#ran so far with this joke i think i overdid it a bit it was just meant to b funne joke not full coloured thing....

[turnaboutchaos]

out of the closet with ye, naruhodo

[certifiedskywalker]

The Person I Love - Klaus Hargreeves

Ever since you met Klaus Hargreeves, you knew you were in it for the long haul. You didn’t care about his past or his powers; you only wanted him. But when drugs begin to consume him, you’re left with a choice. Get him the help he needs and miss him or watching him kill himself slowly. You love him too much to watch him suffer.

AN: Okay, she’s a long one!. Any feedback/suggestions you have would be greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Angst, cursing, drug abuse (it comes with the territory), and slight sexual joke/implication(?)not really though

You had never known a sober version of Klaus. As much as you hated to dwell on the thought, you were certain he was high when he met you. How could someone like him smile at you like he did without being influenced by chemicals coursing through his veins. Perhaps it was meeting you, speaking to you, that upturned the corners of his mouth, but the rational part of you denied that as fact. However, in your darkest moments, you liked to think that smile was unaltered by any sort of pill. It was what made the nights less difficult and the days not so long. That thought made it all worth it when you woke up next to him, that same smile on his lips as he reclined in the hospital bed.

“Does this gown make me look fat?” “Never,” you say, smiling right back at him. The smile fades for a moment as you rub at sleep still clouding your eyes. By now, you were used to falling asleep in uncomfortable chairs; however, despite your experience, your body retained each ache. “You didn’t have to stay,” Klaus says softly, eyes taking in your tired expression. You slumped in the chair, turning your head to stare at him with an all too loving gaze. “You know that I do,” you hum in reply, “wouldn’t have it any other way.” It was a lie. Both of you knew that. You would love to have Klaus sober, to know that he was safe with the temptation of drugs behind him and the threat of death a far off cry. “Careful,” Klaus tsked, “grow any more honorable and you’ll turn into Luther.” You smile at the mention of his brother. You hadn’t actually met the man but, from what Klaus told you, his overbearing sense of morality was stupefying.

“So, what happened this time?” Your question prompted silence from the man before you. He tore his green eyes away from your face and fiddled with his hands that rested in his lap. The IV stuck into his hand shifted with each movement and you wondered if Klaus had grown too comfortable with the feeling of needles under his skin.

“Ya know, the usual,” he brushed off your worry with practiced ease, “overdid it. You know I was never any good with fractions and conversions.” Klaus chuckled, hoping his laughter would coax a grin your lips again. When it didn’t, Klaus knew something within you had been altered by this hospital stay. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, eyes widening now with shock. “Klaus, what’s wrong is that the nurses here are on a friendly, first name basis with you. What’s wrong is that we have had more sleep overs in this room than we have had at our own homes.” You were standing now, trying to distract yourself from the tears that were beginning to gather in your eyes.

“Y/N,” Klaus started to speak, but for the first time in his life, no words came to mind. You frowned at his new found quiet and continued. You stepped up to the foot of the bed so you could look directly at him as you spoke.

“This is the fifth time you’ve told me you ‘overdid it’ and I’m starting to…” you bit your lip at the thought and Klaus sat up in his bed. You turned your gaze back to him, taking in his wild mess of chocolate curls and the guilty concern written across his face. “I’m starting to think that maybe you’re doing it on purpose.”

Klaus’ jaw snapped shut and any words he had gathered died on the tip of his tongue. His eyes took in your form, from your baggy clothes that told him that, when the doctor called you, you had been ready for bed, and to the bags under your shining eyes. All signs of your worry and lack of true rest; a privilege you lost when you put your name down as Klaus’ emergency contact. You never told him that you did that, or how it felt more like a marriage certificate as you signed your very soul over to him and his bad choices. What hurt him, hurt you in ways he could never fathom. Not even now.

You sniffled and the sound filled the air around you. Still stuck in stunned silence, Klaus could only watch as you strode over to the chair. Fishing under the cushion, you pulled out pamphlets from the check in desk and the papers you had been given. You handed them out to him, your hands shaking when his fingers brushed against yours to grab them.

“That’s the doctor’s recommended treatment plan,” you murmured as Klaus trailed his gaze over the papers. His eyes caught the title of one of the foldables you had stole from the desk, reading ‘Steady Oaks Rehabilitation Center’. It was then he turned his head to look at you again. Green eyes become glassy as he stared up at you.

“I don’t-”

“It’s just something to consider, Klaus,” you said softly, too tired to be any louder than a whisper. “Let me know what you decide.” You leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. His skin felt cold when it brushed against your lips and you couldn’t tell if that was the cause of the shiver down your spine or the overwhelming love you felt for him shooting through your body.

“I’ll call you,” Klaus said swiftly, as if he were frightened that you were going to leave before he could give you any semblance of reassurance. You gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded.

“I’ll be waiting,” you replied before slipping out of his hospital room, the image of that first smile dancing in front of your eyes. He watched you go, eyelids fluttering in a vain attempt to quell the tears in gathering in his eyes. With the hopes of distracting himself Klaus opened the pamphlet for the rehabilitation center. A pen fell from it’s folds and into his lap.

Looking from where it fell, Klaus saw a blue header underlined in dark ink. ‘Coping with a Loved One’s Addiction’, bolded in it’s print. A sudden and violent sob shook Klaus’ body. His shoulder sagged and his face contorted in pain. Now he knew; he knew just how much his hurt had hurt you. Not even Ben had to tell him.

Klaus didn’t call for a while. You waited nonetheless, loyal as a dog and never not consistent. Whenever you were home you’d spare glances at the phone hung on the wall of your apartment, just waiting. When you woke and the receiver was flashing you’d be sent into a panic. You’d listen to every message, waiting for the familiar, lyrical tones of Klaus’ voice asking what you were up to and if you wanted any company.

Not once did you hear his recorded greeting and when you tried to call him, the line beeped once until it cut off. Silently, you prayed to any and all powerful beings that Klaus was only behind on phone bills not, like his landline, dead. The only shred of hope you clung to was that the hospitals had not called you either. However, that one solace did nothing to dull the ache in your heart. You missed Klaus dearly and desperately.

On one particularly rain-ridden day, your longing was nearing the point of madness. Worried had plagued your heart for close to three weeks now. While it wasn’t unusual for Klaus to disappear for long stretches of time, he always called. Always. You were about to call the police, the hospital, even some of his family members when your phone rang.

Rushing towards it, you saw that the number was unknown. A strange combination of numbers that was foreign to you ran across the caller ID. A new wave of anguish washed over you. You picked up the phone, pressing it to your ear in the hopes that whoever was on the other end had something good to tell you.

“Hello?” You asked bitterly, unable to hide your disappointment. A few long moments of silence passed as you heard muffled shuffling noises on the other end. “Hello?”

“H-Hey you.” The voice was unmistakable and it made your whole being tremble with shocks of emotion. “Sorry I haven’t called. These piss-hats don’t allow phone calls until ‘the patient shows a growing sense of responsibility and stability’. What morons, right?”

“Klaus!” You said, tears flowing from your eyes and you giggled at his impression. He chuckled on the other end and you could almost hear that smile of his.

“Y/N!”

“I’ve missed you,” you gushed into the phone, leaning your shoulder up against the wall. You twirled the coiled cord between your fingers as you sank into the sound of Klaus’ voice. “So you checked yourself in?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I did, I just,” Klaus mumbled the rest, making it hard for you to pick up.

“What?”

“I checked myself in, yeah.” He said quickly and you noted the slight panic in his tone.

“What did you say after that?” You pressed, the phone against your ear became your life line as you waited for his reply. All you could think of was Klaus, standing against the wall of the center he was in, smiling like he did. You missed that smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you hearing things, Y/N? I sure hope not, because that’s my thing.” You giggled softly, shaking your head at his humor.

“Klaus,” you groaned teasingly, your back fully resting on the wall of your apartment. You heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end, the kind that told you that what you said shocked your friend somehow. “Klaus?”

“Say it again, please,” his voice was almost a whimper. The sound of it made your heart ache while goosebumps simultaneously rose along your arms.

“Klaus,” you repeat, in a lower whisper this time. He sighed on the other end and you could almost feel his breath tickling your neck like how it did when he whispered a joke in your ear.

“I miss you,” he keened, “so much, I didn’t know it was possible.” Your breath caught in your throat at his words and you longed to be with him in the moment. To see him, not in your mind, but in reality; be able to reach out and touch him, give him comfort.

“I miss you too,” you murmur and that’s enough for him. It has to be. His phone call time is running out, the woman in her uniform tapping her wrist with a scowl.

“Keep missing me,” he begged, “I have to go Y/N. I’ll call you again when I can.”

“Klaus, wait,” you begin but he keeps going.

“Oh and tell my landlord to suck a dick, okay?” You stifle a laugh.

“Okay, but hold on,” you start again but he stops you once more.

“I gotta go, Y/N,” he says quickly, but he pauses after a split second before adding, “I love you.” Your mouth opened but no words came out, only his name again. Like a prayer, it fell from your lips, a promise that rang in both of your ears.

“Klaus,” your voice is low, quiet, timid from his admittance.

“I know,” he replied, pressing his forehead to the wall next to him. He liked to imagine you were doing the same in your apartment. Maybe you were even wearing one of the shirts he had left there from a long ago stay on your couch. He hated that couch.

“I lov-” The line went dead before you could finish and you felt your very life force drain. Angrily, you hung the phone up on the receiver with tears welling up in your eyes. “I love you too,” you whispered with a sad smile, “I love you too.”

On the other end, Klaus was staring daggers at the woman who had plucked the phone from his grasp. He opened his mouth, a sense of rage he saved mostly towards his father threatening to spill out from his lips. The woman only huffed at his expression, raising an eyebrow in wait. Klaus bit his tongue, knowing that if he acted out now they could keep him here longer.

“Well,” he said once he had taken a few breaths, “that was quite rude.” The woman grumbled something under her breath before pushing him along. As they walked down the narrow hallway, Klaus’ mind exchanged the blue painted walls for those of your apartment. If he tried hard enough he could see you in your kitchen, swaying slightly to the beat of the music playing from the nearby record player.

