt complete.

(After accepting anxiety.)

Roman was laying on a couch in the art studio that had been a dinning hall. Remus was painting the ceiling. He sighed dramatically for the fifteenth time in as many minutes.

“You’re being all depressio expressio again.” Remus said without looking away from the very gory piece he was working on.

“I know! I just...I feel like...What if I’m the bad guy?” Roman asked. Remus paused so he could look down at him.

“You think YOU are bad? What in the name of hell gave you that idea?” Remus asked.

“Well I’m not the nicest person.” Roman said.

“You have flaws? Hello? That’s normal?” Remus said.

“I’m dating my brother.” Roman shot back.

Remus smiled, “We’re dating?”

Roman blinked, “I...we are aren’t we? Or did you not want to-”

“No! I fucking love that! You just never said it before!” Remus said, jumping off the ladder and making Roman cry out in alarm before he landed fine.

“Give me a heart attack.” Roman muttered sitting up as Remus could sit down next to him.

“I try.” Remus said laying down so his head was in Roman’s lap. “So, you feel bad because you’re dating me?”

“Well not that’s it you just...you know.” Roman said.

“Oh! The incestous part of it!” Remus wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m not even supposed to talk to you. I doubt anyone would approve of-”

“Does it make you happy?” Remus asked firmly.

Roman rolled his eyes. “You know it does.”

Remus laughed, “I know. It just feels nice for you to say!” Roman kissed Remus’ forehead.

“I’ll try and say it more then.” Roman promised brushing Remus’ hair back. Remus hummed and closed his eyes, a happy duke getting head pets. Remus was a lot softer than people expected. Sure he was terrifying but he could also be soft.

He just never wanted to be seen as afraid.

Just like Roman never wanted to be seen as evil.

Roman would just have to try harder to be good.

(After dealing with intrusive thoughts)

"Everything you don't want to be?" Remus asked.

Roman stiffened before spinning around and glaring at Remus, "YOU knocked me out TWICE!"

Remus shifted, "You said to make it look good!"

"I didn't mean attack me!" Roman said his voice strained. Remus reached towards him and...he flinched. Remus watched as Roman took a step away from him. "I didn't mean what I said."

"I'm sorry." Remus said, "I went too far."

"It's fine." Roman said in a tone that clearly said that it wasn't. "Can we just...forget about it?"

Remus didn't want to but he agreed anyway, trying to ignore the guilt everything Roman tensed when he moved close.

He could only watch as Roman got progressively worse.

Roman was depressed. He gave up everything he dreamed about in the name of what he thought would make him a good person. So why did he feel so...terrible?

Worse was he couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling whenever Remus would move suddenly. He expected him to attack him again and it was just...he wished things played out differently.

(After selfishness verses selflessness redux)

"Roman?" Remus asked as Roman was curled up in a ball in the corner of his room. Roman didn't respond until Remus sat down next to him.

"I failed." His voice was bitter. He looked up, dark shadows under bloodshot eyes. "I tried so hard and I failed."

"You made mistakes-"

"I'm not a good person, Remus." Roman said, cutting him off. "I'm not a hero or a prince. I'm just...Roman. stupid and cruel."

Remus slowly pulled him into a hug. "You get scared and you lash out. That doesn't make you evil."

"It doesn't matter." Roman said, his voice devoid of feeling. "Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm done. I just… I can't keep doing this anymore." Remus' stomach filled with ice, sharp and cold.

"Yes you can! Listen to me!" Remus forced Roman to face him. "I do not give a fuck whatever everyone else says you are not giving up on me!"

Roman teared up, "I'm sorry I can't be better."

Remus hugged him angry at everyone for the pain his brother was going through. Angry at himself for letting it happen.

---

Now that Remus was around more often it was getting harder to keep the fact they were together underwraps. Roman had a feeling Janus knew, he would give him long looks before looking at Remus and back. He would smile in an unfriendly way. Possible still made about the whole name thing, Roman and apologized but it didn't seem like it was enough.

Roman wasn't enough.

Remus watched as everyone just accepted Roman not talking anymore, brushing off his feelings and saying he was 'pouting'. Roman only ever talked to Thomas and Remus at this point and the others...were fine with that.

They didn't care.

One part of Remus was sickly happy about it. He got Roman to himself for the most part. But the other part was furious that they didn't care. He wanted to smack some sense into them but Roman told him not too.

Roman's ideas got darker. He stopped wearing his prince suit and switched it out for a white turtleneck and black pants. No one other than Remus commented on the change.

"You look good in anything but are you happy?" Remus asked when Roman asked how he looked.

"At least I still look ok." Roman said ignoring the question before going to work. He struggled to make more 'good' ideas and Logan was getting tired of waiting.

Remus almost bashed Logan's face in whenever he showed up and asked if Remus could try and replace Roman in case he might have something that would work. Remus stiffly declined.

He never told Roman about the offer but he knew the second Roman found out by the way the light in his eyes dulled.

Remus had to do something.

So he threw a party.

---

Roman wasn't sure why he was blindfolded and drugged off through his own castle but he didn't question Remus' surprises anymore. The quiet muttering of a crowd met his ears before the blindfold was removed and replaced with a mask.

"You threw a party?" Roman asked blinking.

Remus grabbed his brother's hand tightly. "It's the same party where we met...again." Remus said, dragging him out onto the dancefloor.

Roman smiled, the circles under his eyes still there but there was a spark of life in him again. Remus stopped in one spot. "Our first kiss." He said.

Roman chuckled and leaned in giving Remus a kiss, soft and quick but enough to make them both smile. "I'll always be here for you."

"And I for you." Roman promised putting his hand on Remus' cheek.

"Sap."

"You started it."

Remus hummed. "I did didn't I?"

Roman leaned his forehead against Remus' and closed his eyes focusing on the feeling of being with him. Of feeling complete.

They swayed slightly to the music. Time not mattering, the outside world not mattering, just this moment. When they left they would face the others but Roman decided they would face them together.

Even if they got angry or disapproved. They would have each other.

[capfalcon]

destined

(stevetony AU. commission for my darling @stevetvny.)

Tony doesn’t even want to go to the party. The idea of dressing up just to go to a work party feels dumb and stupid and like a complete waste of his time. But because Tony is a good friend, and because Rhodey won the game or rock paper scissors, here Tony is, at said work party, dressed up, despite the fact that everyone here is too drunk to care, or to even notice.

“I am so bored,” he whines, leaning his head against Rhodey’s shoulder. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”

Rhodey huffs a little and sets down his glass before Tony can knock it over. “Because I got promoted, Tony? Ring a bell?”

Tony rolls his eyes and shuffles a little on his feet. “Yes, yes you did, and I’m very proud of you, sugar bear, but why do I have to be here?”

“Because if I’m going to be miserable for tonight, so are you. It’s only fair,” Rhodey says, and Tony doesn’t even have to see him to know that he’s smirking.

“You’re a menace,” Tony grumbles, and Rhodey shakes his head.

“Love you too, Tony.”

Tony huffs again and stands up, looking around the room. “Open bar, right?” he asks Rhodey, grabbing his glass.

Rhodey tilts his head and shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, but if you get wasted, I’m not carrying your drunk ass back to your apartment.”

Tony smirks and walks off to the bar, weaving through the crowd, various people in different stages of sobriety. He finally manages to make it to the bar, and he leans against the counter, setting down his glass and gesturing for another one.

The bartender gives him a quick once over and then sets about pouring Tony’s drink, so Tony takes the chance to survey the room. Maybe the night doesn’t have to be a complete disaster. After all, a lot of Rhodey’s coworkers are pretty and attractive, so maybe Tony can make some good come out of this.

He’s scanning the room, looking for viable candidates when the bartender taps him on the shoulder and slides his drink in front of him.

“If I were you, I’d be looking to your right,” she says, and Tony swivels his head to see who she’s talking about.

It takes a little while to see him, but once he does, Tony nearly chokes on his goddamn drink.

What the fuck? he thinks, coughing.

It’s not that the stranger is absurdly hot or something, although he is, it’s the fact that said stranger is Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers as in, Tony’s former arch-nemesis, his most hated person in the world, Steve Rogers.

Fuck, Tony thinks, looking him up and down. Jesus fuck. What the hell, universe? There is no way in hell that should be fair.

Rogers is leaning against the bar, smiling at Tony, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. When Tony finally stops coughing, and when he’s grabbed his drink, he manages to walk over to him, standing next to him.

“Been a while,” he says, purposefully looking at anything that isn’t Steve, because goddamn, Tony might actually melt. Steve had been attractive in high school, but he’d been so sickly, so fragile and otherwise unhealthy that Tony had never really paid much attention to that part of him.

But now, there’s no denying the confidence in which he holds himself, all broad shoulders and muscles, smiling down at Tony. It’s almost enough to make Tony choke again, the way Steve’s biceps are fighting the shirt he’s wearing.

“It has,” Steve says in a soft tone, and damn, was his voice always so low and sultry, because Tony thinks he’d remember that.

“How you been?” Tony asks, trying to ignore the giant red warning signs going off in his brain.

“Good,” Steve replies, turning so that he can look Tony in the eyes. “You?”

Tony shrugs a shoulder. “You know, here and there.”

Steve smiles a little wider, almost a laugh, and Tony wants to choke him, he really does, because how is that even fair? You’re making it really hard to keep hating you, Tony thinks, knocking the rest of his drink back a little viciously.

“So, why are you here?” Steve asks, and Tony blinks himself back to the present.

Tony turns his head, looking for Rhodey, and then points when he finds him. “I’m here because Rhodey, the absolute bastard, made me come. This isn’t even my work party. I’m his plus one, which is funny, because he really has a crush on some girl in HR, I think her name’s Carol?”

“Carol’s nice,” Steve says thoughtfully. “She was Air Force.”

Tony tilts his head and considers that thought. “Rhodey never told me. Interesting.”

“You always were joined at the hip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rhodes,” Steve says, tilting his head at him. “In high school. You guys did practically everything together.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, shrugging. “Look what that got me. At a work party that isn’t even mine, talking to the guy who used to hate my guts in high school.”

Steve’s smile drops right off his face, and it twists into something unpleasant, pained and regretful.

“Tony,” he starts, “About that.”

“-No, no,” Tony says, waving a hand. “The past is past, right Rogers? I agree to move on, you do too? Besides, why did we even hate each other? Some dumb reason, I’m sure. So let’s move on, I forgive you, I’m sorry, all that other bullshit. Sound good?”

Steve blinks at him slowly, processing the word vomit Tony’s just spewed out. “No,” he finally says, and Tony feels his heart stop.

“What do you mean no?”

“No. I was a jerk to you without a reason, and I’m sorry. That was on me.”

And jesus, what’s Tony supposed to say to that? Thank you?

“Cool,” he finally settles on, and he wants to slap himself. “I mean-I’m sorry too. I don’t know why I hated you.”

Except I do, he thinks, in the privacy of his own head. You were always so fucking perfect, all the time. And the way you looked at me. It was like I feel ants crawling under my skin. I could never tell if I wanted to hit you or kiss you.

And then suddenly, because Tony’s dumb and impulsive and a little bit self-sacrificing, he claps his hands together and pushes himself away from the bar.

“Great,” he says, smiling at Steve, “Now that we’ve gotten the unpleasantries out of the way, why don’t we blow this popsicle stand? Not that I’m not loving the whole, depressed, mid-life crisis vibe in here, but it’s kinda harshing my mellow, if you feel me?”

Steve quirks his lips at Tony, and shakes his head, smiling. “Okay,” he says, slowly, “But this isn’t going to be like that one time in high school where you ran through the hallways wearing a pink, glittery leotard, is it?”

Tony’s mouth drops open and he shakes a finger at Steve. “God,” he says, speechless, “That’s slander, and I don’t appreciate it, Rogers.”

Steve laughs a little, and Tony finds himself basking in the sound, its warmth and comfort, as if it’s such a natural thing, for Steve Rogers to be laughing at a joke Tony’s made.

“Where do you want to go?” Steve asks, pushing the door open for Tony, and god if that doesn’t make him swoon, just the slightest bit.

“I know this great burger joint,” Tony offers, and Steve nods, following Tony out the door.

“Okay,” Steve replies, soft, and his eyes are strange as they meet Tony’s, unguarded and watchful, as if he’s contemplating something.

They end up getting burgers at a place across the street, and as Steve dips a french fry into his milkshake and then looks up at Tony, eyes lit up with amusement, Tony feels the same way he used to in high school, back when they’d been dumb kids, and sworn enemies.

“So,” Steve asks, sliding the basket of fries over to Tony, his tone teasing, “How come you’re being so nice to me all of a sudden? Is it the muscles?”

Tony chokes on his coke and proceeds to have an intense coughing fit before he can meet Steve’s eyes again.

“That’s the second time tonight, Rogers,” he says, shaking his head, “You’re bad for my health.”

“Aww,” Steve says, his eyes bright, “You’re not the first person that’s told me that, although I am flattered.”

And that makes Tony blush, genuinely blush, before he can speak again.

“No,” he finally says, meeting Steve’s eyes, “It’s not the muscles.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, intrigued. “What is it then? Because if I’m being real, I kind of thought it was.”

“No!” Tony blurts out, too quickly for his liking. “I didn’t pick on you during high school because of how you looked, Steve, jeez, I’m an asshole, but I’m not a complete dick, at least, I hope not. I picked on you because I was confused and you were always so fucking perfect all the time, and also, not to mention, I was slightly completely infatuated with you.”

Steve pauses, a french fry half way towards his mouth, and then his eyes widen.

“Wait,” he says, “What?”

Tony tilts his head and sighs. “Really, Rogers? You want me to repeat it?”

“I just want to make sure I heard you right.”

“You’re a complete dick, and I hate you.”

“Really?” Steve asks, leaning forward. “Because I don’t think that’s what you said. Something more along the lines of infatuation?”

Tony grins and rolls his eyes, reaching a hand out to swat at Steve. “You’re terrible.”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, grinning at Tony over his milkshake, “But you like it.”

“Doubtful,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re full of shit, Stark,” Steve retorts, but there’s no heat behind it.

Tony grins back, and they finish their fries, smiling stupid wide grins at each other from across the table. Eventually, the store closes, and they wind up outside, leaning against the hood of Steve’s car.

“I liked you too,” Steve says, soft and quiet while looking up at the sky.

“Sorry, what was that?” Tony teases, and Steve huffs, elbowing Tony in the side.

“I liked you a lot. I never really knew what to do. You were always so…so much. You were so loud and so bossy and god, you acted like you knew everything. It was exhausting, keeping up with you, Tony.”

“You did alright, Rogers.”

Steve snorted, looking up at the stars. “Yeah,” he said softly, “But whenever you’d step too close while yelling at me, I’d count the freckles on your nose, or the times you blinked. Come to think of it, it wasn’t exactly what I’d call healthy.”

Tony laughs, and scoots closer to Steve. “That one time, in drama? You remember that?”

“Of course.”

“I almost kissed you. You were so damn close and so fucking annoying, jesus. I just wanted to grab you and make you shut up, for one damn second.”

Steve laughed, the sound loud in the quiet air. “You should’ve,” he said, turning to meet Tony’s eyes. “I would’ve thanked you for it.”

“Yeah?” Tony breathes, and his brain is short circuiting a little, because Steve is so close, and his voice is that deep kind of low that Tony’s always loved.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, and it’s barely sound, just breath between their mouths.

When they finally lean in fully, the kiss is soft and gentle, and Tony finds himself fighting the urge to smile against Steve’s mouth. Steve’s hand comes up to cup Tony’s jaw, and Tony winds one arm around his waist. They both taste like the milkshakes they just had, and it’s kind of perfect, kissing in an empty parking lot, under the stars.

“So?” Steve asks, when they pull away, his thumb gently caressing Tony’s cheek, “How was it?”

“Overdue,” Tony replies, grinning, “10 years overdue.”

“Worth it?”

Tony laughs, pulling Steve back in. “A thousand percent. So worth it. Perfect.”

They stay there until Rhodey texts Tony a picture of them making out on the hood of Steve’s car, captioned with a text that reads: “FUCKIN’ FINALLY! ONLY TOOK YOU TEN YEARS!”

commission me! 

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1.5 OR Chapter 2

➜ Words: 4.9k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: depiction of throwing up.

➜ Notes: oh shitttt, here’s finally Hoseok’s slice of life series. buckle up, folks. there’s an entire adventure waiting ahead.

