#stop making excuses like your parent caught you drinking without permission or something.

[badolmen]

…y’all know that (((they/demons/etc.))) is an antisemetic dog whistle right? Right???

[flowercrown-bard]

I saw @little-piece-of-tamlin‘s a tiny stupid geraskier doodle which I love with all my heart bc it’s so cute and got inspired to write a little something. I hope that’s ok

fandom: the witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Modern Au

Word count: 2k

“It’ll rain today,“ Vesemir had said, “You better take a raincoat.”

Geralt should have known better than to ignore his advice. But in his defence, the sky had been completely clear when he had left the house with Ciri to take her to her friend Dara’s house.

The whole way there, she had chattered excitedly, tugging on his hand to get him to walk faster. The only time she had stopped, had been when they had come across a busker standing at the corner of a street.

Suddenly, she hadn’t been that worried about hurrying anymore and she had refused to leave until they had listened to at least five songs.

“You have to give him money, dad!” she demanded and pointed at the empty guitar case that was propped open in front of the busker.

Geralt made a grimace. He didn’t have his wallet with him – why would he, when he was just supposed to walk Ciri over to her friend and go home straight away again – but there was no doubt Ciri would argue with he told her so. And he supposed, he should probably be a good role model to her by paying the street artist, even though Geralt couldn’t help but think that his too bright smile and too happy songs were obnoxious.

The sooner he gave him some money, the sooner, he would get Ciri to continue on their way. So Geralt rummaged through his pockets, thankfully coming up with some spare change that he had forgotten was even in there and tossed it to the busker.

The pathetically few coins he had tossed were the only ones in the case. The sight almost made Geralt feel bad for the busker.

The busker’s singing didn’t stop, but his face brightened and his impossibly blue eyes lit up when he nodded to Geralt in thanks.

Geralt’s mouth went dry and he was glad that Ciri was still holding his hand, for suddenly, he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

He turned away briskly.

“Come on, Ciri, we should get going.” He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Dara’s probably waiting already.”

She pouted, but nodded. Before she turned away, she waved at the busker, who gave her a brilliant smile.

Geralt would have forgotten all about the busker, if it hadn’t started raining just as they got to Dara’s house. What started off as a light drizzle quickly turned into a downpour.

Geralt cursed silently. He didn’t even have his phone with him to call one of his brothers to come pick him up. At least Ciri had gotten inside before the worst of the rain had started.

Geralt threw a glare at the sky that had somehow turned from being bright blue to being a dark grey.

A low thunder rumbled and Geralt hurried along to get back home as quickly as he could, even though he was already soaked to the bone.

His face was set in a grim frown the entire time and he kept his eyes on the pavement before him, watching as the puddles soaked his boots.

“Hey!”

The shout made Geralt’s head snap up. His eyebrows rose in surprise without his permission, when he saw the person that had called out to him and that was now waving at him enthusiastically.

It was the busker from before, sitting beneath one of those umbrellas some cafés put up when the sun was shining too brightly.

Maybe they had forgotten to close it when the rain had started – or they didn’t care. Geralt had no idea how those things worked.

His steps faltered. Quickly, he threw a glance over his shoulder to see if the busker was waving to someone else, but Geralt was the only one on this street. At least the only one still out and about in the rain. Everyone else had fled into cafés or stores to hide from the rain.

Geralt swallowed, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, unsure what to do. He really, truly didn’t want to sit with this stranger who was still waving at him like an idiot.

But then again, the busker was sitting where he was dry while Geralt was standing in the rain unable to decide what to do, so really, who was the real idiot here?

Though inwardly he let out a sigh, knowing he was going to regret this, he walked over to the busker, sitting down on the chair opposite of him.

“Hello there, stranger. I’m Jaskier. You saw me earlier? I was the one playing the guitar.” He gestured to the case he had stowed away beneath the table to keep it safe from the rain. “I was hoping to see you again to thank you properly.” Jaskier’s smile grew so big, Geralt was wondering how it didn’t hurt his cheeks. “Guess I got really lucky that it started to rain, huh?”

Geralt scowled. “If my daughter hadn’t wanted to listen to you play for so long I would have gotten home before it started to rain.”

The busker tilted his head to the side. “Oh, if you enjoyed my singing that much, I should probably play some more, hm? As an apology for letting you get caught in the rain.”

“You really don’t –“ Geralt began, but Jaskier had already bent down to retrieve his guitar.

For a brief second, Geralt was tempted to just get up and leave again. A single glance at the rain made him reconsider and slump back in his chair.

When Jaskier began playing, Geralt had to admit that it didn’t sound terrible. If he had been in a better mood, he would have even enjoyed it, but as it was, he wasn’t very inclined to think any positive thoughts about Jaskier. It didn’t matter that his eyes crinkled at the side when he smiled while singing or that the mob of brown hair that had been so fluffy before was no plastered to his forehead in a way that made Geralt want to reach out and push it out of his eyes.

Abruptly, Geralt turned away. The avoidance of eye contact didn’t last very long. As soon as Jaskier reached the chorus of the song, Geralt’s eyes snapped back up to him.

“Why does it always rain on me?” Geralt asked incredulously. “Seriously?”

Jaskier’s tongue peeked through his lips as he winked at Geralt. “It’s fitting, isn’t it?”

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier’s fingers stilled on his guitar and he let out an overly dramatic sigh. “You’re a tougher audience than your daughter.” His eyes lit up with mischief. “But I’m sure I can find some song that you like.”

“I doubt it.”

“It that a challenge?”

Geralt didn’t answer, but he doubted Jaskier needed one anyway. The busker began to play again, giving Geralt a cheeky wink and his smile grew wider with every song that deepened Geralt’s frown.

It’s raining men.

Fool in the rain.

Raindrops keep falling on my head.

Umbrella.

Blame it on the rain.

After the third song, Geralt was ready to bang his head on the table and block his ears with his hands.

Mercifully, he was saved, when a waitress came by.

“Excuse me,” she said, looking sorry. “The other patrons have complained about your playing. And we’re not really allowed to let anyone sit here unless they buy at least one drink. So I need you to put that guitar away and buy something if you want to stay here.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s face fell and the fingers that had just been plucking the strings rubbed together in a gesture that should have probably been soothing for himself. “Of course. Sorry.”

Carefully, he put his guitar away and grabbed the menu lying on the table. Geralt should have been relieved that the playing had stopped, but the sight of Jaskier, dejected and still dripping from the rain made something in his chest twist. He pressed his lips together.

“Sorry,” he said as well and pushed his chair back, making it scratch against the ground. His skin felt icy just thinking about going back out in the rain and a small part of him felt bad leaving Jaskier alone like this. Granted, Geralt hadn’t been thinking nice things about his singing either, but it was one thing to sit there suffering in silence and another thing entirely, asking a waitress to kick Jaskier out if he didn’t stop playing.

An alarmed expression flickered over Jaskier’s face and he grabbed Geralt’s sleeve when he made to turn away.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “Didn’t you hear the thunder before? You can’t just go out there.”

Geralt shrugged, telling himself the concern of this stranger didn’t feel nice.

“Don’t have any money.”

Something shifted in Jaskier’s expression. A look of utter disbelieve and almost awe crossed his face, before he plastered on a smile that definitely didn’t made Geralt’s chest clench.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” Jaskier said lightly, tugging at his arm until he sat back down again. Geralt could have easily freed himself, but for some reason he didn’t understand, he did as Jaskier bid him. “I’ll pay for your coffee.”

Geralt stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

Jaskier shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Technically, I’m just paying you back. You did give me your money before.”

Geralt blinked. “That wasn’t nearly enough to pay for coffee.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jaskier lowered his eyes and drummed a quick little rhythm on the table. “It was nice. I could really need someone being nice to me today.”

Jaskier gave him a small smile, which Geralt returned without thinking about it. It wasn’t often that people looked at him and didn’t make assumptions. They certainly didn’t call him nice. The only people who really stuck around were his brothers and Vesemir. He was trying to do good by Ciri, but he could still hear the other parents whisper whenever he brought her to preschool. They judged him for being a single dad, for having scars that surely meant that his life was too rough to have a child in it, for having eyes that freaked out some of the kids.

Jaskier hadn’t just started smiling at him when Ciri had urged him to give him some change. His smile hadn’t faltered, despite Geralt scowling at him, despite him not responding to anything he said.

Yet, he had called Geralt over to save him from the rain. And now, even after having spent enough time with him that he must have realised that Geralt wasn’t good company, he still offered to buy him coffee as if it was nothing.

Something warm and fuzzy spread through his chest that almost chased away the cold clinging to his skin from the rain.

Geralt’s mouth was dry and he felt awkward saying it, but just this once, he took a chance. “I could pay for your coffee next time.”

“Next time?” Jaskier perked up, eyes wide.

Geralt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If you wanted to.”

“I’d love to.” Jaskier narrowed his eyes playfully and leaned forward on his elbows. “But maybe I should first know some things about the handsome man who just invited me out for coffee first.”

Geralt grunted, the corners of his lips twitching up. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, your name for starters,” Jaskier laughed. “And your favourite song. As much fun as it was trying to find out how long it would take you to tell me to stop, I would really like to know what to play to maybe make you smile again.”

Geralt blinked. “Geralt,” he said dumbly. A grin spread across his face. “And I would definitely smile if you played Here Comes the Sun when it stops to rain just to piss of those people in there some more.”

Jaskier let out a startled laugh that made Geralt’s stomach flip. It wasn’t often that people laughed at his jokes. His humour was too dry or just plainly not funny enough. But somehow, seeing Jaskier throw his head back laughing at something that wasn’t even that funny, Geralt wanted to make him laugh like that again.

When the rain finally stopped, Jaskier didn’t play Here Comes the Sun, but neither of them even noticed. They were too preoccupied talking about everything that came to mind. What started out as polite smalltalk had quickly turned more personal and Geralt was surprised to find out that he really wanted to get to know Jaskier better.

They talked about Jaskier’s struggle with not feeling good enough when it came to his music and Geralt’s struggles with being a single dad. It was surprisingly easy to open up to Jaskier, who didn’t laugh at him for his doubts, but told him how from the little he had seen of Ciri, she had seemed happy with Geralt.

When they finally left the café again and parted ways, Geralt promised to come by with Ciri again soon and listen to him play again.

--

A year later, they went to the very same café again, this time hand in hand. Almost as per tradition, Jaskier started signing again, though this time he hadn’t taken his guitar with him, far too eager to hold Geralt’s hand the whole time through, much to Geralt’s amusement, which only grew, when he recongnised the song.

You are my Sunshine.

Geralt knew Jaskier mainly did this to tease Geralt – teasing him with his songs was a habit Jaskier would probably never lose and secretly, Geralt loved it – but just as every other time, Geralt didn’t tell Jaskier to stop singing in irritation. No, by now, he had a far better way to get Jaskier to stop.

He leaned forward and seized Jaskier’s lips in a kiss, effectively swallowing the song.

“You were right,” Geralt said, when they pulled away again.

“I usually am.” Jaskier smirked and pressed another quick kiss against Geralt’s lips. “But pray tell, what exactly have I been right about?”

Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “We really did get lucky by getting caught in the rain.”

[bokutoslittlebird]

UHMMM EXCUSE ME BUT BOKUTO X ONEE-SAN IS JUST 😳🥵. I'm a different anon from the last one but omg, is it okay to ask more??? Maybe an MSBY Bokuto now or idk what if his onee-san finally gets pregnant (if you're okay with that). Thank yoy so much!

I got like four fics where the reader ends up pregnant I’m definitely fine with writing pregnancy lmao I’ve looked it up so many times I have a notebook of pregnancy symptoms and baby delivery. I do need to start writing down baby names tho bc my computer keeps asking me when I’m expecting

Mission : Corrupting Onee-san ; Bokuto, part 3

Kōtarō was a bit upset a week after the.. incident. You weren’t showing any common signs of pregnancy.

He researched it at least six different times, expecting to match something in your behavior to one of them. Each time he realized you weren’t pregnant, it was hard on you. Well, he was hard on you. Forcing his cock into you while you thrashed and tried to get him off, only to be met with the brick wall that is your little brother. He hardly even noticed you, often off in his own delusions until after he spilled his load into you. Even then, your fucked out face and overstimulated hole always had him raring to go again, this time with his focus on how good you made him feel.

With it being a month into his stay at your house, you wondered if your family would get suspicious about it. When he told you he’d be trying out for the MSBY Black Jackals, it fell into place. That’s why he was staying at your house, with the added bonus of being there if you needed anything. From someone else’s perspective, it would seem like he was a golden child with a heart of gold. In your eyes, you just saw a monster with a goal and determination to see the goal through. Kōtarō never shied from any questions your son had, either. Answering every question quickly and maturely, as if he knew the kid would ask it. He’s able to manipulate you and your son but you can’t do anything to stop him, not when he holds power over you.

Kazuki loves his uncle, his Oji-san a lot. You know he does. He’s always enjoyed visiting your parents’ house to see Kōtarō who would tell him stories, but you find he often lets his adoration for Kōtarō blind him. In his eyes, Kōtarō is a perfect human being and can do no wrong.

“Oji-san?” Kazuki’s little head pops up from under the table. You jump at his sudden appearance, especially if he came from under the table. With Kōtarō having you firmly placed on his lap, you wonder how your son would see the situation.

“Yeah, squirt?” He still smiled at Kazuki, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. Not seeing anything wrong with the way he has a steel grip on your hips and keeps rubbing his hardening cock into your clothed pussy.

“When you both go to bed, why does mommy scream?” Your eyes widen at his question, panicking. How do you answer that? He’s so young—

“Oh! Mommy has some bad nightmares, but it’s okay! I’m there to take care of her!” Kōtarō wraps his arms around your middle, warm hands sliding along your stomach. “Isn’t that right, mommy?”

“Yes, Kōtarō, it—“ your words were interrupted with a shriek, feeling Kōtarō pinch the skin on your hips.

“Mommy, are you okay?!”

“Yes, dear. I’m fine. Uh, daddy just startled me, that’s all.” With the new situation and lack of anyone else, Kōtarō wanted to fully move into the ideal family life. Including his title. Kazuki didn’t bat an eyelash, just nodding and eagerly going to play with his toys. A present from Kōtarō.

“We talked about that, nee-san,” Kōtarō’s breath tickled your ear, a warm tongue licking the shell of it. A shiver went down your spine, feeling his bulge get harder underneath you. “Kazuki needs to see me as a father figure now. Especially since he’ll have a baby brother soon,”

“What makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?”

“I have faith. Need strong boys to protect mommy while daddy’s busy at work,” the talk of you having his offspring has him raring to go, a dark cloud covering his eyes as he ruts up against you. You find yourself face down on the dinner table while Kōtarō eagerly strips off your panties and your jeans. It’s nothing for him to pull his cock out of his sweats, eagerly rubbing the mushroom tip against your folds. Even if your mind and heart don’t want it, that doesn’t stop the slick from pooling into your panties and coating your folds. Your hole is nice and wet for him, ready for his fat cock to split you open.

“Kō, we- we can’t! Zuki-“

“If you keep quiet, he won’t know,” he hisses in your ear, his hand digging into the fat of your ass. It’s a warning to be quiet. Kōtarō usually enjoys your voice, how you scream and beg when he’s filled you to the brim, but now he needs you to be quiet since you’re on the table.

Pushing his cock into you is something he’ll never get tired of. He loves the warm feeling of your cunt and how tight your walls are around him, you’re all sticky and wet, allowing him to slide right in. He doesn’t stop, not for a moment, feeling you holding back your moans as he bottoms out. Even with your hesitance, your body knows he makes you feel good. It has him slapping his hips to your ass while he cages you to the table, pressing you down with his chest. Your nails scratch the table, trying to find something to hold on to when his hands snake up under them, squeezing while he rams into you. It’s enough to squeeze his hands while he brings you to an orgasm, his balls slapping against your clit while your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

“K-Kō-chan, I-“

“I’m almost there, hold on, baby,” he whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. You don’t know whether he’s talking to you or the possibility of a child resulting in this, but you find his hips stuttering, a low groan as he stills inside you. Your walls milk him dry, another orgasm as you coat him in your own release. He doesn’t pull out, keeping still inside you while you both come down your high.

“It’s Kazuki’s bedtime. I need to tuck him in,” You break the silence, squirming as the feeling of Kōtarō’s cock in you, and his cum, has become awkward.

“I’ll do it,” he presses a kiss to your hair, removing himself from you. He’s quick to pull your panties and jeans back up, keeping his cum from mostly coming out. “After all, I gotta be a good dad, don’t I?”

With Kōtarō constantly leaving the house for practice with the Black Jackals, he leaves you alone. Taking care of Kazuki was your only chore, really. With Kōtarō earning plenty of money and you having the insurance money from your recently deceased husband and daughter, you were not financially unstable. Most of your money had gone to special pills to prevent pregnancy, making sure you had one each time after Kōtarō spilled inside you. Labeled as vitamins, you easily took them all the time in front of Kōtarō as he didn’t bat an eye. They seemed to work, suspending the pregnancy as each day you turned out and took the test, only one line popping up.

You thought you were safe.

When your vitamins went missing, you didn’t know where to turn. After the table sex and the bedtime routine, you needed those pills. Looking through each cabinet, you couldn’t find it. When you asked Kazuki, he seemed innocent enough. The only possibility was that Kōtarō had found out and taken them out. You had to wait until he returned from practice before you could confront him.

When he finally popped through the door, Kazuki went to go hug him. “Oji-san!”

“Hey, hey, hey! We talked about that, squirt,” a darkness looms in his eyes, but his smile is bright and blinding.

“Sorry, daddy. I’m not used to it,” he looks downright guilty, as if he did something wrong. Kōtarō’s big hand plops on top of Kazuki’s head.

“It’s alright. You’ll get used to it eventually, especially once you have a little brother,”

“I’m gonna have a little brother?!” Bouncing on his feet, Kazuki turned to you. The smile you sported was more of a cringe, but you nodded.

“That’s the plan. Daddy, can we talk?” Kōtarō eagerly follows you, handing a new toy to Kazuki as if he doesn’t have over 20 new toys. Kōtarō doesn’t stop in front of you, rather hugging you close to him as you feel his hardened cock rubbing against your leg. “Kōtarō we need to talk. About serious stuff.”

“If it’s about those Plan B pills, I flushed them down the toilet,”

“Wha- flushed? Those were my vitamins!”

“You aren’t taking anything that risks serious health problems if you don’t take it. Not only that, you’re not under any prescription medications. From now on,” he says, voice low and commanding. Pulling from you, you look into his eyes to see something sinister in them, as if his delusion is becoming tangible. “You’ll be taking what I give to you. No more caffeine, no more wine before bed, yes I know you drink a glass while getting ready, and no more vitamins without my permission. After all, our future is dependent on this.”

With his declaration of claiming you, officially deciding to prevent anything that could stand in his way, you felt sick as you took another test, the single line being joined by a matching one. You couldn’t hide it, you couldn’t throw it away, he’d know the truth regardless. You always showed him negative results, so the test going missing would mean he knew it was positive. Kōtarō waits on your bed — his, too, now — as you weigh your options. With shaky hands, you open the bathroom door as he perks up, his face smiling as if he knew the answer already. With his hair down and still damp from the bath, you see how attractive he is, his muscles flexing as he gets up to see the result. Showing him the plastic piece, he can’t hide his excitement.

“I’m gonna be a dad! You’re gonna be a mommy! Well, we are, but this time for reals!” He’s so excited, it’s easy to find yourself smiling with him, caught up in the excitement. When he puts you down, it’s on the bed and he’s quickly crawling to cage you in. “I say this is cause for a celebration.”

“Kōtarō, what about mom? And dad? And our sisters? They’ll find out eventually, won’t they? We’ll be disowned,” your panicked voice stops him, straddling you as his hand goes to his chin. As if he’s thinking.

“Well, lets just cut ties with them. I’m a member of one of Japan’s Division 1 volleyball teams. I make enough money for us to be stable comfortably, not to mention the money you have from insurance. That way,” he licks his lips, leaning over you again, “I can have you all to myself,”

[jinxfirebolt18902]

What are we, then? - JJ Imagine

A/N: I fell hard into a new obsession: JJ Maybanks yes it is. So, I badly wanted to write something but had literally no ideas so I took this prompt list and made a friend choose 2 random numbers. They picked: 9. “we’re not just friends and you know it”

27. “what do you mean maybe? that was a yes or no question”

So yeah. Enjoy some angst.

Words: 2.249

Pairing: JJ x female!reader

—Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me! —JJ shouted after her.

—Watch me, asshole. —she stopped her steps and half turned her body just to give him the middle finger. Her facial expression showed the rage she felt.

Angry outbursts were pretty common between them. They’d known each other since kindergarten, a couple of years before John B came to the picture. So, their relationship was stronger, deeper. They knew each other to the bones. The gang was used to their loud yet harmless fights. JJ was short-tempered, and so was she. At the end, the fact that they shouted their opinions at each other at the moment they felt it was healthier considering they always reconciled half an hour later. 

But this time something was different. An event that had happened between them a few days earlier had changed it everything, and nothing would ever be the same. Such event was unknown by the others, and maybe that’s why they were all so confused.

The thing is, for the first time, neither of them were spitting their feelings out. And oh boy it did cause a lot of misunderstandings.

She and JJ decided to shelter from Agatha at John B’s place. It was no news JJ tried to avoid his house as much as possible. She always convinced her parents of letting her go with them as JJ was considered another son and spent a lot of time at hers, and they also wanted their daughter to be a good friend to John B after his dad went missing. Once her throat burned due to her shouting at John B to get his ass out of the ocean in the middle of a hurricane she gave up and waited for them to come back. Luckily JJ found a little sense within his logic and convinced John B of getting out of the water as the storm was way too heavy.

At the Chateau, they cooked some noodles and ate between anecdotes and candles due to the lack of power. Around 3 in the morning Agatha was still blowing, a few cans of beer empty were around the coffee table, she and JJ were sprawled on the sofa bed and John B asleep in his bedroom. The pair was listening to I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing from her phone as they heard the wind and thunder outside. They’d smoked a blunt and were then absorbed in the flame of the candle in front of them.

Her pupils were dilated and she couldn’t feel his eyes on her. Or at least that’s what he thought.

—Staring is rude dude… —She voiced out loud, but softly, in a sleepy state.

He let out a short laugh and then directed his sight to the candle. —You’re so mean to me.

Now it was her turn to laugh. —Yeah, so?

He gently pushed her arm and then let his head fall on her shoulder, his blonde locks tickling her skin. She rested her head on his and closed her eyes but a moment later he looked up and set his eyes on her face, more serious this time. Her eyes locked with his.

—What? —she said in a whisper.

But he was at a loss of words, which didn’t happen often. They just got in a trance where a lot of emotions were in each pair of eyes with a classic love song in the back. At a certain moment his gaze moved down to her lips and his breath stuck in his throat. JJ was never a shy one when it came to girls. His ego, not confidence, always led situations smoothly. But for the first time in his life, he had no clue what he was doing. It’s not like they hadn’t shared alone moments like this before, they always had. The amount of trust between them had no comparison. They were totally sincere with each other, since they’d met there was not a thing they didn’t know about each other. 

JJ leaned in and stopped closing the distance just when there were 2 millimeters left to create contact. His blue orbits checked for permission with hers first. She didn’t move at all. He took that as a green light and collided his mouth with hers.

The kiss was soft, and meaningful. Yes, they had a couple of beers running through their veins, and yes also a little of weed into their systems yet they felt like time stopped. It was like the Universe was created for this and only this moment. They felt everything around them vanished. It felt right, just like when you fit the last piece of the puzzle.

The sound of a lightning striking near their location pulled them apart. They shared one more look though this one was loaded with a bit of embarrassment. The moment got kinda awkward and they dealt with it by pretending what happened did not actually happen. She turned around and he cuddled her like they always did.