It was a sight he had seen many times before. On those nights where he had stayed over, back pressed to the couch in your cramped living room, he would pretend to still be sleeping. His eyes would be barely open, just enough to catch your movements in tune with the music. The image brought a smile to Klaus’ lips as he was led back to his room. As his door shut behind him, he silently hoped you were smiling because you loved him too.

It was cold the day Klaus was to be released. Nonetheless, you stood outside the rehab center, nervously picking at your nails. It was a habit that you had adopted from Klaus. Now you knew the action spawned from his symptoms of withdrawal. Puzzles pieces of his life started to fall together before you, amplified by his time away.

In your waking hours, thoughts of Klaus consumed you. You thought back to any and every memory you had of him in between hoping he was eating and wishing he were with you. The phones calls were all too rare and much too brief for your mind to cease thinking about his occupation of your heart. What made it all the more wonderfully worse was that the calls didn’t end with the same longing ‘I love you’ as the first one had.

You had rationalized that Klaus said it by mistake, caught up in the heat of the moment, or meant in a way that was purely platonic. From the moment you had met him, you knew Klaus was full of undying compassion. His loyalty went without question and was nothing but constant; unless the hunger for his next high rendered him powerless. So it wouldn’t surprise you if he had meant his words without the punctuation of romance. For, from the moment you had met him, Klaus was never in a relationship for very long.

It was that alone that held you back from telling Klaus how you truly felt about him. You didn’t want to lose him in the same way so many others had. Instead, you made yourself comfortable as a dear friend, the friend that gave Klaus a place to stay when his newest partner told him to get lost. It was similar to the present moment. Once he emerged from the rehabilitation center, Klaus was going to call your couch home for a while.

The thought of having him around again made you smile to yourself, warming your cheeks against the Autumn chill that had taken over New York. It was clear things would be different, Klaus would need extra attention, but you were willing to give him that. Hell, you were eager to. You peered at the clock, biting at the inside of your cheek as you calculated just how much longer it would be until Klaus was by your side again.

Your brows furrowed as you did the math, wondering if perhaps the clock was a few minutes too fast. A few people washed out onto the sidewalk you stood upon, blocking your view slightly. With a groan, you craned your neck until you could see the time again. Five minutes until you could see him again. Could that be right?

“And I thought I was bad with time, ha!” Klaus’ voice made you spin so quickly on your heels that you reached out for him to stabilize yourself. “Whoa, easy!”

His long fingers wrap around your wrists, holding you still as you take him in. The sight of him fills your soul like air in your lungs, like you need him. His bright green eyes scan over your features, that signature smile playing on his pink lips. One of your hands lifts from his arm and trails up to grasp his chin. The facial hair he had been growing out was styled, making him look older than he did when you last laid eyes on him.

“I like this,” you said, rubbing your thumb over the hair on his chin. Klaus let out a breathy chuckle so light he matched the tone of his eyes.

“Hoped that you would,” he teased, his teeth curling his bottom lip a moment as he took in your face. Cheeks and nose rosy from the breeze, your neck wrapped in a scarf he had stolen for you long ago. It had been too long. “You’re the only one worth looking good for.”

Silence rests between your bodies, everything you both want to say read like poems in your eyes. You feel stinging behind your eyes as you peer into Klaus’ green ones. Carefully, as if he were broken glass, you skirt your thumb across his cheek. His breath hitches for a moment and he feels that pulling in his heart; that same feeling he left whenever you left the room.

“I’ve missed you,” you say at the same time, prompting a mess of laughing sobs from your throats. You only shake your head, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and leaning into his frame. Instinct falls over Klaus as his arms find their places on your waist. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes when the smell of your soap and the feeling of your body on his overwhelms his senses.

You held each other for a while. People gawked at the sight of you two as they passed by. The sidewalk seems to grow more crowded as Klaus clung to you tightly. A few more minutes go by until Klaus pulls away from you. Despite the smile playing on his plush lips, the glimmer that had shone in his eyes seemed to fade.

“I am absolutely starved,” he groans, patting his stomach to emphasize it’s emptiness. You grin at him, having missed his childish demeanor. He smiles at the sight of yours and extends his hand to you. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you play along, taking his cold hand in yours. His finger’s intertwine with yours as if it was where they were meant to be. As you start to walk, Klaus recalls the wonderful and colorful people had he met. While he talks, you spare a glance up at him. His curls bounce with each step and the lines in his face deepen as he tries to impersonate one of the other patients he had met. He was still your Klaus only, hopefully, sober.

When you don’t laugh at his sorry attempt of a baritone voice, Klaus turns his gaze on you. His smile holds true even as he stares at you with slight confusion. Lips parted and eyes, with slightly dilated pupils, appear more like a soft, yellow-green in the sunlight. You swear you had seen a puppy in the park one day with the same expression.

“What?” He asked, nudging his shoulder against your as you both continue to walk. He lifts a hand to pull his eyelid away from one of his eyes, a twisted grin on his features. “Is there something in my eye?”

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head at the goof of a man beside you. “No, just good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Klaus agrees, his tone falling into one more serious as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You both round the corner of the street and soon, Griddy’s Donuts comes into your line of sight.   

“I don’t see why we had to come home to have tea. Don’t they have tea at Griddy’s?” You ask, reaching into your cupboard for the stash of tea you had kept. Finding the right brew, you pulled two mugs down as well, setting it all out on the counter. You glance over at Klaus who, despite being in your apartment before, wandered about your small living room like a weary traveler.

He liked the way you had said ‘home’, as if it was shared. As if you had both lived there together for years and, in a sense, Klaus could argue that you had. Nights he spent sprawled out on your couch, whining about everything and anything while you listened. You always listened. Home, he thought, he could get used to that.

“They do,” Klaus says finally, turning away from your book shelf to smile at you. “But I wouldn’t wish that rat poison on my worst enemy. Tea shouldn’t smell like monkey shit.” You giggle as you pour water into the kettle. Klaus didn’t realize how much he had missed the sound of your laughter.

“Good to know,” you muse. Setting the kettle on the stove, you start a low flame beneath it. As you waited to see some steam, Klaus turned his attention back to your bookshelf. His eyes skimmed over the titles of works he was horribly unfamiliar with. It wasn’t until he reached the few bottom shelves when he felt more knowledgeable.

“Your vinyl’s are as dusty as my father’s closet,” Klaus teased, pulling at a few of the cardboard sleeves to read the artist’s name. “I should know,” he added, “I spent a lot of time in closets.”

“I haven’t used it in a while,” you explained. You strode out of your tiny kitchen and over to where Klaus had crouched down. His fur coat brushed the hardwood floor of your apartment, nearly concealing his sneakers from your view. He looked so small as you stood over him.

“Why ever not? There’s always time for music!” He exclaimed, standing with a record in his hand. You didn’t get a chance to look at the title or tell him that, ever since he had checked himself into rehab and out of your life, all the music had bled from your life. Any song you had dared to listen to reminded you of his smile and brought you to tears. You had cried enough with just the crushing feeling of missing Klaus, so you figured it was best to give music a rest until he returned.

“I was just busy, I guess,” you mumble as Klaus slid the record from it’s sleeve. With nimble fingers, he placed the disk on the player and set the needle. When he faces you again, the side of his mouth is quirked upwards in a shy smile that was only reserved for you.

“Too busy to spare a dance?” He extends his hand to you as the first few notes of Elton John’s ‘Rocketman’ crackled on the record player. “I’ll lead,” he added, “if that helps.”

“Says the man with two left feet,” you joked before taking his hand. Klaus chuckled, pulling you to the middle of your living room so you would both had more space.

“You only say that ‘cause you’re jealous.” As he spoke, Klaus intertwined your fingers with his once more and rested his other hand just above your hip. Even through your clothes, you could feel the coldness of his fingertips.

“Hm, me jealous? I don’t think so,” you jeered back, placing your own hand on his upper arm as Klaus began to waltz. Your bodies moved together as if they were never parted. Klaus smiled at you wickedly and dared to take a sneaky step closer to you. Your face went pink at the action, his proximity to you making your heart beat even faster.

“Then why do you look so flustered, my dear?” Klaus’ tone drips with smugness when the pet name slips over his lips. He only called you ‘dear’ when he wanted something. You could remember the first time it had happened a few months into your friendship. Klaus had pulled you to a parade of some sort in the city in July. The sun was beating down on everyone and you were taking a drink from your water bottle when he spoke up.

“Can I steal a sip, my dear?” The name had sent the butterflies nesting in your stomach into a frenzy. You couldn’t remember now if you had even replied to his question. All you did recall is handing him the bottle and Klaus throwing a skinny arm over your shoulders.

That was the same day you realized you were falling for your friend. Klaus looked so carefree as he danced down the street, following the brightly colored floats with music blaring from their speakers. He had asked you to dance then too. Both of you had made absolute fools of yourselves but even when he wasn’t trying, Klaus made it look graceful, easy. It was so easy to be with him.

“Where’d you go?” Klaus’ new question pulled you back from your reflection. His dark brows were knitted in slight concern and you felt the hand he had your hip rub against your side in an attempt to bring you back to the present.

“No where,” you said, giving him a smile, “I was just thinking.” Klaus huffed, his expression losing it’s rare face of worriment.

“That’s awfully dangerous.” You nodded, biting your lower lip as you debated in your mind to tell him. To tell him how much you had thought about him while he was gone, how much you really loved him and ask if he loved you.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “it is sometimes.” Klaus must have sensed the change of mood because he dropped his hand from yours. Soon it found its place on your other hip and was pulling you even closer to him. To press away any space between your bodies, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and around his slim neck. Your head now rested against his chest and you could hear the quick, steady beat of his heart.

“Then don’t think,” Klaus murmured, his breath stirring strands of your hair.

“That’s easier said than it is done,” you replied with a sigh. Hoping to hide from your own thoughts and Klaus’ field of vision, you pressed your face deeper against his chest.