Sometimes life can be so entirely mundane that you forget your surroundings. The routine falls into place, yesterday becoming today, tomorrow a reflection of all the other days until time blurs all together. Your body goes on autopilot, mind operating somewhere else as your skin and bones carry forth. And that’s how sometimes, you snap awake again and wonder:   How the hell did I get here?   Such a moment is now when you’re pulling up on the curb in front of a nightclub.   You scramble out the door before walking over to the two people standing in the street and greeting them. One girl is obviously wasted, mumbling incoherently and slumped over her more sober friend. The latter female grumbles in annoyance and thanks you when you help open the door, guiding her drunk friend inside.   “Where are you off to this evening?” you ask while closing your door, hands gripping on the steering wheel.   “Sixth street, please,” the sober one says in the backseat before she reaches over to her companion and tries to seat belt the girl in. But said girl only waves her off and instead leans over to where the front seat is. Her short blonde haircut brushes against her forehead, nearly pricking into her eyes that are blackened by smudged mascara. Her little black dress rides up unattractively and you realize her three inch high heels are held in her hands.   Every word is slurred and spoken slowly. “Wher’ ar’ we go...i..ng?”   “Home,” her friend answers. She appears a lot more put together than the other girl, sleek black hair behind her, deep blue dress complimenting her red lipstick. “Now can you please sit down so we can go, Choa?”   “No! Don’t wanna!” But the intoxicated female gets buckled in anyhow, despite her little temper tantrum. You offer a sympathetic smile to her friend before nodding and merging onto the street again. “Drive to his house! I wanna give him a piece of my mind!”   “No, you are not going to call him again. You won’t contact him. You most certainly will not go to his house. Come on! You’re better than this.”   “No, I’m not! I’m weak and I love him, Yura!” Choa wails out in sobs and the other girl sighs in exhaustion. “And that fucking bastard took my heart and ripped it into shreds! He cheated on me, can you believe that?!”   You realize she’s talking to you, so you nod, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Sounds horrible…”   “Yeah! He cheated with my fucking mother!” She laughs hysterically, on the verge of violent sobs. “He’s a motherfucker!”   You raise your brows, finding it difficult to keep your eyes on the road when you’re brought to such speechlessness. “That’s...uh…that’s really unfortunate.”   “He was supposed to marry me!” She’s screaming in both spite and sadness. “I even picked out a wedding dress! It was a Vera Wang! And I lost the receipt! What am I supposed to do with it now?!”   She continues on her rant, spilling all her deepest darkest secrets to you, a stranger. “You know, I thought he was cheating on me with that bitch secretary of his. I know she tried to seduce him on a business trip once, but he told me he loved me and he wouldn’t want anyone else but me. And..and..and I trusted him! But lo and behold, I go back to my family’s house and what do I find?! He’s fucking sleeping with my mom! My mom! Out of all people!”   You swallow hard, moving your hands on the steering wheel, taking a left down the avenue. You don’t know what to say or how to console the girl. It sounds absolutely horrible and you empathize deeply, especially when she’s grieving in your backseat and her cries are bloodcurdling like she lost a child.   “I never liked him anyways,” Yura snaps. “You deserve better, Choa. Good riddance it’s over. He’s your ex now, so there’s no point in being hung up on him.”   “But that doesn’t change the fact that I love him!” She’s yelling and crying, and you snap out of your trance, flinching from her deafening wail. You accelerate a little more to get to the destination faster. “I still LOVE HIM!”   “You’re better off without him.”   “You don’t understand!” Choa sobs without stopping and then she looks at you again, catching your attention in the rear-view mirror. “Haven’t you had an ex that you still love?”   “Choa, leave the taxi lady alone. Sorry,” she says to you before turning towards her drunk friend. “She needs to concentrate on driving!”   This is definitely the most interesting part of your job. Your little career is nothing impressive. It’s dull and you don’t make much. It’s barely enough to scrape by when you’re living in the city. After paying the lease of the cab, the fuel and maintenance, you only get to keep the fare and tips which leads to about three hundred a night. But at least you get to hear people’s stories, happy or sad. You get to see all sorts of different people and their backgrounds, see where they’re going, get a glimpse into their lives. It’s interesting to say the least.   Your lips part, about to give the girl some advice. You want to tell her to talk to him and see if he’s serious about fixing things or see if it’s really over. She also needs some time to heal and think about things, see what she wants and what’s best for her. After all, she can’t move on with her life without some sort of closure.   The first step is to sober up after tonight….   But you don’t get the chance to say these things, not when she suddenly leans over with a groan and the next words that comes from her mouth has a cold shiver running down your spine. “I think I’m going to be sick.”   You whip yourself around, almost hurting your neck in the process. The thought of having to spend the rest of the night on your knees scrubbing polyester seats and cleaning after someone’s vomit makes your blood run to ice. “Is she going to throw up?!”   The stoplight turns green and you’re forced to look back and drive, going over the speed limit by a bit. Yura taps her friends back and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Um...no, she won’t.”   There are gagging sounds.   The girl is retching at the back of her throat. And then it splashes. The bean burrito and vodka shots from earlier regurgitates from her mouth and plunks down in chunks, slapping all over the floor and the backseat. She hurls and heaves, spewing out endlessly. When she’s done, she burps and the putrid stench fills your small taxi all at once, making you want to vomit.   “Sorry…”   This is it. This is the last straw.   You need another job.

“I can’t do this anymore!”   The woman paces around, high heels clicking softly against the carpet as she storms around, arms crossed, trying to walk off her rage. She’s wrinkling her blazer and stretching her dress pants, but the man doesn’t make any comments. He’s too busy rubbing his temples with his thumbs behind the desk, leaning back in his swivel chair. The room is heavy with tension.   “Sunyi, calm down.”   “No! I won’t! Jimin, this is unacceptable!” She stops at his desk, hands pressing on the clean surface. “He can’t just take a case from me when I’ve been working on it for months! They were my clients!”   “Then speak to Hoseok. I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”   “But he won’t listen. You are a partner of this firm. You are his partner. Can’t you talk to him about it? This isn’t the first time and I’m fed up. This is not what I signed up for.”   Jimin sighs, not knowing what to say. His job is already full of mediation, he would rather get rammed by a school bus than deal with workplace conflicts on top of it. Sensing his hesitation, Sunyi stands straight and scoffs. “Can you afford to lose me? I know plenty of other places that would love a lawyer like me.” The threat is loud and clear and he stares back at her with narrowed eyes, not appreciating her tone of voice. “Jimin….talk to him.”   “Fine.” A long exhale escapes his mouth and his body slumps. “I’ll see what I can do.”   The female nods and opens the door, but she lingers for a second. “And can you please talk to Yoongi?”   “What is it now?”   “His attire is disgusting,” she spits. “He wears open-toed sandals around the office and doesn’t cut his toenails and the last thing I want to see before my lunch break is his dirty feet fungus.”   She storms out of the office and Jimin stands up from his spot in exasperation, calling out to her, but no one hears his woes. “Sunyi, I’m a lawyer! I’m not supposed to be dealing with problems like this!”   //   It’s a relatively normal afternoon. People are tapping away at their keyboards, preoccupied with documents and files upon files. A few legal assistants are helping the others, running across the office floor, murmuring things. The photocopier whirrs to life, phones ringing once in a while. It’s the glorious sound of work.   Jimin decides to go for another coffee cup and he times it perfectly to run into his best friend.   “Hey, bud.” They stand in the kitchen at the counter, side-by-side, facing the white cabinets. “Everything going alright?”   Jimin looks at him with a soft smile and crinkled eyes. Even when he’s a professional and dressed cleanly like one, his brunette hair and cute face makes him look like a kind boy-next-door. It’s not such a bad thing. If anything, it’s advantageous to have such a natural disguise, making opponents underestimate his abilities.   On the contrary, his partner’s appearance is as frighteningly scary as his personality. He’s dressed sharply in a black blazer and dress pants, polished and neat. His black hair is styled well with a strand curled at his forehead, strong brows accentuating a sharp jawline. Jimin realizes why he’s the one who appears more approachable in the office. Hoseok is just way too intimidating.   “Fine,” he responds curtly and picks up on what’s going on with his sharp perception. “What is it, Park?”   “We need to talk, Hoseok.”   He nods and looks over his shoulder, stirring his coffee mug before taking a sip. “Do you want to go into my office?”   “No, we shouldn’t alarm the others,” he says and the other male will never understand why he’s so sensitive to such little things. There’s no one in the kitchen anyway. He doesn’t know why Jimin is speaking so quietly either. “But listen, I need you to do something for me and if you don’t, I’m going to lose my shit.”   Hoseok lifts a brow. “What is it?”   “Do you know what I’ve been doing these days? I’ve been doing the job of an HR representative. I’m dealing with issues in this office every single day, all the petty little problems and the stupid drama.”   He scoffs and then laughs, having thought there was something more serious at hand. “That’s because you have no backbone. Do you see anyone coming to me with their issues?”   “That’s exactly it,” Jimin emphasizes. “You are half of the problems around here.”   “Really now…” Hoseok’s curiosity is piqued. “And who is having problems with me?”   “No. We are not going to discipline them or scare them or use whatever tactic you’re thinking of right now. We need to address this the right way. There will be absolutely no intimidation tactics or sweeping under the rug or warnings. We need to keep the tropes happy, Hoseok. Everyone needs to function well for this office to function well.”   He motions him to go on. “So…?”   “We need to hire someone for HR.”   Hoseok laughs. He throws his head back and gets a good chuckle. Then as he shakes his head, he takes his mug and begins walking down the hall towards both their offices. Jimin follows behind him with a growing scowl. “We’re going to open an HR department for fifteen people?”   “This is a high conflict office and you know it,” Jimin reasons with him. “There are problems every other day here and I’m tired. I can’t focus on my real job. We need someone here to solve conflicts and to deal with all the issues that I don’t want to deal with.”   “No.” Hoseok keeps it short and simple. “We aren’t going to do that. It’s unnecessary. Do you realize we would need to clear out another office and pay them? It’s an unnecessary expense in our budget. And not to mention, it’s ridiculous. Have you ever heard of a firm this size having an HR department?”   “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve made myself clear. I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you.” The shorter man stops the taller one, both of them standing in the middle of the hallway and quietly bickering underneath their breaths. “Hoseok, what is the name of our firm?”   “Not this again, Jimin. If you have something—”   “Hoseok. Answer my question.”   He rolls his eyes, tired of the other’s childish antics and getting flashbacks to days in university. Yet, Hoseok gives in with a long sigh. “Jung and Park.”   “Exactly. We’re in a team. It’s me and you—”   “Actually, that’s incorrect.” He gives a shit-eating grin, marring his cold exterior with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “It’s supposed to be you and I.”   “Don’t be an ass.” Jimin pouts. “We’re hiring someone for HR. That’s final. It’s what we and everyone else here needs.”   “Fine.” Hoseok gives in once more and nods his head. “Just hire someone.”   “Oh my god!” Jimin suddenly shrieks and scares the living daylights out of his partner. “You don’t hear anything that comes out of my mouth, do you?! No wonder people have issues with you!”   “What?”   “Hiring is part of the HR job and I’m not doing that anymore!” He throws his hands up into the air. “You hire someone. I’m done!”   “What?” Hoseok is still confused. “You want me to hire someone?”   “Yes! Finally, the man hears!” Jimin laughs manically, causing Hoseok to ponder how many coffee cups he’s had. He ends up skipping away, happy that one out of the heaps of problems is solved for now.   And Hoseok is left by himself, sighing.   Who the hell is he supposed to hire?

You need a job.   After you force yourself to sync your sleeping schedule back to the general public, sleeping at night instead of day as you’ve been doing for the past year, you go on a job hunt. First, you revamp your résumé. When you’re satisfied, you flip open the local newspaper until you realize this isn’t the nineteenth century and no one uses the newspaper anymore.   It’s been a long time since you’ve had to search for a job. Needless to say, you’re a bit rusty. But you still hold a lot of hope as you scour online for job postings. You write down phone numbers, giving them calls to see if they’re still hiring, most of which apologize and tell you they already have someone.   It’s difficult since the economy isn’t doing great, but you don’t give up. Every opportunity of work, you jump at the chance, calling or emailing, even printing out physical copies to go drop it off...that is until you run into a certain post…   Human Resource Manager Jung and Park Full-time $40-60k Salary   It’s right up your alley. It ticks off everything you want and everything that you can do. When you click on it, you get the specifics of the company, the details of the position, responsibilities and requirements. You qualify perfectly and even the location of the firm is only a mere subway ride away. The pay is decent, enough for you to live, and it’s unlike the taxi business where some nights you go home empty handed.   There could not be a better opportunity. It’s miraculous, a chance that fell from the Heavens.   But….you can’t do it.   “Is there a reason why you want to work at McDonalds?” The shift manager looks at you expectantly, voice a bit on the quieter side, making it hard to hear.   “Well, I’ve eaten at this franchise a lot.” You swallow hard, trying to hide your shaking hands and conceal the nervousness. “I think it would be really interesting to be on the other side of the counter.”   “Hmm, that’s nice,” she replies sincerely and nods with a kind smile.   At this point, you’re looking anywhere, any place where you can make some fast money before you search for a real career position. If you’re on a search forever, you won’t have money to pay the upcoming bills. Your savings will only do so much before they diminish into nothing.   “Hello.” You look over the bakery case towards the manager who’s preoccupied with some cakes.   “Hi, can I help you?”   “Um, are you possibly hiring at the moment?” You hold the stack of résumé close to your chest, not yet giving up.   “Unfortunately, no.” They give an apologetic expression. “We’re not looking for anyone.”   You walk around stores on the street and in the malls, bakeries and coffee shops, clothing stores and fast food chains. It feels like when you were a teenager again, looking for a summer part-time job and coming up short every single time. All the interviews done in corporate offices never call you back or they take your résumé without even actually taking a glance at it. And maybe that’s a good thing. You have nothing impressive about yourself. You don’t deserve a fancy job in some high rise or at some luxurious establishment. You’re not cut out for that life.   It’s plain and simple.   They wouldn’t want you.   “Can you handle a stressful environment?”   “I’d like to say I can.” You hum before laughing. “I was a summer councilor back in the day and someone lit a cabin on fire once, so I think it’s suffice to say, I can handle myself during an intense environment.”   The old woman across from you laughs heartily. You could feel it — this interview was going well. You might actually get the job and the excitement was making your eagerness double.   “Last question,” she flips a page and then folds her hands on the table. The woman looks deep into your eyes and is quiet for a moment as if she is trying to truly see the person in front of her and not just a candidate for the job. “Don’t you think you’re overqualified for the position?”   You frown. “Overqualified?”   “I mean, your work experience is very versatile. Your educational background is fantastic. I am quite fond of your personality. You seem like a genuinely earnest and hard-working individual. But, why here?” Her eyes bore deep into yours. “This is an elementary school administration position. All you would be doing is answering phones all day.”   “Well...I...uh….if this is about the salary, I’m completely fine with what you’ve offered. And I like stability. I don’t have plans of looking for something else,” you’re stuttering, not knowing how to answer. “I like working with different people and I like kids too. I..just think I would do well here.”   She smiles softly, a very calming presence in the midst of your panic. “This isn’t about salary and I’m not questioning your loyalty. We’ve spent...what...an hour together? And I can tell you’re a kindhearted person, Y/N. I’ve lived to see enough people come and go. Heck, even before this interview, I had someone come in and the first thing they asked were about vacation days.”   This woman knows nothing about you. At most, she might be your future employer, but sometimes you wonder how people can know you after spending mere moments together. Is your face really that easy to read? Are you just too open about yourself?   But none of these questions matter when what she says hits you the hardest—   “I think you should aim higher.”   The posting still haunts you.   Human Resource Manager Jung and Park   And maybe that’s the reason why you haven’t been doing well in any interviews, except for a select few. Perhaps this is why no one has given you a call back despite your efforts to display your dedication. The posting follows you wherever you go, on the back of your mind, imprinted into your memory. Maybe this is what you really wanted from the start — not stupid jobs at fast food restaurants or running in the streets handing out your résumé or jobs that aren’t of interest.   Human Resource Manager   It’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea.   But with one eye open, you go in for the kill.

In the heart of the metropolis are soaring towers, corporate offices and companies, business and enterprises that you have no reason to represent or work for. The firm is large and full of glass, from the giant windows to the glass of the conference room. But despite the modern design, it’s gray. The walls are painted in a gray shade, spaces left empty, cubicles tall and covering people’s faces. There are boxes of files and paperwork stacked up along the halls. It seems like a tense environment and you can hear people hard at work, typing on keys, flipping through papers, sighing every so often.   You wonder if you look awkward and out of place. For the fifth time, you tug on your pencil skirt and smooth out your old blazer, afraid you look weird or tacky. Your grip on the briefcase tightens and you don’t even know why you brought the darn thing when there’s only a squished ham sandwich and more printed résumés inside.   You’re sitting straight in your seat, staring at the receptionist and waiting. When she looks up from her computer, you divert your eyes to the firm’s name overtop her desk on the wall. Jung and Park.   You can do this.   All you have to do is keep it professional.   The door to the left conference room finally opens, someone exiting and holding a file of folders.   Your heart stops right in your chest. Your breath hitches. Something stirs inside of you.   A tall man with dark hair, in a fitted suit, is standing right in front of you. His sun-kissed skin is glowing, high cheekbones, long nose, everything adding to his handsomeness. His mere presence commands your attention. Even when he’s frowning, there’s something about him that makes him so alive.   Hoseok takes one mere glance at you before looking down at his papers. “Y/N?”   You flinch when he calls your name and you stand up, swallowing down the thick lump in your throat, feet together, adjusting your skirt one last time. You can do this. “Yes?”   “You’re here for the interview?” he asks without looking at you, taking a peek at his watch and phone. When you confirm, he nods and pockets his mobile device before gesturing towards the empty conference room. “Come in.”   You’re shaking. Even when you’re trying your hardest not to tremble, hiding your hands in your lap, it’s useless. You can’t stop staring at him either. No matter what you do, you can’t tear your gaze away from his face. It’s too difficult. You want to be professional. You want this job. You don’t want to screw this entire thing up. But the things you want are things you could never have.   “You have a degree in…” He searches the paper in front of him. “Human Resource Management Honours. Wow.”   You mumble, “it’s just a commerce degree…”   “No, it’s exactly what we’re looking for.” Hoseok, on the other hand, has no problems with keeping it professional. He doesn’t notice your staring eyes either. If anything, he only casted cold glances and seems to be disinterested in the whole ordeal. “Do you have any previous HR experiences?”   “Yes. I worked as an HR representative for about a year before the small company shut down.”   The lawyer hums and studies your résumé like your entire existence can be summed up with words printed on the lines. “And your previous job?”   “I was an executive dispatch member for cab services.” It’s a slight lie, a truth exaggerated. It doesn’t sound impressive to say you drove a taxi around in your late twenties and your early thirties.   “And you quit because?”   “Differences in professional goals.” More like you spent three hours cleaning up after some drunk girl’s vomit and had enough.   “How did you hear about this position?”   “I saw a posting online.”   “Right.” It seems like he’s going down a checklist, firing question after question at you. The man never once looks at your face. He treats you rather coldly and you feel like your chances are slim. It’s just a feeling inside that tells you won’t get the job — which is understandable. “Why do you think we should hire you?”   “I...I have a good educational background. I’ve worked in many different areas, so my work experience is very versatile. I’m really hardworking as well.” You mentally thank the older lady from a few days ago who gave you ideas on what to say. “I’ve worked with a lot of different kinds of people before and I enjoy it. I think I would be a valuable asset to your team.”   Yet, Hoseok appears unfazed at your answer, as if he’s heard similar things from other applicants. “What do you consider to be your weakness?”   “I…” You’re having a hard time, palms sweaty, mouth dry. “...I think I have a pattern of underestimating myself. I’m a bit dependent on others too, but I’ve been working to improve myself on that…”   The man across the conference table scribbles something down on his paper, like he doesn’t enjoy the fact you have trouble being independent. “Then what are your strengths?”   “I’m dedicated and hardworking. When I do things, I have to do them right or I won’t be satisfied.” You clear your throat, getting a grip on yourself, reeling from your whiplash of being in his presence. “I’m resilient. I can get back up when I’ve been knocked down. I can survive and make it past hard times…”   “That’s good.” There’s a ghost of a smile gracing his features, warming his cold expression, and you’re trapped in a trance. But it’s interrupted when he suddenly moves back, closing the file. You’re surprised at how it’s over so quickly. “Well alright. I’ll give you a call then. Thank you for coming by, Miss Y/N.”   He stands and you follow after a delayed second, but before he opens the door, you interrupt— “Um...I..”   “Oh sorry.” He turns. “Did you have a question for me?”   “Hoseok, I….I really want to work here.” Your fists are clenched tight, your head is downcasted and you’re sure you look like a desperate mess begging for this job, but you have to take the leap. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. “I understand if you won’t hire me, but will you at least take me into serious consideration?”   “I’m sorry?” There’s a pause. You look up at his confused expression and you frown, stumbling over your words. Hoseok finds the way you speak to him odd, as if you’re perfectly familiar with him. He interjects with his own question, “Do we know each other?”   “What?”   “I’m sorry. I got into a car accident about seven years ago. There are some things I can’t remember anymore.” He offers a small smile and you’re caught off guard. It came out of nowhere, so sudden, but he says it nonchalantly like it doesn’t affect him at all. Your frown deepens to the point where it hurts and you blink. You’ve been stunned to silence.   His brows are raised and he dips himself down, searching your face and he repeats himself in honest curiosity, “Did we possibly know each other?”   “Not really,” you answer. “We were acquaintances back in university, like twelve years ago. I thought you would remember me, that’s all.”   “I’m sorry.” His brows furrow. “I can’t seem to recall…”   “No, it’s alright.” You nod, returning his smile. “I’m sorry to have to make you talk about your accident.”   “No, I don’t mind.” Hoseok looks down at your application in his hand. Y/N. Your name brings no significance back into his mind, but he’ll make sure to remember from now on. “Well, if there isn’t anything else...”   “O-oh yeah, umm, okay.” You bow your head slightly as he opens the door. “Thank you for the interview.”   Hoseok lifts his arm with an open hand. You stare down at it for a second before clasping your palm with his, shaking his hand. The corner of his mouth lifts and he nods. “It’s not a problem.”   The both of you end up walking your separate ways. The man returns to his office with a stack of files in his arms. And you can’t help but turn around to stare at his broad backside becoming smaller in the distance. Well...either way, the two of you were strangers from the start. You’ve always been strangers to each other.   It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember.