The next morning John B woke up first, walking from his bedroom to the porch, catching the pair of friends peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms. He ruffled JJ’s hair asking him if he’d been outside yet only earning a groan as a response. Hours later she woke up and went home without talking to her best friend about the intimate moment they’d shared. 

A few days later they threw the kegger, there happened strike one. JJ eventually disappeared with a smokin’ hot tourist, which did not go unnoticed by her. She’d seen JJ go from a clumsy kiddo to the sex symbol boy, she’d been there through the beginning to the end of his puberty, she knew better than even bother by his multiple random hookups. Still, after the intense look he had given her before kissing her had left her somewhat overwhelmed. And the fact that they had shared such a passionate moment together days ago made her actually uncomfortable at witnessing JJ get it with some other girl. This was brand new for her, literally she had never been jealous of the blonde. Oh and, one more time, feelings were bottled up.

Strike two took place at The Wreck when the group was in for a fast food meal. They’d gone inside towards their usual table while Kie went to the kitchen. The boys were just sitting when she was approached by Tom, a pogue, with a “Hey, how have you been?” to which she replied with a genuine smile. The boy had had a crush on her since middle school. He was kinda cute, light brown hair, green eyes, a couple of freckles under his eyes and on his nose. And he was nice, a good guy really. Her mom always wanted them to date but she didn’t find the chemistry reciprocated. And JJ had secretly been relieved by that. Not because he wanted her romantically or anything like that but because he dreaded the time she’d got a boyfriend and stopped hanging out with him. Tom asked her to go surfing with him the next day and she agreed, partly because she hadn’t surfed in weeks, and partly because she had bottled her jealousy at the kegger and kind of wanted to hit it back to JJ, as she was completely aware of how JJ felt towards Tom. Through the corner of her eye she caught JJ’s irritable gesture when she accepted the invitation.

A week after the secret kiss, the gang was at John B’s hanging out. By now, the tension between the two was clear to everyone, and their friends knew an explosion was coming soon. They weren’t teasing the hell out of each other as they usually did. They weren’t sitting next to each other in the boat as they usually did. And they also were hitting each other every chance they got, like when she had smacked his head from behind in the afternoon that same day when they were at the beach and the blonde was flirting with a girl, ruining their moment. Or when she was going to the fridge to seek for a beer can and he was coming out of it and shove his elbow into her arm, earning a gasp and a scowl.

—Yo! What is your problem dude? —her voice denoted she was at the edge which only pleased the blonde even more making him smile.

Kie and John B shared a look as Pope sighed resignedly foreseeing what was coming.

—Maybe the fact that you ruined my moment today.

She scoffed and walked past him rolling her eyes. —Yeah, sure. Cause you have so much trouble slutting around with everything that walks.

—Uhhh, excuse me. Do you have a problem with it? 

Their friends sighed and walked out to the porch in order to give them space and to be honest, they were not in the mood to witness another of their fights so they rather stargaze outside while the two sorted it out.

—Oh no, be my guest bro. I’m just sayin’ why do you call me out on “ruining your moment” when you can have “your moments” whenever you want.

He smiled sarcastically and looked down at the floor before lifting up his gaze to her. —You’ve been a pain in the ass the whole week, you are the one with a problem obviously.

—I am not. I’ve been the pain in the ass? Are you sure? Cause someone else comes to my mind. —she rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly as she let herself fall on the couch and took a sip of her drink.

—You’re unbelievable.—Did you mean it?

He looked at her in confusion. —What?

—You know what. Did you mean it?

He shrugged his shoulders and looked down to hide the light blush of his cheeks. —Maybe.

Strike three, you’re out.

—Maybe? What do you mean maybe? That was a yes or no question.

—I-I don’t know —his hand went to grab his hair. —Maybe.

—Forget it. —she stood up and he freaked out.

—What? Are you in your period or something?

That’s when she stormed off the Chateau fuming.

The sound of the slammed door got the other three’s attention, turning their heads to look at the person walking away.

—Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me! —JJ shouted after her.

—Watch me, asshole. —she stopped her steps and half turned her body just to give him the middle finger. Her facial expression showed the rage she felt.

After a few minutes John B, Pope and Kiara all got up and went inside to find JJ standing in the middle of the room with a hand grabbing his hair and with the other holding a beer, looking down at an invisible point on the floor.

—What did you do? —Kie asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

JJ grimaced and sighed. —I might have said the period line… —Kie let her head fall backwards and took a deep breath. —Of course you did…

—That’s just a dick move. Anyway, what is going on between you two? You’ve been annoying all week. —John B voiced.

But he only closed his eyes and breathed out heavily.

Hours later the surfer skated all the way to her house. He threw some rocks at her window to wake her but after a few minutes nothing happened, then he noticed a shadow on the roof, next to one of the windows of the big house. He climbed up and jumped from the tree to the roof, a few feet away from her. She was hugging her knees and staring right ahead with her chin resting on her arms. There were no signs of remaining anger, just plain tiredness, and a touch of sadness. He caught that in her eyes, he knew her so well, and it made his heart sunk to know he had caused it. He cleared his throat and dried his palms on his shorts. He felt nervous and it caused his hands to sweat.

—I’m sorry.

She blinked slowly but kept her gaze set ahead. He felt ashamed by his behaviour.

—We’re not just friends and you know it. —now he did get her attention.

She just smiled and rolled her eyes changing her pose, resting her palms on the roof and leaning her core weight on them.

—What are we exactly, then..? —she was teasing him and he smiled sweetly. He nudged her and they both laughed. A second later he looked down and bit his lip deep in thought. She turned her head to look at him.

—You’re everything to me. —he said quietly, still not daring to lift his sight. —I never want to lose you. —he said with an expression of pain on his beautiful face. She furrowed her brows and hugged him. —You never will, idiot. Have I ever given up on you? —she whispered near his cheek due to the hug. His eyes filled with forbidden tears. He nodded no with his head as he didn't trust his voice. Her smile grew wider and she kissed his cheek softly. —See? I’m always there with you. Every day, every week, every year. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. —he half laughed half sobbed and immediately cleaned the tears forcefully with the back of his hand. She held him tighter and he put his head on her.

—So, I guess the answer is yes, I meant it. 

[nightfayre]

a young!qiucheng at a party prompt request for @itssomekindofheaven! thank you so much for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy!!

///

“Enough.”

There were many different ways Qiu imagined their reunion to be. Most of them involved surprise entries; a pair of motorcycle keys left on the countertop for Cheng to find in the morning, or the half-cracked bedroom door across the hall that hadn’t been opened since he left, beckoning curiosity. Others of them involved hard glares — a moment of shock (”When... did you get back?”) as well as bitterness (”Wouldn’t you like to know.”) — and perhaps a dose of silent treatment to ensure the message was well received.

But Qiu never considered either of them to be that theatric, nor that inclined to waste such time, and so none of that ever came to fruition. Instead, now, Qiu watched the effect of the command unfold before him. 

Enough. 

Cheng, kneeled before He Tian with a wet cloth that he dabbed disdainfully against the red stain on He Tian’s dress shirt, turned to look up at Qiu. His eyes caught the irritated sweep of Qiu’s gaze — widened only for a moment — and then held it.

“Enough of what?” Cheng asked, drawn. Qiu was surprised to find no bitten severity behind the words, which had increasingly become Cheng’s standard disposition over the years. Instead, he was calm, and in front of him He Tian rocked back on his heels, abashed by the salsa that had still coated his fingertips when Cheng found him — and a shattered serving bowl — in the kitchen. His older brother had made quick work of scolding him, then stiffly comforting him when He Tian began to pout, then aiding in removing the stain before the maids (or worse, father) found out. 

Qiu had watched it all happen from across the room as he feigned interest in a family head’s state of affairs. When the opportunity came, he made some lame excuse to find himself here, now, looking down on the celebration’s main attraction playing babysitter. And while regular fuck-ups on young He Tian’s behalf were never exactly surprises, tonight it made something in Qiu’s mouth go particularly sour.

“There’re others who are responsible for him tonight,” Qiu told Cheng now. “Let him be.”

He Cheng’s mouth quirked, and he turned away to dab at the stain again. “He’s my brother.”

“And it’s your birthday,” Qiu said, frowning. He jerked his head over his shoulder where small crowds littered the marble floors of the He’s dining hall, gathered in tight circles as they prodded at finger foods. “People traveled to see you.”

I’m here to see you, idiot.

“They came to see my father,” Cheng amended, flat. “Don’t get us confused.”

“Well,” Qiu said, then said nothing more, because Cheng gave him a look that warned Don’t start and, frankly, Qiu didn’t have the energy tonight. Instead, he turned to He Tian, who looked up at him with a mixed expression of fear and anxiety thinly veiled by bravery. Little lion man, Qiu often called him, and he was often reminded of the truth behind such a nickname. 

“You have other shirts, don’t you?” Qiu asked him. “In your room?”

He Tian nodded. “But father told me I wasn’t allowed to go upstairs tonight. They locked my door.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Qiu muttered. He stopped a passing servant balancing a platter of drinks, and the man bowed his head with respect. “Take He Tian with you,” Qiu ordered, “and find a house maid. He needs a new shirt. And—” a glance at Cheng, who frowned, “—don’t let Mr. He see.”

The servant looked where Cheng — broad shoulders draped in a dark, pressed suit and hair neatly slicked back — kneeled before his little brother on the kitchen tiles. It was a sight to behold. “Yes, sir,” the man said.

He Tian glanced to his brother, who eventually relented with a scowl and nodded with permission, dropping the cloth. Sheepish, He Tian followed the servant toward the nearest loitering maid, picking at the shirt stain as if that would make it go away faster.

“Don’t give me that look,” Qiu said as Cheng stood, silent but telling in the way that his lips pressed and his eyes, dark and severe, leveled on him. “You’re not his fucking parent. You have other shit to worry about.”

“This event isn’t any different than the others I’ve attended,” Cheng replied, mouth pulling at the edges. “Don’t be so damn sentimental. They’ll eat you alive for it.”

“Who? Your daddy?” Qiu scoffed. “I don’t care.”

Cheng tilted his head. “Your payroll would beg to differ.”

“I’ve just spent five months overseas for his ass. If he wants to fire me over a salsa stain, then I’ll start packing my bags.”

“Bags? Plural?” Cheng shook his head. “You could fit the shit in your room in a single backpack.”

Qiu scowled. “Sorry I don’t have the luxury to drop all my money on useless shit like you. Like cars.”

It had the intended effect. Cheng regarded him, surprised. “You already know about that?” he asked after a moment.

Qiu leaned back, the wall firm against his shoulder blades. He’d taken off his suit jacket an hour ago because he was hot, and because he was irritated watching Cheng interact with the party’s guests without ever thinking to greet Qiu, too. The thought in itself made him crave a cigarette. He still did. “Yeah, I do. Heard it from one of the guys because, apparently, you don’t know how to fucking text. Or call.”

There was a pause; a moment in which Cheng only watched him, stoic like his father but quiet in every way that wasn’t his father. Qiu suppressed the urge to reach forward and drag his fingers through Cheng’s gelled hair and fuck up every perfect strand if only to prove that Cheng was only twenty-three — no, twenty-four now — and nothing of what Mr. He tells him to be. To do. That Cheng was right: this party was for his father, even though Cheng’s name was on the invitation, but that doesn’t mean Cheng didn’t deserve more than a calculating, decisive look from all the guests he greeted. That he didn’t deserve more than going to bed after all the guests have left and the house staff cleans up their mess and his only thoughts being of tomorrow’s agenda, and his little brother’s wellbeing, and the empty chair that sat next to his father during the dinner.

God, Qiu could give him more than that.

“I’ve been busy,” Cheng told him now, his voice lowered so that Qiu knew that this was an apology, and that Cheng, in some fashion, meant it.

Qiu didn’t accept it. “Not busy enough to avoid buying another fucking Hongqi though, huh?”

Cheng exhaled, in the same way he exhaled when He Tian bothered him while he was trying to work: worn, but understanding. “I’m serious, Qiu. I was busy. And I didn’t want to distract you while you were abroad, either.”

Qiu frowned. “Distract me? With what? A single phone call just so I know you’re still alive? What the hell does distract even mean?”

“You know what it means.”

There was a pause; another servant passing them with a quiet apology even though they were the ones taking up space in the doorway. Then Cheng shifted on his feet, slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers.

“She’s a beauty,” he offered. “The Hongqi. I wanted it to be a surprise when you came back. But she’s in the garage, just polished. Want to go see her after...?” He made a vague wave of the hand towards the dining hall. 

Qiu’s jaw set. “No, actually. I’m still jet lagged from the plane ride this morning that you never greeted me from and I want to get some sleep tonight.”

Cheng frowned. “Ah-Qiu—”

“Forget it. I need a smoke.”

As Qiu turned and headed for the nearest exit, Cheng sighed again, irritated. “For fuck’s— You’re joking. Qiu.”

Qiu was already pulling a pack of smokes from his pocket as he walked. “Yeah, because you’re always so receptive to a joke, aren’t you, He Cheng?” he muttered.

Cheng didn’t respond, but followed him out. People only gave them a passing glance as they went by, sometimes a nod or a half-smile once they recognized Cheng as his father’s son. But soon they were alone, warm evening air dragging away smoke tendrils from the glowing end of Qiu’s cigarette as he walked the stone pathway. The sky was a deep orange hue like that of a wildfire, tainted by a dark, creeping purple at the edges. The gardens hadn’t been touched much since Mrs. He’s passing earlier in the year, but Qiu followed the edge of it nonetheless, coming to a stop at the iron gate that was cold through his sleeves when he leaned his elbows on it.

He said nothing when Cheng appeared at his side, and the two stood in silence as Cheng sparked a lighter and held the flame to his own cigarette until it caught.

For a while, they only looked upon the shadowed landscape of the He estate; the small rolling of hills disturbed by the forest, trees’ silhouettes protruding out like teeth on a comb. Qiu wondered how long it would take for a single match to leave the hilltops barren and charred. Then, Cheng spoke.

“How was it?” he asked. His voice sounded louder here, away from the house. “The trip.”

Qiu glanced at him from the corner of his eye, then looked forward again.

“Same ol’ shit,” he answered blandly. “Every city looks the same to me. Nothing worth mentioning. And I couldn’t even understand the fucking language they were speaking during the meetings, either. Waste of my time. I was muscle and not much else.”

Cheng nodded, absentminded, like that made sense. 

And then he said, in little more than a mutter: “I thought of you.”

Qiu’s brows drew together, cigarette paused between the split of his lips. Then he drew in a breath; let the smoke dance and twirl in front of his eyes. The burn at the back of his throat almost felt cathartic. 

“Well, aren’t I fucking lucky?” he muttered. “He thought of me. Fucking groundbreaking.”

Cheng looked at him, expression blank. “You were gone a long time, Qiu. I don’t want you to think I wasn’t thinking of you during that time. That I didn’t notice your absence, when I did.”

Qiu only shook his head. “Hard to believe when you’re more worried about talking to old men who don’t give a shit about you and a stain on He Tian’s fucking shirt than you are about seeing me again.”

“I couldn’t find the time,” Cheng told him. “My father told me my first priority was socializing — networking, or however he puts it. And He Tian developed a bad habit for nightmares about our mother again while you were gone. He’s woken me up nearly every night, and he’s skipping meals again. I’ll be the first to admit it’s annoying, but I can’t just fucking— ignore him.”

Little lion men, Qiu thought, the both of you. 

But Qiu weighed the words sitting on his tongue carefully. He tapped away the flaking ends of his cigarette as he did, and watched the ash rise to the sky among the dim stars.

Eventually, he gave into the loss of inhibition.

“You’re filling a spot you don’t need to fill,” he said, a little coarse. “He’s a kid; he’s gonna mourn his mom whether you bend over backwards or not. But you’re putting more and more shit on your plate that you don’t need to, and it’s gonna bite you in the ass eventually.”

To Qiu’s surprise, Cheng nodded. 

“But when it comes down to it, there’s no other option,” Cheng said. His eyes scanned the horizon, and Qiu wondered what he saw in the trees. “I didn’t have a sibling growing up in this family; I’m not so damn selfish that I would want that for He Tian, too. Especially now, after...”

Behind them, Qiu could hear the distant drone of music and the chatter of people. The liveliness seemed to be separated from them in that moment, like a dome encasing the noise. Here, they were still and quiet, caressed by a soft wind that had freed a strand of hair to lie on the flat of Cheng’s forehead, warmed by the heat between their too-close shoulders and the smoke that one man breathed out and the other breathed in. Equilibrium.

“So…” Qiu started after the silence stretched, “what, then?”

Cheng straightened, smirking. “So, nothing. I do what I can. I’m taking him camping near the river this weekend. Getting us both away from here for a few days.” 

He looked at Qiu. Continued: “And when I come back, we can take the Hongqi out for a ride. I know you want to see it. And I’ll let you tinker with it, or whatever the hell you usually do with the bikes and shit.”

Qiu clicked his tongue — even as his chest warmed at the idea of putting his hands on something that nice. “Don’t try to bribe your way out of this.”

Cheng huffed a laugh, breathy and stolen. “Why not? There’s only so many ways to make you happy, and I never knew you were such an attention whore until tonight. I saw you the moment you walked in, but I didn’t realize I had to make it known.”

Qiu spit into the grass. “Fuck you. I’ll remember this when you fuck off somewhere and come back.”

“An eye for an eye. Sounds fair enough to me.”

“‘Course it does to someone like you.”

Cheng smiled — something small and rare and barely noticeable that made Qiu break eye contact. Oblivious, Cheng took a long drag off his smoke, then nodded to himself.

“Then this weekend is a deal,” he confirmed, low. “Spending some time together, now that you’re back.”

Qiu dropped his cigarette, and crushed it beneath his shoe.

“Fine,” he said, feigning vexation. “But only because it’s your damn birthday, and I’m the only one around here who seems to care. I pity you.”

The words were meant to be clipped and prickling, but he felt the weight of Cheng’s eyes trail the length of him with anything but contempt. Eventually, Cheng put out his cigarette too, then slipped his hands in his pockets as he overlooked the hills. 

“Well,” he said, smirking. “Aren’t I fucking lucky.”

[allsassnoclass]

i blame it on the weather (can you make it better)

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Key Tag(s): College AU, Cold, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 6,177

Read on AO3

A/N: this was tailor-made for @michaelownsmyheart​. I hope you like it darling <3 also big shout out to @clumsyclifford​ for looking this over and giving me Good Advice

—

Michael doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

—

The drive back to campus feels shorter than normal, songs on the radio flying by with other cars on the highway the further Michael gets from his family and the closer he gets to the loneliness of an empty dorm.  Normally he wouldn’t mind having the place to himself, especially because that means he can blast music as loud as he wants and no one else is going to take the shower with the good water pressure, but there’s something foreboding about it now.

His phone is still empty of messages from the one person he’s been waiting to hear from.  Two weeks alone in the dorms wouldn’t be so bad if he had Calum on the other end of the line to keep him company.

He pulls into his parking spot right as snow begins to fall, a little earlier than predicted.  He sends a quick text to his parents to let them know he made it safe, then grabs his bags and makes the trek to his dorm.  It’s an older building elegantly nestled between the newer residence halls with better air conditioning or elevators that don’t break down every month, but there’s more character to it.  The other dorms are boxy and made of dark brick, but this one is lighter with turrets at the top and heavy wooden doors.  It looks more like a fantasy castle than a dorm building, and Michael’s mum had fallen in love with it immediately on their campus tour a few years ago.  Now that Michael is living here it’s lost some of its luster, but it’s also the only building to have single rooms, and while having Luke as a roommate turned out alright in the end last year, he likes being able to have the room to himself all of the time.

Michael fumbles for his key card to swipe himself in, biting off one of his gloves so he can get it out of his wallet.  Thick flakes land on his coat and hands, the kind that would probably be good for making snowmen if he still did stuff like that but that will be hell to drive in later.  Hopefully the roads will be clear enough by tomorrow, and he probably has some ramen that he never made from last semester that he can heat up for dinner tonight.

Inside doesn’t feel much warmer than outside, but there’s no snow or wind.  Michael stomps his feet in an attempt to get all of the snow off his boots, but freezes as soon as he glances up.

Nestled amongst the armchairs, big windows, fireplace, piano, and little side tables that make up the front lounge, Calum Hood stares back at him like a deer in headlights.  He’s got a notebook and pencil in his hand and a textbook open in front of him, blanket wrapped around his shoulders in a way that Michael wishes he were.  He looks exactly the same as he did when Michael last saw him a few weeks ago, except he’s fully clothed this time.  He looks good.  He looks cozy.

He looks like Michael is the last person he wants to see.

Michael clears his throat.

“I didn’t know you were back on campus,” he says.

“I’m taking a j-term and thought it’d be easier to focus here,” Calum replies, lifting the notebook halfheartedly.  “It’s a prereq for my chem class this semester.  It turns out that switching majors put me a bit behind this time.”

Michael nods.  Calum started as a music education major, then switched to an elementary education major before realizing he didn’t want to deal with little kids.  Now he’s studying to be a high school science teacher, which means he has a few freshman science classes he needs to squeeze into his schedule.  He hadn’t said anything about a j-term to Michael when he registered, but they also haven’t exactly been communicating much since before finals.

“I didn’t expect anyone back yet,” Calum says eventually.

“I got permission to come back early so I can take a few more shifts.  Gotta pay for college somehow, you know…”

Michael trails off, unbalanced and uncomfortable.  It feels wrong to be reacting like this around Calum, just like it felt wrong to not hear from him during finals or break, but after a few more moments of uncomfortable silence and chewing his lip he hefts his bag higher on his shoulder and makes an excuse about wanting to get his room back to rights.  He feels Calum’s eyes on him as he leaves, the weight of his gaze lingering even after Michael has entered the stairwell, dug out his key, and entered his room.  When he takes off his jacket he immediately reaches for a blanket, wrapping himself up and trying to suppress the shivers threatening to erupt throughout his body.

He doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

-/-

Once he has a bowl of instant ramen in front of him and his stuff more or less put away, Michael calls Luke.

“Good morning,” Luke answers, a leftover joke gone stale from when they were roommates with opposite sleep schedules.  It almost makes him wish for a simpler time when Luke was forcing him to go places like Welcome Week events and they were literally running into people like Calum and Luke was forcing them all to be friends even though Michael’s smoothie got spilled and Calum dropped his nachos.  Michael would take being newly flustered over a hot guy who got a strawberry drink all over his favorite sweatshirt rather than having Calum not fucking talk to him.

“Did you know that Calum’s doing a j-term?”

Luke sighs on the other end of the line.

“I’m doing fine, Michael, thank you for asking.  How are you?”

“I’m bad.  Calum is here and no one warned me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell him that you would be back early, either.”

“That much was obvious.”  Michael stirs his noodles, suddenly feeling like he doesn’t have the right appetite for this.  “He looked like me showing up was the worst thing in the world.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not,” he says.  “You should’ve seen him.  He hates me now, and I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Luke says.  “He misses you, too.”

“If he misses me so much, he should respond to my texts.”

Luke hums on the other end of the line.

“You’re both in the same place now.  Maybe you can corner him in person.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if someone would just tell me what happened.”

“What happened is that you two slept together and then Calum ghosted you,” Luke sighs.  “If you want his reasoning, you have to ask him.  I will not be a messenger pigeon for you two.”

“I feel like that metaphor works best only if he’s been asking about me, too,” Michael says.  Luke doesn’t respond right away, a drawn out pause that makes Michael look up from his noodles.  He wishes they were video chatting so he could see what sort of expression Luke is wearing. “Luke, has he asked about me?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” Luke says.

“You fucker, he has talked about me!  Do you know why he ghosted me?”