“Drugs help,” he said, so nonchalantly it scared you. You pulled away and gave him a look of fear. Klaus took in your wide eyes and parted lips, realizing he had gone too far. Before he could apologize you spoke up.

“Are you still using?” You didn’t know if you wanted him to tell you quickly or slowly. If he had to think it over, he was using, but if he answered too fast he could be lying. Every idea tormented your brain in a barrage of guilt and annoyance. All you wanted was a moment, untainted, with him.

“Y/N,” Klaus started, stepping close to you once more with his hands reaching for you waist. You hadn’t realized you had pushed yourself so far away from him. “I’m not using.”

“So it’s just you?” You asked, leaning into his renewed touch.

“Well, you’re gonna have to be more specific on that.” You cocked your head to the side and Klaus smiled at your confusion. “Ben is here. Luckily this place isn’t haunted.” You sighed and pinched his shoulder before falling against his chest again.

“Hi Ben,” you said softly, eyes skirting around your living room as if by chance, you could see his spectral form. Klaus laughed suddenly and you felt him shake his head.

“He says ‘hi’ too,” he mumbled something afterwards, directed towards Ben, and you smiled.

“And something else, I presume?” Klaus exhaled through his nose and glanced down you in his arms. Swaying to the sound of Elton John’s voice, you looked so soft. Klaus nodded to your question before sinking into your warmth and the lyrics that filled the room.

“What did he say?”

“Oh you know,” Klaus scoffed, trailing off in the hopes you would drop the topic. Klaus peered over his shoulder and his eyes found Ben. He stood in your kitchen, shaking his head at the sight of you both. Klaus lifted a hand from the small of your back and gestured for his brother to go away. Ben sighed and walked down the hallway of your apartment.

“I actually don’t know,” you teased, “that’s why you’re here.”

“Here to act as the conduit in which you flirt with my dead brother? I knew it,” Klaus said, his voice sad, over-dramatically so. “And here I thought you truly loved me. Y/N, you’re cold hearted.”

“I do,” you said quietly, with a tone of voice that dripped with a sincerity that cut through Klaus’ playful show.

“What?” He sounded genuinely confused at your words and looked the part too when you pulled yourself away from his chest to look into his eyes. The vibrant green was darker now in the low light of your apartment.

The question hovered between the two of you for a while longer. Your mind was racing, wandering through every possible outcome that your next few words could bring about. Klaus, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking at all. One of his hands trailed up from your waist to your cheek. The skin was soft to the touch and it took every ounce of will power Klaus had in him not to kiss you then and there. He wanted to kiss you so desperately but, for once in his life, he was ready to wait.

“I do, love you,” you breathed out, as if the words flowed straight from your heart and through your mouth. Klaus’ green eyes seemed to sparkle at your words and the smile that graced his lips sent a wave of adoration over the entirety of your being.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice quiet. It was as if he were a child on the playground, telling his best friend a long kept secret. “Over the phone I meant it. I couldn’t stand not seeing you when I wanted to. I wanted to see the person I love,” he brushed his fingers over your cheek, “and now I can.”

“So poetic, was that Keats? No, wait. It was Dickinson, wasn’t it?” You ask teasingly, prompting Klaus to chuckle. You had never heard him lay it on so thickly before; at least not when the subject of his affections was you.

“You know I never paid attention in literature class,” he leaned a little closer to you. “I always thought, why read poetry when you can make it yourself.” His body was now flush with your own, his hand holding your jaw now. His words melted you into his touch and you found yourself leaning up towards him.

“You should share more often,” you vex, pleased with the sudden mask of confidence that now rested on your features. You weren’t entirely sure where it came from, but you were happy with the results nonetheless. “Maybe I will,” Klaus beamed, his forehead now resting against your own. A few stray brown curls tickled your skin, but you didn’t pay much mind to them. You only hum in response as the music began to fill the quiet between you. Eager, you craned your neck upwards, silently granting Klaus the permission he had been waiting for.

Full of want and unhindered passion, Klaus pressed his lips to yours roughly. You expected nothing less than the rawness that made up his existence. He was himself with you, no drugs required. Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands as Klaus held your close to him. His lips were soft, softer than you ever imagined.

Testing the waters, Klaus grazed the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip. Bending to his will, your mouth parted and the kiss deepened. His hand on your cheek traveled back down to your waist, the other squeezed at your hip. Just as Elton John’s voice faded out, the whistling of the kettle on the stove reached your ears.

“Fuck the tea,” Klaus mumbled against your lips as you started to pull away. His green eyes were dark and lips more of a red color after the bruising kiss you had shared. His gaze danced across your features and he could feel every fiber of his body screaming for you. “Better yet, fuck m-” Klaus began but you pecked his lips again to quiet him.

“You’re the one who wanted the tea,” you pointed out. Klaus watched at you pulled away from his lips, a smile resting on your features. He could only imagine he wore the same expression, if not more dopey and messy.

“I actually want you, the tea was simply a diversion,” he explained, following you into your cramped kitchenette. He studied you as you turned the stove off and prepared the tea bags to steep. The domestic sight sent a shiver down Klaus’ spine. It was a scene he could grow used to seeing. He heard a cough suddenly and he peered down the hallway.

“I actually wanted the tea,” Ben grumbled, but he gave his brother a thumbs up. Ben had done the same thing the day Klaus had met you. Klaus could remember Ben poking at his stunted courage, trying to get him to go up and speak to you. He was glad in that moment, happy for the curse that his father had called a gift. Now, Klaus smiled at his brother. Turning his gaze back to you, Klaus saw a glimmer of possibility shining in your eyes.

[petertingle-yipyip]

Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Four : Only Human

//WHB Masterlist//

 //Series Inspo: @cxptain-capsicle @stuckonspidey // Series Tags: @writingsbychlo @rosegoldhome @peterparker-glee-other @chubsluda @mc225g @olliekookie @fandom-princess-forevermore //

Word Count: 4,405

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Once the adrenaline of the fight wears off and all settles, Y/N ends up showing Peter she’s only human after all. Pushing through broken bones and bruises, she makes a not-so-shocking discovery about her relationship with Petey.

You felt the deep pressure in your head subside as you hear three familiar voices, two male and one automated female. Your seated in the jet, eyes still closed tightly. You felt physically horrible, the worst pain of your life to date. It seemed like even though you were leaving the airport, every scene was playing back in your mind. Every punch. Every hit. Every stupid remark Peter made.

“Peter!” You said quickly, forcing your eyes to open and pushing yourself to sit a bit straighter. Which was a mistake of its own.

“He’s okay.” You heard Happy say gently. “Y/N, he’s alright.”

“Where is he?” You asked anxiously.

“He’s a few rows down. Now will you calm down?” Happy sighed. “Wanna know the damage or should I let Pepper tell you?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. ran a scan already?”

“Scan was running before you even got in the car. Tony had it done so you could get some care as soon as you were lucid.”

“I can feel the concussion already so what else do I have to explain to Mom?”

Happy chuckled. “Report was already sent back to Pepper. She’s getting your pain meds and said they’ll be ready for when you get home. But the concussion, yeah. Fractured radius, cracked ribs, and a sprained ankle.”

“So what, crutches and a wrist brace? Not too bad.” You tried to shrug, the pain immediately stopping you. “Okay, the ribs might be an issue.”

“Here’s a brace for your wrist and one for your ankle. As far as your ribs go, the best we can do right now is just a compressive wrap that’ll hopefully add a little padding and cushion.”

“Alright, sounds good.” You reach out and take the supplies from him.

“You gonna do it yourself?” He asked in shock.

“Well I’m not having you do it.” You laughed weakly. “No, I’ll have Peter help me. Thanks, Happy.”

“Anytime, Y/N/N. You gonna be alright to talk to May when we drop him off?” He asked as you gingerly stood on your feet.

“Yeah, I should be. If she asks, I’ll just say I was training with Natasha and overdid it.” You tilted your head instead of trying to casually shrug it off. “You really don’t need to worry, Hap. Everything’s fine.”

“Your dad always says the same thing, that everything is fine. But you and I both know what that means.” He commented as you made your way to Peter.

You didn’t want to pay too much thought to what Happy had said but he was right. Your dad always insisted everything was fine, even when it wasn’t. You figured that’s where you got it from, but that also meant you and him said everything was fine. Especially when it wasn’t. You tried to put it out of your head when you came up on the row Peter was sitting.

“Hey, Peter.” You smiled slightly as you limped down the aisle. You sat across from Peter, carefully avoiding your tender ribcage. You stayed on the edge of the seat, keeping your weight in one of your heels to keep your ribs from touching anything at all. “How are you feeling?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He shook his head with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” You took a deep breath, instantly regretting it. You knew you couldn’t lie to Peter. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you, or the concern that dripped from his words. You wanted to say ‘Everything’s fine’ but it just felt wrong to lie to Peter. “I’m hurting. Cracked ribs, sprained ankle, fractured radius, mild concussion. Not counting the random bruises.”

“Woah.” He said quietly, his mouth hanging open slightly. “And you don’t just want to go and sleep? Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Completely.” You nodded. “But, all in a day’s work, I guess. Actually, I was hoping you could help me with my wraps? I won’t be able to get the wrist splint and ankle wrap tight enough. And there’s no way I can wrap my ribs alone. And I’m not gonna ask Happy to do it so if you don’t mind…”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.” He nodded, his eyes soft with concern.

Peter took the supplies from your outstretched hands before dropping his eyes. You slowly reached for the bottom of your shirt, painfully pulling it over your head. You sucked in air through your clenched jaw, trying not to exclaim in pain. You dropped your shirt on the seat next to you, sharp pains shooting up your arm and through your upper body.

“Okay, I’m ready.” You said finally. You pushed yourself to stand, leaning on one foot more than the other. You carefully lifted your arms high enough so Peter could wrap the entirety of your ribs without obstruction, but even that small stretch of your torso made you feel like your body was made of paper and someone was tearing small pieces off.