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Chapter 21

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 1465

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Chapter Warnings: Angst and some anger induced sexual tension. lol.

A/N: I’m so excited for you guys to read this! I made such a big deal about it and I just hope it’s what you all expected or... not expect... i don’t know. I’m really proud of the way things turned out in this chapter so I hope you will be too! If you liked it, please reblog and leave some feedback, even if it’s just one word or an emoji, even a gif. Any feedback fuels this fire! Thank you for reading and hope you like the chapter!! xx

“Lisa…” Dean growled.

“Hi, Dean,” Lisa smiled, oblivious to the grimly sound in Dean’s voice, as well as the fact that the whole Winchester family, you included, knew all know about Ben… and his lack of blood connection with Dean.

It was easy to tell that Lisa wasn’t very fond to find you there with Dean. Her smile was forced and you could see the strain in her features as she tried to ignore your existence. Discretely rolling your eyes, you spotted the tick in Dean’s jaw. He was fighting back everything that wanted to scream and break everything in it’s path.

“Dean, stay calm,” you tried, taking a step in front of him so that you were between him and Lisa. As much as you hated her, you didn’t need Dean getting into trouble with so many witnesses around. Especially not in his hometown.

Lisa scowled just for a second before she was smiling wide and bright. “Y/N, you’re… back. That’s so great,” she grinned. “It was nice of Dean to invite you to spend Christmas with his family.” She was so clueless, trying to play nice in front of everyone. Oh how you wanted to expose her for the cheating slut she was, but that was Dean’s job.

“You—” Dean snarled, taking a step forwards, his chest pressing against your back.

“Dean… is everything okay?” Lisa asked, finally sensing that something wasn’t right.

“You, slut—” he growled, taking another step forwards, easily moving you along with him.

“Dean,” John intervened. “Not here. Too many eyes.”

John was right. This place was always pretty steady, a stream of people always going in and coming out, trying squeeze by you, Dean, and Lisa. You were sure in Dean’s right mind; he wouldn’t want random people all up in his personal matters. A restaurant, as popular as this, wasn’t the place for the epic conversation that was about to go down. At this moment, Dean was nothing but ticking time bomb, and Lisa was the person strapped to it. Every one else would have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, innocent bystanders caught in the cross fire.

“Parking lot, now.” Dean stared Lisa dead in the eyes as he said those words, pointing behind her. He didn’t even bother to give any sort of explanation before taking your hand and dragging you along with him, passing Lisa who stood there shocked and confused.

“Hey, look at me,” you touched Dean’s shoulder when he made it to his truck, beginning to pace. “I’m right here, alright. Try to stay calm. Don’t hulk out. Save that for the bedroom,” you joked, hoping it will ease him up a bit.

When he didn’t react, your heart sank a little in disappointment and embarrassment, but before you could apologize for such a wrong timing joke, Dean had you pinned against the truck, lips rough and passionate against yours. You were completely winded by the time he pulled away, not to mention, speechless.

“I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but you do know I love you, right?” he questioned, his eyes still holding the same fire as it did before, except it was the way he was looking at you, how his eyes trailed down to your lips, and how he licked them, that made you understand that after he has his little talk with Lisa, he was going to need to blow off some steam, and with your invitation, he was going to take full advantage. Just the thought made your entire body shiver.

Lisa stood in the restaurant entrance totally dumbfounded. She had no idea why you were here and why Dean was so pissed off at her. And now she was standing alone with the rest of the Winchester’s in front of her. She could feel the tension in the air, not knowing what to do with it. Jess was giving her the stink eye, while Sam looked at her with a judgmental glare. John’s expression remained unreadable, and Mary tried to show a little bit of sympathy, even though she was just as angry as the rest of them.

“Dean just wants to talk,” Mary informed the confused brunette.

Making her way to the parking lot, Lisa cleared her throat when she saw just how close Dean was standing to you. Your back was against his truck and Dean had you caged between his arms and body, eyes intensely and clearly undressing you.

“Dean, did you want to talk or am I interrupting something?” She bit.

A low growl left his lips and you quickly grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, right in front of Lisa, she gasped like she has just been disrespected.

“Excuse me, what the hell do you two think you’re doing?” She hissed, stepping forwards.

Dean instantly pulled himself away from you and before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Dean was chest to chest with Lisa, his eyes boring down into hers. Lisa stumbled back a little, but Dean was quick to grab her arms and pull her close.

“I could ask you the same question,” he grinded.

“Dean, let her go,” you demanded, standing beside the pair and attempting to pry his hands off of her. “Dean, let go,” you said more sternly, and to your surprise, he obeyed.

Lisa stared up at hard evergreen eyes. Her brows were furrowed like she was trying to read him. It was mind blowing that she still hadn’t figured it out. What else could Dean possibly be pissed at her about? Why else would he have called her a slut? It wasn’t rocket science!

“Who’s the father?” Dean barked.

“Dean—” you warned.

“What are you talking about?” Lisa asked once again.

“Don’t play stupid with me. I know. I know Ben’s not mine, so tell me. Who is the father?” Dean’s patience was low. You could see it; Lisa could see it. You’d have to be blind if you couldn’t tell, but then again, his voice wasn’t the most pleasant. He was livid.

“Dean… I—”

“Don’t lie to me. You’ve done enough lying. Now tell me the truth. Who. Is. The. Father?”

“Dean… it’s you. You’re Ben’s father!” She confessed.

“That’s bullshit!” He shouted. You noticed people were starting to stare, but they were civil enough to mind their own business and walk away. When their eyes met yours, you gave them an apologetic smile, but also a thankful one.

“Dean, I’m telling you the truth! Who else could it be?” Lisa snapped back.

“You tell me!” He retorted. This time Dean took a step forwards and you couldn’t stop him.

“Dean. Stop.” You told him, jumping in front of him and holding your hands out, pressing them against his chest, keeping him out of arms reach from Lisa.

“You’re the father, I swear! I promise!” Lisa continued, spewing nothing but lies.

“Lisa!” You whipped around, already fed up with her. “He knows. He knows that Ben isn’t his. He knows that you cheated on him. He knows everything except for what he’s asking you right now!” You got in her face. “Who did you fuck with behind his back?!” You spat.

You were seething. Staring her down. You could see the tremor in her eyes, however if you weren’t so close, you wouldn’t have noticed. She held your stare for a good few seconds before averting her eyes in an eye roll. Just when you thought she couldn’t push any more of your buttons, she somehow found another one.

“Like I said many times before, Dean—”

“Lisa cut the crap. I don’t know how long you plan to play this sick, twisted, game of yours, but it’s over. I know for a fact that Ben isn’t mine. Now tell me the truth. That’s all I want.” Surprisingly, Dean was a little calmer than he was earlier. When you looked over your shoulder, you noticed that John, Sam, Mary, and Jess were there. You didn’t even hear them approaching. “Lisa, please.”

“Dean, I’m telling the truth! I swear. You’re the f—”

SMACK!

Silence ensued everyone. The stinging in your hand being your only evidence of what you had just done. It all happened so fast.

Lisa looked up at you cupping her cheek in shock, like she couldn’t believe it herself. The two of you just stood there, your heart racing and chest heaving, while she just watched you. Both your eyes locked together.

“Y/N?” An unknown voice called, disbelief laced in the way the person said your name.

You flinched at the call of your name, looking past Lisa to see the last person you were expecting.

“What the hell?” Dean grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

Did you like it? Please reblog/share, and/or leave some feedback! I would really appreciate it! xx

Say Something Nice Here!

[doctorlaelia-ffxiv]

speechless.

Throughout my life, I have been told to be silent.

My father didn’t tolerate me from the day I started to form my own opinions. Maybe I should have spared myself the headaches, but I would hide when he had his other warmongering friends over for drinks. I would listen to the ideas that this man I was meant to trust with my own life spew about the subjugation of others, listen to him toasting to the genocide and slaughtering of a nation.

And I was not able to hold my tongue.

My mother took to crying whenever my father and I argued, and it was often. Despite the doors of his office being closed, our voices rose through the house, and even when he hurled books and glasses at my face, I found that I could not stop myself from drilling my points down until my throat hurt too much to keep shouting. I always wanted to go in with a level head, and initially, I always did, but no one provokes me so much as Remus tol Caelius. 

I showed him military strategies that I had studied that could bring both peace and prosperity to the nations he’d rather see razed, as well as our own. I tried to be calm, quiet, and bring my point across without raising my voice. I raised the level of my arguments. 

He didn’t take me seriously.

“You’re a child,” he’d spit, and he was right. In age, I most certainly was a child. But I was smart. And I knew that I was right. Even if I wasn’t planning to become a great military strategist, I knew, at least morally, that I was right. 

As I rose higher and higher in the world of medicine, the men around me continued to resent me. I was better seen and not heard. It was better for me to be quiet and work hard rather than point out if ever my male colleagues were wrong. They told me I would get further if I smiled and was more agreeable, if I stopped being such an “ice queen” and let the professors and doctors above me advance my place in the hospital for me in return for a small fee. 

I never slept with anyone for a position. Not once. I worked, with my own blood, sweat, and tears. I worked so hard and was so valuable that no one could deny me, as much as they wanted to. I did not smile for anyone I did not want to smile for, I did not let up on my less skilled peers and colleagues, I didn’t relent. 

They all hated it. Still... No one could deny me. No one could deny that no one in that hospital was as good as I was, considering my age and relative experience. I was on par with the surgeons, professors, and doctors that had studied for far longer than I had. 

No one likes to see a woman succeed and be better than the men around her. It especially stings when that woman is young, when is attractive, and when she can confidently say that she earned everything she had by her own merits. 

I would not be silenced. Not by anyone. None of them were ever given permission to make me feel lesser, no matter how they tried, no matter the comments they made or the stumbling blocks they put in front of me. 

And now, now, after all of that...

All they want is to hear me speak. To make me justify my actions. 

To watch me fail.

I sit in a makeshift courtroom within a warzone, still dressed for surgery. My back is straight as I stare ahead at a point on the cloth tent, and the voices around me are just background noise. I am recanting why I’ve been brought in for questioning to begin with, recalling each and every reason I had for the course of action that I took.

If I was not Laelia lux Caelius, this meeting would not have been called. 

They’d not have made anyone else explain themselves for this.

“Laelia lux Caelius.” I look up as I hear my name spoken.

A steel beam that had slanted as it fell in a building that had been blown up. It was through the chest of one of the Doman conscripts who had been assigned to the building project, just missing his heart, while it just barely propped up a mass of rubble that would, ultimately, kill the foreman beneath it if shifted even a single ilm. We were running on borrowed time... 

“Do you know why you’re here today?”

The lights are so bright on my face that I can barely see the council of men who are gathered to question me to begin with. My jaw tics. 

“I was asked to make a medical decision as regards the two parties who were caught in the collapse of the new medical facility, sir, after a steel beam trapped both of them in the building.” 

I lift my eyes to zero in on who has addressed me, who is in the center.

It was a room full of damn mal Up-Your-Asses and mal I-Love-Killing-Savages. 

“And you made the decision to save the life of a Doman conscript rather than the life of kir Drusus, a most valuable architect and engineer to this project.” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Explain yourself.”

Explain myself? Fuck you, you crusty old bastard.

“I’m sure any medicus in this room would be able to answer this question easily, sir,” I reply, my voice tight. 

Kir Drusus was my friend. He was my friend, who had known me since I was just a little girl. I held his bloodied hand and sobbed as I told him the decision that had to be made, and he smiled at me with his face covered in dust and blood, told me that this was the right call, that it was okay. He had squeezed my hand. They think I killed a Pureblooded Garlean because I wanted to, because of my reputation and political alignment. 

“I’m an old, old man, Laelia,” kir Drusus had managed to laugh. “And I have lived a good, long life. I trust you. I trust you, above anyone else in this Legion.” 

They don’t know a damn fucking thing about me. 

“I was given two choices, sir, because it was simply not viable to save both parties involved in the accident. It was my job to assess each party and to assess who had the higher likelihood of surviving after the beam was moved. And it was Hansuke oen Watanabe who had the better odds of survival.” 

I had seen a lot, but I hadn’t seen anything like Hansuke’s situation in the field before. He was still gasping for breath as blood gushed out from around the beam that had gone through his chest, missing his heart just barely. He was white as a sheet, but he was... younger. Stronger. And he was on the high ground, on the second floor rather than the ground floor, where kir Drusus was. It would be easier and safer to extract Hansuke. 

There was only five minutes to make the decision. I had never felt such deep panic or such grief. But the beam could move at any moment. We had to work quickly. I couldn’t afford to hesitate.

I had to do what I knew was right.

“And why is that we expended resources to save a conscript that could easily be replaced rather than do everything we could have to save a valuable Garlean life, Miss Caelius?”

“Lux,” I said, looking back up at again. The silence that filled the room was so stifling, so still, that you could have heard a pin drop. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Laelia lux Caelius. That is my title, and it is a title that I have earned. I was given a decision to make, as a woman that has earned her place that she’s in, and I made the choice that I made because I am good at what I do.”

I shift, leaning closer to the microphone. 

“Hansuke oen Watanabe is a man who has served as a conscripted individual for twenty years. He is a valuable soldier, and now that he’s gained citizenship, could prove to be a valuable strategist, as we have - several times - followed his guidance and his knowledge in the field and come out successful. Know thy enemy, sirs, and he knows our enemy.”

Our enemy. His people. Doma, a people who did nothing to anyone. But I have to say this. I have to say this to keep Hansuke safe. To keep me safe, too. 

“Cyrus kir Drusus was a man that is far older than Hansuke, with a body that was weaker and less able to withstand trauma. He was also on the lower floor of the collapsing structure, and as with all things, the odds are better for those on the high ground. Even attempting to move the rubble off of him could have been disastrous, as it would move the beam likely directly into Hansuke’s heart. Instead of losing one man today, I can confidently say that if I had made any other decision, we would have lost two.

“You will address me as Laelia lux Caelius, and I hope with utmost sincerity that, since I have been granted this title and this responsibility, that you will acknowledge that I take it seriously and respect my decisions, as a medical professional, moving forward from today. The casualties of today are far higher than they should have been, and with all due respect, that is because the integrity of the building was weak. An explosion of that caliber should not have brought it to its knees like that, even if it was just in the infancy of its construction.”

Still the silence persists. I hear a ruffling of papers after a moment, a few murmured words, and I close my eyes, steady myself. 

“Cyrus kir Drusus was a friend and a man that I admired greatly for his devotion to his work, his family, his friends, and to seeing this war end peacefully.” I should stop. I should stop now. “He believed in a Garlemald that is better than the one we have now, and so do I. Hansuke oen Watanabe and Cyrus kir Drusus were like father and son. He did not see a conscript from a foreign land lesser than the men of his own. He simply saw another man of honor, and of integrity, who he could drink with and laugh with. 

“I have patients to attend to, and after that, I will be taking a day to mourn for the people we lost in this terrible accident today. I trust there will be no further issues. My decision today was made with a sound mind, and I am happy to say that oen Watanabe will make a full recovery and be able to return to the field.”

“Lux Caelius--” one of the men began, and I rose to my feet.

“Yes. That is my title. Thank you for recalling it, sir. Is there anything else?”

“...No. You’ve made your stance on this issue very clear. We... commend... your quick thinking under such a stressful situation.”