“Stop using me as a go-between!  If you want to know why Calum hasn’t replied to your messages, ask him yourself.  You both need to get your heads out of your asses and communicate.  I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say that.”

Silence descends and Michael pulls his phone away from his ear to see that Luke hung up on him.  Michael huffs.  A second later his phone lights up with an incoming call, a very unattractive picture of Luke staring at him from his screen.  He considers letting it ring out and go to voicemail, but in the end he decides to take the high ground and answer.

“What,” he says flatly.

“Sorry I hung up on you,” Luke says.  “I don’t like being caught between you both.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.  “I don’t like it, either.”

“Will you try to talk to him?  He’ll let you if it’s in person.”

“I guess.”

Luke hums.  They stay on the phone a little longer, small talk filling the silence so Michael doesn’t have to be alone while he eats, but he knows he’s being a bad conversation partner, too distracted by what Calum may or may not have been saying about him to Luke.  When they finally hang up Michael flops back on his bed and groans, wondering if he should just move to Antarctica and change his name rather than put himself through this.

-/-

He manages to go the rest of the night without any indication that Calum is there.  They miss each other in the bathroom, but every sound in the hallway has the hair on his arms standing on end, wondering if it could be Calum or just the settling of the near-empty building.  He sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning on the sub-par dorm mattress, cuddling deeper into his blanket in an attempt to find some much-needed warmth.

The last night he spent with Calum, and the first night they’d spent together in that way, Michael fell asleep warm.  It was almost too hot, sticky under the covers and burning wherever their skin touched, but he loved it.  He’d take the heat over the cold any day, and he hasn’t felt warm since he woke up alone, bed feeling too big without the other boy in it to act as his personal space heater.

That morning the sheets had still smelled like him, but they were cold.  He’d left long before Michael woke up.  Michael’s first morning back feels like a mirror of that day.  Right before he fully wakes up he catches himself reaching for Calum and coming up empty.  When he realizes what he had been doing, he forces himself to get up rather than stay in bed and wallow only because he can’t afford to be late to work on his first day back and he doesn’t trust the roads to be cleared yet.  The college is situated on the outskirts of town, an odd placement that puts a woodsy area to one side and only a few smaller shops next to it.  Michael hadn’t managed to land a job in one of those places, but the family-owned restaurant he works at pays enough to be worth the gas it takes to get there.  He throws on a hoodie and slippers and shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Calum is already at one of the sinks when he enters.  Michael doesn’t let his eyes stray from his face, refusing to take in the tan shoulders and torso or the drops of water glistening against him, leading down to the towel wrapped around his hips.  He has a toothbrush in his mouth, foam gathering at the corners of his lips, lips that Michael has--

No.  He can’t think about this now.

“Morning,” he says, clearing his throat to get it to work properly.

“Morning,” Calum replies around his toothbrush, consonants muffled.  He spits into the sink and Michael makes himself focus on his own morning routine, meticulously putting toothpaste on his own brush and hoping it’s not obvious that even glancing at Calum is dangerous for him right now.

Neither of them try to say anything more, and Michael wonders if the silence is hanging as heavily in the air for Calum as it is for him.  Before break, silences between them were the only types of silences Michael could stand.  He’s fidgety by nature and gets uncomfortable without background noise, but Calum always managed to temper that a bit.  Being around him settles something inside, something that right now makes Michael want to scream.

He’s about to try to break the silence when Calum picks up his bathroom caddy and leaves without so much as a glance his way.  Michael tries not to let it bother him, but he misses the weight of his gaze.  Calum used to look at him fondly, filled with enough affection that Michael could feel it in his heart.  He doesn’t understand why that would have to change now.

By the time Michael goes to start his car for work, Calum has set himself up in the lounge again, laptop open in front of him.  He’s turned on the fireplace, something that Michael thinks they're not technically supposed to do but that he’s certainly not going to call him on, and he doesn’t look up when Michael comes down the stairs.  Michael lingers by the doorway longer than he should.

They’ve spent a lot of time in this room, whether doing homework on the couch, trying to play duets on the piano in the corner, or hogging the chess set by the window, figuring out how to play and passing the time.

The chess board is set up for a fresh game.  In a naive fit of hope Michael walks over to it and moves one of the pawns forward.  Calum doesn’t glance up from his computer, but he’s still in a way that means he knows what Michael is doing.

On his way out he thinks he hears someone say drive safe, but the howling of the wind is already filling his ears and he can’t be sure.

-/-

Michael gets sent home early because of the snow.  He fights it all the way there, pulling in late because he had to move so slow, and halfway through his shift the manager calls it, deciding to close up for the day.  Right after he clocks out Michael gets a notification on his phone for a severe blizzard alert, and he steels himself to face it before leaving behind the warmth of the restaurant.  Outside the world is covered in a thick sheet of white, plows not able to keep up with the large flakes still falling from the sky, and Michael wills his car to survive the drive, windshield wipers going furiously in an attempt to keep him seeing as much as he can.  The drive takes three times longer than usual, and when he finally spots his dorm through the snow it comes with a sigh of relief.

Calum is still in the lounge when he comes inside and stomps his feet to get some feeling back into them.  With the snow came a biting wind, and even after barely being outside he feels frozen.

“I was getting worried,” Calum says, startling him.  “It looks like it’s bad out there.”

“It is,” Michael says, taking off his hat and shaking snow off of it.  He squints at Calum, in a different position and bundled in a blanket now, the big blue one that Mali got him as a grad present.  Michael once again has to push away the urge to cuddle up to him.

“It’s fucking cold,” he says instead, because it’s true and if he doesn’t make small talk he’s going to blurt something embarrassing like I’ve been thinking about you all the time or why did you leave me or I love you I love you I love you I’m sorry please can we be friends again?

“Going to be a cold night for us, then,” Calum says.  “The heating’s been shit this break.  I don’t think they keep it up as high when there’s only one student here.”

“I’ve had a few cold nights,” Michael snorts before he thinks about it.  “I mean--I’ll use some extra blankets.”

Calum nods once.  He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then snaps it shut again, looking down at his computer.  It feels like a dismissal, like Michael isn’t worth his time anymore, and it stings.

He should go upstairs, anyway.  He needs to find some blankets of his own.  He glances over the piano and the fireplace, eyes landing on the chess game by the window.

Someone has moved a pawn on the other side.  He glances at Calum, then moves a knight, continuing the game.  He wants to ask Calum to sit down and play a proper round with him, but one glance at Calum’s posture has him biting his tongue.  He’s closed off, blanket wrapped around him securely and face tense, and Michael can’t bring himself to bother him, not when interacting with Michael seems to be the last thing he wants to do.

Michael looks back at the chess set, three pieces out of place, and heads to his room.

-/-

The night comes simultaneously fast and slow in the way that all boring winter nights do.  Michael sits in his room scrolling through social media while the sun sets around him, and when he does eventually get up it’s only so he can make more ramen to eat.  He had lunch at the restaurant and never did get to the grocery store, but he has a few snacks to munch on and if things get really bad he can always see if Calum has anything he’s willing to share.

Calum initiated conversation earlier, so things can’t be too bad between them, right?  It’s still terribly stiff and uncomfortable, but at least he’s not getting the silent treatment anymore.  At least Calum looked at him for a little bit.

He plays video games until he’s too bored to continue, then showers and crawls into bed.  It’s still cold, just like Calum said it would be, but they haven’t lost power yet.  Michael piles on the blankets and pillows, but his sheets are frigid, not yet warmed by his body heat and making him shiver.  After a few minutes of tossing and turning he considers boiling water just to have a warm mug to hold in his hands.

Maybe it’ll be better in the lounge with the fireplace on.  No one’s here to get mad at him for falling asleep on the couch, but then he’d have to haul all of his blankets down there, something that he doesn’t think he has the energy for right now.

He wishes Calum were here.  It feels like all he’s done since getting back to campus is think about Calum, his presence in the building affecting him more than it would have if he was fully alone, but in a pragmatic sense he also really wants a warm body next to him right now.  Two people under the covers are warmer than one, and he’s already put on socks and a hoodie.  Wrapping himself in Calum would keep him warm on a physical level, and maybe it’ll settle him enough that he’ll actually be able to sleep without having weird dreams or waking up every few hours.

He hasn’t even gotten close enough to touch him since getting here.  Before break, he and Calum were always handsy with each other, personal space a myth with the two of them.  It feels wrong to have seen him and not immediately gone in for a hug.

He flops onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the blankets too much, but sleep isn’t coming easy.  When a knock comes on his door, he’s immediately awake and alert.  He wonders if it was a piece of a dream instead, given that there’s only one other person in the building and late night visits did not seem to be an option on the table, but after a few moments someone knocks again.

The light of the hallway is bright after the dark of his room, making him squint at the silhouette of Calum standing before him, wrapped in a blanket like he always seems to be right now.  His hair is messy, no doubt from his own fitful attempt to sleep, and Michael wants to run his fingers through it and put it back to rights.

“Hi,” Michael says.

“I called maintenance about the heat,” Calum says.  “They said they’re having a bit of issue with it and will send someone out, but with the road conditions it could be a little while.  I think they forgot that there were people here.”

“Oh,” Michael says.  “Okay.”

He stares at Calum again, cataloguing how tightly he’s wrapped up and the way he’s chewing on his lips.  Michael waits for him to say what he really came here to.

“It’s really fucking cold, Michael,” Calum blurts finally, a little desperate.

“I know,” Michael says, not sure how to tell Calum that he’d set the world on fire for him if it would help.

“It’d be warmer if we were together.  Like, scientifically speaking.  If we cuddled, it would warm us up a bit.”

“Well, you are the scientist in this duo.  You would know.”  Calum finally meets his eyes, looking up through his eyelashes a little in a way that’s completely unfair.  He’s already got Michael wrapped around his finger, heart skipping a beat at the simple occasion of having his attention again.

He has it so bad that it’s pathetic.

“Is that all?” Michael asks, trying to scrape together some of his dignity.  Calum has been ghosting him for weeks, and a conversation about the bad heating isn’t exactly what Michael wanted from a real conversation with him.  He’s too tired for small talk and much too cold to be standing here when he could be under the covers.

“You’re shivering,” Calum says.  Michael hadn’t noticed the small tremors, but now that Calum pointed them out he can’t ignore them.

“Come on, Mikey,” Calum says, stepping closer.  Michael wants to lean into him and the warmth he promises.  “I promise it’ll be warmer if we cuddle.”

“Do you want to come in?” he asks.  Calum nods, so he steps aside.

Having Calum in his room again when the last time included one of the best and most overwhelming experiences of Michael’s life is weird, to say the least.  It’s like Michael can see two versions of him: the current Calum, wrapped in a blanket and closed off in every conceivable way, and the Calum from that night, laughing at all of Michael’s jokes and spouting off facts about gravity to explain how they kept getting closer and closer.

“See, everything with mass exerts gravity on everything else, except typically it’s not enough to be noticeable compared to the gravity of the Earth.  Your gravitational field must be really strong today.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, Michael, you idiot.  Stop misinterpreting what I’m saying!”

Calum surveys the room, the safety light reflecting off the snow outside just enough to give him silhouettes to work with.  Michael wonders what he’s remembering.

“How do you want to do this?” Michael asks when the silence has stretched on for too long.  Calum shrugs, so Michael climbs up onto his bed, sliding under the covers and leaving a corner flipped up in invitation.  Calum hesitates, and for a moment Michael thinks he’s going to turn tail and run, but he throws his blanket on top of the covers and joins.  The bed is too small to avoid some awkward elbows and involuntary brushes of clothing, barely big enough for one person, let alone two.  Michael holds his breath while Calum gets somewhat settled, pressed against the wall to give him as much room as possible.

“It’ll be warmer if we’re touching,” Calum whispers, words hitting Michael like a shout with the close proximity and otherwise silence of the room.  If the lights were on, Michael would probably be able to count his eyelashes, but now his face is a combination of different shadows.

“How do you…” Michael trails off.  Calum reaches out first, a cold hand wrapping around his own and pulling him closer.  They end up with Calum on his back and Michael’s head on his shoulder, legs tangled together.  Michael’s sure that Calum can hear how loud his heart is beating, but he can feel Calum’s own beating in a similar pattern so he can’t be too upset about it.  He can hear every inhale and rustle of clothing, can feel the soft cotton of Calum’s shirt against his cheek and smell the faint remains of his soap.

He’s warm.  It’s not the burning heat from their last night together, but it’s almost worse with the gradual way that Michael can feel himself unthaw in his presence, slow enough that he could forget it’s happening only to wake up as an irreparable puddle.

“Okay?” Michael asks, sending flashbacks to the last few times he had asked that question and Calum’s answers: always positive, whether a verbal yes or a nod or a fierce kiss and wandering hands.

“Yeah,” Calum says.  Michael swallows.

Calum starts tracing a design on his back with his finger, barely-felt with Michael still bundled up.  Michael wills himself to stay in the moment rather than slipping into the past or wishing for a different future.

It’s not bad like this.  He gets Calum close at least, receiving that little piece of contact from him that he’s been craving.  If this is the last time they’re like this, he wants to enjoy it if he can.

He shifts, Calum freezing under him for a moment until they both exhale and relax a little more.

Michael closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep.

“Michael?” Calum whispers after a few minutes.  For a moment he considers not answering, sure that anything Calum might think to say in the dark of the night will be something he doesn’t want to hear, but all he’s been asking for the past few weeks is his attention, and it seems vindictive to reject it now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael should ask for clarification on what, exactly, Calum is apologizing about.  He’s opened the door to this conversation, and Michael should take the opportunity to finally walk through and get their wires straightened out, but he can’t bring himself to do any of that, not like this.  Not when Michael is breathing him in and stealing his warmth and there’s absolutely nothing between them to act as a buffer.

In the dark cuddled up together, Michael can keep pretending that Calum isn’t about to crush him.  As long as he doesn’t ask for clarification, it’s like Schrodinger’s heartbreak: Michael can be both loved and lonely at the same time.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he asks.  “We need to talk about it, but I’m tired.  And cold.  Not tonight.”

“Okay,” Calum says.  Michael waits to see if there’s anything else, but Calum just resumes tracing his secret design on Michael’s back.

Michael closes his eyes and hopes they don’t freeze to death in the night, twin skeletons found tangled together by some unsuspecting third party when the thaw comes.  He’s not sure when he falls asleep and begins to dream, but in his mind Calum presses a kiss to his hair and Michael tries not to let such a simple action break him.

-/-

When he wakes up the bed is cold and empty again.  It shouldn’t be surprising, certainly not after last time.  There was less expectation to stay here, but everything is ugly in the cold light, shattering the fragile balance of the night before.  Michael feels a pit in his stomach, but also a hot flare of anger.

Calum is the one who came begging for his company yesterday after completely ignoring him for weeks.  Calum is the one who left without a trace after Michael showed him he loves him the best way he knows how.  Calum is the one who keeps running away from this, but Michael is the one who keeps getting hurt and that’s not fair.

It’s a little warmer in the building now, the heaters likely getting sorted while they were sleeping, but Michael still grabs a blanket.  No one answers Calum’s door and the bathroom seems to be empty.  He heads downstairs to see if he has set himself up in the lounge again and knows he’s on the right track when he starts to hear piano music drifting softly towards him the more he descends the stairs.

Calum is one of the only people who ever uses the grand piano in the lounge.  It’s slightly out of tune, just enough for Michael himself to notice but for Calum to complain about a lot.  Michael has spent a lot of later nights in the lounge listening to him play, whether he was practicing back when he used to be a music major and take lessons or just playing for fun.  Calum curses a lot when he practices, but Michael has also caught him with his eyes closed and a content smile on his face, letting the music take him away.  Watching him like that, Michael sometimes wonders why Calum switched from music to science, but the rarity of the moments makes them all the more special.

He’s playing a piece that he’s been working on for a while.  Michael tries not to disturb him, walking slowly towards the chess set where another piece has been moved in a continuation of the game.  Calum must have pulled the curtains by the windows up, deep drifts of snow piled against them and sunlight reflecting off the white to set the entire room aglow.  In this setting and with this soundtrack, the morning feels less frosty.

The last note hangs suspended in the air and Michael holds his breath until it dissipates.  Calum sighs, breaking his posture to slump down, and turns to face Michael.

“You’ve gotten better at that one,” Michael says.

“Easier to practice when I don’t have to go to the music hall and no one’s here to use the piano.”

Michael studies him, taking in his rumpled appearance.  He doesn’t look like he’s been up that long, still in the same pants he went to bed in and already folding the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands to keep them warm.

The sweatshirt he’s wearing is one of Michael’s.  His heart flip-flops.

“Did you want to talk now?” Calum asks.

“Yeah,” Michael sighs.  Calum nods once.  He scoots over on the piano bench, making room, and Michael gingerly sits next to him.  After a moment’s hesitation, he offers part of his blanket, nearly sighing in relief when Calum accepts it.

“I’m sorry for how I left, and for not replying to any of your messages,” Calum begins.  “That was a jerk move.”

“It was,” Michael says.  “You’re my best friend, Calum.  If I had known that’s how you’d react, I wouldn’t have--”  He stops, because he doesn’t want to say he regrets sleeping with Calum unless he has to.  It would be a lie.  He’d rather have Calum as a friend than nothing, but the will-we-won’t-we would’ve killed him eventually, and the night itself was amazing right up until Calum left.

“I don’t want to jeopardize that,” he says instead.  “You mean a lot to me.”

Calum presses his lips together.

“Why did you leave?” Michael asks.  “I thought we were on the same page.  I mean… you wanted it, right?  You said you did.  I thought you did.  I didn’t--”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Calum interrupts.  “I did want it.  I really wanted it.  Too much, probably.”

“What does that mean?”

Calum sighs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his sleeves again.  Michael wants to know why he’s so nervous.  He wants to grab his hands and hold him steady the way that Calum does for him when he’s freaking out, but that wouldn’t be welcome right now.

“Michael, I can’t do something casual with you.  You’ve said before that you’re not looking for anything serious, but I can’t be friends with benefits, not with you.  Not when I’m in love with you.  It’d tear me apart.”

“What made you think I wanted something casual?” Michael asks.  “Apparently you couldn’t tell, but that night was kind of a big deal for me.  I’m not exactly known for sleeping around.”

“Michael--”

“I’ve been crushing on you since we met, okay?” Michael says, turning to face him more fully.  “I wasn’t looking for something serious with anyone else because I’ve been hung up on you.  That night was one of the best nights of my life, and then you weren’t there in the morning.  I thought I had fucked up.  I thought I had ruined one of the most important relationships in my life.”

“You didn’t,” Calum says, grabbing his hand.  “I should have talked to you instead of running away.  That’s on me.”

“Yeah it is,” Michael sulks.  “Why didn’t you?  Why’d you just assume what I wanted instead of bothering to ask me?  That hurt, Cal.”

“I know.”  Calum grimaces, then shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I thought I knew what you wanted.  Or didn’t want, I guess.  I didn’t consider that you could like me until you kissed me, and you’ve never shown interest in an actual relationship.  I wasn’t ready for you to reject me.”

“But I wasn’t going to,” Michael says.  “You’re you.  You’re the exception.”

“I didn’t know that, though.  We didn’t exactly sit down for a conversation.  Our mouths were otherwise occupied that night, if I remember correctly.”  Michael opens his mouth to protest, then snaps it shut.

He doesn’t remember exactly what he said in the heat of it, but he remembers biting back I love you, knowing it was too early to be throwing that phrase around, no matter how true it was.  Maybe he ended up hiding the sentiment a bit more than he anticipated.

“You still should’ve talked to me,” he says.

“I know,” Calum replies, squeezing his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll do better with that.”

Michael squeezes his hand back.

“So,” he says, “you like me?”

“Yeah,” Calum says.  “A lot.”

“You got that I like you, too, right?  I said that.  I’ve had it bad for you since we met.”  Calum frowns.

“You took a while to warm up to me.  I thought you were still holding a grudge because I spilled your smoothie.”

“No, you had me tongue-tied,” Michael says.  “I had to figure out how to function around you.  You’re really hot and it made me flustered.”

“Shut up,” Calum says.  He’s blushing, crimson staining his cheeks enough for Michael to see, sending a strong thrill of satisfaction through him.

“I’m serious,” he needles.  “You’re ridiculously attractive, dude.  You’re not going to hear the end of it from me now.  I’ve said it once and now there’s nothing to stop me from saying it five times a day.”

Calum laughs and tucks his face into Michael’s shoulder.  Michael feels his own happiness bubble up inside him, threatening to burst.  He brings Calum’s hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it in an attempt to release some of the pressure.

“Are we boyfriends now?” Calum asks.

“Fuck yeah,” Michael says.  “Unless you don’t want to be, but that’d be lame.”

“I want to be,” Calum says quickly.

“Good,” Michael says.  “Then we are.”

“Good.”

They sit for a while, and this silence feels comfortable again, like their old ones.  Michal could stay suspended in this moment like the final note of Calum’s piano song and feel content with it rather than uncomfortable.  That more than anything lets him know they’ll be okay.

“I’m cold,” Calum says eventually.

“We should move by the fire.”

“We should eat breakfast,” Calum counters.  Michael hums and gives Calum’s neck an exaggerated sniff, making him squirm and giggle again.

“You should shower,” he says.

“Fuck you.  That’s rude.”

“I could join you?” Michael offers.

“These showers are not big enough for two people,” Calum says.  “Nice try, though.”

He stands and kisses Michael on the forehead, tucking the blanket back around him.

“Can I kiss you properly?” Michael asks.  Calum nods and leans down again, the gentle press of his lips both familiar and thrilling, sweeter in the morning light.

“Breakfast, then I’m going to shower alone, then I think we have a chess game to finish.”

“Or we could make out all day while we have the lounge to ourselves.”  Calum considers him, tilting his head and giving a wry smile.

“We can do that if you win the chess match.”

“Deal,” Michael says.  It’s an easy bargain, because Michael is better at chess than Calum is, and with that prize on the line nothing’s going to distract him.

“Breakfast,” Calum repeats, tugging on his hands until he’s standing, too.  Michael leans forward and kisses him again, just because he can now.  Calum beams and leads him to the stairs, Michael tripping over his blanket and Calum’s laugh filling the room.

It could just be the heating kicking in more, but Michael isn’t sure he needs the blanket right now, not when Calum is here warming him from the inside out.

[seriestrash]

The Summer of ‘95 - Part Four

|| PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE ||

Summary: In the summer of 1995, Sunset Curve were trying to make a name for themselves. The band was always close but that summer they forged an unbreakable bond. Whilst the whole band strengthened their existing connection, Alex and Luke find themselves lighting a different spark.

A little love life before the afterlife.

Part Four: Something Special

Word Count: 7023 (long, loops)

- read on ao3 -

☀ ☀ ☀

Luke and Alex parted ways in the early hours of the morning. Now late in the afternoon Luke sits quietly on the couch in Bobby’s garage. Reggie and Bobby were hanging around too, both bored from waiting for Alex. 

“Are you sure he isn’t mad at me?” Reggie questions. 

“For the tenth time, yes, I’m sure.” Luke groans before telling a little white lie, “I told you I spoke to Alex last night on the phone and he’s been too sick to get out of bed.” 

“We’re losing precious days of summer here.” Bobby highlights, “We haven’t performed since the party and we all know how that went.” 

“Disaster.” Reggie frowns. “And my parents totally don’t buy my excuse about spilling a drink.” 

“I already said I’m sorry.” Luke snaps, he had been sure Alex was going to show up today but the longer they waited around the more concerned he got about ruining one of the best friendships he’s ever had. 

Reggie shakes off Luke’s aggression and walks over to Alex’s drums, “I’ll be our new drummer. It can’t be that hard,” Reggie spins one of the symbols. 

“Stop,” Luke says, “You know Alex hates when someone else touches his drums.” 