Peter brought his eyes up and felt the heat blossoming out of his chest and up his neck. Your back was facing him at the moment, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracing your figure. Bruises littered your spine, dotting each pair of ribs. He could see welts on your shoulder blades and the swelling of your wrist. He was frozen in place. He could hear your shallow, pained breathing and he could’ve sworn he could feel the pain you were in. He hadn’t even registered that you had turned to face him. Your voice was the only thing that refocused him.

“Earth to Petey.” You chuckled, waving a hand in front of his face. You could see him come back to you and he shook his head quickly, muttering apologies as he securely wrapped your ribcage. You felt his knuckles graze your skin as he walked in circles around you, even though you told it’d be easier if he just stood and used his arms to reach around you.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I mean, more than you already are.” He reasoned.

“I appreciate the thought but standing on this ankle isn’t fun either.” You replied lightheartedly.

Every brush of his fingers made your burning skin feel cold. It was as if he was made of ice, and every touch sent a cooling sensation along whatever nerves it could reach. You winced every now and then when Peter tugged the extra wrap a bit too hard, causing him to apologize more. “It’s not you, Peter. Cracked ribs make everything unbearable. Keep going.” You had to tell him. Once he finished, he helped you into your seat again and knelt to wrap your ankle.

“How’d to manage this one?” He asked, trying to make light conversation.

“I think it’s from when Barnes grabbed me by my ankle. I was trying to head over to you, but he snatched me right out of the air and threw me like a rag doll. Same thing brought the concussion, in case you were wondering.”

“I’m guessing the ribs came from the falling cars then.” He smiled up at you, carefully placing your wrapped ankle on the ground. He shuffled over on his knees, taking your hand in his.

You watched his fingers, carefully avoiding the swollen lump on your wrist. The fracture was in an awkward spot. It was just above the small bones of your wrist, but not high enough to require a full cast. Peter’s nimble fingers closed your hand and turned it so your palm was facing up. He slid the split onto your hand before securing the straps. He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before sitting back and looking up at you.

“Falling...?” You sat in confusion before the memory of helping your dad with the falling cars flashed in your mind. “Right! Yeah, Wanda was launching cars from the parking deck at my dad. A couple caught me from behind and cracked every rib in the middle of the costal groove. Not to mention the constellation of bruises on my back.”

“So, how’d you fracture your radius?” He tapped your dangling fingers with the back of his hand.

“I think uh-” You began, suddenly forgetting how the injury came about. “Maybe it was when I was holding up the passenger bridge. My arm must’ve already taken a hit earlier and the pressure was too much, so it snapped.”

“You broke your arm trying to help me?” He said in gentle realization.

“Yeah, I’d do anything to help you.” You said, almost automatically.

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “I still feel bad.” He said with a small smile. “I’m real sorry, you know.”

“Don’t be.” You waved your hand. “I would do it again if it meant you were okay.”

“Seriously?” His eyes went wide.

“Seriously.” You confirmed with a nod. “Pete, have you looked in the mirror since the fight?”

“No, why?” His eyebrows scrunched.

“You have a black eye.” You said as if it was obvious. “Either from Steve smacking you with the shield or when Lang took you out mid-swing. Which I tried to warn you about, by the way.”

“Jeez, I didn’t even notice.” He said in shock, now using his phone as a mirror.

“Well, look at you. Spidey hangs with the big boys and comes back with a shiner.” You teased.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Spidey.”

You tilted your head to replace the shrug you would’ve done. “Well, calling you Spiderman is a mouthful when you’re in the middle of a fight. I didn’t wanna call you Peter cause then everyone would’ve heard and known who you were. And I know that your identity is important to you and you’d like to keep it a secret. So I just kinda went with Spidey… Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “It’s perfectly fine. I kinda like it, actually.”

“Good.” You smiled back. “Cause otherwise this could’ve been very awkward.”

“You also called me Petey a few minutes ago.” He said slowly. “What’s that about?”

“Just a cute nickname. I call you Peter all the time and I’m sure Pete is played out. I thought I’d add something new is all.” You said simply. “I don’t know, I like it.”

“What am I gonna call you then?” He joked with a playful smile.

It was in that expression that you realized something. You and Peter were so much alike, more so than you had initially realized. You knew you and Peter had a connection. Anyone with eyeballs could see that much. But exactly how alike you were, that was unprecedented, even from what you had known before even meeting Peter. You knew he was smart, kind of quiet but kind, funny when he wanted to be, and all around good to get along with. Liz had gotten his personality dead on with that, which led you to wondering what the relationship really was like between him and Liz. But despite that random thought, you started to wonder if you liked Peter.

You paused for a moment. “Y/N/N.” You said with finality.

“Y/N/N?”

“My dad started calling me that a few years ago. It’s mainly reserved for family but I kinda like the way it sounds when you say it.” You winked. “I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

“The real question is if we can call each other that in public?” He tilted his head to add emphasis to his question.

“Ah, now we’re in a pickle. My dad might not be the biggest fan of you calling me Y/N/N. Not yet at least.”

“Yet?” His eyes went wide. “Does this mean I’m an Avenger?”

“Not at all.” You laughed. “But it does mean that I want you to stick around. You make me laugh. I like that about you.”

“So I can call you Y/N/N, just not in front of Mr. Stark.” He confirmed, not wanting to acknowledge the blush that lit up his cheeks. “You can call me Petey whenever. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Even in front of your friends?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Maybe not in front of Flash.” He shook his head with a nervous chuckle. “He gives me enough shit as is.”

“A bully?” You asked carefully, to which he hesitantly nodded, seemingly embarrassed of the fact that he had a bully. “Jeez, how lame is this kid that he has to bully you? What kind of crap does he pull?”

“He’s just annoying.” Peter tried to play it off. “He calls me Penis Parker all the time. Tries to make fun of me for not having a girlfriend and stuff like that. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Maybe he’s scared your dick will be bigger than his. He thinks if he jokes about it, it’ll make him feel better.” You joked casually, momentarily forgetting who you were talking to. Peter didn’t seem like the kid you could joke like that around so you paused, weighing his response. To your surprise he laughed. And he laughed hard.

“I never thought about that.” He managed through his laughter. “That’s probably it.”

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend, Petey?” You asked, genuinely curious. Peter seemed like absolute boyfriend material. How could he be single? “In the few times we’ve talked and spent time together, I’ve enjoyed it more than I’ve probably enjoyed hanging out with anyone.”

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He countered, attempting a playful tone but only giving off nervousness. It was almost as if he was afraid you’d say you did have a boyfriend. But Peter didn’t like you like that. At least, Peter didn’t think he did. But to his credit, he hadn’t brought himself to figure that part out yet. “You’re really great, Y/N/N.”

“Thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t know, I guess no one is brave enough to shoot their shot on Iron Man’s daughter. It can be kind of intimidating, I guess.”

“You don’t intimidate me.” He said softly.

“Well, I would hope not.” You chuckled. “You know, I like you. I’m glad we met.”

“Yeah, me too.” More than he cared to admit. More than he really could admit.

Peter knew that neither of you really knew each other. He knew the persona you presented the media. The genius, billionaire, flirty, philanthropist. You were just like your dad, and while he loved and admired that side of you, he somehow knew there was something more to you. Talking to you in the few days he could, he saw a different Y/N peaking through. A vulnerable, teenage Y/N. He saw a different light in your eyes, a different glee to your smiles, more heart to your laugh. He couldn’t help but hope that he was the reason for this brighter personality you were showing to him.

Feeling rather uncomfortable in the jet’s seats, you awkwardly managed to get yourself down to the floor. Ignoring Peter’s questions and protests, you scooted next to him. You leaned against him, keeping your arm between your ribs and his body. Your head rested neatly on his shoulder and Peter carefully folded his hands in his lap.

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter said carefully. You were already losing yourself to sleep so you mumbled a ‘Yes, Petey?’ that only he would be able to understand. He cleared his throat and tapped your hand gently. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to sleep. My body’s exhausted.” You yawned, shifting slightly and snuggling closer to him. You knew you shouldn’t be that close to Peter. The only logical part of your brain was telling you to go into the chair, recline it, and fall asleep there. A different part was telling you not to sleep with a concussion. But the loudest part was telling you that Peter was the best pillow option at the moment and he was nice and warm. “So as much as I like hearing your voice, please be quiet.”

“You like my voice?” He asked, a hint of pride lacing his amused tone. He wondered how much of this you would remember when you were well-rested. “Maybe you shouldn’t sleep with a concussion?”

“Too late.” You murmured, letting that last syllable slip before falling asleep fully.

Peter was tempted to sleep on the flight home. He wanted to gently lay you down and just lay beside you, but he liked the feeling of your head on his shoulder. The sound of your steady breathing seemed to calm his own nerves. You shifted often and he assumed it was because it was uncomfortable on your ribs. Acting on nothing but a hunch, he carefully unzipped his hoodie and bunched it up. He used it as a pillow for your ribs as he gently laid you in his lap.

Peter was in complete awe of your gentle beauty. He always thought you were pretty, even before he met you. You were a Stark, for crying out loud! Any boy your age that didn’t have a crush on you was insane. But seeing you sleeping, a small smile on your lips, curled up in Peter’s lap. It made his heart soar.

When Happy came to tell you two you were landing, he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked to Peter for an explanation, but the best Peter could offer was a cheeky grin and a shrug. Even he couldn’t explain what had happened.

“Wake her up.” Happy finally said. “Gently! I’ll be in the car.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Peter said softly, shaking your shoulder gently. You groaned in response, not waking from your sleep. “Y/N, we landed. Come on.”

“I don’t wanna.” You complained, sleep making your words sound more like a pout.

“Come on, please.” Peter urged.

“Nooo.” You mumbled.

“For me?” He tried, reaching out and holding your hand in his. If anyone had asked him where the confidence to do that came from, he wouldn’t be able to tell them. He stared at his own actions in shock, even more amazed when you lazily laced your fingers together. He hadn’t even realized you had rolled to your back to look at him.

“Anything for you, Petey.” You said. Your tone was bordering sultry, but Peter heard it gently. Honestly. “Now help me up before Happy tattles on us.” You said, using your free hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. You wondered how you ended up in Peter’s lap, holding his hand. But you weren’t too concerned about the how. You were just excited that it had even happened.