“If your intention was to commend me, then you’d not have a spotlight shining on my face and would not have pulled me in here for questioning before I could wash the blood off of my hands. Excuse me.” 

I will not go quietly into that good night, you motherfuckers. You shouldn’t have asked me to speak. Was this what you were afraid of? 

Were you afraid of the words I would speak once you gave me permission?

[maraudergirls]

Smores ( Harry x Luna Carnival Au)

For @wizardingworldwaitforme from @hermione-who and @@beaubcxton We love you and surprise!

“Just bloody ask her mate!”

“I can't. You know that!”

“Why not? Stop being a wuss!”

“What if she says no, Ron?”

“What if she says yes?” The boy, Ron counters back, frustration seeping into his tone. Some would call it a privilege, attending to Harry Potter, but his best friend thought it was a right nuisance.

Especially, when the said boy was pining after a girl.

Harry Potter was many things. A fighter, the Gryffindors would call him after he’d ward off the dementors. The hufflepuffs would chime in with a “He’s selfless!” after he gave his life up once more. The Ravenclaws and the Slytherins wouldn’t say much, too immersed in their work but if pestered, they’d retort that he was a rather resilient fellow who should pick up a book once in a while.

If asked, the professors would smile fondly and say he was a smart student and then share caring sentiments regarding him. They’d follow the statement by saying that their parents were rather bright students as well. And like most people, they’d soon wander off in their blissful thoughts.

Harry Potter was many things.

But charmspeaker, he was not.

Perhaps, one might consider it bizarre that the boy could fight soul reapers, death eaters and even corpses but couldn’t even stomach the idea of asking a girl out.

Particularly when that girl was Luna Lovegood. Caring, kind of oblivious and wouldn’t hurt a fly, Luna. Goddess Number 1, Apple of his eye, light in his darkness and wackspurt to his nargle. He’d been pining after her for ages, perhaps ever since she brushed her hand against his when he had asked for a pencil.

Harry groans. He was pathetic.

A girl like Luna deserved to see the whole world on a date. Taste italian pizza and drink American Iced Tea. He doubted she would like that much, however. Luna seemed like the person who find contentment in standing still.

Weather (and his mother) forbade him from taking her to a beach.

“You’ll catch a cold, Har!” Lily had scolded him earlier that morning, her hands dusty with flour as she set a plate of cookies on the table, cookies she’d made for his father.

Harry had stuffed one in his mouth and proclaimed, “Its for a girl, Mum!”

“And she can say yes to other sensible and safe events or she’s not the right girl for you.”

Harry supposed there was some truth in her words but to his love riddled brain, it was the worst of betrayals. And he had sighed, mournfully and clambered up the stairs, plate hidden and a grinning mother at the end of it.

“Mate,” Ron sighs and sits next to the boy. “I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

Harry smiles abashed and runs a hand through his hair. “You think?.”

Barely managing to suppress a thankful sigh, Ron claps his friend on the shoulder. “I’m positive.”

When the other boy doesn’t respond, he quickly walks out the door, happy that his best-friend duty could be considered fulfilled.

“Mate!!”

The call sounds at lunch time and Ron looks up as he stuffs a leg of chicken in his mouth. It was perhaps the third time his eating had been interrupted that very day, Ron thought morosely. Truly a travesty.

“She said yes!”

The other boy gives a thumbs up and widens his eyes proportionally to add effect. “Conhuhasdu”

“Where should I take her?”

Not again. How was he supposed to know about girls? Harry should have been asking Hermione these questions. Or his own parents. James and Lily Potter were married. They obviously had some experience in the whole dating thing.

Swallowing” “Take her to a carnival, mate. Girls dig that.”

Harry bites his lip. “Yeah? You’d think she like that?”   

Ron hums for good measure. For a moment, Harry looks transfixed and Ron can hardly believe his luck but then: “Why though? Why not the beach?”

Oh for Merlin’s sake.

“Harry.” Ron said very rationally. The food that spewed from his mouth is a testimony of the level of nonchalance the boy exhibits. “If you want to go to a beach, go.”

“Mom’s not allowing me to go.”

“So?”

“So? So, I can't go. Girl or no girl, I can't worry Mom like that. Not after what she’s been through.”

For a brief second, Ron wonders if this is the same boy who flew a car with him and took out a whole unit of villains but then he nods. After what Lily had been through, indeed.

“Luna’s a pureblood, right?”

A sound of assent.  

“She’d love how weird carnivals are.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! And we’d go on all those rides and I could get- Wait, you’re a pureblood.”

“Bloody hell! Will you look at that? I am!”

“Oh sod off. How do you know about muggle fairs?”

“Hermione took me once.” Ron says shortly. “Fairs?”

And after all the help he had offered, Harry has the gall not to answer his question as he bounces off and shoves his coat on, knocking the lamp post while he’s at it. “Thanks, Ron. You’re the best.”

Only after Harry strides out of the room does Ron allow himself to bite into his cheese burger with a blissful moan.

“Car- nee-val” Harry teaches as they walk under the entrance arc. Dozens of kids run around with painted faces. Luna giggles as she notices one boy sporting the face of a dragon. The scent of fried food wafts through the air and the pair hear their stomachs grumbling mournfully.

The feeling of happiness was rich in the air and the laughter of the children near them who asked for balloons was contagious.

Tugging her along, Harry was content as they breezed past several booths, hardly noticing anything besides the presence next to him.

Luna gently touched his hand once to get his attention. “What’s that?”

Following the direction of her hand, he answers, “It’s sand art.”

“Its beautiful.” Luna murmurs in awe.

Indeed it was. The palette was a sight for sore eyes. Purple, green and blue sand occupied the space of several containers.

“Want to play?”

“What do you do?”

Harry scrunches up his nose trying to remember. “You choose a container, I think and place one funnel at the top. And then you’d uh, put the sand in the bottle till it’s filled to the brim. Its kinda cool if you’re into ah, designing.”

Luna inspects the booth for several seconds, “Maybe later.”

And so, they go on. Several times, Luna would stop and ask him a question and Harry would explain how crazy hats worked and they're not actually popping butterflies but rather butterfly like balloons.

At first, it was tiresome. Question thrown after question but then he’d looked at Luna and all his misery drowned away.

He had never seen her so excited. So full of childish glee.

Wisdom always shone like tears in those blue eyes and he’d never have the opportunity to see anything different but now, he found he rather loved the new look and with a bounce in his step, apprehended her.

McGonagall once asked him why circumstances revolved around him and he’d chirped I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me. It seemed like the statement still applied, even if he didn’t go to Hogwarts anymore.

For several people cast them weird looks and they scoffed about Luna’s attire.

He thought she looked gorgeous. A normally sized chunk of radish hung from her left earlobe and a small carrot dangled from the right. She was wearing a knee-length colorful dress with an enormous butterfly design on her back. Her shoes were multicolored but Harry failed to understand why people seemed to think it was their business.

When the third person to call her out that night laughed with his friends, Harry took a glance at Luna and was speechless to notice she still wore that airy and bright smile. Was she not affected at all by the taunts? This was probably the fourth time they teased her in his presence. And he hoped it’d be the last time.

As if answering his question, she shakes her head slightly when Harry steps forward, adamant to teach someone a lesson.

“Leave it be, Har.”

He protests. “They have no right-”

“And so they don't. They’re misguided. Hecates are to be blamed.”

Disgruntled, he listens.

A wide smile splits Luna’s face. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

And all thoughts of shoving a wand in someone’s ear turned to dust with that coy admission.

Harry had never noticed how loud carnivals could be, and how dim they got, so dim you could barely see when you accidently trod on someone's toe, but now he did.

Now he was conscious of everything, stealing what he hoped were secret glances at Luna every so often, hoping she was enjoying herself.

The bright smile she had on her face as she drank in the scene comforted him, but then he hastily reminded himself that Luna Lovegood was always smiling.

He loved that about her, he realised with a jolt.

That no matter how dark and crowded the carnival, or even the world, got, she still somehow managed to find the light, and just smile.

It’s infectious, her energy.

He really, really loved that about her.

They can hardly hear each other over the noise when Harry pulls Luna over to a wooden stall, standing on the outskirts of the crowd.

“Want anything?!”

Luna tilts her head to show she hasn’t understood.

Harry makes a point of pointing at the pink candy wound over sticks, shouting even louder.

“WOULD YOU LIKE SOME?”

Luna blinks, her smile slightly faltering as she follows his gesture. Her blue eyes flicker over the stall, taking in the impatient stall-owner, who is also pointing to the candy in a similar fashion, and she nods.

“THE CANDY LOOKS NICE, SHOULD WE GET SOME?”

The scene is so ridiculous that Harry can’t help but laugh as he proceeds to pick the largest treat on the stall.

Luna seems hesitant as she receives the gift from Harry’s hands, which worries him.

Had he mis-heard her, did she not want any? Had he already made a fool himself, not even an hour into his date?

She tentatively reached out, grasping a small piece between her fingers, and pulling. She let out a soft gasp as the candy tears clean off, and Harry realises something.

Of course, candyfloss was a muggle thing, Luna’d probably never seen the cloud-like sweet, and while incredibly wise, Luna was fascinated by littlest of things.

He leans in closer, just so she can hear him better, and desperately tries to ignore the warmth rushing to his ears.

“Try some.”

Luna, ever-trusting, lifts her gaze from the pink, and keeps her eyes locked on his, as she lifts the candy up, and deposits it in her mouth.

Harry watches as her eyes widen slightly, and her smile returns, brighter than ever. He stepped back then, the urge to pull her close being too strong.

“Muggle’s come up with the most amazing things.”

She breaths, and Harry was glad to see she went in for more. And more, and more.

At least now he knew what to get her for christmas.

When it’s finished, and believe me it didn’t take long, the pair seem to be drawn to the ride that towered above them all. The wheel spun, every cart occupied by some sort of couple. It seemed like the go-to place for letting people know you were on a date.

And maybe that’s why Harry suggested they ride the ferris wheel. He wanted make sure Luna knew how he felt.

And when she excitedly squeezed his hand, commenting on how he’d “read her mind” and explained something to do with “Nargles and their fear of heights”, he was glad he’d asked.

They were an odd couple, that was for sure.

What, with Luna’s special even for a wizard wardrobe, and Harry’s dug up old muggle clothes that he hardly wore, they didn’t exactly look like a couple you’d run into on the street.

Normally, maybe, they might have cared about the indiscreet stares they still received, as they paid for their tickets, and the scoff a woman sent their way when Luna smiled at her, but together? So high up that even the noise didn’t bother them anymore, and the stars winked at them from above, perfecting an already perfect day? All they noticed was each other.

The ride came to it’s usual standstill, Harry and Luna at the very top. It was mesmerizing for him, watching her shut her eyes and take in the cool breeze, fingers stroking the air as if she could feel something no-one else could.

To Harry, Luna was a whole world. She lived it, breathed it, floating between reality and just plain fantasy.

It was the best way to live.

“Look.”

She was pointing at something far in the distance, something Harry couldn’t even see from where he sat.

She giggled slightly as he struggled to find it, pulling him closer.

“There.”

This time her lips were right by his ear, and she whispered her next words.

“Aren’t they beautiful, the lights?”

And Harry saw. He had to agree, the city lights of Muggle london did glow rather brightly, and on any other day he’d have admired them for longer. But, at the word beautiful his eyes twitched back towards Luna, who’d been watching him.

“Yes,” He agreed, whispering for no apparent reason, “beautiful.”

Twelve times. Twelve more times they rode that ferris wheel. And each time they stopped high enough for Luna to spot something else to be fascinated by. By about ride five her hand was in his, Harry somehow also finding the courage to move close enough that their shoulders touched.

He was trying really hard not to sweat.

Her fingers were soft and slender, and he revelled in her touch. He loved the feel of her skin on his, and at sometime, he didn’t know when, maybe the sixth ride? His thumb was stroking her palm, the feeling regular, like he’d done it a million times.

When they spoke, their conversation flowing from each topic, Harry always wondered why he hadn’t seen this side to Luna before.

The incredibly thoughtful, grounded, funny Luna. That was just it. She was so, ridiculously funny that by ride seven he was sure he had tears in his eyes from all the laughter.

“You know, Harry, you surprised me.”

This kind of brought the laughing to a stop, just as ride 11 ended and 12 began.

“I did?” Harry cleared his throat, wondering what he’d done.

“Well...with everything you’ve been through. I’d have thought things like fairs and carnivals would be a breeze.”

“But I can feel your nervousness.”

And there it was, the marker screaming that the whole date had been a disaster. She could tell he was anxious.  He was obviously acting weird, putting her off. Was he sweating?

I mean, it was practically freezing, but he still felt the heat of sahara with her so close.

“That’s okay though. I’m nervous too.”

And she says this with such a comfortable air about her, that Harry can’t help but think she is saying this to make him feel better. But then, the thought of Luna lying at all was even more crazy.

It was funny, how things had changed in the space of 12 rotations. It was like a clock on fast-forward, each ride symbolising a stage in their relationship. Discomfort, tentativeness, touch, closeness, realisation and learning and perhaps even loving, it was way too far to tell Harry scolded himself when his thoughts strayed, all thrown into one.

In a way, Harry was grateful, for when he took Luna’s hand, and led her from the beginning of their “us”, it felt like he’d been holding her forever. He told himself it didn’t make sense, how right Luna felt, that he was surely dizzy from the perfectly slow ferris wheel, but he lacked the enthusiasm to make it believable.

It was quite a funny story, how Harry came to be holding a fish in his hands. Even he didn’t quite understand it.

I mean, it was normal, right? Buying goldfish at fairs, people did that, Harry was sure.

Only, the funny part was the stall-owner’s face when Luna had pointed past all the giant teddy-bears and the array of colourful balloons, after Harry had finally managed to land his arrow in the target and win, following many, many tries.

He’d asked her what she wanted, for he’d played for her, and wasn’t really surprised when she singled out the small orange sea creature, as it swam in reply.

“Are you sure?” the stall-owner seemed genuinely surprised, like he’d given up on the thought of selling that fish long ago, but, Harry thought with a smile as he handed his date her fish, (a thing he’d never really had to do before), the stall-owner hadn’t known Luna was coming.

And so he held the fish with pride, as Luna cooed through the bag, talking to the creature like an old friend.

“What shall we name you?”

Luna mulled it over, then straightened, lips tugging into a smile.

“Denis.”

Harry blinked, “Denis?”

Luna waved his question away, like her answer was obvious.

“All the cutest people are called Denis.”

He wondered idly if she was possibly referring to an old boyfriend, but this quickly diminished when she bent down again, peering at the fish with such a look a person would give their pet, “you’re so adorable, aren’t you little denis?”

He doesn’t really decide to tell her then, the words just kinda spill from his mouth. He lets them though, figures he needs to voice how much he likes Luna in some way other than blushing.

“Reminds me of the first time I knew that I, uh… you know.” He’s obviously not very good at the whole actually talking to your date thing yet.

“That you?” Luna regarded him with a kindly curious look, genuinely interested.

Fascinated by the littlest of things.

“Reminds me of the first time I knew i liked you.”

When he finished, her smile grew wider, how was that even possible, and she looked even prettier, again how?

Harry kept talking, hoping he could always make her smile like that.

“We were still in school back then..”

He didn’t get it, not at all.

She wasn’t angry.

Hanging up posters for her stolen possessions with such a carefree attitude, like it all didn’t matter. Like it was all just ‘good fun’.

Well, he certainly didn't find it funny.

Humor was not one emotion he’d feel. Rage and bitterness though? Definitely.

Why bully someone as lovely as Luna? He didn’t get it at all.

“I’m sorry about your godfather, Harry.”

The words froze him in his tracks, and he waited for the rush of pain, the choking feeling in his throat that usually arose whenever he thought of Sirius.

But it never came.

He looked down to see she had grasped his shaking hand, and her touch healed it. Blocked him, even if it was just for a moment, from the sea of prodigious grief.

Somehow, just Luna’s timid smile, managed to convince him that ‘everything was going to be okay.’

“Are you sure you don’t want help looking for your stuff?”

She pulled away, and he felt the inexplicable urge to stop her, but instead took a half-step back, clenching his fist in an attempt to shake off the feeling of her fingers touching his.

Merlin, what was she doing to him?

“That’s alright. Anyway, my mum always said, the things we lose always have a way of coming back to us in the end.”

Harry didn’t get Luna at all.

Maybe that’s what made her so special.

“Looking back, I probably should’ve asked you out right there and then.” The hand that wasn’t holding the fish went to the back of his neck, rubbing the blush away.

She nodded, seriously considering his statement. Then, her eyes slowly drifted over the carnival.

“D’you think the nice man has any flossing candy left?”

“Wanna sneak out?”

Luna considers and then, nods her head thoughtfully.

If asked, many people would say the greatest love story to exist was Aristotle and Dante. In a world which is blatantly homophobic, perhaps the pair bring a promise of a greater future. A hope.

I’d like to believe they fell in love with Ari’s fierce and protective love and Dante’s open and deep soul.

Among the many who believed, one lover sought to live.

They creep forward like spies. The atmosphere is amusing enough that they both have smiles tugging at their lips as they slide in the truck.

Harry assumes the role of driver and shifts the gear and pushes forward. In a matter of seconds, they pretend they are no longer strangers and zoom against the inky black darkness.

Luna laughs and her date thinks it's a beautiful sound. It was a mixture between a snort and a bell and he decided that it was a melody he’d listen to forever if he could.

Rolling past, the figure of trees blur into the night sky and soon, they’re leaving the city, leaving civilization and entering the void.

Taking a quick glimpse to see if Luna was okay with the proceedings, Harry is assured as she smiles fondly.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder proved true. Hair flying with the breeze and lips parted in happiness, Harry could think of no painting that could rival the image he was gazing at.

Switching his attention to the road, he leans back and they drive, crickets chirping as the car ground. 

Luna falls asleep. Blaming it on the crunelo, she says with rather too much enthusiasm, “They’re not very fond of civilization. Makes them all jittery. Did you see one? We’re so lucky to be in their presence.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow at her rambling though it goes unnoticed “We’re here.”