“Just about as cranky as you get when someone touches your song book without your permission.” Bobby smirks. 

“I’ll show you a song when I’m ready.” Luke says dramatically, “Is it too much to ask for a little patience?” 

Bobby and Reggie are chuckling at a worked up Luke when Alex appears out of nowhere. 

“I’m gone a few days and you’re already replacing me?” Alex appears nervous although he tries to hide it. 

Luke’s head quickly turns in the direction of his friend, trying to read his expression or his body language, anything that might tell Luke if their kiss that morning ruined things or started something new. Alex was avoiding eye contact with Luke and only looked over at Reggie invading his drums space. 

“Finally.” Reggie says throwing a drum stick at Alex and the blonde fumbles it slightly but still caught it. 

“Sorry I’ve been MIA.” Alex laughs. “I was sick.” 

“Sick with the love bug?” Reggie jokes and both Alex and Luke’s eyes go wide. 

“What?” Alex forces out a laugh riddled with nerves. 

“I saw you at the party with that guy.” Reggie explains. 

“Oh,” Alex lets out a sigh of relief, “Right.” 

“Are we going to chit chat all day or can we rehearse?” Luke changes the subject. 

“I’ve been playing around with some of the chords in Long Weekend.” Bobby jumps straight into it enthusiastically.

“That’s one of my favourites.” Alex nods, “Let’s hear it.” 

Luke’s eyes had been solely focused on Alex since he entered the garage so once the blonde finally meets his gaze Luke smiles hopefully.

Alex approaches the couch where Luke sits and quietly asks, “Room for one more?” 

Luke’s smile grows as he thinks of his parting comment to Alex earlier that morning. Luke coaxes his head ever so slightly as if to ask Alex if this meant what he thought it did. The drummer picked up on Luke’s silent question and wore a sweet grin as he nods gently. 

“Always,” Luke smiles through a nod as Alex takes the space on the couch beside him. Luke quickly tries to contain himself and turns his attention to Bobby. 

Luke had never wished for band practice to be over before but that day he couldn’t wait for it to end so he could to try get a moment alone with Alex. The moment didn’t come until after dark. Bobby offers for everyone to crash in the garage that night, Reggie accepts but Luke turns to Alex for a single second before turning down the offer. 

“I told my mom I’d be home tonight.” Luke shrugs a shoulder quietly holding his breath for Alex to also come up with an excuse. 

“Not tonight, I’m still feeling a little off.” Alex says, “But tomorrow, the pier? Maybe a club?”

“Club adjacent.” Reggie throws his head from side to side. 

“You know what I mean.” Alex chuckles. 

Luke laughs too, more than warranted but he was just excited that Alex found an excuse for them to leave together. 

The two exit Reggie’s garage and don’t say a word until they’re at the end of the driveway. 

“So I know-“ Alex starts.

“About this- Luke says at the same time and the pair laugh it off. Luke pauses and motions for Alex to speak first, part of him feared if Alex didn’t say what he wanted to now he might talk himself out it all. 

“I was going to say if we are really going to see whatever this is, I need to set a few rules.” Alex waves his hand assertively, like he had to push that statement out.

“Come on, Alex, no rules in the bubble.” Luke pouts. 

“If I’m going to adopt fifty percent of your optimism, you have to take on at least twenty-five percent of my anxiety.” Alex says completely seriously. 

Luke wears a soft smile, “Alex, I would take one hundred percent of that away for you if I could.”

Alex smiles too as they walk and he believes Luke’s comment to be genuine. Still he continues, “We keep this private, for now at least.” 

“Done.” Luke agrees. 

“We promise to not let this jeopardise the band.” Alex adds. 

“Agreed.” Luke nods sincerely, he definitely didn’t want that either.

“And if at anytime, one of us freaks out, likely me-“ Alex begins but Luke throws out his arms to stop the blonde from walking. 

Luke forces Alex’s stare as he stresses, “If at any point this hurts you more than helps you, I’ll pull the plug myself.” 

Something about Luke’s choice of words was very calming for Alex, maybe this thing between them actually could help, maybe it would help Alex accept himself more or take away some of his anxieties. 

“Okay now that that’s all out of the way.” Alex lets out a loud exhale and is ready to move forward, “Will you go to the museum with me? It’s open late all summer.” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” Luke coaxes his head with a smile. 

“I think I am.” Alex’s own smile creeps wider. 

Luke happily agrees and the two make their way over to the museum. It was closing in an hour but without either of them having to say it out loud, they both knew exactly where they were headed when they arrived. 

With it being just before closing, the room of the exhibit is completely empty except for the two of them. They stand in front of a glass cabinet that’s two feet wide and eight feet tall, full of preserved butterflies all pinned with no rhyme or reason, just a colourful display of beauty. The teens are shoulder to shoulder, Luke’s looking at the butterflies but he can feel Alex’s gaze pointed right at him. 

“I’m not going to cry.” Luke says quietly with his smile still pointed to the display. 

“I didn’t think you would.” Alex matches Luke’s soft tone and still looks directly at the brown haired boy. 

Alex shyly lets his fingers brush against Luke’s. Luke looks to Alex now but he had pointed his shy smile at the butterflies. Again the blonde gently brushes his fingers against Luke’s and now the shorter boy knows it wasn’t an accident the first time. Like when Alex hesitated to kiss Luke that morning, Luke wanted to be the one to decisively hold Alex’s hand but he doesn’t as he wanted to let Alex slowly work himself up to it. The blonde does eventually find the courage to take Luke’s hand in his own but he doesn’t dare take his gaze off the display, even though he can feel Luke’s stare burning into the side of him. Luke returns his attention to the butterflies in front of them as well and the pair stand there in silence with fingers laced together and a smile plastered wide on each of their faces as they admire the display until someone announces over the intercom that the museum was closing in five minutes. 

It was easier than Alex anticipated to surrendered to Luke’s optimistic dream bubble where the pair lived comfortably for the remainder of summer. Although still nervous about what this meant for their friendship, Alex found himself enjoying his quiet moments with Luke. The blonde still had the occasional freak out when they kissed sometimes or when Luke would hold his hand under a table in a public setting and sometimes he worried that Luke’s playful side would be seen as flirty when they’re around their other bandmates but more often than not, Alex was craving the moments that scared him the most. 

Luke makes a conscious effort not to push Alex’s boundaries and he was always patient and understanding when Alex pulls away from a kiss or tenses up over an innocent touch in public. Luke constantly reassures Alex that he doesn’t need to apologise for feeling overwhelmed or anxious about their relationship and stresses he’d never push Alex to do anything he wasn’t ready for. Eventually almost all of Alex’s anxieties towards his and Luke’s relationship wash away. 

Whilst Sunset Curve’s notoriety began to grow around town so did the feelings these two shared for each other. Alex and Luke get caught up in their feelings, consumed by them and a sweet innocence encapsulates almost every moment shared. 

They’d go on late night rendezvous in the park, take turns pushing each other on the swings and sit on the roundabout and talk until the sun came up. They’d share secret kisses during band practice when they found a moment alone and anytime they weren’t together the other would creep into each of their minds. 

Alex started spending less of his time at home again. Being with Luke - although they kept it secret - reminded Alex what it was like to be accepted without question and not have to hide who he really is. Being at home where his parents couldn’t look him in the eye tainted the good vibes he was cruising through summer with. 

Between the band really taking off and the romance blossoming between the two friends, this summer was shaping up as one for the history books. Although things were going fantastically for the band, with them getting some serious traction and things truly were all sunshiney in the romance department, Luke’s home life started to tip the scales the other way. With summer ending soon, Luke’s parents were starting to put pressure on him again about school. They kept suggesting he should stop spending all day with the band and put some of his enthusiasm into his studies. They were constantly on him about choosing his classes for his senior year and getting everything in line to help get him into a good college. 

Luke felt like it was getting to the point where it was make or break for the band. If something big didn’t happen soon he was going to follow the path his parents were trying to lay out for him. Sure, it would have been an honest living, probably one he’d end up enjoying eventually but he couldn’t truly be happy if he didn’t follow his passion in life or at the very least try to. 

All this was weighing on Luke ’s mind during the last week of summer but he tries to push that to the side as the band was planning their biggest impromptu show yet. 

Sunset Curve make their way to the summer carnival. The were planning something big for later in the evening but first they take a moment to goof off. They play carnival games and complain that they’re rigged every time they lose. Reggie uses all of his tokens trying to win a goldfish but he has no such luck. They all eat enough junk food to give them stomach aches and laugh so much their faces hurt. 

A few hours pass in what felt like the blink of an eye. Reggie announces that he wants to see the fortune teller before they perform. 

“I don’t need a crystal ball to know where we’re headed boys.” Luke smiles. “Straight to top.” 

“I want to do the funhouse.” Alex says sending a subtle glance Luke’s way. 

“Too many clowns.” Reggie shakes his head. 

“Nobody asked you to come.” Alex quips and Reggie exaggerates the offence he took. 

“I have to see my connection at the ferris wheel.” Bobby announces, “Meet me there 8:45 sharp. We have to time this perfectly.” 

The other three nod their understanding. Reggie takes some of Bobby’s spare tickets and heads towards the fortune teller. Alex gives Luke a playful shove and the pair end up racing towards the funhouse but instead of joining the end of line Alex pulls at Luke’s jacket and leads him elsewhere. 

“I thought you wanted to do the funhouse?” Luke knits his brows. 

“Change of plans.” Alex wears a cute smile and Luke would have followed him anywhere in that moment. 

Alex takes Luke around the rear side of the funhouse which is at the edge of the carnival so there’s nothing there but some litter and the fence that borders the land. Not the most romantic setting but it was private. Still giddy regardless, the pair giggle though a kiss that tasted of cotton candy. They were enjoying themselves in another stolen moment but Luke’s family drama creeps into the forefront of his mind and he breaks the kiss. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Alex asks in a panic. 

“No, it’s not you.” Luke shakes his head. “I’m thinking about my mom.” 

Alex’s eyes widen,”Do you normally think about her when we kiss?”

 Luke gives Alex a gentle shove and mumbles disgust.

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologises, “What’s wrong, did you have another fight?” 

“Only everyday lately.” Luke sighs and he sits on the grass with his back pressed up against the funhouse. 

Alex sits to the right of Luke, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“What’s there to talk about?” Luke huffs, “It’s the same old story; my parents want me to put down my guitar and pick up college brochures.” 

“Maybe you could go yo a music school?” Alex was trying to be positive. 

“Yeah right.” Luke scoffs, “If we’ve not made it big by the time we graduate then what’s the point?” 

Alex frowns, “Is fame all we’re really chasing?” 

“No,” Luke shakes his head, “But I know in my soul that our music is meant to be heard.” 

“I know that too,” Alex agrees, “And your parents will see that too.” 

“I don’t know if they will.” Luke looks at his hands in his lap.

“If we don’t get our big break by the end of summer, we’ll keep screaming our songs through the school year,” Alex is encouraging, “At least we’ll have each other to suffer through senior year with.” 

“There’s only a week of summer left but I can’t help but feel like we’re close to something special.” Luke states.

Alex links his arm with Luke’s and rests his head on Luke’s shoulder, “I’ve kind of felt like that all summer.” 

Luke rests his own head against Alex’s and the two sit quietly all huddled together. Alex could have almost fallen asleep he was that comfortable. The blonde is playing with Luke’s hand when he catches sight of the time on Luke’s watch. 

“Oh crap, we’re late.” Alex springs up. 

Luke checks his watch and jumps to his feet too, “8:51, the fireworks start in nine minutes!” 

“We have to hurry.” Alex grabs Luke’s hand and drags him back into the thick of the carnival. The blonde even forgot to let go of Luke’s hand as they ran towards the ferris wheel together, weaving through carnival goers.

“There’s the guys,” Luke spots Reggie and Bobby waiting by the ferris wheel looking annoyed. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Alex pants and he lets go of Luke’s hand when the pull up to their bandmates. 

“The funhouse line took longer than we thought.” Luke catches his breath. 

“We still have enough time but we have to hurry.” Bobby ushers the boys over to his friend working the ferris wheel. 

“I could get fired for this.” The worker says. 

“Or you could be apart of history, Max.” Bobby pats him on the shoulder before reaching behind his stand and collecting two guitars, “Plus, the carnival is over in a week and you’re out of a job anyway.” He says light heartedly. 

Bobby keeps one guitar and hands another to Luke. Reggie grabs their Sunset Curve banner that was also stashed away at Max’s station. 

Bobby’s friend lets the band to the front of the line where people sported confused looks at the instrument wielding teens. Alex and Luke get in one seat together followed by Bobby and Reggie in another. 

Max returns to his station and turns off the speaker for the ride. More confusion sparks from people on and around the ferris wheel. Max waits until the band is at the top of the ride and stops it completely. 

Reggie drops their band banner and holds it in place. Alex pulls his drumsticks from his bag and uses the seat they’re in as his drum kit, tapping on the side and the safety bar. Luke and Bobby play the opening chords to ‘Now Or Never’. 

People start gathering around the ferris wheel to watch the scene unfold, quickly a crowd forms. The band finish their song just as the fireworks go off and although Alex and Luke almost didn’t make it in time, the band pull off their perfectly time stunt. 

“We’re Sunset Curve, tell your friends!” Reggie shouts loudly and the other band members cheer along as the crowd applauds their efforts. 

The teens were then escorted out of the carnival by security but it was truly legendary. This epic display of their talent caught the attention of a local club owner that caught up with the band out in the parking lot. He invited them to come play the following night as the live talent cancelled last minute. The venue was small and not well known by any means but it was still the most incredible thing to happen to the band up until that point. They booked a club, no more playing outside of them. 

Luke returns home that night and falls asleep in high spirits. Unfortunately his good vibes are quickly crushed the next morning when he’s met by his mom in the kitchen and she didn’t appear happy. It turns out that one of their neighbours witnessed Sunset Curve headline the ferris wheel the night before and told Emily about it. 

The two got in a fight about it, Luke was trying to explain that the stunt was worth it because they booked a gig at a local club that night but Emily shut him down by saying he’s not even old enough to play in clubs. The argument gets heated and Luke storms out of the house. 

Luke was worked up all day and some of that intensity transferring into their set that night in the club. Luckily it didn’t ruin their performance and it was another successful show of the bands talent. 

The club owner was that impressed with the band that he offered for them to come back the next week and play again and of course the band accepted, anything to get their name out there. 

When Emily caught wind of Luke booking gigs when school is supposed to start back up another big argument ensues. Their fights were starting to get more heated and not just louder. It felt like the cracks in their relationship were getting too big to patch up. 

Although he didn’t want to, Luke goes to school the first week to get his parents off his back. The three seniors skipped the last two periods on the Friday to get ready for their second gig at the club. Bobby - whom was already graduated - was waiting out the front with the getaway car, one his dad was letting him use to drive to job interviews. Bobby hadn’t applied for any jobs but he was lying to have a car to drive the band around in. 

Their second gig at the club was even better than the first. Luke quietly returned home knowing his dad would be working late and he hoped to sneak in without alerting his mom, that way the lecture could wait until morning but Emily was there waiting for him. Luke had been told he wasn’t allowed to do the show that night but he did it anyway and his mom found out about him cutting class so she were extra furious. Luke and his mom fought yet again, she kept going on about school coming first and Luke kept yelling about how he only went to school to please her and music was what he wanted to do full time and since there seemed to be no pleasing her anyway he might as well stop going to school all together. 

Unkind words were shared in the heat of the moment and Luke shoves a handful of his things in a backpack, grabs his guitar case and jumps on his bike and leaves his distraught mother in the driveway. Luke pedals his way to Alex’s house and sneaks around the back, stashing his bike where the drummers parents wouldn’t see it. Luke taps on Alex’s window, alerting the blonde who just changed into something comfortable. Alex spots Luke and is instantly concerned, they’d only parted ways an hour before and whilst they had coaxed one another out of their window multiple times this summer, this didn’t feel like a spontaneous rendezvous. 

“What’s wrong?” Alex whispers as he opens the window. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Luke says on the verge of tears. 

Alex looks back at his door in a panic, fearing that his parents might walk in at any moment but he still sees the desperation on Luke’s face and helps him climb through the window. 

“I know you don’t like me coming round incase your parents found out about us,” Luke says quietly, “But I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“It’s okay,” Alex soothes as he gets Luke to sit down on the bed in an attempt to calm him. “I know you weren’t supposed to go out tonight, did you get in trouble?” 

“Worse than trouble,” Luke’s voice cracks, “Alex, I’m done. I can’t go back there.” 

“Come on, Luke,” Alex sits beside him and rests his hand on Luke’s knee, “You don’t mean that.” 

“No, I really do.” Luke insists, “My mom is trying to take Sunset Curve away from me. She says I can’t be in the band as long as I live under their roof. So I’m not going to live there anymore.” 

Alex’s expression falls, he was at a loss for words and Luke continues, “I know I can’t stay here forever, I wouldn’t do that to you but can I please just stay tonight?” 

“Of course,” Alex smiles weakly as his heart hurt for Luke. 

Luke quietly vents some more about the argument and when he finally settles, Alex pulls back the covers for them to get into bed. The two boys face each there and whisper their goodnights. By the morning the pair were cuddled together, peacefully sleeping. 

Later that day, the two make their way to Bobby’s garage and Luke tells Reggie and Bobby that he’s left home for good. Bobby was reluctant - only out of fear of his dad finding out - but he sets Luke up in the loft space of the garage, tucked away out of sight but somewhere safe for him to crash. 

On the Monday, Reggie and Alex return to school like everything was normal. They had been telling their parents and Luke’s parents when they stopped by, that they had no idea where he was. Bobby kept Luke company most of the time but he did go to a few job interviews his dad lined up for him. 

Luke was worried that everyone was moving on with their lives but truthfully the other band members saw sense in Luke leaving school to pursue the band full time. School had only been back a week and a half but they could all feel Sunset Curve losing the momentum it built up over summer. 

A week after Luke run away he was starting to feel lonely in the loft at night and during the days when everyone was busy with school or interviews. Although he was still angry with his parents, Luke couldn’t help but miss them. 

One afternoon Luke sits alone in Bobby’s garage and he writes ‘Unsaid Emily’ in his song book, dripping stray tears onto the pages as he does. When everyone came over that evening for rehearsal, Luke wasn’t sure if he was going to share the song with them but he compelled to. The band helped put music to the sad song and playing it with his closest friends was therapeutic for Luke. Although it made him feel better overall it did make him upset that his mom couldn’t see that this is the exact reason why he loves music, it helps him through the tough times. 

A few days later a surprising phone call makes it’s way to Reggie’s house. They booked the Orpheum. It turns out one of the venue representatives heard about the carnival spectacle and had been trying to track the band down since. 

They had a week to prepare for their biggest break yet. 

Alex and Reggie agreed, there was no point in going to school anymore, it was only getting in the way of their big break but they were going to go right up until the showcase so they could use the success they hoped the show would bring as leverage with their parents. Incase their parents were still not supportive though, both Reggie and Luke stashed a bag of their belongings in the loft of Bobby’s garage. 

Alex leaves school early one day to hang out with Luke. The two of them sneak into Luke’s house while his parents were at work so he could gather a few more of his things. Alex could tell that being there upset Luke so he tries to comfort him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back home?” Alex asks. 

“There’s no point.” Luke shakes his head with a solemn expression, “If I come home there’s no way they’ll let me out again and I wont be able to play the showcase and there is no way in hell I’m missing that show.” 

“Maybe they’ll change their minds after the show.” Alex tries to be optimistic. 

“Maybe.” Luke’s smile is weak. 

Alex didn’t know what to say to make Luke feel better so he tries to lift his spirits by changing the subject. 

“I want to play the song you wrote at the beginning of summer during our showcase.” Alex announces. 

Luke looks confused for a second, “Alex’s Song?” 

“Yeah, but we should probably rename it first,” Alex chuckles softly, “ ‘Bright’ works nice, I think.” 

“I went to bring up the song to the guys at the start of summer but you seemed a little weird when I did so I dropped it,” Luke shares, “I figured you weren’t comfortable sharing.” 

“I know,” Alex lets out a breath, “I thought it was so special I wanted to keep it to myself.” 

“Now you want to share it?” Luke questions. 

“When you sung ‘Unsaid Emily’ with us, I saw how much that helped you.” Alex explains, “And when you shared ‘Bright’ with me- I don’t think I can express how much I needed that song, how much you helped me. You said you wrote that song to let me know I always have you in my corner, I want other people to feel like we’re in their corner too.” 

“It’s your song.” Luke smiles, “I’ll play it if that’s what you want.” 

Alex picks up Luke’s old guitar that’s missing a few strings and pretends like he knows what he’s doing. Sure, he knew a few chords but he was by no means an expert. Alex plays what he can and fakes the rest, sining ‘Bright’ softly to Luke making for a sweet moment as Luke watches on with such love and warmth in his eyes. 

Alex finishes and sits down the old guitar, “I just have one tiny request.” Alex melts under Luke’s adoring stare.

“Anything.” Luke says softly. 

“Can I keep the original paper and we all work on the music with a duplicate copy?” Alex asks. “I want to share but I still kind of want it to be mine.” 

Luke rolls his head forward with a soft laugh and if he had his song book on him he would have torn the page out and handed it straight over. 

They leave Luke’s house with a backpack full of his belongings. 

“Do you want to do something fun?” Luke asks as they walk. 

“What did you have in mind?” Alex questions. 

Luke takes Alex to the aquarium and they sit in dark room with a blue glow of the water being the main source of light. There was only a few other people around and at one point a class on a field trip all pile through. Luke and Alex sit there quietly and watch the people come and go. Eventually it winds up being just the two of them, they approach the big glass wall that gave them a glimpse of what lay below the water. They quietly hold hands and watch the aquatic life float by. Luke turns his gaze towards Alex and can see blue glow reflect in Alex’s eyes and how it paints his skin. The drummer also peels his gaze from the sea life and meets Luke’s smile with a grin of his own, just for a second before turning back towards the glass. In that moment Luke had the urge to tell Alex he loved him but for whatever reason he keeps quiet. 

The pair lost track of time and turn up to Bobby’s two hours late for rehearsal. They are met with a very annoyed Bobby and a disappointed looking Reggie. 

“So you two are alive.” Bobby quips when the pair finally turn up. 

“Sorry, we lost track of time.” Alex frowns. 

“I got a call from the venue rep at the Orpheum today, they wanted us to come by to work out the layout for our gear.” Bobby has his arms folded tightly against his chest. 

“I thought we were supposed to do that Friday.” Luke mumbles. 

“They needed us to come in early.” Bobby says. 

“Can we go now?” Alex asks. 

“Reggie and I already went.” Bobby snaps, “I came and picked him up after school and we waited around for you for half an hour.” 

“Sorry, I skipped last period.” Alex shrinks feeling guilty. 

“We came back here thinking we’d find you both ready for rehearsal at least,” Bobby scoffs. “We were an hour late to our meeting at the Orpheum. Do you know how unprofessional we looked showing up an hour late with half the band?” 

“This is my fault.” Luke jumps in, “I’ve been bored here by myself most days and I made Alex ditch so I had someone to hang out with. I lost track of time.” 

“We’re days away from a career defining moment and you two are ditching band practice to do what?” Bobby asks. 

“Does it even matter? We’ve said we’re sorry.” Luke gets defensive, “It was just one practice, we didn’t know about the meeting.” 

“It hasn’t just been one practice,” Reggie finally speaks up. “You two have been late a lot recently.” 

“The ferris wheel.” Bobby back up Reggie’s statement. 

“We still timed it perfectly,” Luke rolls his eyes. 

“It feels like you’re distracted lately.” Bobby states. “Do you even care about the band anymore?” 

“I ran away from home for this band.” Luke is wildly offended. 