You had had flings before. A jock from random high schools here or there. Hot, young billionaires that wanted to get in good with you to try to get a Stark Industries deal for their parents. Late night hookups at parties. But no one made you feel the same butterflies Peter did, and Peter wasn’t even trying to woo you. He was just naturally charming and endearing.

The car ride was tense. Neither of you really wanting to talk to each other, fearing what kind of nonsense would spill from your lips. You didn’t know what Peter was thinking, and maybe that’s what drove you so crazy. In some of your past moments with Peter, the connection was palpable. You could physically feel how you and Peter just wanted to sit, talk, hold hands, and maybe even kiss. Other times, it felt like Peter didn’t care what you did or said. But little did you know it was the complete opposite.

Peter felt like he was on the edge of his seat every time he was with you. He never knew if the next words out your mouth would make him laugh, make him blush, or make him proud. You were the first person to really see him, all sides of him. You knew Peter and you knew Spiderman, but you treated them as one and the same. You didn’t prioritize one persona over the other. He knew you to be honest, light-hearted, `generous. But also he knew you to be strong, confident, and truly remarkable.

“What are you gonna tell May about your eye?” You asked as the car stopped in front of his apartment building. He looked up at his floor and then back to you.

“I’ll probably just say some other guy punched me. It won’t last long.” He shrugged.

“Happy, can you get the case out the trunk?” You leaned forward to ask Happy. “I wanna have a few words with Peter.”

“Yeah, sure.” He said with a tight smile. “Want me to carry it to his apartment too?” He added sarcastically.

“If it’s no trouble.” You smiled with the same sarcasm.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Peter said quickly. “I can carry it up.”

“See, that’s thoughtful.” Happy said, gesturing to Peter. You stuck your tongue out in response, to which Happy rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

“Petey?” You said once Happy’s door was shut.

“Yeah?”

“Want me to walk up with you?” You offered.

“No, it’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to put more stress on your ankle than you need to.”

“It’s no trouble, really.” You smiled kindly.

“You wanted Happy to get out so you could offer me company upstairs?” Peter chuckled.

“No, actually.” You laughed softly. “We need a story about what you did this weekend, your internship with Stark Industries.”

“We can talk about it on the way up.” He shrugged. “I can carry you on my back if you want.”

“What a gentleman.” You teased. “I’ll be alright. Happy has crutches for me in the trunk. Even though I’ll probably only need one.”

You both got out of the car, Peter taking his case and you taking one crutch. Happy said he would wait in the car, and for you not to take too long. He reminded you that your mom was waiting and so were your medications.

You and Peter managed to make it to his apartment, after what seemed like an eternity hopping up the stairs. You knew it was going to be a struggle, but you hadn’t expected it to be that hard. Peter stayed behind you, keeping close in case you missed a step or your foot slipped. You had even considered taking him up on that offer of carrying you but you powered through. You wondered if it would be easier to get downstairs later.

“Welcome home!” May exclaimed when you and Peter walked in. “Oh, and Y/N? It’s good to see you again.”

“Hi, May.” You smiled widely. “How have you been?”

“Well, who doesn’t love a quiet, relaxing weekend? Although, I am glad that Peter is back.” She smiled, tousling his hair. “Oh my god, your eye! What happened? Who hit you?”

“Just some guy.” Peter tried to shrug it off but May had already ran and gotten him an ice pack. Peter fiddled with the web shooters around his wrist. “So itchy.”

“Leave it alone.” You smacked his hand gently.

“What’s some guy’s name?” May yelled from the freezer.

“Uh-“ Peter hesitated. “Steve.” He shrugged to you, where you only shook your head in amusement.

“Steve?” She shouted. “From 12C? With the overbite?”

Peter played with the bracelet, pressing the small button that flashed the Spiderman logo you had programmed. He let out a breathy chuckle, staring at the light with an amazed smile.

“No, no, no. You don’t know him. He’s from Brooklyn.” He answered quickly, staring in awe at the bright red light.

You had to hold back a laugh. You grabbed his wrist quickly, shutting off the light and pushing his hand down as May came back into the room, ice pack in hand.

“Well, hope you got a few good licks in.” She said with a sigh.

“Yeah, got quite a few in, actually.” He said proudly.

“That would’ve been something to see, I bet.” You joked.

“And you.” May turned her attention back to you. “What happened to you? Did Steve from Brooklyn get you too?” She joked.

“Actually, I was training with Ms. Romanoff yesterday. Her and I took it a tad too far.” You waved your hand dismissively. “Happens all the time. Perks of being an Avenger.”

“Well, as long as you’re alright.” She placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “How was the weekend? You have fun, Pete?”

“Yeah, it was cool. The facility was awesome!” Peter smiled widely.

“It was really cool to have company my own age.” You nudged Peter slightly. May’s jaw dropped slightly before giving a knowing smile. “We got Peter set up in our system, set up a profile with F.R.I.D.A.Y., and introduced him to some of the other Avengers.”

“Sounds fun.” She nodded to Peter.

“Well, I should head out. I just wanted to make sure Peter got in safe, and of course say hi to you.” You smiled before May interrupted.

“So soon? Have you eaten dinner? You could always stay, if you’d like.” May offered sweetly.

“I’d love to but Mom has dinner ready at home.” You nodded slightly. “I appreciate the offer though. Rain check?”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Y/N.”

“Thanks, May.” You turned to Peter. “I’ll be in touch about when we’ll need you again. Most of your work you can do from home, unless you really just want to be at the facilities. Obviously, my dad wants you to keep your grades and extracurriculars up. You have my number if you need anything, or have any questions.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter nodded quickly.

“Call me, if you ever need anything.” You smiled softly.

“Anything?” His tone was playful, with a hint of disbelief in it. He doubted that he could call you at two in the morning just to talk about his new Lego set or a Star Wars theory he came up with. But he also knew he could call you after school if he wanted to talk.

“Anything for you, Petey.” You said quietly and you pulled him in for a gentle hug. He was careful to not squeeze you too hard, mindful of your tender midsection. “Talk to you soon.”

“Yeah, talk to you soon, Y/N/N.”

And so it begins. You realized as you made your way down the stairs and back to the car. There’s officially a small crush on Peter Parker. Dad’s definitely gonna throw a fit when he realizes he was right all along.

[dyde21]

Rescue

I know this isn’t the marchingband!AU fic you’re all waiting for, but I honestly got really inspired and wanted to indulge myself in a short story for my OC’s. It’s cute, and Ashe is usually the badass one in most of my story so letting Tyler play the hero for a bit is fun. Please check it out if you have a moment!

XxXxXxXxX

“Don’t be scared girl, I’m sure they’ll bring the reli-”

“I’m not scared.” Ashe interrupted, rolling her eyes. She shifted her arms, feeling the handcuffs adjust and strain.

She looked around the room. There were three people guarding her at the moment. The main guy who had snuck up on them, and two other guards who were on either side, bored but keeping watch. 

“Tough one, I see.” He muttered. “Whatever. If they’re smart they’ll make the deal without an issue and no one needs to get hurt.”

Ashe laughed despite herself. “We’re a little past that point. You guys already made three big mistakes.���

He stepped closer to her, his eyes narrowing as glared at her. “I’m starting to think you don’t understand the situation you’re in.” He offered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “The only reason you’re still alive is because you’re more useful to us alive.”

Ashe raised an eyebrow. “I understand things perfectly. I’m also alive because you know if you harmed or killed me, my sisters would burn this place to the ground, after burying you alive.” Her voice was even, her gaze piercing as she dared him to deny it. 

He just set his jaw, shrugging his shoulders. “Your death would be a pain the ass, I’ll admit. But they know we aren’t joking around. It’s just business. We’ll get the relic and you’ll be on your way.”

Ashe just sighed. “There’s no chance you’re getting the relic. I honestly doubt you’ll even walk away from this, since you made three mistakes after all.”

Her captor crossed his arms. “I did? Care to let me know what I did wrong?”

Flicking her head to the side to get her bangs out of her face, she smirked at him. “Sure.”

“One, you’ve managed to piss off my almost annoyingly calm boyfriend. He has a bit of a temper, and messing with me is honestly one of the stupidest things you can do around him.”

He scoffed at her. “LIke I’m afraid of your little boyfriend.”

Ashe laughed darkly. “Underestimating him isn’t a good idea.”

As if on cue, there was a faint rumbling in the distance, causing some stray dust to fall from the ceiling. Everyone in the room looked up at it. 

The guy in charge turned to one of the other guards. “Go check things out.” He barked out the order, as the guy ran off to check on things.

THis just caused Ashe to laugh. “The second mistake you made was telling them where you were. You saved them the trouble of having to find me, hoping for the exchange. You brought hell right to your doorstep.”

“Shut up!” He snapped, pulling out a walkie talkie, but he couldn’t get a response aside from the sound of yelling and fighting on the other end. 

Ashe could make out the familiar sound of ice shattering as she felt a flurry in her heart. She knew Tyler would come for her. She had gone through hell to save him once, and she had no doubt in her heart that he would do the same. 

The rumbles continued, getting closer and closer each time.

“You better hope he doesn’t reach us, or both of you are dead.” The man barked, drawing his sword.

Ashe just started humming to herself as she flexed her wrists again. 

“Frosty the snowman, was a very jolly soul…” She began to sing ominously as the crashes drew nearer and nearer. 

Glancing down, she could see her breath now as the temperature of the area continued to plummet rapidly. 

The other guard in the room trained his bow on the door and Ashe rolled her eyes. LIke that was going to stop him. 

“The third mistake you made was separating us. There is nothing in this world that can keep us apart.”

She finished.

“Shut up!” He roared as he stormed over to her, lifting her out of the chair and holding her in front of him, a knife at her throat. 

She tensed up slightly, but continued to watch the door. “Come on…” She muttered.

The rumbling stopped and for a few moments the entire building fell eerily silent. 

“Wha-”

A second later the door exploded open as a wall of icy mist exploded into the room, obscuring vision. 

Ashe flinched as she felt a familiar rush of cold air, the sound of ice rapidly expanding and another crash. 