Let me paint a picture of their surroundings: From their vantage point in the truck, enormous mountains rose, their dark peaks nearly imperceptible. Fireflies hummed in the sky, their light offering a golden glow to the soothing darkness. Stars trailed the night sky and Luna knew that they were blinking down at her, silently promising that they saw.

The stars had always meant something special to Luna. Her mother often used to say, “The stars are our ancestors, love. Whenever you seek comfort, look upon the stars and wish and hope for the posterity.”

The world was etched in charcoal, the once vibrant colors of dawn now, a long forgotten memory. It was only them in this fantasy world where no plague of politics or racism existed. Time stood still as Harry led them to the back of the truck. Luna hadn’t noticed it before but there were pillows littering the space accompanied by a blanket. A lone basket stood at the base and Harry burrowed in it before he magicked a sandwich.

“I figured we wouldn’t be happy with the carnival food.” He grinned at the precipitous enlargement of Luna’s eyes. “I brought you s’mores for dessert because I remember hearing you say it was your favorite.”

Luna whispers, surprise, and awe seeping into her tone. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

And it’s ridiculous really, how happy the sentence, the fact made him. The events leading up to now were considered as a date but right now, he felt something more tangible in the air. Make or break, after all, and by the end of the night, he’d understood where he stood with the fairy next to him. For better or for worse.

“I could do this forever,” Luna exclaims softly, staring so intently at her food, mesmerized.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, these s’mores are pretty marvelous.”

She looks up, and lets out such a melodious sound Harry’s taken aback. She’s laughing.

He would never get used to it.

It was probably the trick of the light or lack thereof, but Harry was sure Luna’s eyes glowed in that moment. Brighter than bright, as her laughter died down and she lowered her s’more.

“You’ve got…”

Her words dwindle into nothing, and Harry was sure the thing that happened next was no trick. His heart constricting, he could feel it, and it felt like the right side of his face was melting. A very good, painless fire in the form of Luna’s fingers lay on his cheek.

Her finger trailed his lip, taking the chocolate with it.

“Chocolate on your face.”

She was whispering, why was she whispering?

Maybe it was because he was moving closer, and she was leaning in.

Or maybe it was because he’d dropped his s’more to cup her cheek, and was gazing into her eyes like he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Or maybe it was because she had closed the distance between them, and her lips were on his, and everything was black and blue and black again as colors and thoughts whizzed around Harry’s mind, settling on perfect.

He was still reeling when the kiss ended, and he watched as Luna blushed, pulling back to bite her lip.

If things were up in the air before, now they were definitely firmly on the ground, spelling it out simply.

They liked each other.

A lot.

“Do you want to know when I started liking you?”

Sighing in relief, he nods. He wanted to ask her ever since he murmured the story about how he fell for the pixie. His pixie, hopefully. Assuming she’d tell him her story in return, he was left rather disappointed as she changed the topic and bounced off for more cotton candy.

“I didn’t realize, Harry.” She murmurs, her gaze as soft as his own mother’s and he embarrassingly tries to hide the tears that now shine in his eyes. It constantly baffled him that people felt affection to his persona. “I think I always knew and whenever you’d smile at me while you ate or whenever you defended me, you’d feed the burrow of feeling that I wore on my sleeve.”

Harry smiled at her and offered her his hand. Nestling in his warmth, she goes on, “If I had to choose a memory-“

Luna was the last to leave class, concluding that she couldn’t get bullied if no one else was left to tease her about her earrings or her name.

Walking out of class with extreme foreboding and caution, it’s unsurprising when a loud and cruel laugh cuts the silence preceding the contents of her bag spilling out.

“Loonie LOVE-good!” They chanted. “Who’d love you?!”

Never fight back with swords, Luna, but rather with silence and wit.

And so, she had taken the wise words of her father to heart and never tried to include herself in their pointless arguing. Luna was in the midst of collecting of her things when footsteps sound near. Glancing up, her heart stills as it takes in a very livid Harry Potter.

The anger is not directed at her. Merlin, no. It never will be but rather at the students behind her who now shuffled under the might glare of the boy who lived.

“Luna? Are you okay?”

His voice is laced with compassion and drowned with sweetness. Quite contradictory as his face looked like it was made of stone. However, Luna noticed worry lines creasing its way on his forehead so she nods and smiles at him for good measure. “I’m fine, Harry. just dropped my things.”

A silent plead not to hurt them which reluctantly, Harry listens to for he drops his wand back and clenches his jaw, as the bullies slump with obvious relief.

“Do you know who she is?”

Luna winces. She probably should have asked him to drop the whole issue altogether. Harry’s bark was worse than his bite and she shuddered to wonder what rumors would fly around.

Probably, ‘Star-Crossed Lovers.’ They certainly did make a weird pair. Would, would make a weird pair.

Laying a hand on his arm, she says, “Harry, you don’t need to-“

“No, Luna. They’ve got to know that they’re cowards-“ He throws the pale boys a glare. “I doubt they’ve fought death eaters and survived to tell the tale but you have. And you’ve remained as kind as ever whereas-“

“Harry.” She says again and perhaps, it's the unexpected whisper that surprises him, for he breaks the scrutiny of annoyance and tears his eyes towards her. The boys seize the chance and hurry away. Sighing, Harry lets them after Luna prompts a quick, “it’s okay.”

 Harry sighs and helps her. “I don’t know why you let them be so rude.”

“You can’t change everyone.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Harry says grimly. Standing up, he moved rather awkwardly and shuffled his feet.

“Thank you for helping me. You’ve always been kind.”

The boy flushes and coughs. “S’alright. Just take care, yeah?”

“And then you ran away.”

Harry splutters. “I did not run. And why did you like me, then? I acted like a tosser.”

Luna yawned and snuggled closer to Harry. “I don’t know. I suppose you were the first person to care for me besides Ginny.”

The world didn't deserve Luna but perhaps, his feelings for her would offer some consolation.

“This is my favorite part of our date.”

Luna grins at him. “I can’t relate. I rather liked the cotton candy.”

Kissing her palm quickly, he drapes the blanket over them as the darkness winnows over them, cocooning them in some hazy dream. The stars fade as he blinks.

Harry supposed that Ron was wrong. You don’t need fireworks and adrenaline electrifying your marrow to feel happy.

Maybe you just needed that someone.

And maybe a fish too, he thought with a chuckle back to Denis, who sat comfortably in the backseat of his truck, a shiny new bowl as his home.

He wouldn’t trade the world for today but he concluded grande gestures weren’t always necessary. Not that today was grande but he had already planned the second date and since Sirius planned it, it was hella posh. Sometimes, you just need the quiet, the feeling of someone’s hand on yours. Them lending you their love and the trust that you wouldn’t abuse it.

The feeling of Luna nuzzling in the crook of his neck would never be forgotten. Decades later as he bounces his children on his knees, he will call their mother a flower.

Tranquility can bring happiness too, Harry concluded as he traced Luna’s soft features with his eyes.

Harry chuckles lightly.

Luna was right. The treats were indeed delicious.

[grandmascottlang]

I Hate My Sorry Excuse for a Soulmate (Loki X Reader Soulmate! AU)

Hey guys! This is my entry for @anaboo96 ‘s Writing Challenge! I had fun writing this! (I love Loki, I just wanted to write him in a different light!) I hope you enjoy this!

MASTERLIST

AU: Soulmate! AU where soulmate pairs have the same tattoo and won’t realize that their soulmates until they see the tattoo.

Prompt: “You don’t get to pick and choose. You’re stuck with me.”

Summary: [Name] and Loki absolutely despise each other, even when they find out that they’re soulmates and meant to be together.

Warnings: Cursing, angst (but it turns into fluff in the end), Loki being an awful person

Words: 1.7k+

“Steve! I hate that son of a bitch! He’s so disrespectful and treats me as though I can’t do anything! I mean, why would I be on the Avengers if I couldn’t handle myself?” [Name] ranted as she walked into the kitchen with Steve by her side. She threw her hands into the air in frustration. “Come on, Loki! He’s such a dick.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Language, [Name],” the Captain said, smirking at his best friend, knowing that she what she was about to comment.

“Steve, you don’t get to say anything about my language. You’re the one who seems innocent, but behind closed doors you are practically a sailor. And you kissed your mother with that mouth,” she muttered angrily. She took a deep breath as she sat down on one of the expensive bar stools that Tony owned. “I’m so pissed, Steve, and I don’t know what to do.” She rested her chin on top of her hands, resting on the bar.

“Maybe you guys just need to work through it. Maybe ask him about why he doesn’t treat you the same as anyone else on the team,” Steve suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“I guess I could try doing that…”

“Hey, Loki?” [Name] asked the god, being as direct as possible.

“What, mortal?” the god spat, looking up from his book, his eyes filled with anger. “What could someone like you possibly want?”

[Name]’s body was filled with rage. Her urge to punch Loki rose, but she took a deep breath, calming herself. She was the only person in the Tower that Loki still called a mortal. Sure, everyone had their nicknames, but hers was dehumanizing.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“Because you cannot do anything for yourself. You always need someone to help you. What use are you as a ‘superhero?’” he questioned, using air quotes when he said ‘superhero.’

“You’re a bitch, Loki.”

“I think the one that’s a female dog is really you, mortal.”

“[Name], Loki says such filthy things to you. He doesn’t deserve the option to talk to you,” Natasha said angrily, trying to cheer [Name] up.

The two were gossiping in [Name]’s room and Natasha accidentally brought up the raven-haired god. And [Name] had to voice her opinion about him.

“I’ve never met someone with such plain disrespect… I don’t want to hate him, but he’s making me hate him. I swear, the next time he says that shit, I’ll strangle the living—” she started, before she was cut off.

“Mortal, I do not think that you are capable of taking on a god, such as myself. Spider, how are you?” he asked Natasha casually, practically ignoring the expression on [Name]’s face. He just randomly walked in [Name]’s room, as he was looking for Natasha.

[Name] might as well have been breathing and spitting fire, her ears spewing steam, and she was about to start pulling her hair out. “What is wrong with you?”

“Absolutely nothing, mortal,” he smirked, “but there are many things wrong with you,” he suggested. “I am here to talk with the Spider.”

“Get out!” [Name] screamed, pointing towards her door. “I don’t care why you’re here! Get out of my room, dick!”

“Have you found out who they are yet, Lady [Name]?” Thor asked. All of the Avengers were talking about their tattoos and experiences with their soulmates. [Name] was the only one who hadn’t said a thing.

“No, I haven’t yet. I’m so busy on missions that I seem to forget that I have the same tattoo as one other person,” she thought aloud, answering Thor’s question as she lifted her sleeve to reveal her tattoo.

Most people’s tattoos were on top of their hearts, or at least close to them. The location of the tattoo symbolized how much each soulmate liked each other upon meeting. The furthest documented tattoo was on the side of the neck. [Name]’s was located right above her wrist.

Her tattoo was of a snake curling around a dagger, a green gem at the hilt of the blade. It was only about the size of the width of a phone. Thor’s breath hitched, he had only ever met one person with that tattoo.

“Lady [Name]?”

“Hmm?”

“I know who your soulmate is.”

“And Thor told me that you are my soulmate, mortal? I would think that someone worthier than you would be my lover,” Loki muttered, clearly angry about the situation.

“It’s not like I wanted to be your soulmate either! You’re such a dick to me!” she yelled in Loki’s face.

She rolled up her sleeve for the second time that day, showing him her soulmate tattoo. “Here’s mine. Now show me yours, dickface.”

His face instantly paled, all of the color drained from his face at such a confrontation. Her tattoo was in the exact same place as his. And it was the exact same tattoo down to the scales on the snake. “I do not understand. I thought that this was a joke from my brother,” he spat, pulling off the cuffs on his arms, revealing the tattoo. “I cannot believe a stupid mortal is to be my lover. I am to be a king!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care. You don’t get to pick and choose. You’re stuck with me,” she began, smirking at Loki’s reaction. “You’re not a king, you’re a failure. You tried to take over Earth, and look at where that got you. On the same team as the one that stopped you in the first place.”

“You little—” He began to use his magic to attack [Name], while [Name] pulled out her enchanted blades. She got into a strong fighting stance, urging him to come and attack first.

“Oh, I’m gonna have fun beating your ass, bitch.”

Loki and [Name] had been constantly fighting for the past month. They both spat out insults as if they were the only phrases known to man. The worst things were their physical fights.

The two soulmates left the Tower in a state of disarray any time they fought; they broke tables, windows, vases, anything expensive and valuable. Tony was not pleased at all.

The med wing was also losing materials at such a quick rate because of all the injuries they left on each other. If the team didn’t know about their tattoos, they would have never guessed the two could ever be compatible.

“Steve, why does the universe hate me? It gave me such a shitty soulmate. What did I do to deserve this?” [Name] questioned as she stared at the ceiling in her room.

Steve and her were just relaxing in her room for the day. They normally had one lazy day a week where they would just talk and watch movies.

“The universe doesn’t hate you, [Name],” he began to comfort her, “I think that it just wanted to give you,” he paused as he thought about what he wanted to say. “A bit of a challenge.” Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“But Loki’s so difficult! I swear anytime I see him, I want to murder him.”

“Maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way,” he started, coming up with a plan to get the two to be an actual couple.

Loki didn’t actually hate [Name], he found [Name] to be very different. When they first met, the first word that would come to his head when he thought about her was feisty. She wasn’t someone who would willingly submit to his silly pranks.

He just wanted to see how far he could push her before she broke. And she hadn’t broken yet, so it just became a habit. He was quite surprised when he found out that that were soulmates, but he could never ask for a better one. She was a perfect match for him, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

Loki was sitting in his normal chair in the spacious living room, reading East of Eden (which was his choice book to read while he was on Midgard). He looked up from his book, only slightly so that he would be the only one to notice his subtle eye flick, to see [Name] and Steve walk into the room.

“Loki?” [Name] asked softly, sounding almost weak to his ears.

“What do you want, mortal?” he voiced strongly, sounding a bit too aggressive. He grimaced slightly at his own tone.

“I just wanted to apologize for all of the things I’ve said to you.”

When she said that, Loki set his book down on the coffee table sitting in front of him. “Come again, love?”

He didn’t call me ‘mortal!’ What an improvement! she thought to herself as put a small smile on her face.

“I know that we’ve been fighting for, well—ever since we met, we’ve been fighting—and I just want us to move past that. At least start off as friends. We can worry about the soulmate part later, okay?”

He listened to every word she uttered from her mouth. [Name] was apologizing. And it really wasn’t her fault, was it? She seemed really nice to him when they met, but he just had to go and ruin it. He was rendered speechless by her sincere words.

Steve lightly patted [Name]’s shoulder, reassuring her that she could do this. He gave her a small smile before leaving the room. He wanted to give the two some space.

She sighed before beginning again. “I’m really sorry for all of the fights I’ve started. All of the rude things that I’ve ever said—” she was caught off-guard by a certain god.

Loki had cut her off. He ran up to her and began caressing her arms. “Love, you do not need to apologize for the words I’ve said to elicit a reaction from you. I am the one who should be apologizing.”

[Name] cautiously wrapped her arms around Loki’s waist. Loki didn’t protest and actually did the same to her. “It was all my fault, love. I’m so sorry.”

“You act so different when you’re being nice,” she giggled, looking up into his eyes.

“I never knew that you were so beautiful, love,” he smiled at her.

The two were actually starting to act like soulmates.

Neither of them knew who started their relationship, but they ended up in the bedroom later that night.

[daxfarroh]

Chapter 3

“Ah, Rey. Thank you for joining me.”

Rey nearly laughed at the hilarity of this greeting, issued by the most magnificent woman in the galaxy. She would join General Leia Organa anywhere—in the fiercest of battles and in imminent death. Surely, she would meet her in this cramped corner of the Falcon for lunch.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what I’ve been doing here in my little office, all shut in for the past week,” Leia said, gesturing at a rather intimidating mess of maps and data pads. She sat down heavily with a cup of milk tea and a plate of rehydrated bread Rey had brought her. “Please, sit. Have some tea. Or something stronger—I don’t mind. God knows you probably need it.”

Rey collected her own cup of steaming tea from the galley just a few feet away and took a seat as Leia studied her with a furrowed brow. She looked horribly tired.

“I’m afraid I’ve neglected you, Rey. I know you must feel very alone.”

It was true that the just the thought of being so close to Leia every waking hour was one of the few pleasures of being packed into this ship with a dozen other souls, and it was true that Rey had seen much less of her than she’d hoped. When she wasn’t alone in her “office,” pacing back and forth, making calls and hovering over a holomap, her time was consumed with grave questions from Poe and others, asking about rations and plans and whether or not they were doomed.

“But I promise you you’re not alone,” Leia said now, placing a soft hand over Rey’s. “You are of great importance to the cause, Rey, and to me. I will train you as best I can—as soon as there is time. I can help you read the texts and make sense of all that dribble drabble.”

She winked and Rey grinned. Those texts had been nothing but a massive headache thus far. “I would like that very much. But I know your work here is more important.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Leia responded, slumping a little in her seat to stare at her lap momentarily. “I’m afraid saving the Resistance has come down to food, water and a place to rest. We need to lick our wounds for a while. But once those needs are met, when we get a bit of time, we will rebuild. I’m sure of it.”

“I am, too,” Rey said. “Do you have a plan?”

“’Plan’ is a strong word.” Leia rose to her feet and turned on the holomap, summoning before them a hovering planet of swirling earthen colors. “I would call it a ‘proposal’—a proposal for charity which I’m going to make to an old friend. Have you ever been to Ryloth?”

Rey shook her head.

“Of course you haven’t, I’m sorry. My old brain,” Leia palmed her forehead in embarrassment. She then returned her attention to the spinning globe, moving her hand over it wistfully.

“Ryloth is a beautiful planet in the Outer Rim, inhabited by a fierce, freedom-loving race called the Twi’lek. On Ryloth, there are supporters of the Resistance, as many fear the First Order will soon cast its eye on them. And, on Ryloth, there is an abandoned shipyard from the Old Empire—one that still houses at least one viable battleship. But most importantly, my friend Yendor lives there. He’s retired and old, like me, but still respected in government. And he owes me a favor. … I believe he’s good for it, though I’ll admit it’s a longshot.”