“We wrote a song today,” Alex tries to defuse the tension, “To play during our showcase. It’s called ‘Bright’.” 

“You want us to learn a new song before the show?” Bobby questions. 

“It’s worth it.” Alex insists, “It’s kind of a friendship anthem.” 

Bobby let’s out a frustrated breath, he was still too annoyed to forgive them right away, even if it did look like they were thinking of the band when they were goofing off. 

“Can you just let me know if you’re ditching early next time?” Reggie is quicker to forgive, “I’ll come with you.” 

“Deal.” Alex nods. 

Bobby sulks inside his house and before Reggie leaves he expresses his interest in hearing the song tomorrow. 

Once they’re alone again Luke turns to Alex expecting he would share his frustration for being read the riot act from their friends but instead he’s met with a defeated expression. 

“This is what I was afraid of,” Alex sighs, “Rule number two, don’t let this jeopardise the band.” 

“Alex, what are you saying?” Luke frowns. 

“I don’t know.” Alex shakes his head. 

“Can we talk?” Luke pleas. 

“I have to go.” Alex is already making his way towards the exit. “Family dinner.” 

“That’s tomorrow night-“ Luke says but Alex disappears in a hurry anyway.

Luke is left standing there alone wondering how everything fell apart so quickly. 

The following morning Bobby comes out into the garage with some breakfast for the missing person camped out in the loft. The older boy was still annoyed but Luke gives him a wet willy and it was all water under the bridge. 

That afternoon Luke and Alex show ‘Bright’ to the band and they worked out all the kinks with the music. Luke couldn’t help but notice that Alex felt off the entire rehearsal. 

Just as they finish tweaking ‘Bright’, Bobby runs inside because the phone was ringing. It was the venue rep letting them know their showcase had sold out. This seemed to pick up Alex’s spirits and further erase some of the previous days tension among the band. 

That night Alex pretended to leave rehearsal but snuck back into the garage when he knew it was just Luke. The pair hide away in the loft together. Alex sits with crossed legs and Luke hugs his knees against his chest, the two face towards each other. 

“They all loved ‘Bright’,” Alex tries to fill the silence, “I mean I didn’t doubt they would.” 

Luke just nods. 

“I’m sorry I left the way I did yesterday,” Alex apologises, “I had a mini freak out but that’s not news for you. But don’t worry, I’m over it.” He laughs but Luke didn’t appear to find the humour. 

“Rule number two, Alex.” Luke mumbles and he can’t even look at Alex. 

“We were late, we won’t let that happen again.” Alex has a sad smile as he didn’t like where this was going. “It was an honest mistake.” 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Luke explains, “I knew we were running late but I didn’t care, I just wanted to spend time with you.” 

“We can still prioritise the band and spend time with each other.” Alex smiles softly, “This isn’t something we have to get worked up over. 

Luke finally meets Alex’s gaze and there is intense sadness behind his eyes, “Alex, I’m at the point where I would leave the band for you.” 

“What?” Alex crinkles his brows in confusion. 

“If I had to choose what I want more; for the band to make it or to be with you,” Luke pauses, “I’d choose you, Alex.” 

Alex’s expression falls, he hadn’t thought about it before but if he was being honest he felt the same as Luke. 

“That might be what you want,” Alex says quietly, “But anytime I watch you play it’s clear that music is what you need.” 

“I’m afraid if we don’t work out I’m going to lose you and the band and then I’m left with nothing.” Luke is honest. 

“That would never happen,” Alex insists, “No matter what happens between us, we will always have each others back.” 

“I know but what if the break up is messy?” Luke panics, “And when do we tell Bobby and Reggie?” 

“You really took that twenty-five percent of my anxiety thing quite literal,” Alex tries to be lighthearted but it wasn’t working. 

Silence becomes them, both teens sport sad expressions they point at the ground. They knew what was coming. 

Finally Alex speaks up with a shaky voice, “We have to break up don’t we?” 

“I don’t want to.” Luke buries his head in his lap. 

Alex scoots forward and reaches for Luke’s arms that are still linked around his knees. Alex gives him a soothing stroke. “Hey, it makes sense, it’s okay.” 

“I wish it didn’t.” Luke is muffled as he talks into his lap and there’s lump forming in his throat. 

Alex tugs at the other boys arm asking for him to look up again. Luke listens and raises his head again, tears soaking his cheeks.

“I never understood in movies why people broke up when they still cared about each other,” Alex’s says fighting his own tears, “I finally get it.” 

“I know in my bones that Sunset Curve and our music is something special,” Luke wipes at his damp cheeks. “But this feels like something special too.” 

“It is.” Alex nods, “It always has been, long before you kissed me, Luke and long after. That I’m sure of.” 

“Why aren’t you more scared about all of this?” Luke questions like Alex had that first night in the park. 

“Maybe the ‘everything’s going to be okay’ dream bubble rubbed off on me.” Alex curls the corner of his mouth into a slight smile, “Thank you for that.” 

“Well reality is a real ass kicker so thanks,” Luke says sarcastically and they both manage a weak chuckle which was a little croaky as they both were crying at this point. 

“Promise you’re not breaking up with me because you only dated me to prove you were okay with me being gay?” Alex asks seriously and Luke was bewildered, “Kidding,” Alex breaks with a smile and Luke manages a soft laugh too. 

“We’ll always have this summer, right?” Alex smiles weakly. 

“We’ll always have each other.” Luke says with such a raw sincerity in his voice and Alex truly believed his statement to be true. 

“I’m going to miss holding your uniquely slimy palms.” Alex jokes. 

“Just take me to another scary movie and I’m your man.” Luke smiles and he was starting to feel better about things. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?” 

Alex felt like he knew exactly what Luke was going to say and he wanted to also but he didn’t want to make things harder. “Some things can’t be unheard.” 

“I know.” Luke nods and he knew if he told Alex that he loved him it might undo the breakup they only just managed to get through so he decides to keep it to himself instead he holds Alex’s stare and says, “You’re my best friend, Alex.” 

Alex smiles softly and he knew what Luke really meant and when he says, “You’re my best friend too,” Luke knew what Alex truly meant. 

The break up wasn’t easy by any means but the two of them both knew in their hearts it was the right thing to do and they found comfort in knowing that their friendship was only stronger because of the summer romance they shared. 

25 year later 

After their gig at the Orpheum with Julie, where she might have saved their spirits, things were still so uncertain with what this all meant. 

Luke asks Alex to go to the park with him. They both poof their way over and sit on the roundabout. The park had changed a lot in 25 years but their trusty roundabout remained. 

Alex is rambling about how crazy it is that they hugged Julie and Luke listens with a smile. 

“Julie can feel us!” Alex finally slows down, “This is good news for you right?”

“I don’t know.” Luke gets shy. 

“Hey, I’m happy for you too, you know?” Alex wears a sweet smile. 

“It seems like we only broke up a couple of months ago.” Luke says. 

“I know.” Alex nods, “But weirdly I feel like I have 25 years worth of closure.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Luke agrees. Their breakup really did feel completely resolved. 

“Want to see who can last the longest?” Alex challenges, “I don’t think ghosts can throw up because I’ve been trying to stress heave since we left that dark room and nothing.” 

Luke laughs at his friend and for the first time since dying he let himself reflect on his past relationship with Alex and he appreciated how normal their friendship is. 

“Hey Alex, if I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out?” Luke questions and Alex had heard this once before and stoped Luke from going any further but tonight was different. 

“Yeah, I promise.” Alex was still wondering where this was going. 

“You know now since we’re dead you were technically the love of my life.” Luke kicks Alex’s foot with his own. 

Alex’s smile is soft and genuine, but still he jokes, “Technically? How romantic.” Luke laughs and Alex adds more seriously “Of all the things in my life, being the love of yours was my favourite.” 

“Thanks for not freaking out.” Luke grins. 

Alex shrugs a single shoulder, “Maybe if I didn’t feel the same way it would have been a lot scarier.” 

Two smiley ghosts sit in a park happy to have shared the summer of 95. 

THE END. 

☀ ☀ ☀

End Notes: This be the end my friends! Thanks so much for making it to the end of my story! If you’ve stuck with me since part one or you’re finding this later and read the whole thing - I appreciate you!!!! 

I was going to split this into two chapters because it's long but I though nahhhh screw it! Hahaha hope that's okay. 

Just an added not about Bright and how I made it Alex's song. I like to think that in episode 2 after Alex asks Julie about the music program he tells Luke he should give her the song because it helped him when he needed it most and he wanted that for Julie :))))))))))))))

Thanks so much for taking the time out of your life to read my work! Leave me a comment if you wish, I appreciate any feedback :) Xxx

[insanity-times-10]

zero

part one of the #1 Fan series

also posted on AO3

huge shoutout to my friend Ash who let me use their OC

“Hey there!” Jane said with a wave. “What’s your name?” The bright-haired teen stepped backwards, their place quickly filled by the screaming horde that was the Queendom. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Jane decided to follow the shy fan.

Bad choice, Jane.

The fans swarmed around her, making it nearly impossible to move. Somehow, she managed to stagger through the throng and catch up with the teen.

“Hi,” Jane panted, completely out of breath. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s your name?”

“I’m Zero, I’m... I’m a really big fan, Ms. Seymour.”

“I’ve noticed. You’re here about once a month, right?”

Zero laughed nervously. “Yeah. I didn’t know... I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”

“I do. We notice a lot more than people think we do.” Jane noticed Zero looking around anxiously, so she decided it was time for her to head back to the theater. “Hey, listen,” she said, “I’ve gotta head back inside, I think the others are looking for me. I’m on pretty much all the social media, though, so feel free to shoot me a message anytime!” She turned around and left with a wave, and to her surprise, Zero ran up behind her.

“Hey, uh, do you... do you think I could meet the other queens?” they asked. “I’m just... I-I’m such a big fan, it’s my dream to talk to all of you in person.”

Jane smiled. “Of course! You’ve been here one night a month since we opened. I think it’s time you finally met us.” Jane led Zero inside through the stage door and back to the dressing rooms. The two stopped first at the dressing room Jane shared with Cathy and Kat. Jane knocked on the door. “Everyone decent in there? We have a guest.”

Kat opened the door. She was wearing a sports bra and leggings, since she absolutely refused to put on her hoodie until she had to, and had obviously been reorganizing her makeup organizer. Cathy was still in costume, methodically taking off her makeup with a cleanser she constantly raved about, both online and to the queens.

“Heya, Janey,” Kat said. “We were worried you’d gotten a girlfriend that none of us knew about.”

Cathy nearly spat out the water she’d just taken a drink of. “That is untrue!” she shouted. “Don’t listen to this heretic, babes, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“You haven’t got a need to worry, honey. I’m yours as long as you want me to be.”

Kat cleared her throat. “Hate to break up the cuteness, but didn’t you say something about a guest?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry! This is Zero... I’m sorry, what pronouns do you use?”

Zero, who had been picking at their nails, jumped at the question. “What?” they asked.

“She asked what pronouns you use, darling,” Cathy helped.

“Oh, okay. I, uh, I use they/them. And you can, um, you can call me Z if you want.”

“Alright, then, this is Z, they’ve been coming to our shows about once a month, and they really wanted to meet us,” Jane explained. Z gave a small wave.

“What do you think of the decorations?” Kat asked.

Zero looked around, taking in everything. They smiled. “I really like the flags,” they said. “It’s cool that you all have your own.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. Someone sent them to us for pride month, and then we bought a few of our own that we use as blankets,” Kat explained.

“That’s neat!” Zero exclaimed. They turned to Jane. “Ms. Seymour-”

“Call me Jane,” she interrupted. “You can call us all by our first names, we’re not that formal.”

“Except Lina,” Cathy added. “You wait for permission to call her anything but Queen Catherine.”

Z snickered. “Queen Catherine?”

“Yep,” Kat said. “Her Royal Snobbiness refuses to give up her title.”

“But don’t tell her we called her that,” Cathy chimed in.

“She’ll have our heads,” Kat joked.

Zero nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, you were going to say something?” Jane prompted.

“I was gonna ask if we can go say hi to the others,” they replied.

“Of course! Are you okay going by yourself-”

“Could you come with me?” Z interrupted. “I’m just not- uh, I guess comfortable would be the word- introducing myself to people.”

“I’ll go with you!” Kat volunteered enthusiastically. “Well, if you’re okay with it, that is.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Zero said. “I just don’t wanna go alone.”

“Yay!” Kat cheered, jumping out of her chair. She nearly put her arm around Z’s shoulder, but stopped herself. “Is it cool if I put my arm around you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks for asking, though.”

“Anytime, friend.” Kat draped her arm across them, and the two set off into the hallway. “Wanna bet Jane and Cath’ll be making out when we get back?”

Z flinched. They weren’t used to anyone being this open about being in a same-sex relationship. “Uhm… they might, I guess?” they ventured. “You know them better than I do.”

“Huh. I guess you’re right.” Kat shrugged. “Anyway, here we are. Go on in, I’ll be right behind you.”

Z stepped into the dressing room and was taken aback by all the bright colors and loud sounds. They couldn’t quite tell what was playing on whoever’s speaker was blaring music, but it didn’t sound like anything they’d heard before. Kat must’ve noticed the look of discomfort on Zero’s face, because she’d gone to do something with the promise of being right back. Just like that, the music’s volume lowered, and Z let out a sigh of relief. Kat pulled a chair up next to the costume rack in the middle of the room and climbed on top of it.

“Ladies!” she shouted, almost instantly quieting everyone down, save for the alternates, who were in the corner finishing up a rather vicious card game. “Ladies, this is Zero, Jane brought them in to meet everyone.” Z waved nervously.

Almost immediately, Anne was in Z’s face. Kat, of course, practically had to pry her off of them.

When Zero caught sight of Catalina, they quickly bowed and muttered, “Your Highness.”

“Oh, none of that here. Call me Lina. I don’t know what those two-” she looked warily at Kat- “told you, but you don’t need to call me Queen anything or Your Highness, anything of that sort, mijo.” Her eyes widened as the last word left her lips. “Oh my goodness, that was rather insensitive of me. It’s just… Spanish is so heavily gendered, and I’m not about to let go of my mother tongue-”

“Lina. It’s fine,” Z interrupted. “It’s actually nice that someone is willing to call me pet names, especially after what happened with my parents… let’s just say we’ve got a pretty strained relationship.”

“Oh, cariño, I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Catalina comforted them. “I want you to know that we’re all here for you, and you can message us on social media anytime, even if it’s just something little that made you feel happy.”

————————

Z spent the next three hours perched on Catalina’s dressing room counter, finally excusing themself when they realized that they had an early shift the next day at Barnes & Noble.

Zero let themself into their apartment, taking off their shoes and tossing their keys into the little dish they kept by the door. They reeled for a second at the shock of taking off their platform shoes, but they quickly adjusted. They grabbed a cookie off of the countertop, a couple of those could serve as dinner. They tapped a quick hello on Ricky’s (their betta fish) bowl as they walked past on their way to the living room. Then, seating themself on the floor, they pulled out their phone and opened the photos app. There, at the beginning of their camera roll, was the selfie they’d taken that night with all the queens.

————————

“I really liked that Z kid. I hope we talk again soon,” Jane said.

Cathy hummed some form of a response, too intently focused on the back rub she was giving Jane. “You’re really tense tonight,” she observed. “Everything feel okay? Nothing’s sore?”

“I’m fine,” Jane replied, waving the question off.

“It’s your shoulders,” Cathy continued. “You’re taking enough time for yourself?”

“Probably not, but seriously, everything feels fine.”

Cathy stopped working the taut muscles in Jane’s shoulder. “Are you worried about anything? You’re seeming pretty off.”

“I told you, I’m fine. Can we just go to sleep?” Jane asked.

Cathy sighed. “Yeah. I guess we can.”

————————

“Chérie, stop overthinking this. They told you, it’s fine that you used the masculine form.”

Catalina stopped pacing long enough to give Anne a stern look. “Yes, that’s what they said, but is it what they meant?” she asked.

“Fair point,” Anne replied, “but you’re still giving it too much thought. Come to bed, we can talk it out in the morning. You’ll be able to think better after you get some rest.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Catalina said with a shrug. Anne patted her wife’s side of the bed, and Catalina climbed in without much hesitation. She gave Anne a kiss on the temple and lay down.

“Night night, mon amour,” Anne whispered.

“Buenas noches, querida,” Catalina replied. She lay there for about ten minutes, still wide awake. “Annie?” she whispered into the darkness. Anne grunted. “Oh, good, you’re still awake.”

“Awake being a loosely used term, yes,” Anne grumbled.

“I just wanted to say one more thing.”

“Then say it before I go to sleep.”

“I hope our baby grows up to be just like you.” Catalina smiled as she said this, hoping it was a good way to break the news to Anne.

Anne shot up in bed. “Our… our baby?” she managed to stutter out. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah. And I already talked to Lucy, I’m performing until I’m physically unable to.”

“That’s great.” Anne yawned, then laid down with her head on Catalina’s stomach. “I think I’m gonna stay like this,” she decided.

“It doesn’t hurt me, so as long as you’re comfortable I’m fine with it.”

The two fell asleep like that.

———————-

“Y’know, they mentioned our flags,” Kat said.

“Really?” Anna asked.

“Yep! And they just seemed pretty cool in general.”

Anna laughed, shaking her head. “You realize I was there, correct? I did meet them.”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry,” Kat apologized.

Anna finished putting on her pajamas and went to join Kat on the bed. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad you thought they were cool. Perhaps you can message them in the morning?”

“It might take me some looking,” Kat replied, “but I could probably find them. I might let them follow my private account as well.”

“Sounds like a plan. Bedtime now, alright?” Anna snuggled up in the covers and turned off the lamp. Kat curled up against her, earning a kiss on the head.

“Nighty-night, baby,” Kat said, already half asleep. Anna did not reply, only snored softly.

————————

Zero got up from the floor and stretched. They’d already been awake longer than they should’ve been. They went into their room and put on their pajamas, then went back into the kitchen and said goodnight to Ricky. They grabbed another cookie, their fourth for the night, and laid down in their bed. They turned their phone on and opened Instagram.

God only knows how long they’d be awake.

[newathens]

sally and amphitrite and poseidon iv. i will be honest idk how far this fic will go but it’s been so much fun writing it. i hope you have fun reading it xx—

“Reservation for Jackson.”

The restaurant was cavernous, two levels and a grand staircase, but still warm and welcoming. Candles burned at white-clothed tables. Light-hearted conversation filtered through the air. Low-lighting made everything overtly intimate. Amphitrite’s hand in hers was her focal point as they were led to their table.

Sally smiled behind her menu. They used her name. 

Albeit—the Mist is what got the table. Still, it was the little things. 

“Sally?”

“Hm?” she looked up to find green eyes on her.

“How was work?” Poseidon asked. She tilted her head and arched a brow. He smiled, “You know I care about the mundane human activities, as you refer to it.”

“It was just fine,” she said.

“And Jared?”

“Oh, still a dick.”

“Jared?” Amphitrite asked. Sally leaned forward, dropping her voice even though the chance of eavesdroppers was nonexistent.

“This annoying coworker I have. He’s technically a little higher up than most of us in the department, but we still all work in the same cubicles and eat our bag lunches, so there’s no reason for him to be as arrogant as he is. Also, he’s completely sexist. He hides it, but you can tell.”

Amphitrite hummed in reply and set her eyes downcast.

“Don’t smite him,” Poseidon followed without pause.

“Never without her permission.”

“You say that so casually,” Sally said.

“She’s trigger happy,” he said.

“You’re one to talk, earthshaker.”

The conversation went on from there. Only when the waiter came for their orders did there come a stumble. 

“Oh, she doesn’t eat,” Poseidon said when the man had asked what Amphitrite would be having, then he glanced sideways to Sally. “She never eats. Refuses to, really. Thinks human food is below her.”

The waiter paled and Sally wondered, idly, what he was actually hearing. She smiled sympathetically. Again, the two gods played their staring game but in the end, Amphitrite ordered the salmon and wine. Expensive wine.

“What a dent that’s going to make to our wallet,” he said nonchalantly, but Sally watched how his eyes lingered on her. As if in shock. As if this was unheard of, something Amphitrite would only do once in a thousand years. For a special reason. . . or someone.

Sally didn’t want to be presumptuous, she couldn’t possibly be the one thing that broke a goddess’ eternal fast, so she took a deep breath and kept talking.

.

They laughed and joked and drank as the restaurant rose and fell in busy bouts around them. It felt natural in a way Sally hadn’t often experienced before. Sure, human connection was possible, but growing up without both parents always left the feeling of otherness.

With them, otherness was somewhat a prerequisite of belonging.

She was enthralled—couldn’t get enough of them. They seemed to glow the happier they got, a soft, golden shine that drew your eye to them. And the way their iris’ twinkled, the colors twirling, never quite staying still. The stories they told as if she had been there to witness—thank goodness she had brushed up on mythology or she’d be lost.

It all felt strangely familiar as if there had never been before, only now, and this is what was since the start. A wonderful thing to feel. No wonder she lov—

Sally pulled back. Not that far, she thought, not again.

When the main courses were served, Amphitrite stared at her plate. Even the fork looked foreign in her hand.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Sally said.

“No, I ordered it,” she insisted, though grimaced as the food hit her mouth. A grimace that turned to confusion.

Poseidon laughed behind his palm, which made Sally lift her own to hide a humored smile.

“It’s not. . .the worst thing in this world,” Amphitrite said.

And the longer they ate, the more her fork found their plates as well.

She had come to a decision.

Wine was a dangerous, dangerous drink.

Not because it muddled her senses—they were fine. Not because of loose lips—she kept biting her tongue. But because it made her stare—and for that, she would never forgive it. Together they conversed, caught up in a private matter as she had fallen silent. He tan, broad, raven curls. She lithe, sharp, red. Poseidon had his cuffs rolled up. Amphitrite, the fabric of her neckline, plunged deep down. They smiled back and forth amid small quips, unaware of the madness they drove her towards. The two gods, finally at ease, looking every bit a couple, were radiant.

Radiant. He had called her radiant. 

Poseidon took Sally’s hand across the table as if sensing himself in her thoughts.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she sighed.

“I hope we did not cause you too much stress.”

“No, this was perfect,” a pulse passed between their palms. “It was perfect.” She glanced towards Amphitrite and found the same hard stare pinpointed at their hands. Her heart dropped down the staircase in the middle of the room, porcelain against marble, each clink clink clink echoing in her eardrums. She blinked away the brilliance, “I need some air.”

Amphitrite snapped out of it, “Come, I’ll go with you.” She gestured with her head towards the waiter approaching, which Poseidon caught and nodded in reply, a practiced set that reminded her quite vividly that they were husband and wife.

The goddess’ hand in hers was firm as they left, but it was simple to guide a doe if it was fool enough to believe you.

The frigid air tickled at her skin and she shivered, thoughts sinking into mindless chatter to hide from the cold, shocked when a coat found its way over her shoulders. Not her coat, not a new coat, Amphitrite’s coat.

“My coat,” Sally said.

“Don’t worry, he will bring it.”

Sally drew the fabric closer, running her fingers down its edges. It felt sleek, luxurious—something that was clearly not her own. She spoke suddenly, with fervor, “Will this work? I mean, are you actually okay with this?”

Amphitrite tilted her head, “Excuse me?”

“I saw you staring, earlier and just now. You look so, so angry when he touches me. There’s this burning in your eyes and it—do you hate me?” Sally bit her lip, not yet upset, simply filled with a vibrant adrenaline that kept her heeled feet numb. 

Amphitrite slipped her hands inside the coat, around Sally’s waist, pulling them closer together. Her expression was gentle, almost embarrassed. The red of her hair glowed orange against the golden lights outside. “I do not hate you.”

Sally let out a sigh of relief.