When the mist faded, both sides of the room had been frozen, the man with the bow knocked against the wall out cold and his legs frozen in place.

Tyler was standing in the doorway, sword and shield drawn as he stared in the room. His look was downright murderous, until they met hers and she saw relief flood through them. 

He didn’t vocalize the words, but his mouth formed the words “I love you.”

“Let her go.”

He offered one warning to her captor. 

“Like hell I will.”

Tyler took a step forward. “The twins are here too, you’re lucky I got here first. If you want to make it out of here alive, drop her now.”

The man seemed to pause for a moment. 

Ashe just rolled her eyes. “At least I don’t need to wait for you guys to get here anymore.”

With two sharp movements of her arms, the hyper heated metal chain of the cuffs snapped in two as easily as her hands shot up, grabbing the knife and twisting his wrist with a sickening crack, making him drop it, before she dove to the side.

A second later another wave of ice crashed against her previous captor, sending him crashing against the back wall, before ice crept up him and froze him to the wall completely.

“Thanks for the hel-” She was cut off as she was suddenly pressed against Tyler’s chest as he wrapped her in a bear hug.

She just smiled, returning the hug.

“You’re safe.” His words were soft, and Ashe was pretty sure he wasn’t even talking to her. 

“I knew you’d come. I wasn’t worried.”

“I was.”

Looking up, she saw him looking down at her, his brow furrowed in that way she found both cute and worrying. Reaching up, she smoothed it out with her thumb. “We’re together.” She offered, before kissing him. 

He returned the kiss for a moment before he broke away, turning towards the man recovering against the wall, still frozen in place.

Ashe felt another rush of cold air as a long cold spear of ice formed in her boyfriend’s hand. He took a step towards the man. He was quiet, but the temperature in the mostly frozen room was still plummeting even lower. Tyler’s rage was the polar opposite of hers, it was cold and direct. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around his wrist, willing her hand to warm up as steam began to escape from their grasp. 

Slowly the ice spear bean to melt around where he held it as she slid her hand lower, melting the middle of it causing it to shatter and fall to the ground as she intertwined her hands with his. “Hey, relax. He’s not worth it. He was rather polite as far as hostage takers went.” She said, gently tugging him away from the room. She wasn’t about to let Tyler do something he’d regret later. 

“Let’s just go, please.” She said.

He glanced at her, looked back at the man for a second, before sighing, his shoulders finally relaxing for the first time since she saw him. She knew it was over. 

“Okay.” He said after a moment. “Let’s go.” He said, squeezing her hand a little. “But…”

He turned, dropping her hand for a moment as another spear formed in it. She just watched with an eyebrow raised, knowing him well enough to know what he was probably thinking. 

With a rather impressive throw, the ice spear launched towards the man, stabbing the wall next to his head and slowly starting to freeze, just inches from his face. 

“Don’t ever bother us again.” He threatened.

A second later a flaming arrow impaled the wall on the other side of his head. “Next time, I won’t play nicely.” She warned.

Tyler looked over at her, smirking at her. “You’re hot when you’re all threatening.”

Laughing, Ashe let her bow dissipate again as she messed up his hair. “And you have horrible timing for flirting. Let’s go before Ali breaks the entire building.”

The man took a deep breath, his eyes closed as he realized he wasn’t actually about to die.

As they walked out of the building, Ashe glanced around. She saw various walls busted open, and a solid layer of ice practically covered everything.

“You kinda overdid it.” She said with a whistle of appreciation. Her boyfriend really was getting stronger.

He shrugged. “I was mad. Besides, you literally blew up a building so I don’t want to hear it from you.”

She blushed, realizing he wasn’t wrong. She had been a little… unstable during that period. Still, now they were together again. As they were meant to be. “Date night?”

“Date night.” Tyler affirmed as the twins ran up to give Ashe a hug.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! Sassy Ashe is super fun for me to write. Plus, like I said, Ashe is not usually a “damsel in distress”. Usually the opposite actually, so it was fun to experiment with the other side of things. To any of you who actually read it, thank you! I appreciate it so much and as always feel free to ask questions or give prompts for my OC’s. They mean everything to me. More PJO stuff soon!

[wait-im-an-adult-now]

The Day We Met

So I got so much positive feedback from the one-shot The Day We Met that I made another chapter/one-shot that follows it. If you want to read the first one to understand the weird way they met you can but this can be read on its own. Credit again, of course, goes to @booabug for the idea. 

Princesses

Summary: “So…” Marinette started awkwardly “Is princess your go-to nickname for me now?” She laughed nervously fiddling with her fingers. Ok, she’s joking. That’s a good sign, right? Maybe I haven’t screwed up everything yet? “Haha, well it was a pretty strong first impression but I can stop if you want?” he rubbed the back of his neck. “As long as I’m not the damsel in distress type of princess I guess it’s kinda...cute” She looked down shyly. “Oh, of course not! I see you as more of a Tiana or Mulan definitely.” Adrien hastily explained.

Finals week~

“Hello?” the little bell Adrien installed ringed as Marinette stepped into the small shop and placed her black coat on the coat rack as she had done the last three times she had come.

Oh my kwami, she’s not tired of me yet. Ok, be cool Adrien. You can do that right?

“Oh, Marinette glad am I-uh I mean I’m glad you’re here.” He chuckled nervously. “Did you stay up studying for that English test?

Smooth Adrien smooth.

Today she looked a bit more composed than last week. She wore a white sweater that said ‘motivated by cats and caffeine’ in cursive black writing, black leggings, and boots. Her hair was up again only this time the bun was held up by a pencil.

“Yep, I don’t understand why I need to know English as a fashion major” She yawned “anyway I brought back your umbrella since I keep forgetting” She held up a black umbrella.

Plagg ran up to her meowing excitedly.

“Don't get me wrong I love your company but you didn’t have to drop it off so soon especially during finals week.” He gave an empathetic smile.

She picked up Plagg “I had to come back to cuddle with this cutie anyway.” She hugged him squishing her face to his.

He sighed I wish that was me

“Is that still ok?” She asked

“Oh,” He snapped back to reality “uh yeah of course!”

She smiled and went to sit on the small sofa bring Plagg with her. Adrien stood still.

Would it be super awkward to sit and talk to her? It’s working hours but there’s no one here yet maybe I can just hang out? No, it’ll seem weird that I take a break just when she gets here. She’s not even here for me, she’s here for Plagg. Ughh, make a decision Adrien, you probably look like an idiot just standing there.

Adrien sighed and went to the back and grabbed a few books.

Work it is then

He grabbed the wheeled ladder and brought it to section C trying to stabilize it as he climbed higher with the heavy books.

Marinette giggled at Plagg and from Adrien’s position he could just see as Plagg had jumped off the couch and was trying to get back on with little luck. He smiled leaning a little to see her face light up when Plag finally got up.

The wheels wobbled a little as he put more of his weight on the right side then Adrien’s luck ran out. Adrien lost his balance and grabbed the shelf for stability however that only caused the books to fall as he did while letting out a high pitched yelp.

Oww, oww, oww kwami that’s so embarrassing. I hope Marinette didn’t hear or see that.

“Oh my kwami, Adrien are you ok?” a blurry figure asked.

He made double finger guns “totally”

Finger guns?! That’s it, I’m officially the lamest person in the world. Just end it all now

“You sure? That looked like it hurt a lot” She extended her hand to help him up.

Dazed he answered, “How could I not be when there’s a beautiful princess here that cares about me?” Adrien gently pressed a kiss on the back of her hand.

His eyes widened realizing what he just said and got up quickly. “I um, I’m going to um going to uh get a cart for these instead. But um yeah thanks I gotta go.”

He nearly ran to the back room not that he needed to rush as Marinette was too busy overheating where he left her.

Wtf did you just do?! Oh, my kwami! I should be banned from watching cheesy romantic movies before going to sleep. No! I should be banned from watching cheesy movies for the rest of my life after that craziness. Holy cr- I mean what were you thinking?! That was so creepy. I need to just move to China or something. Yeah, I’m pretty fluent in Chinese I could do that. Wait! Didn’t she mention yesterday that her last name was Dupain-Cheng? She might visit China one day and then it’ll be the same problem!

He hit his head against the wall a few times until he got tired and sighed.

Ok...I guess I have to get out eventually? I’ll just never mention it and maybe she’ll forget?

He grabbed a cart and walked out of the back room as natural as he could which to be fair after modeling as a teen worked pretty well. That is until he got in front of her.

“So…” Marinette started awkwardly “Is princess your go-to nickname for me now?” She laughed nervously fiddling with her fingers.

Ok, she’s joking. That’s a good sign, right? Maybe I haven’t screwed up everything yet?

“Haha, well it was a pretty strong first impression but I can stop if you want?” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“As long as I’m not the damsel in distress type of princess I guess it’s kinda...cute” She looked down shyly.

“Oh, of course not! I see you as more of a Tiana or Mulan definitely.” Adrien hastily explained.

“I get Mulan because most people go for that but why Tiana?” she smiled thankfully it didn't seem too forced or awkward.

“I could write a whole essay over how much you and Tiana are alike. Like you both have a clear goal in mind and will work towards it the right way no matter hard it is and your both kind to others like unnecessarily so. Like last time that the kid accidentally dropped a whole bunch of books you consoled him telling him it’s ok and helped him pick everything up.” Adrien's eyes lit up with so much enthusiasm and warmth. “You won’t take laziness and complacency and I know I already said it but honestly you know how to be realistic yet still have those huge dreams that you definitely deserve so you take things in little steps and work ahead to make it a reality and that’s super inspiring and-”

The sound on Adrien’s words was drowned out by her ears burning.

“Oh my kwami, Adrien stop!” She laughed her face beet red.

“Sorry it’s true though” he smiled

She smiled back but couldn’t maintain the eye contact and looked at the floor.

Dammit, Adrien, you overdid it and we barely got over the hand kissing thing.

“...Rapunzel…” Marinette mumbled

“What?” Adrien asked.

“You would be Rapunzel.” She said louder

“Haha, the blonde hair?” Adrien joked.