“And if he can’t help us?” Rey asked.

“Well, then at least we’ll have a place to lay low for a few days and get our bearings. I don’t think B--,” she stopped herself, drawing a sharp breath. “I don’t think the First Order will come looking for us there. At least not for a while.”

A pang struck Rey as she wondered if she should share what she had learned last night. She was terrified to tell anyone about the Bond, but she wasn’t sure she could keep anything from Leia.  

“I could use some fresh air and a break from this tin can, couldn’t you?” Leia patted the rust-stained wall of the Falcon as if it were a living creature. “No offense,” she told the ship, her eyes wandering its dusty corners, seeing ghosts that Rey could not. “You know, I can feel him so clearly here. I keep catching myself outside the cockpit door, expecting to find him and Chewie inside, arguing. He sure did love flying this rusty bucket under the radar, where even I couldn’t find him. … Is it wrong to be jealous of a ship?”

Rey, all but speechless at this moment of intimacy, struggled to hold the stately woman’s raw gaze without betraying the chills that were overtaking her. “I miss him, too,” was all she could think to say.

“He is with Luke, in the Light.”

Leia sat down again, opposite Rey. For the first time, Rey saw the weight of age on her. It was the heaviest she’d ever seen, as if this woman was a thousand years old and had suffered the loss of a thousand loves. But, in truth, she had, Rey realized. Perhaps no one alive had witnessed more death. Now, here on this ship, who did she have? What planet did she call home? Leia Organa was, in fact, the loneliest person in the galaxy. And yet, still, she maintained this aura of purpose, of perpetual fortitude. What for? Rey wondered. How does she breathe, let alone lead us to yet another redemption?

“I’ll be joining them soon.”

The words wrenched Rey out of her own thoughts. “What? What do you mean?”

Leia sighed, taking time to choose her words and muster her token half smile that always padded the worst of news.

“Rey, after I was blasted out of the ship, I haven’t exactly been feeling my best.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. That was terrible. But you’re getting better. You’ve been getting stronger ever since, though I’m sure the food here isn’t doing you any favors,” Rey was spewing out sentences, delaying whatever was about to be said, because she knew she did not want to hear it. “But you’re doing better—”

“Rey,” Leia stopped her gently, taking her hand once more. “Perhaps twenty years ago I could have come out without a scratch, but let’s face it: I’m no spring chicken. The doctors told me, when I woke up, that my time is limited.”

“How limited?” Rey snatched her hand away, feeling cold. “How much time do you have left?”

Leia sighed again and, for once, appeared unsure, as if she was weighing all the consequences of telling her. After what felt like an eternity, she made her decision.

“Weeks. Maybe months, if I’m lucky.”

It was as if the Force was holding Rey in her seat, squeezing its ruthless fingers around her lungs and making her head spin. No, this wasn’t computing. This couldn’t be right. Not Leia. She was immortal.

“Rey?”

Suddenly, Rey’s senses flooded back to her all at once and the blood rushed to her legs, compelling her to leap to her feet and run from Leia without any explanation. When she returned, she was holding an ancient, leatherbound book the size of her own torso.

“I can’t really read it, but I’ve been studying some healing practices.” She opened the book to the marked page and pointed at the strange text. “If you help me, I can probably heal you.”

A smile lit up Leia’s face—the proudest, fondest smile Rey had ever received—but it didn’t reach the general’s sad eyes.

“I’m aware of the Jedi healing practices and, unfortunately, you can’t fix being old. Someday soon, you’ll be able to mend a bone with just a touch, but you can’t fix the damage I’ve endured. So many years of damage, Rey. So much living and suffering. It’s been one hell of a life, and I’m going to make sure I don’t waste a second of it.”

Leia smiled again as a tear slid down Rey’s cheek. There wasn’t a dry eye between them, but Leia had more to discuss.

“Enough of this depressing stuff. Let’s talk about the future.”

“The future?”

“Mhmm. You, my dear, are going to play a very important role in it. Are you ready?”  Rey nodded, though she was not ready for any kind of future without Leia.

“As you might have guessed, Poe is my heir apparent in this. I think we both know that it doesn’t really matter who I choose—it will be Poe just the same.”

Rey’s mouth formed a watery smirk at the thought of Poe, as she had recently come to know him. She liked to think of him as a friend. Their comradery had been immediate upon introduction. He liked calling her his “torture buddy,” since they had both survived an interrogation from Kylo Ren. Yet she also knew him to be a pilot who would fly through a sun if it got in his way. And he didn’t care much for taking orders.

“Poe has the potential to be a great leader,” Leia continued. “He takes leaps that others would consider suicide, which is how I’ve gotten this far. And he’s a bit insane. Which is why you must be his guiding light.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You are not only, well, you, Rey, but you are also the last Jedi. You represent all who came before you and carry all of them with you. When I am gone, my soul, too, will live on inside you, because mine is the soul of a Jedi. When Poe goes astray, you must bring him back, as I would. Do you think you can do that?”

Without hesitation, because it was Leia who was asking her, Rey replied, “Yes.”

“Good. Now, call me Master Leia.”

[esamastation]

Buncha Crap I tried to write today and failed

Firstly, second chapter of Sky Walkers which got, like... 300 words in before i got bored

Sky Walkers Ch. 2

The first time CC-2224 saw Kenobi was in space, and he was on the deck of one of the new Venator-class star destroyers. Over a kilometre in length, the Venator-class ships aren't exactly small, having good hundred meters over the Separatists' Dreadnoughts in length and even more in width. It's experience to be on board one of the things, never mind being on deck and seeing the full, arrow shaped length ahead of them.

Kenobi, when he appeared right next to them without as much as hyperspace blur, dwarfed the capital ship entirely. There is no way to put the sheer size of him into words – other than incomprehensibly vast maybe. No one has the precise measurements of a fully grown Jedi, of course – no one has any idea where the Jedi stop growing, if they ever do – but Kenobi is on the larger side of the Jedi; what the Jedi themselves refer to as Councillor.

Whether it's a size classification or an actual title, no one is entirely sure, but all the Councillor Jedi are beyond impressive – and Kenobi, even then, seemed to CC-2224 like the most awestriking thing he'd ever seen. He wasn't the only one on the deck struck speechless that day – wasn't the only one whose heart skipped a beat.

And that was before Kenobi spread out his wings and lit his dark shape in glow of that strange bioluminescence, with a bright blue horn at what CC-2224 eventually came to know as the front of the Jedi. The Lightsaber of a Jedi.

And then, they heard him.

Hello, there, the Jedi spoke with a warm male voice right into their heads. I am Kenobi, member of the Jedi High Council. I am here to assist you with the liberation of Ryloh.

It was the mind-blowing start of what would be a very short recapture of a Separatist occupied planet.

-

So that was a meh. Then I tried to write a thing with Obi-Wan and Cody where Cody too gets his chip removed and stuff changes and decided to start it with Rex telling Obi-Wan about the chips, but BECAUSE NETFLIX IS A POOP HEAD I havent actually seen season 6 if Clone Wars because it’s not available in finland and yes i’m salty, it didn’t turn out so good so anyway.

-

Chip thing

"Sir, do you have a moment?"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows arch and he looks up from the holoscreen, taking in the clone trooper at the doorway. It's Rex. That's a little odd, he hadn't even been aware that Rex was on board the Negotiator, which is rather curious. Usually he is promptly informed about such things. And not only is Rex aboard his ship un-announced, but he looks deathly serious.

"Of course, Rex, come right in," Obi-Wan says slowly and motions the clone trooper to enter. He closes the holoscreen, turning away from the table. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm – aware this is a little unusual, General," Rex says. "But this is important – and General Skywalker…" he trails off with a frown and shakes his head. "I'm not sure if you're aware about incident with one of the clones of 501st company?"

"Incident?" Obi-Wan asks and narrows his eyes a little. "You mean with General Tiplar?" he asks. "That was nearly a month ago."

Rex bows his head a little. "Relating to that incident," he admits quietly and takes something from his hip pouch, holding it out. "There was an investigation, and one of the clones of the 501st Batallion was involved. ARC trooper Fives, I don't know if you're aware of him, sir."

"The name rings a bell, yes," Obi-Wan admits and accepts what he's being handed to. A plastoid film, containing a small… organic looking little thing. "What am I looking at, Rex?"

"The clone trooper who shot General Tiplar ��� malfunctioned," Rex says taking as deep breath. "Because this thing in his head shorted out. It's a biochip, sir. All the clones have it."

Obi-Wan frowns, looking between the plastoid film and the clone captain. "I see," he says slowly, noncommittally.

"Fives learned about it during the investigation. There was another incident, during which it was said he tried to kill the High Chancellor," Rex says and doesn't quite look at him. "Fives was taken down eventually, it was branded as mutiny, but before he was shot and killed… he shared with some particulars with myself and General Skywalker. Including the existence of this chip inside all clones."

Obi-Wan says nothing for a moment, turning his attention to the chip. He'd never heard anything about it. "And what does the chip do?" he asks slowly.

"It overrides our brains, sir," Rex says and his eyelids flicker with some barely restrained emotion. "And makes us do whatever people of certain high rank order us. There are hundred and fifty specialised orders programmed into it. Tup – CT-5385 – was executing one of them when he shot General Tipler. Order 66 – all Jedi are branded as Traitors, and are to be… executed immediately."

Obi-Wan stops in the act of flipping the chip over. "That's…" he narrows his eyes. "Quite the thing, Rex."

Rex doesn't answer – staring at mid distance with carefully blank expression. He's made no accusations, Obi-Wan thinks, he's pointed no fingers. "Anakin knows about this too?"

Now Rex's eyes flicker shut just for a moment, and his expression hints at pain. "ARC-5555… implicated the High Chancellor in his tale, sir. Which, considering the previous incident where ARC-5555 was said to have held the High Chancellor hostage… General Skywalker dismissed ARC-5555's words, stating that he like CT-5385 was unwell and not talking sense."

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes, looking away. "Hmm," he answers. "Where did you get this?" he asks, looking at the chip.

"From my own head, sir," Rex says and finally meets his eyes. He turns his head a little and shows a small incision mark behind his ear, already mostly healed. "I – reprogrammed a medical droid to do it – and erased it's memory afterwards."

-

So that was also a bit meh, so after that I just got a word generator thing and had it spew out buncha words at me to use as prompts for snippet thing because I was getting bored and wrote this

-

1. stuff

Obi-Wan doesn't have much in way of possessions when he settles down on Tatooine.

A ship, which he quickly sells. The most of the money he got from selling it goes to purchasing a small plot of worthless land, it's only value being the little sandstone hut on it – and it's proximity to the Lars farmstead. Too rocky and too uneven for any sort of moisture farming and far too removed to be of interest to even the worst of local lowlifes, it's perfect for dissappearing. The rest of the money go to buying an eopie which, he suspects, he will end up selling soon as well.

Set of clothing, which thankfully fit Tatooine's local fashion well enough. Jedi aren't so commonly seen here that people would immediately recognize Jedi tunics – but the rough, simple material it's made of, now that is common. It's what the slaves wear. And like his, theirs is un-dyed as well. He fits right in, so as long as no one takes a closer look at the expect craftmanship of his utility belt and the high quality of his boots.

And then there are two lightsaber. One of which goes into a roughly hewn drawer in is new hut, and will stay there for the next several years if he has anything to say about it.

 2. satisfying

There is strange sort of gratification in getting his little, insignificant life in order. His little sandstone hut has a single moisture vaporator in bad need of maintenance, and air conditioning unit which lets out a puff of smoke when he turns it on for the first time. The cooling unit for food stuff, that has a abandoned nest of something long dead inside it.

It takes him weeks to get the place into liveable state and even after that, it will be constant struggle against the elements, to keep them from claiming what little comfort he's managed to pull together in the place. Tatooine's atmosphere and the specific quality of the twin sun's radiation makes the daytime exhausting to people and corrosive to machinery – to live here is to strike a delicate balance of constant maintenance.

It's a welcome distraction from the constant hurt of absence and betrayal. At this point he's not sure which one is the worse, they vie for top place in his nightmares daily. One day he will learn to live with them. For now, he will avoid them as much as he can and any time he can push them aside in order to grab a wrench instead…

He almost learns to enjoy the work, even if it will never, ever compare to the life and duties of a Jedi. The first glassful of water he gets from the moisture vaporator is one of the sweetest he'd ever had.

 3. tiny

His universe slowly coalescence into that small space. Into Tatooine's twin suns, into Tatooine's deserts and dynes and eventually, into the cramped interior of his hut. The Republic and it's grand spaces, it's open halls and it's vast hyperlanes fades into the distant past and Obi-Wan's existence becomes a small, inconsequential thing.

Maybe somewhere someone is looking for him… but he doubts it.

There's not much of him left to be found, these days.

 4. daughter

Bail sends him one communication, a year into his isolation. It has an actual message on it, which Obi-Wan listens to once before deleting it. The less he knows about the rebellion Bail is building… the better.

The holographic photograph of Leia Organa he keeps.

- - -

Except this turned out to be just “obi-wan just like being in tatooine?” and not the interesting timetravelly AU i was thinking and I got bored with that too

So yeah this is what a bad writing day for me looks like :|

[hpdrapery]

exception to the rule

fandom: harry potter ship: harry potter/severus snape word count: 967 also on ao3 and ffn

"I love you, and I'm not going to change my mind about that. I'll spend the rest of my life convincing you if I need to." Harry is always the exception to the rules governing Severus' life.

“I love you.” Harry sounded more exasperated than affectionate, and frankly, Severus couldn’t blame him. He knew perfectly well when he was being an arse, contrary to some people’s opinions, perhaps. He just acted that way anyway, preventing anyone from getting too close and seeing his myriad vulnerabilities. Harry was one of the very few people who had bothered fighting his way past those defenses, but even still, Severus couldn’t relinquish control entirely.

“Yet another example of poor decision-making on your part,” he said with a sneer, stepping into his study. Severus neglected to close the door behind him, a subtle way of giving Harry permission to continue the conversation if he wished.

“We’ve been together for three years. When are you going to start believing that I’m serious about my feelings? That I love all of you, unpleasant parts included?” Harry leaned against the door-frame, one hand brushing a few unruly locks of hair out of his face.

Face impassive, Severus shrugged, trying to avoid looking at those piercing green eyes. They were always filled with so much emotion that making eye contact with Harry made him feel almost compelled to spill more of his feelings than he’d ever intended. Just a look from his lover would be an adequate substitute for Veritaserum.

“I may never believe it,” he said honestly, gaze fixed on the chipped paint slightly to the left of Harry’s head. “Most people do not consider me a lovable man. You know that.”

“Since when have you cared about what other people think?” Harry admonished softly, stepping further into the room. “I love you, and I’m not going to change my mind about that. I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you if I need to.”

For just a moment, his stoic expression faltered, and he stepped a little closer as well. He hated feeling this way, like he wasn’t even worthy of Harry’s touch. He didn’t deserve to be with someone so truly good.

Even as he thought that, though, Harry closed the distance, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a tender kiss to his jawline. A slight shiver ran down Severus’ spine, and he leaned into him, ignoring his feelings of inadequacy for now. No reason to trouble Harry with his problems any more than he needed to.

“I love you too,” he breathed, allowing himself to clutch Harry tighter.

“Now, do you want to talk about what upset you earlier?” Harry asked after a few moments of silence, still obligingly snuggled into Severus’ chest.

“Not particularly.”

Harry had clearly been expecting that answer, because he just gave a hum of acknowledgment, pulling back from the embrace slightly to kiss him.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Let me know if you change your mind.” Harry had never been the best at giving advice and comforting people verbally anyway. His primary strategy was copying what Hermione would say if she were there, or spewing incredibly sappy platitudes. Severus found it disgusting. He also found it unbearably adorable.

Severus gave a curt nod. He knew there was no point in arguing that he wouldn’t change his mind. He might as well just accept the offer and hope that Harry would forget about it.

Slowly, he then disentangled himself from the younger man’s hold, starting to leave the study. If his brooding time would have to wait until later either way, they might as well go to the bedroom and get more comfortable, instead of standing in the middle of his office. He didn’t get more than a few steps into the hallway before Harry realized where he was going.

“Wait,” he blurted, lunging into the hall as well to block his path.

“Yes,” Severus replied slowly, arching an eyebrow. “Am I no longer allowed to enter our bedroom?”

“Er, well, it’s just...” It was painfully clear that Harry was mentally flailing, searching for any possible excuse to keep Severus from continuing to his destination. “It’s after four,” he finally settled on, the relief obvious on his face. “You need to take your potion before you forget.”

Severus couldn’t argue with that, actually. Ever since narrowly surviving Nagini’s attack years before, he’d needed to take daily potions to minimize the lingering side effects from his injuries. He nodded, casting another suspicious look towards Harry before turning away to fetch the potion. Judging by the sound of the hurried footsteps behind him, the other had instantly headed for the bedroom himself. Very suspicious.

He quickly downed his potion, grimacing at the bitter taste, and then followed Harry, already preparing himself from an argument. It was clear that the former Gryffindor was hiding something from him. What exactly that was, Severus didn’t know, but he intended to find out.

“What is going on?” He crossed his arms, giving Harry his best stern professor look. It hadn’t worked on him in years, but it was worth a shot.

“Something I hope you’ll like,” Harry replied softly, flashing that crooked grin that never failed to make Severus melt. His heart clenched in his chest, and he offered the barest hint of a smile of his own.

“Get on with it, then. Tell me.”

Smile growing even more at that, Harry withdrew a small box from his pocket, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to drop to one knee.

“Severus...will you marry me?”

Not many people managed to make Severus speechless, but, once again, Harry was one of the exceptions. He nodded jerkily, finding himself unable to do anything more than that for a long few seconds. It all felt too good to be true.