“When I see you two, you have to understand, that was not hatred,” she lifted a hand to Sally’s cheek and slowly, traced the bottom lip with her thumb. “That was, I am—”

“Get on with the show, honey,” a gruff voice split through the moment.

At the end of the carpeted sidewalk, leaning against the pole of a decorative streetlight, stood a man with a cigarette in hand. He was clearly drunk. Rich, noisy, Wall Street.

Amphitrite fumed, a rushed breath escaping through her nose, and Sally slipped a hand around her wrist to distract her, possibly stop her.

But as life had proven before, timing was a bitch.

Poseidon joined them, walking much too confidently, stopping much too close, slipping a hand at the small of her back much too quickly to confuse the three of them for anything other than what they were.

The man laughed, “Oh shit, cheers to you, buddy. Living the dream.”

He understood fully the situation as she slipped her other hand along the collar of his coat. Sally felt very much like the owner of two Dobermans lying in wait for their prey.

“It’s one stupid human,” she tried nonchalantly.

“One too many,” Amphitrite countered.

“I meet douchebags every day and I never kill any of them.”

“Who said anything about kill?” Poseidon asked.

“How sinister,” Amphitrite said.

“Vindictive.”

“Downright evil.”

Sally made a point of looking unamused. Amphitrite pulled her away suddenly, farther from the man, and her nerves uncoiled only to spike again when she noticed Poseidon didn’t follow. Too soon did the goddess whisk her ‘round the corner, slipping into the shadows, away from roaming eyes, where she could not meekly protest.

For truly, it was deserved.

.

Over the centuries, sparse were the tales of sightings of the sea god, because most often, any sailor to witness him seldom survived.

But a small handful knew his real face.

He stepped closer to the human, silent despite the man’s conversation. And with each step, he seemed larger, stronger, more menacing, watching as the conversing died away to nothingness. The man tried for humor, only to lose all nerve and wait as the tense moment inched by, nothing but inches between them.

He could sense the fear of ten men all packed into one. It would satisfy her to keep it alive and so he retreated.

And in that retreat, the man threw out an insult.

The next moment, the human fell to its knees, pulling strings of seaweed straight from its mouth, choking up half the sea with it.

One more body fell into the pile.

.

They ran halfway down the block before stopping short.

“I’m used to tennis shoes,” Sally said and went to ramble until she caught Amphitrite’s gaze, who looked at her with bright eyes. Truly bright, glowing bright. Looking mesmerized and completely unaware, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. As if her husband wasn’t torturing a random human. “What is it—”

Amphitrite took Sally’s face like she had before and kissed her.

An urgent kiss that had her spinning. A quick kiss that turned into kisses. She gripped at the goddess’ blouse for dear life and hoped she wasn’t ruining it. It was a first kiss, one with meaning.

And when they pulled apart, Amphitrite appeared sated. “Jealous,” she said. “That was jealousy.”

“But I’m right here.”

“Don’t ask gods to explain themselves,” Amphitrite said and their laughter intermingled. “You two are so familiar with one another—”

“Well, I would hope so—”

“—and I want to be familiar with you.”

“I thought we already were.”

The goddess tilted her head as if to say but not like that or not enough. Even further, though, Sally realized between the explaining and admittance and pure intention there lay wanting. Desire.

The air was finally clear, it felt, at least, to her. All worries gone, confusion dispersed. She held a secretive smile, one that had Amphitrite opening her mouth, only to be stopped as Sally brought their lips together again.

A bit more forceful this time, enough for them to stumble, closer to the wall, where the cool stone held her steady. The kisses came smooth, like a river, one blending into the next, no end in sight. Hands traced her bodice, free from pretense, eager to please. She welcomed it, returned it. 

The breakaway was instantaneous as a presence arrived, too close to be unaware of.

Poseidon stood a few paces back, both shocked and reserved, somehow. Somehow. In his eyes. It always came back to the eyes.

Amphitrite pulled away.

Sally was left alone, silent against the wall. She watched them play their staring game, but this one held no anger. They stood awkwardly, if a god could do that at all, looking scared, stressed. As if a debate was taking place, discussing the responsibilities and consequences of godly affairs. The nerve-wracking prospect of mingling with mortal beings. The natural way of gods and the livelihoods that were affected because of that.

That was exactly what was happening, she realized. Sally could not muster the reason as to why now, but she knew she was hurtling close to the possibility of losing one of them. Or both.

“I’m cold,” her voice pierced through the tension and snapped them back to reality. Her reality. Poseidon glanced towards her and extended his arm out. The coat hung there, an offering. She pushed off the wall, listened to the echoing click of her heels as she walked toward him, and took it from his palm. Then, without pause, before another beat of silence could pass, she placed herself against his instep, crowded close enough to fall off balance, and kissed him.

A kiss practiced and well-versed, gentle in her palms as they held his jaw, sure in his hands as they kept her steady. A kiss traveling down a path she had been many times before. She halted it a moment too soon, and turned without pulling away. 

Amphitrite caught her eye and joined them, looking almost mesmerized. That couldn’t be though, she couldn’t mesmerize a goddess.

But she had mesmerized a god. Many times. Even now. So why not?

Sally blushed harsh between them, cradled by their presence, bracketed by their arms, borrowed coat heavy on her shoulders. Borrowed coat. She ducked her head.

“Warm now?” he asked.

“Shut up,” she said. The pair laughed and that laughter encircled her and she fell to ease. Whatever the moment could have been was gone. They stayed. They were hers.

“Where to now?” Amphitrite asked. 

“I’m tired.” Her lie lingered amongst them.

“Well,” he shrugged, “To bed then I guess.”

Sally cleared her throat and nodded, “That would probably be best.”

Amphitrite gave a long, languid hum, “Oh, you two are ridiculous,” then pulled Poseidon by his lapel right over her shoulder. The sight of them kissing burned into her corneas as the earth gave way beneath her and they dispersed into a flurry of sea mist.

[holly-hep]

The Beauty of Being Numb | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Index

Chapter Six: Sex Power Couple

(Y/N) goes down the stairs trying not to fall. She has never worn heels before and, even though Grace's shoes had a small heel, she still felt she was going to kill herself with every step. 

-Wow- she hears Klaus-. I don't think I've ever seen you with make-up on. 

-What do you think?- she models for him. 

She's wearing a white dress with some yellow flowers and green leaves. It has a green ribbon at the waist, and she complemented it with a green sweater and white heels. 

-You look beautiful. 

-You look handsome too. 

-The pants are a little tight. 

Five opens the door, interrupting their conversations, and the three of them go to the car, (Y/N) as the pilot. The kid had already given them the necessary information. 

-Okay, so to be clear on the finer details, we just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old parents, correct? 

-Yeah, something like that... Just let (Y/N) do the work. 

-What's our cover story?

-What?

-What are you talking about?- Five frowns. 

-I mean, were we really young when we had you? Like, 16? Like, young and terribly misguided?- he does a dramatic expression. 

-Sure- the kid doesn't pay him much attention. 

-And you and I've been together since High School- he touches (Y/N) upper leg, making her blush-. We met at... Um... The homecoming! Remember that, kiddo. 

Five is not even listening at this point. 

-Oh!- Klaus snaps his fingers-. Oh, my god and the sex was amaaaaaazing. You and I would totally be a sex power couple! 

(Y/N) accidentally steps on the brake and the car come to a sudden stop, almost hitting the one in front of them. Klaus bumps his head on the dash.

-Oh, Klaus, I'm so sorry!- she turns to check on Five-. Are you okay, dearie?

-I'm fine- he is mad-. And don't call me dearie. 

-Klaus, does it hurt?

-No, I'm great. Just be more careful. 

-Yeah, sure, sorry... It's the heels- she's a flustered mess, Klaus words in her head. 

-Like I was saying...

-Klaus, shut up! What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain. 

-Don't make me put you in time-out! 

They arrive at their destination a couple of minutes after and Five's the first to go in. (Y/N) requires some help from Klaus to get out of the car and walk, and as they are about to enter the building, he stops on his tracks. 

-Oh, I was forgetting!- he looks for something in his pockets-. Just one final touch to our disguise. 

He takes her left hand and puts a gold band in her ring finger. It was astonishing: it was engraved with flowers and had small white diamonds every three petals; it had an old-fashioned kind of beauty. Surprisingly, it's just her size, but the one Klaus is wearing looks a little tight. 

-Where did you get these from?- she watches the band in amazement. 

-In Dad's room- she looks at him panicked-. I was looking for something to wear and I found them. Thought it would be a nice touch. 

-Klaus! Are you nuts?- she takes off the ring. 

-Oh, come on! The old man's wife died decades ago and he is dead too. They won't need them anymore- he takes the band from her hand and puts it back in place-. Plus, it looks good on you. 

-Are you sure? 

-C'mon, we don't have time!- Five yells at them. 

-Coming! 

Klaus grins at (Y/N) as he intertwines their hands, walking inside with a wide smile. The receptionist smiles at them, but when she sees Five, it fades. 

-How can I help you?

-We'll like to talk with Doctor Biggs, please- Five speaks in a petulant tone. 

-I recall you already speaking to him in the morning, young man. 

-We just want to offer him an apology for our son's attitude. (Y/N) Hargrevees, a pleasure- she offers her hand, the woman taking it-. And this is my husband, Klaus. 

-Hi.

Taking advantage that she touched her, she starts using her power to make her feel reliant. 

-Oh, of course!- the receptionist picks her phone up-. I'll call him.

-Thanks. 

It takes five minutes for the doctor to show up, with a welcoming, slightly fearful, smile. 

-Welcome to Meritech Prosthetics, I'm Doctor Lance Briggs, how can I serve you? 

-(Y/N) Hargreeves and my husband, Klaus- she offers him her hand, but it's let down when she notices he's wearing gloves. 

-A pleasure... Oh, the gloves- he takes them off but doesn't shake her hand again-. Come into my office, please. 

The four of them get into a white room and take seats. 

-First of all, we'll like to offer an apology for our son's attitude this morning. 

-Oh, it's okay. He's just a young man. 

Five rolls his eyes. 

-Sweetie- (Y/N) grabs him softly by the arm-. Say sorry to the doctor. 

-I'm sorry- he mutters. 

-Apology accepted. 

Klaus is impressed at the way his friend is handling the situation. If it wasn't because he knew her, he would totally think she's someone's mom.

-And now that we have settled that- she adopts a more beguiling position-. My husband and I were wondering if there was any way you could provide us with the name of the owner of the eye. 

-Like I said to your son earlier- he sounded uncomfortable-, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you. 

-Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name- Five's clenching his chin. 

-Well, that's not my problem. 

Five almost hits the desk, making Briggs flinch. 

-Dearie, let me talk- (Y/N) gets Five away from the man.

-Son, come here- Klaus takes Five to his side. 

-You see, doctor Briggs, my son is quite the curious kid. And he's just trying to give the rightful owner their prosthetic back- she finally gets to touch Lance by putting her hand over his, seductively-. I'm sure we can reach an agreement in which all of us are benefited. 

Klaus feels nauseous at the sight of (Y/N) flirting with this man. He hates she's touching him and giving him that provocative smile. Not knowing why, he feels the need to separated them. 

The doctor looks at (Y/N) spellbound and nods. She's about to order him to tell her the name when Klaus distracts her.

-And what about our consent?- Briggs is caught off guard.

-Excuse me?

-Honey- (Y/N) is confused-. What are you doing? 

-Who gave you permission...- Klaus starts fake crying-, to lay your hands on my son? 

-Dad- Five tries to stop him. 

-What?- Lance is lost. 

-You heard me- Klaus ignores all of them. 

-I didn't touch your son. 

-Oh, really?- Klaus notices (Y/N) hand is still on his. He gets frantic-. Well, then how did he get that swollen lip, then? 

-He doesn't have a swollen... 

Without a second thought, Klaus slaps his brother across the face. (Y/N) and the doctor gasp, and she lets go of his hand, kneeling beside Five and taking his face between her hands. Klaus smiles satisfied. 

-Oh my god! Are you okay, dearie?- the kid just grunts. 

-I want it. Name, please. Now- Klaus says in a singing voice as he rests his hands on the desk. 

-You're crazy- Lance looks at him startled. 

Klaus chuckles. 

-You got no idea! 

-Excuse my husband, he had too many drinks at lunch.

(Y/N) tries to fix the situation. She walks to the doctor, putting her hand in his shoulder and smiling coquettishly again. 

-Oh, "Peace on Earth"- Klaus takes a snowball from the desk. He just wants (Y/N) to stop touching him-. That's so sweet. 

And before the terrified gaze of his "wife" and the doctor, he smashes the crystal ball against his forehead. (Y/N) screams as Klaus grunts in pain, and Five stares perplexed. 

-God, that hurt! 

-Klaus, you're bleeding!

She gets close to him to check on the wound, slipping with the water and crystals on the floor. The girl falls backward, hitting her head hard, some crystals cutting her skin. 

-Oh, love- Klaus is quick at picking her up. 

-I'm calling securi...- Four takes the phone away from Lance-. What are you doing? 

Klaus grins at Briggs 

-There's been an assault in Mr. Big's office and we need security, now!- he sounds distressed-. He attacked my son and me, and injured my wife. Shnell! (Hurry!) 

-Why are you speaking German, bescheuer? (stupid)- (Y/N) is holding her head.

Klaus throws the phone to the ground and sights. Five looks at his brother proudly. 

-Now, here's what's gonna happen, Grant. 

-It's... Lance. 

-In about sixty seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they're gonna wonder, "What the hell happened?" And we're gonna tell them that you...- he changed to a dramatic voice-, beat the shit out of us, including my wife. 

He sobs dramatically. 

-You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I've been there. A little piece of chicken like you. Oh, my God, you're gonna get passed around like a...- he moves his hips suggestively-. You're just... You're gonna do great! That's all I'm saying. 

-Jesus, you are a real sick bastard- Briggs looks at (Y/N), who is standing next to Five. 

-Thank you- Klaus spits. 

Shacking, the doctor gets up to go look for the information. He returns seconds later with a folder and a disconcerted look. 

-Oh, that's strange. 

-What?- Five's on edge. 

-Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet. 

-What do you mean?- Klaus gets near the folder and Lance shudders. 

-Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number... This can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye? 

Five just sights and goes straight to the elevator, Klaus following him. (Y/N) starts walking towards them when Lance stops her by the hand: 

-Hey, ma'am, listen... If you need help, tell me and I'll call the cops- he looks at Klaus with concerned-. Fellows like your husband normally end up causing tragedies. 

-Oh, thanks- she gets away from him-. But I'm fine, really. Sorry for the inconvenience. 

She catches up with her "family" at the elevator just before the doors close.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Bad Night

Summary: The reader has a bad day that only continues to get worse until things reach a breaking point...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,900ish

Warnings: language, angst

A/N: Takes place two years after the end of A Place To Call Home...

“Hi, Y/N,” said JJ when you got home from your group presentation. She was in her soccer uniform and you threw your head back. You’d promised you’d go to her first game of the season and of course you missed it. “Mom said school probably went long.”

“Long’s a word for it,” you grumbled, padding into the kitchen, stealing a banana off the counter. You paused, turning around with a smile. “I’ll try to make your game next week. I had a group project today and it ran late.”

“S’okay,” she said. “College is super hard.”

“Yeah, it is. But I’m almost all done so I’ll have more time to hang out soon,” you said with a smile. "So you guys win or what?”

“No. But I got a goal,” she said.

“Hey, that’s great! When I was little, we didn’t use to win all the games either,” you said.

“But you stopped playing when you were only like a year older than me,” she said.

“True. But stuff was a little different for me than you,” you said.

“You know…” she trailed off, coming around the counter, climbing on top of it. “You said someday when I’m bigger you’d tell me about when you didn’t have a family.”

“You’re a little too little JJ,” you said.

“You’ve been saying that since I was five,” she said.

“How about when you’re taller than dad, then I’ll tell you,” you teased.

“Argh,” she grumbled, hopping off the counter.

“Someday, JJ. I promise,” you said, giving her a hug. You kissed the top of her head, JJ looking up at you.

“Are you okay?” she asked. You hummed and nodded, patting her back.

“Go practice your dribbling while I harass the other dorks,” you said. “Where are the twins anyways? The house is a little quiet for those two.”

“Hide and go seek,” she said.

“Where’s mom?” you asked.

“Store,” she said.

“You’re only ten, kiddo. She left you guys-”

“Boo!” you heard shouted right behind you. You jumped, screamed and shot your leg back, connecting with something. “Fuck.”

You spun around, spotting Jensen on the ground in the middle of the kitchen floor, holding his middle.

“Oh my…” you said, running your hands over your face.

“I should be mad,” he squeaked out. “But this is what I get for that self-defense class, isn’t it.”

“I thought you couldn’t come home this weekend. Everybody’s going up to grandma and grandpa’s,” you said.

“Mom and I thought we’d surprise you,” he said, getting up to his feet. “We thought maybe you and I could hang out here this weekend. It’s been awhile since we hung out.”

“I’m 22, dad. Hanging out with my dad isn’t…” you trailed off, shaking your head when you saw his face start to fall. “I um...I’m sorry, that was rude. Of course we can hang out.”

“You okay, kiddo?” he asked softly.

“I asked that too. She said she was fine,” said JJ.

“Uh huh,” said Jensen, biting his bottom lip. You washed up your hands and excused yourself to your room, changing into some sweats, getting a knock at the door a minute later. You rolled your eyes, a knock coming again before the door started to open.

“I’m changing!” you shouted, shoving it back closed. You sighed as you opened the door a minute later, Jensen standing there with crossed arms. “What?”

“You’re a little snippy today, don’t you think?” he said.

“I have another final to head to. Just a tad bit stressed,” you said, picking up your backup and slinging it over your shoulder.

“You just got home,” he said.

“I came home to change out of those stuffy clothes, that’s it. I’ll be home later,” you said.

“Alright. Well text me when you’re heading back so I can order us some dinner,” he said.

“Sure,” you said, fishing your car keys from your backpack, your dad rolling his eyes. “Can I go or do I need permission to leave the house again?”

“Go take your test. Good luck,” he said, holding up his hands.

“Thank you,” you said, giving the twins a quick hug on the way out.

To say your day had gone from bad to worse was a bit of an understatement. Your shitty group project and actually taking your final had turned out to be the best part of it somehow. You never realized until you pulled in the driveway that you forgot to text Jensen about dinner.

“Great. He’ll be pissed,” you grumbled. You ditched your bag in your bedroom, finding him in the family room, munching on a piece of pizza. “You got food?”

“It’s nine. I was hungry and I figured you were getting dinner with your friends,” he said.

“Well I didn’t,” you shot back, going to the fridge and peeling open the pink tupperware container. “Who the fuck took my spaghetti?”

“De did when she took the kids to my parents and what the fuck is going on with you today?” he said, hopping up from the couch. You slammed the fridge shut and brushed him off, trying to head for your room when he blocked the way. “Y/N.”

“Don’t,” you said. He scoffed and crossed his arms. “Let me-”

“No. Something is going on and you’re talking to me about it one way or the other,” he said.

“I’m an adult. I don’t have to tell you shit,” you said.

“You live in my house in case you forgot. I want…” he trailed off as you took a step away. “Y/N. I didn’t mean…”

“You’re right. S’your house,” you said quietly, heading for the front door. “S’all yours.”

“Kiddo,” he said. You quickly slipped on your shoes before he caught up and were out the door. You didn’t get more than a few steps out from under the covered porch before you felt a pair of arms around you. “You do not run away from us. You promised me.”

“I’m having a really bad day,” you breathed out, ducking your head down. He spun you around and pulled you into his chest, shushing you when you felt the tears start to fall. “I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to talk when I feel like this.”

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.

“Like you’d be better off without me,” you said, trying to burrow your face in him for a moment. You quickly tried to move away though, his arms not giving an inch. “Just get rid of me.”

“Never,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t know what I’d do without my tall munchkin.”

“Just let me…” you trailed off, pushing against him for a few seconds, his arms steadying you before you just started absolutely bawling.

“Sh,” he shushed, bending down for a moment and then your feet were off the ground, wrapped around the small of his back. He carried you back inside as you clung to him, walking you around shushing you like he used to when the twins were toddlers.

“I’m not a baby,” you croaked, crying harder. “Get rid of me.”

“Stop saying that, Y/N Ackles. Over my dead body and not even then. I thought I told you. It’s my job to protect you,” he said.

“No it’s not,” you whined. “You think I’m the pathetic girl with the dead parents. You wish you never met me. You probably wish that car crash did a better job on me.”

He immediately carried you into his room and sat you down on the bed, bending down in front of you. He was crying. You’d never seen him cry except on TV before and that one time mom asked you to take the kids to the park for a few hours.

It was your fault. Another thing you screwed up today.

“I love you. I love you so much, honey. If I could go back and fix it all for you and give you back your parents and take away all of that pain I would, I would do it in a heartbeat. Even if I never got to see you again or give you a hug or have you roll your eyes at me, I would do anything for you, sweetie. Even if it hurt me. Even if it destroyed me and that would, it would, but you’d be happy and that’s all I want for you. But I can’t go back and make it better,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You bit your bottom lip, staring at your lap when he peeled off your sneakers. You glanced up at him, watching him toss them aside.

“Why don’t you hate me?” you breathed out.

“Because I love you,” he said. He sat up on the bed, pulling you to sit in his lap and you felt like a child, unable to look him in the face. “I wish you were never in that accident in the first place. I wish you’ve never been that hurt or scared. I love you. I love you, kiddo. I will love you forever.”

“No you won’t,” you mumbled, turning into his shoulder again, letting out another sob when he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

If he spoke again, you couldn’t hear him over your crying. You felt tired when you finally opened your eyes again, Jensen humming a song, still keeping his arm wrapped around you. You lifted your head, a smile on his face.

“There she is. Tuckered yourself out with all that,” he said. You sat up some more, getting a headache but catching that the clock said it was almost eleven. You went to leave when his hand caught your wrist. “No. You are going to do what I say right now, okay?”

You nodded wearily, following him out of bed and into their bathroom.

“Clean yourself up while I go get some pajamas for you,” he said. He was back faster than you expected, one of his shirts and a pair of your mom’s pajama shorts in his arms when he returned. “I’ll be right outside. Have some water to drink too, sweetie.”

Your head hurt and you gulped down some water first. That relieved a bit of the tension. But your face was a wreck. Eyes puffy and red, so many tear tracks down your face it looked like a salt scrub. You filled up the sink with warm water and tried to wipe yourself off, pulling off your shirt and cleaning up where the tears had stained your neck and chest too.

After you changed, you exited the room and found your favorite blanket on top of the bed, Jensen in his pajamas too.

“You need some sleep,” he said, patting the one side.

“In here? With you?” you asked quietly.

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight,” he said.

“Why,” you asked.

“I’m scared you’ll run away on me and I’ll never see you again,” he said.

Somehow your body still had the ability to create tears as you slid under the covers. He climbed on top and used a blanket for himself, scooting over closer when you tried to hide away under the pillows.

“We need to talk before you go to sleep,” he said.

“About what?” you mumbled.

“About whatever is going on,” he said.

“I had a bad day,” you said.

“I have seen you have bad days. This is old school, you were afraid to even let me touch you, Y/N behavior. What’s-”

“Dad, can we please talk about this in the morning? Please. I’m so tired,” you said, moving the pillow away. Your puppy dog eyes must have worked because he nodded. You rolled onto your side, feeling a hand against your back lightly.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m crying again, alright?” you said.

“Alright,” he said. It didn’t take long for you to give in and roll into his chest. “Alright. Dad’s got you. You’ll be okay.”

You woke up around four in the morning, blinking a few times before you noticed your dad was awake and staring at the ceiling.

“Dad?” you whispered.

“You should get some sleep, honey. We can talk in the morning,” he said.

“Why are you up?” you asked.

“Thinking,” he said quietly.

“Dad.”