“No, you’re...you’re like sunshine.” She explained as Adrien felt the temperature in his face increase “Like you always see the best in people, and are kind to everyone. You’re a huge optimist and encouraging and so curious about everyone and want to find out the best way to brighten up their day. You’re new to being independent yet you’re honestly doing better than me” She laughed softly “You’re a little naive especially for reading so much but it’s...endearing. You work hard and everyone can see it I mean you’re what 22? 23? And everyone knows this cute little shop you created is the best place to find a good book even if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Actually especially if you don’t know what you want because you don’t get impatient and you ask them what they like to help them find a book they’ll love. And I know that they do because they come back to thank you.”

Adrien dramatically placed his hand on heart “No more, mercy, please. Oh, my kwami princess you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

She rolled her eyes “Nevermind you might be too dramatic for Rapunzel.”

They both looked at each other smiling for a few more seconds before bursting in laughter and it occurred to them that maybe that's how it was going to go with them as another silence fell over them. But it wasn’t awkward anymore it was kinda nice actually.

As Marinette went back to Plagg and Adrien cleaned up his mess the same thought repeated in their minds in sync It’s too late, I’m too far gone

[jasonfry]

Author’s Notes: The Secret Academy, Pt. 2

WARNING: These notes will completely spoil Servants of the Empire: The Secret Academy. Haven’t read it? Stop and go here.

(Go here for notes for Edge of the Galaxy, here for Rebel in the Ranks and here for Imperial Justice. And here’s Pt. 1 of The Secret Academy. )

All right! It’s our last go-round for Servants of the Empire author’s notes. Thanks to everybody who’s followed along this far – I’ve had a blast writing these notes and hope they’ve been useful, whether you’re a budding author or an interested reader.

Part 2: Merei

At the end of Imperial Justice, Merei Spanjaf escaped her service to the crime boss Yahenna Laxo and her mother Jessa’s investigation of her intrusion into the Imperial data network. Yet Merei then immediately used her forged credentials to resume her snooping, discovering that Zare Leonis was sent to Arkanis at the Inquisitor’s orders.

I did that in Imperial Justice so the reader would go into The Secret Academy worrying about Zare and suspecting that Merei wouldn’t be able to leave well enough alone – in Godfather-style, she thinks she’s out but they pull her back in.

What pulls her back in is her determination to save Holshef, an elderly poet endangered by Laxo’s demise. She’s worried about Holshef himself, but also frustrated by her inability to help Zare and guilt-ridden about Laxo’s death. Holshef becomes her way of turning that frustration and guilt into something positive.

Originally Holshef’s rescue had more moving parts: Merei enlisted his daughter to help and played a game of cat and mouse with the bounty hunter trying to apprehend him. But I realized I didn’t have room to weave another strand into the plot. In fact, I was worried I didn’t have enough room to do everything necessary to wrap up book and series properly. So Holshef’s daughter got pared down to a quick reference and the bounty hunter was reduced to a briefly glimpsed antagonist. 

I had to economize elsewhere too, sometimes to a fault – I agree with reviewers who found the last two sections of The Secret Academy a little rushed. This book taught me that while wrapping up a series is easier than constructing a middle chapter, the little grace notes needed for a satisfying ending require more words than you think. Live and learn. 

One dynamic I liked in Merei’s story was how Jessa turns cool and resourceful once Merei reveals the truth about the Empire. Rather than waste time mourning misplaced loyalties, Jessa swings into action and becomes an effective partner for her daughter. Which makes sense -- apple and tree and all that. But I wish I’d seen the dramatic possibilities earlier and played up the conflict between Jessa and Merei in Rebel in the Ranks and Imperial Justice. That would have made the payoff from Jessa’s turn more satisfying. 

An unexpected complication was how to get Holshef, the Spanjafs and the Leonises from Lothal to Garel. My original idea was that Merei would call in a favor from the Spectres via Old Jho, with Ezra insisting that his compatriots pay their debt to Zare by joining the raid on Arkanis. But at that point in the Rebels timeline the Spectres were laying low and avoiding Lothal. I could use them for the raid, but not the rescue.

Plan B was using Lando Calrissian, but I hated the idea – Lando had played no role in the series and I felt a cameo would distract readers and slam the story to a halt. At that point I needed readers to be biting their nails, not going, “Hey neat it’s Lando!”

Plan C was using Old Jho himself, and I disliked that idea too. But I warmed to it out of necessity since there was no Plan D. At least I liked the character – his trolling the Imperials in “Idiot’s Array” was pretty funny – and I’d already decided to pair him with Holshef as another elegiac voice for Lothal. Expanding Jho’s role from go-between to rescuer wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the end of the world, either. So I added some light comedy about whether or not his ship would fly, dropped a few The Force Awakens Easter eggs and moved on. 

Some notes on Part 2:

“Wox ho uffdon comda,” mutters a speeder truck after Merei cuts it off in traffic. That’s Bocce, derived from the Galactic Phrase Book and Travel Guide. An approximate translation would be “You go shut down now.”

Merei and Holshef talk about jogan blossoms, with the old poet musing that scent can unlock memory. This is, of course, exactly how Zare will cut through Beck’s brainwashing around 60 pages later. I’d woven the theme of scent and memory through all four books, but needed to double down on it now that I was so close to the story’s climax.

The events of Chapter 14 tie in with the Rebels episode “Call to Action.” I liked that Tarkin’s toppling the tower creates problems for the Empire that insurgents can exploit – I thought that was a realistic consequence, and one it would be natural for Jessa and Gandr to comment on.

Operation Guiding Light, the directive that Holshef ran afoul of, is another fascist strategy designed to mesh with Imperial Justice. Its directive that nostalgia should be suppressed as “a product of dissatisfaction and anger” is an homage to a line I love in Don DeLillo’s White Noise.

On a less highbrow note, Old Jho’s sorrowful note that the forests of his youth have been “turned into mines and machines” is right out of Lord of the Rings. Which makes sense, as Ithorians are basically the Legends version of Ents.

Merei’s long speech to her parents recounting everything she’s done behind their backs was meant as a bit of domestic comedy, with Jessa and Gandr staring at their daughter in disbelief as this treasonous chronicle rolls on and on. There’s a similar scene with Tycho and his family in Jupiter Pirates: The Rise of Earth, which was written at much the same time. In both books, a few readers missed the joke and complained about getting a big chunk of exposition about things they already knew. Oh well.

Something went awry with the bit about the locator in Chapter 17, or else I’ve forgotten what I was trying to do. Jessa tells Merei to leave it with Gandr, but then tells Gandr she’ll send him their location. Huh?

Some readers have asked what happened to Jix. Beats me – I assume he went to prison. An experiment I tried in Servants of the Empire was letting things be a bit messy. Merei forgets to tell Zare about Project Unity, we don’t find out what happened to Oleg or Jix, and Chiron makes a promise to Penn that he winds up unable to keep. I think a certain amount of messiness is realistic – certainly more so than having every single plot thread tied off neatly by the end of a series.

Merei stunning Leo – and Tepha’s reaction to it -- was a scene I had in mind from the very beginning of the series. It’s Merei’s Indy in the Casbah moment. Auntie Nags was supposed to then lecture Merei that it’s bad manners for guests to shoot people, but I unthinkingly used that joke in The Weapon of a Jedi and so had to drop it here. I wish I’d done the reverse – C-3PO has plenty of good lines already. 

Part 3: The Tower

This section brings everything together and so moves quickly, reuniting Zare and Merei and then Zare and Dhara, sacrificing Beck, then getting everybody off Arkanis for a pair of emotional reunions.

I worked hard on Zare’s speech, reading it out loud to myself until I thought it was right. I like it both as an emotional recitation of the journey he’s been on and a call to arms -- an indictment of the Empire that could only be made by someone who’d once believed in it.

Three books’ worth of work on scent and memory pays off with Beck’s turn, but I also brought grav-ball back as a reference point. I overdid the grav-ball references -- Zare and Beck talking about a center-striker sneak would have been enough -- but think it works. That last image of Beck’s hand with the jogan blossom clutched in it is a little cheesy, but I figured I’d earned it.

Another scene I polished obsessively was Zare’s long-awaited reunion with Dhara. I mulled including brief interludes in the series from Dhara’s point of view, but decided it was more dramatic to reveal nothing about her fate until we see her here. As for why Dhara was kidnapped, there are clues in what she tells Zare in her cell and aboard the Ghost. That’s all I’ll say for now.

Chiron’s death was another part of the endgame that I had in mind from the very beginning, complete with Dhara’s burning eyes and Zare swearing Merei to secrecy about her Force tantrum. I liked that there’s no real villain in Chiron’s demise – he follows his misguided sense of duty to the very end, Dhara acts out of self-preservation, and you can’t really blame either of them. A nice bit of tragedy, if I do say so myself. The logistics were a pain, though – I had to isolate Zare, Merei and Dhara, figure out how the auxiliary elevator came into play and then get everybody to the roof.

The scenes aboard the Ghost were reworked at the very end of the process. My editor Jen Heddle asked for a quiet scene between Zare and Dhara, which was a great call, giving them a moment that Zare had worked so hard for. As for Zare and Merei’s vow to make use of the data she’d stolen and keep fighting, it was another late addition. Once again, that’s all I’ll say for now.

Thanks so much to everyone who’s begged, cajoled or campaigned for further adventures of Zare and Merei. There are no plans that I know of, but I’d love to bring them back for another story. I want to know what became of their campaign against the Empire, where their relationship went, and if Dhara recovered from her ordeal at the Inquisitor’s hands. (And yes, I have ideas about all of those things.) But if that never happens, it’s fun to think of Zare and Merei continuing to fight the good fight, as they learned to do so capably over four books. 

Quick notes on Part 3:

The other cadets stripping Zare’s uniform and breaking his saber was borrowed from descriptions of Han Solo’s expulsion from the Imperial Academy in Han Solo at Stars’ End and the Dark Empire Sourcebook. To keep the reader from being distracted by a new uniform, I made sure the cadets wore their dress blacks in an earlier scene.