“I...yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Like I said,” Harry murmured. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

[thran-duils]

He’s Yours (APA P.4)

TITLE: He’s Yours (APA Part 4) PAIRING: Reader/AU!Castiel SUMMARY: Your parents are having their 30th anniversary and you are visiting your hometown after years of being gone. After living in the city for so long, coming back to your small town is overwhelming and also brings about a lot of baggage. Including your intense high school romance with Castiel. WORDS: 2,640 Warnings: Language, Angst AUTHOR’S NOTE: Italics are the past.

Part 3 || Part 5 || MASTERPOST  || Fanfic masterpost

“Do you ever get lonely?” Castiel asked as picked up the next shot. The two of you had taken a break since the last one, continuing to catch up. This question caught you off guard a little bit, it going deeper than his previous ones.

Brushing it off though, you responded with a light laugh, “It’s a city, Cas.”

He seemed unfazed by your nonchalant response. “Yeah, but there being so many people, you could get easily lost. Just because there’s more people doesn’t mean it’s more social.”

Castiel was always receptive to this type of thing. He could sense when someone who was in a room full of people felt alone and he did his best to provide them company. He didn’t like people feeling left out and he knew how easily it could happen. He didn’t like people being uncomfortable and did his best to be inclusive.

“Such wisdom,” you teased.

Holding up his glass, he invited you for the second round. You picked up your glass, tapping his before tipping back.

As your glass hit the counter again, Castiel stated, “Just an observation.” You nodded in acknowledgement. Something in his tone changed when he asked, “But, really… are you alright?”

He still cared.

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face. You saw nothing but genuine concern and intrigue. It was all too clear that you moving away did nothing to erase his feelings for you and it had been the same with you. You still felt so deeply for him.

Forcing yourself to react, you nodded, “For the most part. Of course it’s hard to meet people and my circle is small compared to the entire city. But, I’ve found a couple people I’m close to.”

There was a moment’s look of deflation on Castiel’s face and you knew damn well that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that you were unhappy and that you were coming home. But he covered it quickly, only a second slip up.

Smiling, he said, “Good. Last thing I would want is for you to be miserable.”

“Far from it. Slightly disappointed, sure as hell am there. But not miserable,” you replied, trying to give him some satisfaction. Things weren’t perfect and you weren’t going to lie about it.

His eyes ran over you slowly and you kept staring at him. When he met your eyes again, a spark went through you again, just like when you saw him for the first time. It was like the rest of the world melted away. It was just the two of you, rekindling something that you now felt should have never been put out. It might have been the alcohol but lately, in sobriety, you had been thinking about Castiel more and more, wanting what the two of you had had. You were torn between being away from this town which was a positive for you but being away from Castiel was a negative. You didn’t know how to reconcile the difference.

Castiel interrupted your thoughts, proposing, “Wanna grab another shot and then take them back to the tables?”

“You drove here!”

“I can walk home. You know where I live.”

That you did.

Nodding, you laughed, “Fine, fine. If you insist.”

His smile could warm up the coldest of winters.

<> <> <>

Castiel put the car in park and turned off the truck. You were hopping with giddiness as you threw the door open and hopped out of the truck, slamming it closed behind you. You jogged to the back of the truck and hopped up into the bed of the truck.

Tearing off the tarp, you revealed the large kite and breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the string had stayed put and not tangled.

Castiel was leaning against the side of the truck, peering into the bed. He cracked a small smirk seeing it was intact. “Need help getting it out—“ he started to say but was cut off when you thrust a side of the kite into his hands.

Grabbing the spool, you instructed, “Be careful.”

“Of course,” Castiel said as you maneuvered with him as he lifted the kite gently out of the truck and you climbed out again, holding onto the spool.

Castiel held into the bridle until you were ready. He let it go slowly but the wind took it immediately and your face broke out into a wide smile seeing it go up with such ease. You pulled on the line at the perfect second, keeping it steady.

He was behind you immediately, adjusting his baseball cap to look up at it properly. “Good job, nightingale.”

Smiling over your shoulder at him, you saw his shining eyes watching you, pleased. You loved when he called you that. It made you blush the first time he complimented your singing voice when he had overheard you accidentally when you were gardening at home and it still made you blush now.

Turning your eyes back to the kite, you kept it steady against the wind.

Castiel’s arms were around your shoulders suddenly, and he grabbed onto the spool gently to not disrupt the melody you’d set to keep the kite flying.

He intoned in a soft voice, “Sing sweet, nightingale. Sing sweet, nightingale, high.”

You laughed, hearing him go off key with the last word, imitating Drizella. After he had called you nightingale for the first time, you’d pointed out there was that song in Cinderella and he had never let it go. You halfheartedly regretted bringing it up but also loved his fascination with your voice.

Switching gears, keeping with his Disney theme, you began singing softly, “Let’s go fly a kite, up to the highest height. Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring. Up through the atmosphere, up where the air is clear. Oh, let’s go fly a kite.”

Castiel was chuckling, nuzzling his nose against your ear. You turned your head slightly and he moved forward to give you a kiss. “Always sing for me, nightingale.”

“I promise,” you vowed, giving him another quick kiss before turning your attention back to the kite.

You held the kite steady, happy to feel his arms wrapped around yours, holding the kite with you. Just the two of you in this wide, open field, holding onto each other. You hoped to never forget this moment of serenity.

But a part of you felt yourself in the kite. Wanting to escape in the wind but being tethered down. And it happened to be you and Castiel keeping it from breaking away.

<> <> <>

Castiel had left you at the table to go to the bathroom and Amanda had gone back to the bar to get herself a drink. You were stuck with a couple of guys from high school, plus two girls you didn’t know that well, and Rachel.

Rachel honed in immediately. “So, what’s it like in the city?”

You replied, “Busy. Traffic. High rent. But excitement.”

Scoffing slightly, Rachel stated, “Sounds like the only thing I would like is the excitement you’re talking about. No offense.”

Through a fake smile, you said, “None taken.”

“So, do you have spending money? I heard the wages aren’t that great compared to rent there.” You were getting annoyed with her questions even if she hadn’t been speaking to you that long. It was more her than the questions to be honest. You forced yourself to not look around for either Amanda or Castiel.

Twirling your empty shot glass around a bit on the table, you and Castiel had not waited long to take the third one, you contemplated for a moment, gathering your response before spewing it out. “I have spending money. I make more than what my bills are. And I go out and do things with friends. Not that much different than here except there’s more to do because obviously there’s more activities and places to go.”

“You would be paying less rent here,” Rachel pointed out. “And could be getting a similar wage in your line of work which would mean more spending money.”

Without missing a beat, you responded, “But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

The curling smile on her face made you feel apprehension immediately. “Thought Castiel meant more to you than that. Maybe you are that selfish.”

You’d fallen into a trap she had meant for you to fall into and you felt a sinking in your gut. Somehow you found yourself speechless against this. And you wanted to claw the self-satisfied look off Rachel’s face. The other people at the table were either watching with intensity or pretending the conversation wasn’t happening at all. You hated either reaction. All the memories of hurting Castiel when you told him you were leaving came rushing back to you.

<> <> <>

“I’m moving. I’ve saved up money.”

Castiel’s pulled away from you slightly, a desolate expression on his face. You couldn’t stand knowing that you were about to crush his hopes of the two of you marrying. You didn’t want to hurt him but you knew it was inevitable. His voice was confused, “What do you mean?”

Averting your eyes, you cleared your throat. “Cas… I need to… go.”

He repeated more firmly, “What does that mean?”

“It means I am moving away. I just… I can’t stay here. I feel… suffocated.”

This looked to strike him to his core, his expression distressed. “What about me?”

You felt a need to defend yourself, that he had known that this was coming. “Cas, I told you I was saving up money.”

“Yeah, I know,” Castiel responded, sounding upset. “But I didn’t think you were honestly serious.”

You grabbed his hand and his eyes flicked down at the movement and touch. But he did not return your grasp. “Cas, you are honestly the only good thing about this place anymore. And I would love it if you would go with me. I think it would be good for us. To get away from here and find someplace new. There’s nothing here.”

“Everything is here,” Castiel retorted, still not holding onto your hands.

Sighing, you shook your head, “It’s not enough.” Castiel said nothing and you felt emotions welling up. You whispered, “You won’t go with me?”

“No. I won’t.” This cut you deep. “And you shouldn’t go either. You’re talking crazy. What is out there that you can’t have here? It’s nice here. It’s safe here. All our memories are here. Why would you want to leave?”

“I want more.”

This looked like it cut Castiel deeper than anything had cut you. All you wanted to do was to hold him close and apologize for even suggesting that you wanted to leave. Stating that everything here was enough and you would do anything to stay with him.

But then you thought of the kite. And how it was trapped, tethered to somewhere it desperately wanted to stay away from. You couldn’t get the words out then, no matter how much you wanted to comfort him. He was your world and all you wanted was for him to go with you. But if he didn’t, you would have to make a hard decision.

“I just thought that we were enough for each other.”

“Cas –” you tried but he stood up abruptly.

He stated firmly, “Don’t.” Your heart ached. Tears were brimming his eyes as he stared  you down. He averted his gaze before saying, “You’ve said enough. We’re done. I won’t leave and you want to go. I guess I should have taken you seriously when you told me. You were persistent about it.”

Trying again, you stated, “Castiel, please.”

“No. Just do this the way it should be done. This…. This is it.”

“What? No! This isn’t it! I –”

“You’re trying to make this easy. Well, it’s not going to be easy, Y/N. This isn’t going to pan out smoothly like you hoped. You can’t just come up here and think that I’m going to be okay with telling me you are moving away from here. You know I want to stay here. You know I want to build a life here. With you! And you just want to throw it all away to find something? And you don’t even know what you are looking for!”

Choking back tears, you tried to sound firm but it fell flat, “I know what I want –”

“No, you don’t.” You opened your mouth again to protest but Castiel shut you down. “No, I don’t want to hear it right now. Just… I need to go.”

“Cas,” you said weakly.

But he didn’t listen. He shook his head, tears falling freely before he turned, storming out of the room, leaving you alone.

<> <> <>

Suddenly, the seat sank next to you and you smelled Castiel’s cologne again.

“There’s karaoke planned to be going on later, nightingale. You should do it,” Castiel told you. Your heart clenched hearing the nickname and you looked directly into his eyes, trying to focus. The shots had hit you quickly but even through your state, you could see his eyes were swimming with imbibement as well.

Castiel realized his mistake quickly, his face falling. He opened his mouth, “Y/N… I –”

He didn’t get any more out before you pushed yourself off the seat, mumbling a lame, garbled excuse about going to the bathroom. You needed air. This had been a mistake.

You stumbled through the crowd finding yourself at the bathroom. You collapsed against the sink, leaning on it heavily, breathing rapidly. You needed to calm the fuck down. Don’t lose control of yourself again like you just did. Rachel had wanted to get under your skin and it had worked. You wouldn’t let her win.

There were a good five minutes you spent in the bathroom before you gathered yourself enough to coerce yourself to go back out into the bar.

Castiel was waiting outside the bathroom for you and you felt the resolve to keep yourself together fall apart immediately at the concern in his eyes.

He pushed himself off the wall quickly, rushing to you, his eyes swimming with apology, “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You came at him quickly and he recoiled, looking frightened for a moment. Frightened almost through the whole process of you grabbing his collar and yanking him towards you, pulling him down, smashing your lips up against his. He fell into the kiss quickly, your fingers curling into his collar still, trying to hold him closer to you, making up for lost time.

Castiel let you shove him back against the wall. His tongue slid past yours and you let out a satisfied sigh against him.

Your nose brushed his as you pulled away slightly and you breathed, “We need to leave.”

There was no protest in Castiel as he nodded, still in a daze, not knowing really how to react. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

That’s all you needed. Your hand was in his, holding tight and you began leading him away from the bathroom and past the people in the hall, towards the main room. Amanda would understand, you knew she would. You knew she had planned on something like this happening the moment you agreed to go to the bar. You would have to thank her later. There was too much between you and Castiel that needed to be settled. And the quickest way to get to the talking points was through physicality.

You caught Rachel’s eyes and held back a smirk. Instead, you pretended your eyes hadn’t landed on her, keeping your expression stoic, before meeting Castiel’s eyes. You allowed yourself then to smile and knew that that would cut deeper. As if she didn’t matter.