“You’re not going back to sleep, are you,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” you said. He sighed and sat up, flipping on his bedside lamp before he sat back against the headboard.

“No. I’m sorry I-”

“You think this is your fault when it’s mine so just stop,” you said, staring up at him. You sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Just stop.”

“I’m your father. I don’t just stop when I see my daughter hurting,” he said.

“Maybe if you stopped being perfect for one minute you’d have an easier time,” you said. You got out of the bed and headed across the room, nearly to the kitchen when you felt him right on your heels. “Oh, leave me alone. I’m an adult. You can’t make me do anything.”

“Oh, you’re an adult. I see. Remember when I told you adults have feelings too?” he said.

“Get lost,” you said, storming over to the hall to your room.

“Did I scare you?” he called, freezing you in your tracks. You turned away, spotting him with closed eyes by the kitchen counter. “It was just a joke, earlier. It was stupid. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I told you. I will never ever hurt you. I’m sorry. If you want me to leave or to call mom or whatever then okay, we’ll do it. But don’t walk out on us because I screwed up.”

“It has nothing to do with that,” you said, shaking your head. “Go back to bed.”

“Then talk,” he said. “No more attitude. You are sweet and kind and good. You’re better than me, that’s for damn sure. You’re scared and hiding and I know all of the signs. It’s just been awhile since I’ve seen them.”

“How about you start with the fact I’m a failure. How the hell don’t you see that?” you asked. He walked over and pulled you over to the couch, giving you a hug.

“Because it’s not true. Did you fail a class or a final? Sweetheart, it’s okay if you did. It’s not the end of the world,” he said.

“I didn’t fail anything,” you said.

“Then what.”

“I found out today I didn’t get the job at the firm downtown I really wanted to get into,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, giving you a smile. “But it’s-”

“One of the kids in my group project did. He’s an idiot and he got it because his uncle works there,” you said. “So that was shitty but I was dealing with it. Then I went to my other final and I was getting some weird looks but I brushed it off and apparently I’m just the dumb girl the rich people felt sorry for, for years, but I couldn’t even pay my way into getting a job at the firm. So I left as soon as I could and went over to TJ’s and he told me I was overreacting which I knew I was but I needed to vent but he kept brushing me off and he had a final so I left and went to the student center to talk to the career counselor and he told me all the other positions I put in for had been filled up too and it’s graduation next week and I don’t have a job lined up and most of my ‘friends’ are assholes and you wasted so much time and money sending me to school when I should have just gone and waited tables or something and just...you just wasted so much on me and I can’t give it back and I missed JJ’s game and I yelled at Zepp yesterday for playing too loud when I was studying but he’s just a little kid and I shouldn’t have yelled at him and I don’t want him to be scared of me and it sounds so fucking stupid to say it out loud and I just want to run away and stop bothering you guys and let you focus on the actual non fucked up kids that are your real ones and not this reject that no one wants and…”

“Sh,” he said, pulling you into his chest. “Sh. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” you said, crying against him again.

“I was expecting a completely different answer to be honest. You don’t remember what tonight is, do you?” he asked. You lifted your head up, shaking it at him. “It was twelve years ago, the accident. You did this a few years ago too. You got nightmares all week long. You were scared you were letting us down, letting your parents down. You think you’re doing that again based on everything you just said.”

“I shouldn’t-”

“What did I say? I’m in this for the long haul, kiddo. You’re ours and we’re yours. A job is just a job,” he said. “I love how driven you are, I do. But that standard you hold yourself to? It’s too high, honey. You are human. You are 22. Trust me. You’re the prime age for the whole ‘what the fuck am I doing with my life’ to hit you hard. It’ll happen when you’re older too. The biggest secret of being an adult? We don’t have a clue what we’re doing. But if you’re good and kind and you work hard, odds are it’ll turn out in your favor. But you have to relax a little too.”

“...but you moved out when you were-”

“I have had a very different life than you. Don’t ever compare your life to someone else’s. Just live your own. You can stay here forever if you want. You will never be kicked out. We’ll never be disappointed in you for not getting your dream job. And Zepp knows he is not supposed to be bothering you when you’re studying and JJ understands why you missed her game. I seriously doubt you ‘yelled’ at him either. You’ve been watching over him like a hawk ever since the blanket incident.”

“He’s my little brother. I’m supposed to. I watch all of them like that,” you said. He smiled, kissing your cheek.

“I know. You’re an amazing big sister,” he said. “Hell of a lot better than I was to my kid sister.”

“JJ’s asking about before I came here again,” you said.

“Do I need to talk to her?” he asked.

“I don’t think she’s old enough to know,” you said.

“It’s your decision to tell her or not. It always has been. But I will say this. She’s ten in a few weeks. You were ten when it happened. She might be more ready than you think,” he said.

“I don’t want her to look at me like she feels sorry for me,” you said. “And she is just a kid. There is screwed up stuff that happened to me and that I saw. I don’t want her to be afraid.”

“Then you wait until you think she’s old enough,” he said. “She loves you. She understands things were different for you. Plus you take her to get ice cream so she loves you more than anyone in this house.”

“Dad,” you said, shifting in your seat. “I’m sorry for tonight and yesterday. I...I don’t know why I got so scared and upset. I mean I do but I know you love me and a job doesn’t matter to you.”

“It’s called a bad day, honey. We all get ‘em. And uh, why don’t you send Mr. TJ over here so I can tell him how you talk to a woman when she’s feeling down cause whatever he said, that wasn’t it,” he said.

“He had a final to go to,” you said.

“Uh huh. Still. Not exactly a stellar boyfriend move,” he said.

“Maybe he was just being a little human,” you said.

“Eh, it’s a good thing I like that kid,” he said. “You ditch me on our weekend together for him though and he’s dead to me.”

“Spoken like a true father,” you said.

“That’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me,” he said. You rolled your eyes, glancing at him a moment.

“What’s the sweetest?” you asked.

“That paper you wrote on me a few semesters ago? Bawled like a baby,” he said.

“Wait. Was that the day mom kicked us out of the house cause you…” you asked, his head nodding. “My paper did that? I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t bad crying. It was just...you settled some fears I had that day, ones you don’t know about that,” he said.

“Dad,” you said. He hummed, watching you wipe off your face for a minute before you smiled and gave him a hug. “I can’t guarantee that I won’t get scared again. I feel silly after because I know I have a family now and you guys love me. But I don’t want you to ever be scared that I don’t love you. I do. I’m never afraid of you. You aren’t a replacement and you’re not dad #2 or second dad or anything. I had a dad and I miss him. I miss him a lot sometimes. But I have another dad and I think he’d be really proud of you too for sticking with me and giving me a dad again. I think they really would have liked you guys.”

“Never mind. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said,” he said. You were both quiet for a few minutes until you started to yawn. “Let’s head back to bed. We’re getting up early. Going fishing.”

“Oh yay,” you sighed, standing and following him to his room. He started to laugh, shaking his head when plopped down on the mattress. “What?”

“Nothing, goofball. Sleep tight,” he said.

“Dad?” you asked.

“Yeah, kiddo?” he said, laying back down.

“There’s a spider on the wall,” you said. He chuckled and got up, grabbing a tissue before he dealt with it. “Thanks.”

“You know someday when you move out, you’ll have to kill those on your own,” he said.

“TJ can do it,” you said. He laughed, ruffling your hair when he sat again. “Night dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

A/N: Check out The Boyfriend timestamp here!

[charliesshitposts]

Supernatural Omens (part two)

The nice and inaccurate prophecies of someone.somewhere about something that never happened. A fan fiction.

Warnings: None. :) Feel free to read this in front of your family and pets.

Word Count: Idk but it will probably take you 20-30 minutes to read. Maybe less. This chapter is much shorter than the first one,I think.

_______________________________________________________________________

  Jack, once on the other side of the portal, felt sick to his stomach. He collapsed onto the floor behind Crowley’s chair. His groans weren’t heard from the boys. They were to busy complimenting Crowley on how nice his apartment was.Crowley didn't see him either as he was too busy proudly thanking them. But Aziraphale did notice.

  Once the boy collapsed the angel rushed to his aid.He laid Jack on his back and ever so slightly leveled him up. He laid his free hand over Jack’s stomach and said “Don’t worry. I’ll fix you right up. You wont feel a thing.” Within seconds Jack was sat upright feeling much better. He looked at Aziraphale in surprise.

  “I do feel better.”he stated.”Thank you. I guess angels everywhere have the same gift.”

  Aziraphale smiled widely.”You’re welcome.I guess we do. Jack, is it?”

  Jack nodded.”Yes sir.”

  Dean,Sam,Cas and Crowley gathered around them. Sam looked down at Jack worriedly. “What happened?”

  “My stomach was hurting.”He explained while the angel helped him to his feet.”But Aziraphale made it go away.” 

  “Thank you for helping him.” Dean said.”Now too business. What's our next move?”

  “Well-”Began Aziraphale.”We don’t really have a next move. But until we think of something I think it’s best if we split up. I’ll take Sam and Jack here back to my book shop. Dean,you and Castiel stay with Crowley. That is assuming he wants company.”

  “No I do I do.”Replied Crowley.”It’ll be fun. Dean here looks like he could use a drink. What will it be,Dean? Wine? Whisky?”

  “Neither.” Dean replied.

  “Well we’ll find something that peaks your interest. And Castiel. What will you be having?”

  “Nothing.”Said Cas.”I don’t eat either.”  

  “Alrighty well I’m sure we’ll be fine.Go on now Aziraphale. Keep in touch.”

  “We will.”answered the angel. “I’m just going to need your house phone to call a Taxi.”

  “By all means darling,go ahead.” After the Taxi arrived Sam,Jack and Aziraphale left for the book shop.Later Jack would tell Dean how beautiful he thought The United Kingdom was. The people he met were incredibly nice too.He liked the buildings and parks in particular. Especially the parks with duck ponds.

  Crowley grabbed two more chairs and brought them to his desk. He asked Dean what his alcoholic drink of preference was. When Dean replied with ‘beer’, Crowley thought of it as a rather bland drink, thus thinking that Dean was a rather bland person.But remembering what Aziraphale had taught him about what to do when he had company, he swallowed his comments.

  Cas had gotten into the habit of opening Deans beers for him. It started out as something nice he occasionally did but later on became a habit. Cas didn’t mind. Neither did Dean.  The seraph popped the bottle cap off and handed it over to his favorite human. Dean took a swig and smiled.

  The three strangers sat in silence for a long time. Crowley looked from Dean to Cas. He racked his brain trying to think of something to talk about. But he suddenly remembered he needed to take care of something. He rose from his chair and excused himself for a moment. “I need to check on my house plants.” He didn’t wait for them to answer. As he walked towards his house plants he grabbed a spray bottle off a table by the doorway.

Once alone, Cas let out a huge sigh.”Things seem fine so far.”

  “See.”Dean smiled.”Look, i’m going to be honest with you. When I first met Crowley I thought the same thing you did. Heck, I still do. But Aziraphale trusts him. That should be enough for us to trust him too.”

  “It’s partly that but..theres something else thing too.”Dean leaned in to persuade Cas to continue talking.”He scares me.” The Seraph admitted.”He’s probably the first creature we meet who's ever scared me. I can’t look him in the eyes without shaking. Without feeling weak or naked,even.I don’t know what it is.”

Dean was about to open his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of rumbling leaves. From the corridor they could hear Crowley threaten his house plants. The realization that the plants were terrified of the demon made Cas’ skin crawl. They watched as Crowley strode back to where they were.”You gentleman are more than welcome to turn on the television. The remote is right there on the desk. I just need to do something. Then I’ll be with you.” Crowley walked with his whole body. Meaning that when his feet moved,his hips move too. So did his arms. Even his head leaned back a little to give the walk style. Castiel raised his eyebrows, somewhat impressed. Dean clicked away at the remote.

“The only thing on right now is the news.”

“Leave it on.” Castiel Said.”Maybe they’ll say something interesting.”

“Alright. If you consider how to make a 3 layered chocolate fudge cake interesting.”

“As a matter of fact I do. I’ve been thinking of getting into baking.”

Dean smiled thoughtfully. “You could make me pies.”

Castiel smiled.”I could make you pies.”

Crowley came to meet them. He held an empty pot in his hand.”Sorry about that boys. If I don’t yell at them they’ll never learn. What are we watching?”

“The news.” Dean said.”It’s in a baking segment.”

“Ah I see.” The phone suddenly ringing made the three jump.”I’ll get it boys. You keep watching the baking show.” Crowley picked up the receiver.”Talk to me baby.” After a few minutes agreeing and disagreeing he hung up and turned to Dean and Castiel.”Time for a road trip fellas. Have any of you ever been to an ex convent?”

—————————————————————————————————————

“Your brother,the boy and Aziraphale will be there too. They’re taking a taxi to meet with us.”

“Good.” Dean nodded.”You’re car is really nice. What kind is it?”

“A 1926 Bentley. This car is my pride and joy. Well it shares my pride and joy with my flat.”

Dean looked at Crowley with admiration.”I know the feeling. Our bunker may not mean a lot to me but my car does.”

“What do you drive?”

“A 1967 Chevy Impala.”

“The Impala is an excellent car model. It goes fast but you can’t feel it.”

“I can feel it.” Cas chimed in. He sat in the backseat holding for his dear life. Crowley was going 100 miles in downtown London. Cas was surprised they hadn’t hit anyone. Dean looked sympatheticly at the Seraph. Crowley picked up the conversation again.

“Music?”

“Sure. What do you have in here to listen to?”

“Guns n’ Roses. AC/DC. Bon Jovi.”

“Guns n’ Roses it is.” They continued their chat with Welcome to the Jungle playing lowly on the radio.

___________________________________________________________________

Aziraphale anxiously checked his watch. It was very unlike Crowley to be late or to arrive somewhere before he did. At the rate he drived Crowley was always early. Sam swayed back and forth on his feet next to the angel. He was worried about Dean and Castiel. And at Sams feet sat Jack. Aziraphale had given him permission to take a book to read along the way. He planned on giving it to him as a gift later on. Jack had picked Sherlock Holmes. He sat oblivious,submerged into the pages of the book.

“It’s very unlike him to be late.” Aziraphale said.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be here.” Sam assured. As if on cue the black Bentley came into view. Sam and Aziraphale sighed in relief.

The car stopped at the curb where they were waiting. Crowley came out and was greeted by an upset Aziraphale. His arms were crossed against his chest.

“Can you explain why you’re late?!” The angel asked.

Crowley wrapped an arm around Aziraphale.”Aw come on now don’t be so sour. I’m here aren’t I? The traffic in central London is hectic.”

“Yeah.” Dean said.”We needed to slow down because Cas was getting vertigo.”

“I didn’t know Cas could get vertigo.”

“Neither did I. So why are we here?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat.”Right. I’m sure Crowley told you that this place used to be a convent/hospital.The son of the antichrist was switched with another baby here. The family he was placed in wasn’t the one we were taking care of all these years. We hope that someone here kept the hospital birth records. If we can access them we can look for the records for the exact day and year he was born in. We find that,we find the parents and we find the boy.”

“That’s brilliant.” Castiel said.

“Thank you.” Smiled Aziraphale.”Shall we?”

The six of them walked through th courtyard and into the building. Most of the hallways were empty,which made things much easier for them. Castiel kept both his hands on Jacks shoulders to steer him while he read. He worried that if he didn’t do so Jack could hit a wall. Or walk into a different hallway and get caught. Sam looked at Aziraphale.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Sam asked.

Crowley answered for the angel.”I know it’s going to work.”

“Okay...but I mean you have a backup plan in case this doesn’t work?”

“Nope. Because i know this is going to work.”

“You can’t be so cocky Crowley. What if it doesn’t.”

“It will.”

“But What if it doesn’t?”

Crowley growled. Through clenched teeth he said.”It will.”

“But-“

“Sammy.” Dean warned.

Sam looked at his brother.”All im saying is-“ Sam was cut off when Crowley grabbed him from his collar and pulled him in. They’re faces were inches apart.Crowley hissed.

“Listen to me boy. I can be easy going if you don’t test me. If I were you i’d find my place and stay put. You really don’t want to see me when I’m mad.”

“You don’t scare me.” Sam smirked.

Crowley glared. Aziraphale walked over to break up the fight but was caught off guard when Crowley’s head turned into a snakes head. He hissed terribly loud in Sams face. All the color in the younger Winchester’s face drained,leaving him pale white. Dean,Jack and Castiel all had the same reaction. They stepped back a few feet. Aziraphale didn’t flinch.

“Now was that really necessary?”Aziraphale scolded.

“Yes it was.” Crowley said,now back to normal.”And that goes for each of you. Know your place.”

  Aziraphale rolled his eyes. He turned his attention to the four who accompanied them.”I hope he didn't; startle you too much.”

  Dean smiled.”Nah we’re okay. Sam and I have both seen the devils actual face. By this point nothing scares us.”

  “Yeah.”Sam said. He was now standing next to his brother.

  A woman dressed nicely walked up the hallway towards them. As she drew closer she asked if they needed help with anything. Crowley turned and said “Yes actually we do.”

  “We’ll i’ll be happy to..oh dear! It’s Master Crowley.”she turned to leave but a snap of Crowley’s fingers made her freeze. She involuntarily turns around. The boys, the seraph and the nephilim watch Crowley and Aziraphale interrogate her.

  “Would you mind answering a few questions, love?”

  “Yes.”replied the woman, who was under a trance.

  “Very well.”The Demon began.”Were you or were you not a nun here a few years ago?”

  “Yes. My name was Sister Loquacious.”

  “Ah yes I remember. Were you here during the night of the switch between the a  baby and the antichrists son?” 

  “Yes. I was.”

  “Excellent.” said Aziraphale.”Did you by any chance save the birth records before the convent was shut down?”

  “Sadly no.” Said Mrs. Loquacious.”All of those files were lost in the fire. Oddly the fire started the same night we were all let go. As if someone said they no longer needed the convent and everything inside of it.”

  “DAMMIT!” shouted Crowley. “DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!” 

  “Thank you very much ma’am.”Aziraphale said. He snapped his fingers, pulling her out of the trance. By the time she assimilated what had happened, the six were already gone.

________________________________________________________________

  The car ride home wasn’t pleasant. Crowley wouldn’t stop complaining about his bad luck. The boys were actually impressed with Aziraphale. Crowley would cuss and shout but Aziraphale would always respond to him calmly. Thanks to him the car ride was tolerable.It was also thanks to him that the car now had enough room for everyone. Sam,Dean and Was road in the middle. Jack rode in the extension back seat behind them. Aziraphale had whipped it up with a simple eye blink.

  The angel and the demon were so distracted by their conversation that they didn't notice the bike rider coming towards them. 

  “I need a good long bath followed by a nap to help me get over all this disappointment. Is there any chance you can house Castiel and Dean tonight?”

  “I was going to offer anyway. There’s plenty of space where I live to accommodate them.”

  “Good.” Crowley sighed loudly.”I still don’t see a silver lining in our situation.”

  “How about we play music to help with the stress. Sound good boys.”

  “I wouldn’t mind listening to the rest of that Guns n’ Roses album.” Dean said.”Let’s just try not to play it so loudly. Sam and Jack are asleep.”

  “Okay. Just press that button right there Aziraphale.” Crowley pointed to the button he was talking about. In that second he took his eyes off the road.

  “CROWLEY WATCH OUT!” Castiel screamed. But it was too late. The front of the Bentley struck the bike rider. She was thrown a few feet away into the grass. Aziraphale and Castiel ran out to aid her. She groaned as Aziraphale lifted up her wrist.It was broken.

  “Ah ah.”Aziraphale warned.”Try not to move sweetheart. You’ll only make it worse. I’ll fix that up right away.” The second she could move her wrist she gasped in surprise.

  “How did you do that?” She asked.

  “No time for that. Let us help you to your feet.”

  Castiel held her steady by the elbow.”Does anything else hurt,miss?”

  “No. My head hurts a little but i’ll be okay.”

  “Let us give you a ride home.”  Aziraphale offered.

  “That would be great, thank you.”

  From inside the Bentley Crowley protested.”Nope.No no way.”

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s just having a bad day.Get inside now. Watch your head” She helped her into the car.She took a seat next to Jack.

  “Aziraphale.” said Castiel.”Her bike. It wont fit in the car.”

  “It will fit in the bike rack.”

  “What bike rack?” The bicycle disappeared from in front of Crowley. It was now safe placed on the back of the Bentley in a bike rack that hadn’t been there before. Both the angel and the seraph got back into the car. When they asked the girl where too she gave directions to her house in a village not that far away. They road in silence. It was at this moment that the girl placed the book on the floor by her feet. She didn’t realize it then, but there was another book right next to hers.

  The car pulled around the side of her house, stopping at her gate. When she stepped out of the car her bike was already against the fence of her house. She thanked the strange men for the lift, reached in and grabbed what she thought was her book, and closed the door. The car drove off without a glance.

  ________________________________________________________________   Crowley was kind enough to leave them in front of Aziraphale’s book shop. This place doubled as the angels home. Not that Aziraphale slept or anything. In the back room where his personal belongings were,the angel had set up mattresses on the floor. He felt absolutely ashamed of it.

“I do apologize for this last minute set up. I don’t own a bed frame. And if I were to whip 3 up there will be no space for us to walk.”

“No it’s okay.” Castiel smiled.”What you’ve done is really nice.”

“Yeah.” Dean said.”I like it. They look comfy. It kinda looks like a sleep over.”

Sam would have agreed but he was already asleep in his mattress. The warm blankets wrapped around him. Jack was sitting upright on his mattress having a panic attack. Aziraphale looked at him worriedly.”Everything okay,son?”

“No.” Said Jack as he stood up and walked towards the angel.”No everything isn’t fine. This book isn’t my book. My book was Sherlock Holmes. Not this. I lost it Aziraphale. I lost your book. I’m so so so sorry! I’ll pay for it. I’ll find a way to get money and pay for it. I’m really sorry-“

“Hey hey whoa.” The angel put his hands firmly on Jacks shoulder.”You don’t owe me anything. I was going to give you that book as a present. This book that you have was probably unintentionally switched. It belongs to the young woman we gave a ride to tonight. You didn’t meet her because you were sleeping. Here.” He took the book out of Jacks hands.”I’ll mail this back to her in the morning. By now she probably knows the book she has isn’t hers. She seemed kind enough,perhaps she’ll return it to my mailing address.If not then I will let you have any other book in my shop free of charge. It’s quite alright son. Don’t worry about it a second more. Now go to sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

Jack thanked the angel plenty. He hugged him before turning and getting under the blankets. Next to him Dean and Sam slept soundly. Aziraphale turned to Castiel and whispered.”Care for some hot cocoa?”

“I don’t..I..” Castiel gave in.” I would love some.”

“Let’s go talk in another room so the boys can sleep properly. They need there rest for tomorrow.”

Castiel followed Aziraphale out into the main bookshop entrance. It suddenly dawned on the angel that he didn’t see what book Sherlock Holmes had been switched with. He lifted the book to eye level and read the front cover. There was a catch in his breath. Lowly he whispered.”On dear god.” When the Seraph asked what was wrong, Aziraphale said nothing. Instead,he showed Castiel the front cover of the book. “The nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter.”

“Our answer is in here.” Aziraphale breathed out. A smile creeping on his face.

** authors note**

There might be typos. I’ll fix that tomorrow (: enjoy! And stay tuned for part 3.

[starkatana]

I Want You (Part 2)

~Part 1~

Summary:

Your mom stops by to visit and makes a deal.

Angst

Dabi x Reader

Note:

I was in the mood to write something angsty, so using this prompt list by @gvgvdans . I tried my best to incorporate most of them into the story.

Also I listened to a lot of Alison Wonderland when writing this!

I Want U – Alison Wonderland

Hope you enjoy it!