Beck mentioning that he stopped taking his medication was a quick add to reinforce the idea of the jogan perfume cutting through his brainwashing. I think little buttressing details like that are effective provided they neither stop the narrative nor give the game away.

I liked that Zare doesn’t really have a plan once he and Beck break out. Zare’s a smart kid who’s cool under fire, but he’s in a facility he knows nothing about so he’s just improvising wildly. Hey, when you’ve got a date with a firing squad any plan is better than nothing.

Where’s the rest of the Ghost crew? I left Kanan out because he would have sensed Dhara’s dark-side tantrum and started asking questions. Story Group’s Pablo Hidalgo also taught me a good trick from TV: leave out a member of an ensemble cast in case you need to explain what happened in some later project. That way you can handle the needed exposition through conversation. 

I enjoyed writing Dhara’s reunion with Tepha and Leo – after so much tension and anxiety, it was satisfying to craft a scene that was just pure love and joy. But if Servants of the Empire is ever collected into a single volume, I’m campaigning to edit out that last line. After everything the Leonises had been through, Dhara telling the rest of her family not to let go said it all.

If you enjoyed these notes and are going to Orlando for Star Wars Celebration 2017, I’m leading a Star Wars University session about writing and storytelling on Friday April 14 at 6:30 pm. Come on out! 

Thanks for coming along on the journey with me, and here’s to new adventures ahead.

[improbable-implosions]

A super cold time!

Spent a while writing some more super!mai x super!aaron. Kinda ran out of steam there at the end, but I got to a good ending point, so I think I’ll post it!

(Also, any ideas on a ship name? I think it’ll be a while before these two date)

My favorite class of the day had finally come around, and I was excited from the first question out of the teacher’s mouth.

“Can anyone tell me the most important technique or thought process when you’re doing something with thermokinetics?”

My hand shot into the air, and I was confident in my answer. “Balance is absolutely key in controlling heat or cold!”

“A good guess, Aaron, and I’d argue you’re on the right track. However, our research has shown that the most paramount thing in learning to control or use our type of abilities in particular is understanding and awareness. That is to say, you have to know what it is you’re trying to do, have a good understanding of what you’re undertaking, and know what’s going on around you, so you’re aware of what you can work with. This is clearly apparent in the clips we’re going to review today.” The teacher responded evenly.

I internally groaned as he started to fuss with the projector and pull up the video. As much as I loved this class, when the teacher incorporated video clips into it, it became a real drag. Usually, the clips were old special effects shots from TV before people had started to develop powers, and those tended to be accurate in some respects, and wildly inaccurate in others, so most of the time we couldn’t sit back and enjoy the clips, the teacher was expecting us to pore over the footage to pick out small things that wouldn’t work. And of course, it was no help to my focus that there were so few shots involving any ice control. Fire was far and away the more popular half of the spectrum, and my disdain for that powerset was pretty clear. Didn’t help that the two people on either side of me were pyrokinetics, either. While a shot of the human torch blasting himself across the skies rolled, and the teacher began to lecture about how this would be an “impractical at best” use of one’s powers, my thoughts drifted to the redheaded girl I had met the other day. Sure, she was super strong, and yeah, that could be pretty useful, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. It wasn’t even her looks, though those were nothing to sneeze at! No, what got her stuck in my mind was the way she acted, or more appropriately, the way I had reacted to her. I was all over the place, swinging from 0 to word vomitingly nervous in merely a moment! Heck, then I spoke so quickly, she probably thought my power was being super emotional. I’d have to catch up with her after class to explain myself a little bit, her and that pink haired girl, Hana, seemed like interesting people to hang around.

The teacher cleared his throat, startling me from my reverie. “Glad to see you back on our planet, mister Nesterson. Now, if you could tell us what’s wrong with this picture?” He gestured broadly to the freezeframe projected on the wall, and I spluttered nervously. I recognized the shot, (a moment from The Flash where Killer Frost was throwing an icicle at an enemy) but I never saw much wrong with their effects!

“U..uh..” I stammered further, frost spreading from my outstretched hands onto my desk, painting a portrait of Mai.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, and quipped, “Well, since you’ve frozen up, I’ll tell you.” He smirked as if to enjoy his pun for a moment, and continued, “Her form is all wrong, forcing the water in the air to solidify while also moving it toward your target. This can, for one thing, throw off your aim like you wouldn’t believe, as the forces of the water vapor rushing in from elsewhere in the air wreak havoc on the trajectory, but this isn’t a bad choice just thanks to that, either. Any ideas why, everyone?”

He waited for a response from the class, and a timid hand shot up, but I didn’t catch their answer, noticing the small picture that had formed on my desk. I flushed a bit, moving to hide the beaming smile, and just as the fire-user next to me leaned over as if to tease me about it, the bell went off.

“Phew, didn’t want to have to explain that to sparky over there!” I thought, tossing my books in my backpack and hurrying out of the classroom, glad that I didn’t have any classes left in the day. Now, where could I find Mai..? I didn’t know anything about how the super-strength track worked, and I didn’t have any friends in that area, either! I started to mumble as my walk slowed mid-hallway, wondering how I was going to meet up with the girl, when I was bowled over by someone who seemed to be in quite a hurry. Arms pinwheeling, I slid back a ways, my shoes icing over to make me slide about as fast as the girl who had hit me was going, and I wound up a couple feet back when I finally came to a stop, two lines of ice clearly marking my path down the hallway. Luckily, I hadn’t dropped anything in the accident, but unluckily, I could see I had frozen the poor girl’s hair in an array of spikes that would have made a punk rocker jealous! Slipping and sliding on the ice I had made, I worked my way back to the girl, apologizing profusely, but the words died on my lips as I noticed who I’d given frosted tips. It was Mai, and she looked.. Somewhere between fuming and startled?

“What the heck, dude? I look like a pufferfish! What was that for?” Mai growled at me, fists clenching a bit.

I stepped back warily, the bruise from her joking slug on the arm from yesterday twinging as if to remind me that I had no place getting into a fight with such a heavy hitter. “S-sorry, you kinda startled me! H-Hey, at least you’re rocking that look?” I stammered, trying to make light of my blunder. “I wouldn’t try to undo those spikes, I’m not sure how hair reacts when it gets frozen.. It could shatter or something, especially with your strength. I can try to unfreeze it for you?”

Mai sighed through her teeth, then put on a smile, as if to say, “There’s no reason for me to get all salty about this!”. My heart melted a little.. Unlike her hair.

“Tell ya what!” Mai chimed happily, “You unfreeze my hair, and meet me in the gym to spar later, and no hard feelings!”

I blinked, startled, as a chorus of Oooos rose around me. It wasn’t often a challenge like this was issued, even among friends. Despite not knowing the first thing about fighting someone like Mai with my power, I couldn’t just decline! “O-okay, can I get your phone number s-so we can work out details?” I stammered out, tugging my phone from my pocket and giving it a (pretty showy) flip as I handed it to her. I could practically hear the people around us roll their eyes as she typed her number into my phone. They probably thought we were just going to have a sappy little spat not worth watching at this point.. And as much as I would have enjoyed that, (would have been great to try some new techniques I’d been tinkering with) the glint of vengefulness in Mai’s eyes as she handed back the phone let me know I had a pretty intense fight on my hands. My breath out was punctuated by steam, my nerves apparent from the bubble of cold surrounding my body.

“See ya later, frosty!~” Mai said smugly, flipping her now defrosted hair as she strolled away confidently.

I sat in my dorm a short while later, staring at my phone’s screen in the darkened room. The contact name read 💪Mai Sasake 💪. I smiled softly at this, and fired off a text.

So, you still feeling up to that sparring match, or do you have cold feet? :P

Hey now, don’t muscle me out on the pun market! Meet me on the soccer field in 5 minutes, and good luck! You’ll need it ;)

I let out a choked sound. Five minutes was barely enough time to get to the soccer field, it was all the way across campus! Hurriedly, I grabbed a few ice packs from the freezer and shoved them in my pockets. I had an idea to keep this from being a huge spectacle, but I was absolutely going to need more cold than I had on hand if I was going to pull that off. As I rushed toward the soccer field, I saw the size of our audience, and I hoped that my harebrained scheme would work. The last thing I needed was the whole school breathing down my neck for getting into a fight, with someone who could so easily wreck me, no less. I worked my way through the still growing crowd as I stepped onto the soccer field, avoiding the eyes of my opponent so I could actually speak as I raised my voice.

“Hate to be a spoilsport, Mai dear, but I’m not one for spectator sports!” I called across the field, slamming my hands into the field moments after the last word had escaped my mouth. I felt the cold flare down my arms from the packs I had stuffed into my pockets just moments before, praying that it was enough to do what I needed. My gut dropped and I gritted my teeth, levering the cold to swirl into the form I required of it. The frost crackled across the ground, small spikes cropping up as I pumped more and more energy into my task. I faintly heard gasps as the dome irised shut above us, and I heaved a sigh of relief, swaying slightly as I stood.

“The dome’s a bit thin, but I’d say it gets the job done, no?” I said casually, stepping toward Mai with a great deal of wobbling in my gait.

A smile crept across Mai’s face, and she mirrored my steps forward. “As much as I enjoy a hot guy, I don’t think that’s the best thing for you, huh?” Mai lilted, returning banter I hadn’t given her.

I paused at this, blinking as I tried to pick apart her banter woozily. “So.. you think I’m hot? And you like me?”

Mai balked for a moment at this, the confusion clear on her face at my odd comment. “I.. what?”

I tried to smile suavely, instead nearly faceplanting as I swayed further, pitching the ice packs from my pockets hurriedly. “Shoot, I really overdid it with the dome. Need some cold to refresh!” I muttered, my thermal vision flickering in and out doing my confused state no favors.

It was Mai’s turn to gasp, and her strength was on full display as she jumped swiftly to cover the (notable) distance between us, catching me like I was an old-timey lady who had swooned. Subconsciously, my body knew I needed the cold, and drew in what I had just put so much effort in putting out. The dome steamed away, and as the fog cleared, the crowd saw my prone form, frosting over in Mai’s arms.