Castiel was yours.

~~~

CASTIEL TAGS: @prince-halfblood, @splendidcas, @klaineaholic, @letsthedogpackandthecats, @alexastacio, @winchesterforever12 @seirensou @tacos-and-trenchcoats @the-amaranthine @greenappleeyes @waywardmoeyy @stori-teller @xxslytherinprincessxx @morbid-apricots @xxmizzlexx @cas-honeybee @musicalraven07 @findingfitnessforme  

[artificialqueens]

The Lost Princess {Biadore} Chapter 3 -C*NT

A/N: Alright we finally have some Biadore interaction like I had promised in the last chapter. 😄 Thoughts, inner monologue, words I thought needed additional emphasis, and a song are all italicisized (i hope i spelled that right lol whoops). Like i said before, cis AU loosely based off of the disney movie Tangled. TW for mention of blood in the begining bit here, and alcohol consumption (!!!!) Enjoy!

“Oh god, please don’t wake up yet.” Adore murmured, wiping off all of the blood from the mysterious mans skin. His arms had gotten badly scraped against the brick wall of the tower when he fell, which lead to a ton of sticky blood all over her hands as she disinfected his wounds.

Adore had managed to drag him up the stairs, into the living room and even sat him into a chair all by herself. At first he kept slumping over, so she had found nearby rope and was about to tie him to the chair- until she found a satchel hanging from his shoulder.

Removing the bag gently from his shoulder, she noticed that it was very heavy. Curiously, she opened it up revealing a perfectly intact tiara. It had 3 pear shaped diamonds and a bunch of smaller gems encrusted into it. Rubies and smaller diamonds gleamed in the light as she stared at it fixated. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen. How it didn’t break with his fall was beyond her, but she realized this could be her leverage. This could be her way out of the tower and to wherever the floating lights were coming from.

She concealed the crown in the satchel, and hid it under a loose floor board as she wondered if this man was going to attack her once he woke up. She needed something to defend herself in case he became as wild as her mother had described to her in the past.

An iron frying pan that was hanging against the wall caught her eye. That would have to do, she thought. She grabbed it and then looked over at the unconscious man slumped over in her chair.

He didn’t look so good, and was still bleeding through his clothes. Adore pressed a finger to her lips as she thought about what to do next.

He was handsome, he almost looked like how a character in a book she had read would look in real life.

He had dark hair the color of ebony that complimented his olive skin, hollow cheeks and thick eyebrows. He was slender, but not too muscular and was wearing long tan pants and a black long sleeved top with a tan vest over it to match.

Was he really a monster?

Inching closer, Adore grabbed his cheek softly and lifted up his upper lip. She jumped as he twitched instinctively, but raised an eyebrow in confusion at his teeth.

His teeth aren’t sharp and pointy,Adore thought puzzled. Why would her mother lie to her about that?

He shifted in his seat, groaning out in pain. Adore frowned, suddenly not wanting to see him suffer anymore. She pushed the hair out of his eyes and revealed smooth skin and very long eyelashes.

Adore stared. And stared. She stared until she couldn’t look at him anymore. She had always been under the impression that men were the personification of the monster underneath your bed, that they were frightening and ugly.

There was absolutely nothing ugly about him. At least aesthetically.

Realizing he resembled her mother after a long trip away from home with all of his cuts and bruises, she got an idea.

Wrapping her long hair around him, she grabbed a brush from a nearby side table and began to brush her hair. She hummed her mom’s favorite spell that she would sing to her twice a day.

Flower gleam and glow Let your power shine Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine

Her hair began to glow around him, enveloping him in a bright golden light. He sat there seemingly at peace as her hair made all of his cuts and bruises disappear. Once the light faded, she unwrapped her hair from him and stepped back.

Now she waited.

————————

Pain.

White hot pain.

That was all Roy could feel as he began to wake up. Groaning, he tried to reach his arms above his head to stretch. When they wouldn’t move, he opened his eyes and realized what was going on.

There was rope. Lots of it, wrapped tightly around his wrists which were pinned behind his back. That explains the burning, he thought grimly. He also realized he was sitting on a chair.

He remembered then, that he had fallen from the tower. How was he not in more pain? How did he not break any bones?

“Where the hell am i?” He asked himself.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Roy whipped his head around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. He was about 95% sure it belonged to a woman.

“Look, I needed a place to crash and I saw that this place looked creepy and abandoned. I didn’t think anyone lived here.” Roy started.

“Didn’t you see that the window was open?”

Roy’s face fell in annoyance. She was sassy, whoever she was.

“Yeah, I just thought that it had been abandoned for a short amount of time.” Roy shrugged. “By the way, why don’t I feel like I just fell from halfway up a tall tower?”

Adore wasn’t about to tell a complete stranger about her magic hair. That would just make her more vulnerable to his attack, and he would most likely just cut her hair off making her magic disappear forever.

“You just had a couple of scrapes. I had magic ointment from a witch that I rubbed on you.” Adore lied.

Well as long as he didn’t feel any pain later, he really didn’t care how hurt he was before she healed him with the ointment.

“Wow, thanks.”

He still doesn’t seem like a monster though, Adore thought. She would’ve thought by now he would’ve at least tried to escape. But if men really were as deceiving as mother made them out to be, it wouldn’t take long to figure out whether or not he was a monster.

“Who are you?” Adore asked, emerging from behind one of the bookcases; her long blonde hair flowing softly behind her. Her light purple dress was hemmed just below the knee,and flowed around her as she walked.

For the first time in a very long time, Roy was speechless.

She was a woman alright,Roy thought. Her hair seemed to go on and on for miles, looking more like a golden river then blonde hair.Had she ever heard of scissors? He thought sarcastically. Her eyes were the color of fresh cut grass, mesmerizing in the afternoon light. Dark brown eyebrows framed her angular face, and her slim body was fitted with quite an expensive looking silk dress. Silk and satin were definitely present in the design, both temperamental fabrics to work with. It looked stunning on her. The girl couldn’t be more than 18 years old, if that.

Roy has always had a thing for blondes, and she was by far the most attractive blonde he had seen in a very long time. He raised an eyebrow at her as his eyes drifted to her arms.

“Are you holding a frying pan?” Roy asked bewildered.

The girl huffed in frustration and crossed her arms. She had tried to intimidate him, but it obviously was not working.

“Yes! Just in case you get any ideas. Now who are you?” She pointed the frying pan at him threateningly, glaring down at him.

If he wasn’t seriously afraid of her using it on his face, he would’ve been in tears laughing. Instead, he gulped, biting his tongue to stop the laughter from escaping, and continued. She was cute.

“My name is Roy. What about you blondie? Does a sexy thing like you have a name?” He smirked showing off his pearly whites. He got one good thing from his parents: his perfect teeth.

Sexy? Adore thought bewildered as she looked at Roy’s perfect teeth. They were blindingly white, she realized. He also had beautiful brown eyes, that were warm and filled with..compassion? She couldn’t read the emotion coming out of them.

But she was confused about what he had said: what on earth was sexy about her?

“I’m Adore.” She said hesitantly, gripping the pan tighter. She didn’t trust him, charm was one of the weapons her mom had warned her about with men.

“Adore. That’s an interesting name. You must have been named after the lost princess too.” Roy muttered. How original, he thought.

“An interesting name?! So you don’t like it?” Adore huffed, completely bypassing the lost princess statement.

“I never said that bitch. It’s just… so many girls were named after the princess after she went missing. That’s all.”

Ignoring the curse word, she looked curiously at him. “Tell me about this “lost princess.” If there really is such a thing.” Adore said, using air quotes. She had her guard up now, ready for whatever lie he was about to spew.

“Okay, you really must not be from around here if you don’t know about the lost princess.” Roy rolled his eyes.“Almost 18 years ago now, someone kidnapped the newborn princess from the king and queen in Corona; and she was never found. The kingdom had been so excited about her birth that they were devastated when she was never found. Soon almost all of the baby girls had Adore as their middle name or even their first name.” Roy shrugged. “I can’t believe you didn’t know the story. It’s world famous at this point. Guards are still out there looking for her.”

This must be her vacation home, Roy thought. Maybe she was royalty from a far off land.

Adore studied the man carefully. His story seemed sincere, and not in the least bit made up. It would be hard to fabricate a story like that especially on the spot. She decided she would give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

“A lost princess huh? Seems romantic. Do you think they’ll ever find her?” Adore asked.

“I doubt it, but I have her crown right-” Roy tried to reach down by his side, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t move his arms. Looking down at his waist, he realized he no longer had his satchel.

“Where the fuck is my satchel?” Roy exclaimed, jerking about in the chair.

“I’ve hidden it.” Adore said proudly. She was happy she hadn’t show her fear at his outburst, but realized this could be the start of him showing his true colors.

“No no no, you see blondie-”

Here comes the manipulation mother warned me about,she thought.

“It’s Adore.” Adore snapped.

“A door, a window, whatever. I need that satchel. There are some scary guys after me and I need to go back to the city to sell that crown on the black market.” Roy huffed.

Adore had no idea what this Corona was that he kept mentioning, where it was, what a black market was, or why Roy had chosen to come hide in her tower out of all of the other places in the world. Nonetheless, she believed that this encounter was meant to be her way out and to the floating lights. It was a sign:

“Something brought you here, Roy. Fate, destiny-”

“A horse.” Roy muttered.

“Whatever. Everything happens for a reason, and I truly believe there’s a reason you’re here with me right now. I’m willing to give your satchel back and the crown; on one condition.”

“What’s the condition?” Roy asked.

“You will escort me to the floating lights, which are supposed to be happening in 2 days time.”

“Floating lights? You mean the stupid lantern send off they do every year for the lost princess?”

“They’re lanterns duh!” Adore exclaimed. “ I knew it! I knew they weren’t stars.”

“You don’t get out much do you?” Roy asked dryly.

“Anyway, yes I need you to take me to the lanterns so I can see them on my birthday. Then I’ll need you to escort me back, then and ONLY then will I give you your crown back.” Adore crossed her arms. “Your birthday is July 14th? How old will you be Adore?” Roy asked, ignoring Adore’s conditions.

“18. Why?” Adore tilted her head smiling, still gripping onto her frying pan.

The color suddenly drained out of Roy’s face as he began to do the math. Long blonde hair. Green eyes. 18 on the 14th. It all matched up perfectly…could this be her? She definitely wasn’t a princess visiting from a far away land.

If this girl was the lost princess, she literally had no idea who her parents really were. If she didn’t even realize that the lanterns weren’t stars, then that would indicate that she had never even left the tower before. Or whoever was keeping her from the city didn’t want her to know about them, for that very reason.

If he could bring her to the king and queen, he would be dubbed a hero for finding their daughter and most likely given a fat reward.

But he had to make sure this was really her. The real Adore would most likely have some sort of magical powers from being healed by the golden flower in the womb.

The golden flower… the one that his mother died over. How ironic, that 18 years later he would be trying to get the golden flower yet again. He could he face to face with the human version of it basically if this was the princess.

12 years in an orphanage, all for that flower. That one chance to save his dad’s life, but instead ended both of his parents life.

He had the chance now to make things better for himself. If this was the Adore, she would save his life in the way his parents couldn’t save their own. That in itself would make up for not being able to give his dad the golden flower all those years ago.

“No reason. I’ll help you out blondie. But I can’t do much tied to this chair.”

——————

Roy was standing outside underneath the shade of a nearby oak tree, arms crossed in front of his chest annoyed.

“You’re acting like you’ve never been outside before.” Roy huffed impatiently.

Adore stood at the bottom of the steps with the satchel, and a basket filled with food, clothes, and other necessities.

It was only one more step until she was completely out of the tower.

“I haven’t.” Adore confessed.

Roy’s eyes widened as he looked for any sign of a joke in Adore’s voice. When she didn’t say anything more, he cleared his throat.

“Wait, so you’ve really never been outside of that tower?” Roy asked gently now. He had no idea how locked up Adore had really been. This was pointing more and more to his theory that she was the lost princess.

“No, never.” Adore said softly. She looked timidly down at the ground, bending down to touch it with her fingers.

“Ew. That feels weird. I have to step on that? ” Adore said disgusted wiping the dirt off of her hands onto the sides of her dress.

“You don’t actually feel it! That’s why you wear shoes blondie!” Roy cackled

Ugh, that felt so grossAdore thought. She sighed, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. Was this going to be worth it? Sneaking out behind her mother’s back with a strange man that she’s never even met?

There was only one way to find out.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stepped onto the soft grass for the first time.

“Congratulations. Now can we hit the road? I have a place we could go and stay for the night, but we need to leave now.” Roy urged.

Adore shut the front door and turned around slowly away from the tower for the first time ever.

The field the tower was in had a gold cast from the late afternoon sun. Purple and pink wildflowers were sprouted in various places along the path, and over to the west there was a dense forest surrounding the entire area. Birds sang above her as they flew high above them, and the clouds painted the immaculate blue sky. It was so warm and it felt so so good to breathe the outside air.

She had never realized how secluded she really was from the rest of the world until now. Her heart was racing as she realized she had done it! She had really left!

Just from this little taste of the outdoors, she knew that she wanted to experience every part of the world that she could.

Leaving the tower was definitely worth it.

“Let’s go!” Adore exclaimed, jumping as she began to run towards the forest.

“Jesus what the fuck got into you?” Roy asked as he jogged alongside her.

“This is my first time outside ever! Can’t you be more happy for me?” Adore asked as they slowed down right before the entrance to the woods.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or concerned.” Roy mumbled. He saw the excitement leave her eyes, and he instantly regretted what he said.

“My mom was just trying to protect me,” Adore said in defense, “I’m sure your mom is the same way.”

“My mom is dead, so try again.” Roy said abruptly.

Shit, filter Roy. Try using it every now and then, he thought. Adore was the last person he should be blunt with right now. He didn’t want to push her away.

Adore frowned and reached out to touch the young man’s arm softly.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Roy shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

“It’s fine. I got a dark sense of humor out of it at least.” Roy smirked.

“Dark as night.” Adore mumbled as she stopped at the sight of large curtains of ivy.

“Speaking of dark, it’s going to be almost pitch black in there. Are you afraid of the dark?” Roy teased.

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Adore said confidently.

“Then why did you hesitate?” Roy asked. “Kidding.”

Adore rolled her eyes at him, pushing aside the ivy to lead the way. She had no idea where she was going, but she was sure Roy would guide her if she was leading them in the wrong direction.

It was really dark in the forest. Adore could barely see in front of her, let alone any sort of pathway. She clutched onto her basket firmly, trying not to seem like a scared little girl. Her mother was strong and independent, and she needed to be the same way. She didn’t want to seem weak in front of Roy.

“This way.” Roy said, grabbing her hand softly as he lead them down a new path.

The forest was eerie, there was a sick feeling that Adore was staring to get in her stomach as they moved further and further into the woods. She gripped onto Roy’s hand tighter as they made their way through the winding pathways.

They continued to walk in silence for a little while, until Adore heard a faint rustle of leaves.

“Oh my god, what was that?!” Adore exclaimed, jumping onto Roy. Roy, startled, stepped back to support the both of them but ended up tripping and falling backwards. Landing on his back, shortly after Adore tumbled face first onto his chest he watched her basket of clothes and perishables go flying in the other direction.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t hit your head did I? I really tried not to.” Adore rushed, stroking his face soothingly.

Roy smiled as he felt the soft hand touch his face. No one had touched him so tenderly in years. He let his face relax against her hand as she hesitated studying his features.

This was the first time she had seen him really smile, she realized. He didn’t seem like a bad person, and he didn’t seem so deceiving either. Someone with eyes like melted caramel couldn’t have one bad intention in their heart. There was no way. Adore could just feel the kindness radiating out of Roy as she stroked his cheek, making sure to carefully remove the dirt from it. He smirked, revealing two indentations in his cheeks instantly making Adore’s face heat.

“You have really cute dimples, you should smile more often.” Adore murmured, smiling as she removed her hand from his face. She stood up, dusting herself off and making sure everything was back into the basket. She felt her stomach fill with some sort of uneasy feeling - was she nausous? Was it that weird gut feeling that her romance novels talked about whenever the women found a man attractive? She couldn’t exactly tell, but she felt like it was a good thing so she decided to ignore it. She ignored the foreign feeling in her stomach, and what her mom had always told her about romance novels, that they weren’t real interpretations of men and the way that they acted.

“Thanks,” Roy said, brushing off the dust from his shoulders “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just ready to be out of this stupid forest.” Adore admitted.

“Look over there.” Roy pointed. Why did it seem so long when he was running from the royal guard?

In the near distance, a literal light at the end of the forest could be seen. Adore sighed in relief.

“Thank god.” Adore breathed.

They exited the forest briskly, walking alongside a path for a little while in silence. It was a comfortable silence though, the two of them lost in their thoughts as they traveled.

For having just met, Adore was sure trustworthy of him. If he were any other man, she would most likely be in grave danger. In this day and age,a lot of men were pigs who would take advantage of such a beauty. Roy shuddered at the thought of the young girl being harmed, and in that moment was thankful that he was the one that had found her instead of well, literally anyone else.

Roy would be the first to admit it didn’t take much for him to fall for a girl - but there was something so refreshing about Adore that he was drawn to. He just couldn’t help himself. She was so positive despite being locked in a tower for her entire life- which reminded him he needed to really hear the rest of that backstory.

Then he remembered that would make her curious about his backstory. And Roy didn’t do backstories.

As he continued to ponder why he was so drawn to someone that he had just met, he noticed that they had arrived in front of the bar he had wanted to go to. Adore had stopped on the nearby riverbank for some water, and to gaze at the surroundings. The excitement was written all over her face, and he hated to ruin it; but Roy needed to get inside and talk to Courtney - who knows how long he had until the royal guard found him.

“This is where we’re staying tonight! Let’s go.” Roy called.

———————-

Once they were seated in the bar area, Roy grinned at all of the attention that they were getting from the other customers. Him and Adore sure looked like a motley cru. Adore was dressed in some of the richest fabrics Roy had ever seen, with hair that could wrap around the width of the restaurant two times over. Adore’s hair had leaves, broken tree branches, flower petals, and all sorts of things stuck to the ends.

And Roy was well, Roy.

“What can I get you- Oh my god pussyface!” The short blonde exclaimed. She quickly set down their waters on the table and bounced up and down in excitement, her perky breasts jiggling in her dress. She embraced Roy in a hug, smiling ear to ear.

“Calm down jiggly, jeez.” Roy laughed, squeezing her in for a close hug. When they moved apart the girl eyed Adore, raising an eyebrow at Roy.

“Are you going to introduce me to your beautiful girlfriend or what?” She teased, punching him in the arm playfully.

Roy, blushing and now appearing flustered, stumbled over his words before he uttered:

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Well she should be! What’s your name sweet thing? And where did you get all of that beautiful hair?” She eyed the long hair swept across her shoulder as it drooped onto the floor.

“My name is Adore, and I got it from my mom bitch!” Adore exclaimed.

Roy spit out his water in shock as his high pitched laugh echoed throughout the bar.

“My god you’re feisty. I like you, my name’s Courtney. Your drink is on the house!” Courtney exclaimed amused as she walked away.

“What was so funny?” Adore asked puzzled.

“You’re just this cute little thing, I didn’t think a dainty girl like you could ever utter such a dirty word.” Roy chuckled. He actually found it quite charming that Adore had been bold enough to introduce herself that way. No other girl would ever call another female a bitch to their face, at least not in this day and age.

“First of all, I’m not dainty.” Adore started. “And second of all, doesn’t everyone cuss?”

“Most women usually don’t.” Roy shrugged meekly.

“Well, I’m not like most girls.” Adore said.

It was a simple statement, but something about it made Roy look at her in a different way. Yes, clearly she was not like other girls with her miles of blonde hair but there was something so alluring about her that he just couldn’t put his finger on. There were so many faucets to her personality, she was just so fascinating. He just couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. He noticed that her eyes had deepened to more of an emerald color in the warm light of the bar - was it the bar lights or had they always been that dark of a green?

“Would you believe that Courtney’s a man?” Roy asked wiggling his eyebrows, changing the subject. Adore probably had absolutely no idea what a drag queen was, but she was definitely about to find out tonight.

“A man? What are you talking about? She’s clearly a woman. Stop messing with me.” Adore argued annoyed. Roy’s lips curled up in amusement and she scowled at him. She was a bit irritated with Roy now, he seemed to be enjoying her embarrassing herself.

“When she comes back, ask her.” Roy smiled.

As if on cue, Courtney came back smiling with two drinks. The one for Adore was dark blue, while the one Roy had was brown in a small square glass. Adore raised an eyebrow at him, not challenging his lie as she tried to figure out what kind of drink Courtney made. Was it a blueberry lemonade?

“Have you lost your mind?” Roy hissed, glaring at Adore’s blue drink. The “Adios” was famous for staying true to it’s name, and with the 7 different liquors decorating it - Adore would only need one.

“Whatever do you mean?” Courtney asked sweetly. She winked at Roy, who was now scowling. The last thing he wanted to do was be a babysitter.

Adore had taken a large gulp of the liquid, expecting something fruity and sweet. She coughed as she felt the burning alcohol hit her throat.

Why did people like alcohol? It’s disgusting! She thought. She frowned as she realized it was un lady-like not to finish a drink, especially a free one.

Roy looked at her sympathetically and took a sip of his scotch.

“Adore, you should just chug that and get it over with.” Roy suggested. If she got drunk now, she could go pass out quicker which would leave him more time to sweet talk Courtney into letting them stay the night.

“Yeah right, I’m not going to listen to you again.” Adore said annoyed. She pushed the drink aside, already feeling the alcohol settling in her stomach.

“Wise girl.” Courtney commented. Roy shot her a side eye and she winked in return.

“Thank you Courtney. He was trying to tell me earlier that you’re a man. What a jerk right?” Adore asked, twirling a piece of blonde hair around her finger.

Courtney’s face went from amused to shock and back to amused all within 30 seconds.

“He did now?” Courtney asked playfully, glaring at Roy.

“Yeah, I knew it was a lie because you’re so beautiful and there’s no way! Like look, she has boobies Roy.” Adore exclaimed, pointing to Courtney’s breasts.

Roy was cackling so hard now that he was bent over in his chair. Clearly, Adore was buzzed already, only after a literal sip. He was having way too much fun teasing her. She was a very gullible 18 year old, although he didn’t know how many young girls were really interested in the art of drag.

Adore rolled her eyes, taking the remainder of her drink and chugging it. Roy’s jaw dropped as he watched her successfully drain the remains of the cocktail.

She just knew how to surprise him over and over again.

“He acts like I’m so stupid. Does he do that with you Court? I’ve read more books than he probably ever will in his entire lifetime.” Adore continued, noting that the room was starting to have a foggy edge to it.

“False.” Roy retorted. He had been in an orphanage yes, but that didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of the education.

“Listen Adore. I’ll tell you a big secret of mine.” Courtney paused for dramatic effect as she stared down at Adore. “I really am a man.”

“No fucking way! Prove it!” Adore shouted, standing up on her chair, teetering slightly. This must be what it’s like to be drunk, she thought. Everything around her was spinning, and she felt giddy. Maybe she was on a natural high from disobeying her mom for the first time.

“Jesus Roy, do you see what you’ve started? Fine, come backstage with me. But I’ll only prove it to you on one condition.” Courtney said.

“What’s the condition?” Adore asked eagerly.

“Roy has to dress up as Bianca del Rio.”

Roy groaned, slamming his drink down on the table.

“No, not worth it.” Roy shook his head.

“You can be a girl too?” Adore asked slurring. “You’re just a fuckin’ magician aren’t you?”

“Bianca is not a girl- trust me. She is a clown in a gown, there’s a big difference. “ Roy scoffed, before turning towards the waitress. “Damnit Courtney, I almost want to humor your stupid condition.”

“Humor her. I wanna meet Bianca.” Adore said.

“Fine, but only if Courtney agrees to fix your rat nest of a hairdo. It’s a fucking catastrophe frankly, and probably has 50 different species living in it as we speak.” Roy snapped.

“Deal, ” Courtney answered, much to Roy’s dismay as she shook his hand