The next day, you arrive at the coffee shop at the time your mom agreed on. Going inside, you see that your mom is talking to someone at the table.

“Hi, mom.”

“Honey! Good, you're here! This is Greg." She gestures to him across the table. "Greg, this is my daughter that I've been telling you all about!”

“Hi, I've heard so much about you.” he gets up and extends a hand to you.

“Hello.” You shake it a bit confused.

“Your mom showed me your pictures, but they don't do you justice.”

“Uhm?”

“Please sit what would you like to drink? It's on me.”

“Uh?” Your eyes shift between him and your mom. “Just surprise me.”

“You sure?”

“I trust you.” You give him your best charming smile. He walked away, and you faced your mom with a fury in your eyes. “Mom.”

“Isn't he cute?”

“What the fuck?”

“Dear. You can't be single forever; you have to start dating.”

“Mom.” you grab the bridge of your nose. You never told her because you and your parents have never been on the best of terms that you didn’t even see the need to tell them anything. “I was dating someone, but we broke up last night.”

“Oh, well, isn't this just awkward.” She didn’t sound surprised. “Nothing like a rebound to bring you back!”

And she didn't look surprised, and that made you uneasy. “You didn't want to get coffee with me.”

“That's not true.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Two birds with one stone I wanted you to meet him he's one of your step dad's coworker's son, and I thought it'd be cute to set you two up. He's nice, is fabulously wealthy, comes from a well-respected family, and has a quirk that lets him manipulate DNA of viruses and with your healing quirk you could have babies with the ultimate healing quirk.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Please do this for me dear I'm not getting any younger I just want to see you happy in a successful relationship, just trust me on this one.” She goes to reach for your hand, and you quickly get up from the table when he comes back with your drink.

“I got you a dirty chai if that's okay?”

“Thank you,” you begin, “but-”

Your mom kicks you from under the table and gives you a stern look.

You shoot her a glare from across the table, and when you look back at him, you try to be kind because it wasn’t his fault your mom was a nightmare.

“Greg, I’m sorry, but I’m not really looking for a relationship, my boyfriend and I just broke up yesterday, and I’m not just looking to date right now.”

“Y/n!” your mom, whines.

You give her a disgusted look.

“Oh! I’m so sorry to hear that.” He says, obviously uncomfortable, “I’ll just see myself out.”

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

He nods and waves good-bye before leaving.

“Y/n!”

You sit back down and lean across the table and in a menacing whisper say, “Never pull that shit again.” You sit back and continue in a normal voice and tone. “It's rude and annoying. You have no right to set me up on a blind date without my permission.” You tap the cup in your hand. “I'm pissed, and this is why we don’t talk.”

“Honey.” Your mom rolls her eyes. “You need to stop working so much, settle down, have some kids, etc. etc.”

“Yeah cause that worked so well for you the first time.”

“Y/n!”

“What? It's true you and dad divorced and remarried because you both wanted to ‘settle down,’ but being heroes got in the way of you ‘settling down.’”

“That's where we're different. You don't want to be a hero. You're doing it right. Just go on one date with him.”

“No! Dammit, mom. Are you even listening? My boyfriend and I broke up yesterday! The last thing I want to do is start dating again!”

“What you think Dabi could love you? A fucking criminal, y/n?” she spat. Her eyes got wide, realizing her mistake, and she covered her mouth.

There is no way she would or should know about Dabi. How did she?

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing.” She had nothing left to say as she tried to gather her things up.

You get up and block her from getting up. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Are you the reason why we broke up last night?”

She paused and then smiled, “Honey no but did you really think you would be happy living a life like that forever? I mean c'mon?” she gestured to you, “you’re young and beautiful, your quirk is amazing, anyone would be lucky to have you, and he couldn’t see that. He can’t love you.”

“Stop it. Just stop. I'm Sick and tired of listening to you: I'm going home and please don't contact me. Stay out of my life.”

“Where do you think you're going?”

“To find Dabi and to make things right.”

“He's a villain y/n you're lucky he hasn't been caught think about my job your families' job.”

“What if he's not? What if he's just a puppet and I'm the one pulling all the strings.”

Her eyes grew wide and was taken back.

“Tch. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.” You shrug, and you left the cafe. Your mom was a pro hero she could get into so much trouble for that, but it wasn't true, and you needed to fix things with Dabi before it was too late.

You found yourself on a bridge where you could see the city lights. Standing next to the side, you'd recognize that silhouette anywhere.

“I knew I'd find you up here.”

“Y/n?”

He looks up and over at you cigarette still hanging from his mouth. You couldn't see his face but the fact that he acknowledged you and turned towards you it felt like it was enough.

“You shouldn't be here. You should go.” He said looking back over the edge

“No Dabi I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you.” You started walking towards him. “I know what happened I know you, and my mom must’ve made a deal, and it's bullshit. She’s manipulative and crazy. She’s had years to make things right between us, and this isn't it. I'm not going to let her ruin my life. Dabi I love you, and I'm not letting you break up with me.”

“Dollface. I was never in love with you. I was just using you."

“Tch.” you roll your eyes. “That's not true. That's not who you are.”

“And who the fuck do you think I am!?” he turns to face you. You can’t see his face, but you can hear his voice. It was shaking, and you could see his breathing was shallow and short. You knew you were right, and you weren’t going to stop.

“I know you're Dabi, the hard-ass villain who has his beliefs and hopes to change this society for the better. I know you like to do puzzles in the paper. You like to bury your nose in a crime book. You like stupid humor movies. I know you wouldn't spend your time on someone you don't think is interesting you wouldn't spend so much time with me if it weren't for my quirk and if it weren't for the fact that you cared deeply for me. I know you Dabi. You changed me for better or for worse I feel something with you something different, and I know you feel it too.” You put your hand on his bare arm where his sleeves were rolled up and the fact he didn't flinch away. “I don't know what you and that witch talked about, but I'm here, and I'm not letting her get in the way of us.”

“I want my life back. ”

“Excuse me?”

“When you're with me I have too much to lose. If I'm with you, it's not just my safety. It's yours. I can't always protect you and don't say you can protect yourself. I already know that, but there are some villains that are just merciless. Truth is y/n I don’t know if I can love you.”

You closed your eyes and felt tears form.

“Then that's it Dabi. If that's how you feel, then say the words again, and I'll leave you alone. I just want to hear you say it and have you mean it. And not read the script that my mother made you say. Tell me you want me gone and out of your life and we're done.”

The silence was tense; you were nervous, but in your heart, you knew you were right. Dabi loved you. There was no way your mom was right. There was no way, and then in a quick sweep, Dabi had you in his arms, and his lips were attached to yours. Warm tears hitting your cheeks he was crying. You kissed his back, pulling him close keeping things light while wishing they could get hot and heavy.

“I hate you, Doll Face.”

You smile and caress his face, “I know, but I love you.”

“I love you too that's why I left you and let your mom-“

“My mom doesn't know jack shit she doesn't run my life I do and Dabi I want you in my life, and I'm not scared of my mom and neither should you big bad Dabi oh god you laugh I can't believe you.”

“Can we start over? ”

You laugh. “No. But we can pick up right where we left off and only get better from here.”

He holds you tighter than ever. You take in his light cigarette mixed with autumn scent. Even if he was a villain, this felt so right.

“Let's go home.”

Flash forward to the present time your mom is outside the apartment door again.

“Get out.”

“Excuse me.”

“I said, ‘get out’ you're not wanted here.”

“We had a deal.”

“Yeah but your daughter isn't as easy as you thought she'd be to control. She's not a little kid anymore she can make her own decisions, and if anyone stands in the way, her happiness is going to have to answer to me. Do you want to have to answer to me?” Dabi cocked en eyebrow at her, as blue flames came off the tips of his fingers. “Bitch.”

She snarled and left your apartment Dabi closed the door.

“You do like me.”

“So? What about it?”

You shrug nothing, and you go back pretending like you're busy with something else. Catching one more glimpse of your boyfriend when he catches you starring you stick out your tongue, and he gets up and forcibly gives you a deep and longing kiss.

“I was wrong-”

“Wait, wait a second, say that again?”

“What?”

“I want to hear you say that again.”

“This is childish-”

“Say it or no sex.”

“I was wrong.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.”

[pengychan]

Regarding your Heaven and Earth series, could you share a bit more on how Héctor, Imelda, and Ernesto’s parents met and got together?

Oh, I’d been planning to write something about it! But in the end, the focus should have stayed on the trio, so I scrapped it. 

I didn’t come around to think up anything very detailed for Imelda’s parents past the fact her father was enough of an idealist to voluntarily leave his family to go to war and die. 

With Héctor’s parents, I like to think they met when already in their thirties and had Héctor later in life, when they thought they were simply too old to actually have a child. The idea was that they both worked in the market, would look dreamily at each other from afar, and were basically Too Fucking Dumb to actually act on it, leading literally everyone else present to collectively roll their eyes and start forcing them into situations where they had to interact. (I have this image in my mind with her being a total klutz and knocking down stuff while repeatedly apologizing, while he watches from afar sighing and going “isn’t she just perfect”. And meanwhile he’s like, pouring coffee into an overflowing cup.)The wedding was no surprise. The baby that followed was. EDIT: oh wait I found some snippets about them too, scroll to the bottom! 

As for Ernesto’s parents, I actually started writing something about their first meeting. I dug it up from the scrap folder, here you go! By the time they met, Adela had no family left. Estéban never had any to begin with. 

***

The man laughed at her, which only made Adela angrier. She had worked hard to mend those trousers quickly; he shouldn’t get to walk out without paying.

“You have to pay for those!” she protested, taking a step forward. Her anger was met with a sneer.

“Or else what? You want them back?”

“I–”

“Want to come take them off?”

Three realizations hit Adela García at the same time. The first was that they were rather far from her home, halfway to the village, and that no one else was in sight. The second was that the man’s grin was just a little too wide. The third - he could overwhelm her in moments, and if he chose to–

Adela opened her mouth, to protest or scream, but she had time to do neither. She would never know whether that man had meant to do anything or was just trying to scare her away, because someone else spoke up, suddenly, loudly - more a growl than spoken words.

“How about you give her the fucking money, she stops shrieking about it, and I get to eat in peace?”

“… Huh?”

Both her and Delgado turned towards the source of the sound. There was a man sitting in the shade of a tree, which was… odd. Maybe she had seen him before, but it was hard to tell, because it was covered in dust the way only miners are, when it sticks to sweaty skin and hair and clothes. Miners usually ate their meals together, but he was a good walk away from the mine by the stream; he was sitting under a tree, a half-eaten piece of bread in his hand, glaring at them both like they’d just stepped uninvited in his living room

Adela fought back a bizarre impulse to apologize for the intrusion while Delgado scoffed. 

“You can mind your own business and keep eating, cabrón,” he snapped, and walked off. Or tried to, because the man stuffed the rest of the bread in his mouth - barely visible amongst dusty black bear - and stood. 

He was tall, broad, and probably strong as an ox, the way miners are. Delgado was not a small man, but all it took was a glance to see who would be worse off if it came to blows. And the man very much looked like he’d love an excuse to deal the first one.

“Call me that again,” he said almost calmly through the mouthful of bread. He swallowed, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Delgado took a step back, all arrogance gone. “Listen– I don’t want to fight.”

“And she wants her money. Plus an extra for making her run after you.”

“Who are you, some kind of–”

“Shut your mouth and pay her.”

For just a moment, it looked like Delgado might argue; but in the end, self-preservation prevailed over his pride. He almost threw the money at her, and left in quick strides, giving the other man a wide berth. Adela grinned - it was easily twice the amount he’d have paid if he hadn’t tried to run off, served him right - and picked up several coins. 

“Thank you for–” she began, and trailed off when she said the man was already walking off towards the mine, without another word. 

Rude. 

“What– wait! Wait a moment!”

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Adela rushed after a man - but this time not to ask for money. He stopped, turned to her, and scowled when he realized she was trying to hand him part of what Delgado had given her. 

“I need no charity,” he snapped, causing her to recoil.

“Oh! I meant no offense, it’s just– as a thank you, for helping me. This is more money than the job was worth. It seems only fair.”

He scowl softened in a look of mild surprise, and for the first time Adela noticed that, beneath the dust and grime, he was rather good-looking. In the end, however, he shook his head. Only later she’d come to know how much he despised the mere idea of charity - how humiliating he’d found as a boy, with the nuns running the orphanage reminding him to be ever so grateful for every scrap thrown his way. 

“I don’t need it.”

“Then let me offer you something to drink,” Adela insisted. “Or to eat before you go back to wor-” 

The church’s bell rang in the distance, and the man tilted his head towards it. “Got to go back now.”

“Dinner, then?”

He turned back to her, blinking. Adela’s brain caught up and oh God, she was rather sure her face was about to catch fire. That was stupid– what was she thinking– an unmarried woman living on her own, just inviting over a man she didn’t even know and had no relation to and–

“Or– or I could prepare some lunch for you tomorrow?” she spoke again quickly, faintly hoping the ground would open up to swallow her. “I’ll be making pozole, making a bit more than usual wouldn’t be a problem at all– you can come and pick it up. I’m not that good a cook but– better than just bread, no? Or maybe a few eggs, I have hens…”

He blinked again.

Shut up. Oh God. Stop talking.

“… I’d like that,” he finally said, a little astonished. He had nice eyes, a lighter brown then her own, almost amber under the sun.

*

(Ernesto has plenty of charm and precisely none of it came from his papá. But for some reason Adela’s brain short-circuited for a moment there. And by ‘some reason’ I mean ‘oh hey hot loner guy’.)

Also here’s what little I could find that I wrote about Héctor’s parents before I scrapped the idea.

“Maybe you need to sit down.”“Ricardo, I am fine.”“Maybe the baby needs to sit down.”“Ricardo.”The mixture of amusement and exasperation on Emilia’s face caused him to grin a bit sheepishly. She was right, of course - she was smart enough not to push herself too far, and countless women went on working while pregnant since the dawn of time - but he couldn’t keep himself from worrying.The old crib in their home had stood empty for so long, he couldn’t begin to contemplate the possibility something might happen and–“Mamá! Mamá! Mamá!”“I’m coming, Tito, just a moment–”“Maaaaaa…!”Making a face, Ricardo turned to the source of the unpleasant shrieking. A boy who couldn’t be older than three or four was dragging along a woman whose face was the very epitome of a suffering parent - a clear glance into what would likely become of him in a few month’s time.He couldn’t wait.“Adela! It’s good to see you,” Emilia, always better than him at recalling names, walked around the counter to greet them. “My, how he’s grown.”Adela smiled. “Big and strong like his papá. And how are you? It can’t be long before–” she trailed off when her child looked up at Emilia’s belly, as though confused, and reached up for it. “Ernestito, no! Not without permission!” his mother chided him, but he didn’t even turn: he just rested a tiny hand on Emilia’s stomach and tilted his head in a mute question. She smiled down at him.“There’s baby in there.”

Also

“Wait, what?”“What happened?”“They say something happened in the mine–”“Christ, what’s all the smoke?”“Madre de Dios!”“Someone call for–”“My husband works there.”Adela had spoken so softly, so calmly, like she was stating the weather; yet her skin was suddenly an ashen gray, her eyes huge and full of horror. Ricardo instinctively reached out to catch her should she falter, but she did not. Instead she turned - not to him, but to Emilia. Mother to mother. And Emilia knew what to say before she even uttered a word. “We’ll look after him,” she said, putting a hand on the child’s shoulder. “You go now.”

[queenkrissy11-fandomaccount]

Skeletons in the Closet-Five

Biker!Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Wealthy!Good Girl!Reader High School Au

Warnings-Swearing, scandals, attempted kidnapping, kidnapping, cheating, smoking, drinking, alcoholics, drug addicts, bullying, illegitimate children, abuse, and violence

With all the money the Mitchel’s have, many assume their lives are as picture perfect as they seem. Behind the glamorous vacations, luxurious mansion, and success that everyone sees, their lives are far from it. The only heir to the fortune, their perfect daughter Y/N, faces the worst of it. Beneath her perfectly curled hair and her flawless grades, is a closet full of skeletons just waiting to get out.  

Their next door neighbor, Steven Grant Rogers, is far from your typical boy next door. He wore a leather jacket rather than button ups, sweat shirts, and tees like the boys in the movies. He opted for a smirk rather than a sweet smile. And to top it all off he chose a motorcycle over whatever you’d picture a cute boy in. But then again, Steve Rogers wasn’t cute, he was irresistible. 

Atleast to most girls. Y/N refuses to give into the boy that likes to cloud her thoughts. The last thing she needs is a biker added to the list of things to keep from the media. A lot is expected from the heiress, and at the top of the list, right under taking over the empire, is having the perfect image. A hot, dirty biker is the last thing her image needs. However, her needs differ greatly from those of her image. And compared to everything else she keeps hidden, the media wouldn’t give Steve a second thought. 

You wake up before the sun is in the sky and grab your clothes from last night, creeping through the house. You’ve almost made it out when you hear a voice from inside a parlor, “Come again soon, Y/N. It was lovely to see you again.” You glance inside and see Sara who doesn’t even look up from the newspaper in her hand.

You clear your throat, “Of course, sorry I couldn’t stay longer.” Her lips rise in a slight smile and you take that as permission to leave. 

You sneak back in through the back door and make it to your room without being caught. You collapse on your bed for a moment before getting up to get ready for school. 

Your head was still pounding after two glasses of water and a few painkillers. 

School drags on, Jackie taunting you every chance she gets until you’ve had enough. She approaches you like every other time, a Cheshire grin on her lips, “Y/n, I saw you got another car. Did daddy buy it for you?” You take a deep breath, keeping your monologue in. You’d actually been saving up from your internship since you started and last Monday you had enough to buy yourself a car on your own. She gives you a sick smirk, “Maybe I’ll get him to buy me one.” You’re ready to slap some sense into the bitch in front of you when a familiar voice rumbles from behind you.

“Give it a rest, Jackie,” Steve grumbles.

Her smirk turns into a taunting smile, “Oh, look how precious this is. You have biker boy fighting your battles.”

You take a step forward, ready to knock her on her ass only for Steve to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you to his side.

You take a deep breath and turn to walk away, Steve’s arm still firmly wrapped around your waist. 

He pulls you into an empty classroom, “Please tell me she isn’t sleeping with your dad.” 

You almost throw up in you mouth at the thought of it, “Ew! No! Why would you think that?”

He shrugs, “She was talking about your daddy and how he’d buy her stuff.”

You huff, “Secret number two, Jackie and I are half sisters.”

Steve’s eyes are wide, “No.” You nod. “Is that why you never do anything? And how she can afford any of the shit she has when she’s being raised by a single stay at home mom?”

“Yep, my dad can’t keep it in his pants and has to give her mom thousands in child support and to keep this scandal from the media.” You start pacing the room, “I’m done with today.”

Steve’s signature smirk is back, “Wanna ditch the last few hours?’

You know you shouldn’t but that doesn’t stop you from agreeing and hopping onto the back of his bike. He took you on a ride that ended with the best view you’ve seen in awhile. The best part, he had you at your car as school got out so your parents would never know. 

Atleast that’s what you thought. You walk into your face and are met with your father, red in the face, “Care to explain?” He’s yelling in your face as he throws a stack of papers in front of you. The first few are you at the club with Wanda, there’s one of you taking shots, the two of you dancing, even one of Bruce with hands on you and his mouth on yours. There’s one with Steve and Bruce shoving each other while you stand there, another with you in between them. The last couple are you on his bike. The night of the club and a few from today.

“Explain,” Your father belted out.

“I, I never saw any paparazzi. I’ve been watching closely, I promise!” You tried but it was  no use. 

Your father brought the back of his hand down across your face, “I don’t need you watching for paparazzi! I need you behaving! I need you keeping you image up! Not getting caught with some biker!”

“Some biker? I’ve been with Steve Rogers,” You try to calm him down but it didn’t help. Instead he back hands you again, this time knocking you back enough you stumble and fall. 

“I don’t want to hear about you being near him again, and if I do, you aren’t going to like what happens,” He finishes his threat and storms off.

Alexis is sitting at the bar, an empty bottle to her left and a full glass in her hand, watching you on the ground. She turns back to her glass, “You’ve been causing more trouble than you’re worth. It’ll cost your father a fortune to keep those from being published.” 

You get to your feet and go up to your room, ignoring the hot tears coming down you face and the burning in your cheek. When you check your phone you see a message from Steve, “I hear yelling, is everything alright?” 

You type out an excuse but delete it and opt for something you haven't done before, putting yourself before your image, “Not Quite.”

His reply is almost instant, “I’ll be up in just a minute.” In a matter of minutes, Steve was pulling himself over your balcony and entering your room through the open doors. He quickly takes in your silent tears and the fact that you’re balled up on your bed. Taking the seat next to you, he softly takes your chin in his hands and tilts it from side to side.

“Secret number three,” You whisper. 

“Was this your father?” He bites out.

You nod softly but flinch when Steve gets to his feet, “I’m going to kill him.” His voice was more of a growl than his typical teasing tone. You jump to your feet and put yourself in his path, “Don’t! You’ll only make it worse,” You’re pleading with him, “Please?” 

He takes in a slow, deep breath and lets it out, resigning himself and settling for taking you in his arms. He holds you tightly and, surprisingly, it feels safe. 

“Where was your mom during all this?” He asks finally. 

You scoff, “Alexis isn’t my mother.”

He pulls his eyebrows together.

You meet his gaze, “Secret number four, my birth mother is a woman named Daniella from Queens. My father knocked her up a bit before they found out Alexis was infertile. When my birth mom told my dad it was perfect for him. He kept Alexis out of the media until I was born and paid Daniella off until she agreed to stay out of the picture and let Alexis sign the birth certificate. He got an heir, Daniella’s financial problems were solved, and Alexis got to play happy family. Atleast, she did until she realized she’d never be happy with someone else’s baby. That she’d never get the full experience. It’s why she turned to alcohol in the first place.” 

“That’s pretty fucked up. I’m getting you out of here if it’s the last thing I do,” Steve says it like it’s a promise but you don’t let yourself get your hopes up. 

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[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Tempest in a Teacup: Seven

Clint cradled a coffee cup in his hands, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. It was 9am and he wasn’t sure why his eyes were open. Or if they were really open. For all he knew this could be a really vivid dream.

It was probably a nightmare.

When you pulled up and started taking things out of the back of your jeep. A suitcase. A toolbox. A small case of god knows what kind of energy drink, he knew he was in for a day. But nothing prepared him for this.

He’d never seen the long days. The days with more than one show. And you were doing it while pointedly not talking to Kat who seemed to not even notice that she was tearing your heart out. You had pulled it back together overnight, somehow, and while Clint was grateful to Natasha for doing whatever girl talk magic she’d done, he hated knowing that somewhere in the back of your mind you’d probably never really believe you were enough.

The spy had filled in some gaps for him. Of course Nat could coax more out of you than he could. She was your cool Aunt. The one who slipped you champagne on your 16th birthday. The one who went with you when you were 14 to get your nose pierced. She taught you 15 different ways to hurt a man with the right leverage if they ever put hands on you without your permission. And she was a spy. Clint might be an Avenger. A Master marksman. A kindred spirit. But he was still your dad. Somethings you just didn’t tell your parents.

Kat hadn’t just used you to get back at her ex. She cheated on you with her ex before deciding to break it off. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, acting like nothing happened made him feel sick. Nat looked more awake. She was handing kids pastry and juice like she did it every day but Clint knew she was reading the room. Reading your friends. Given that she hadn’t made any of them cry, she’d apparently judged that they were probably aware of what Kat had done and were similarly pissed. He sipped his coffee and watched too. Mostly he watched you. While Kat was the Belle of the ball, you kept to your crew. You were polite. You were helpful. You were trying very hard not to be noticed.

Girls were the worst, he decided. Boys were too stupid at this age to do this sort of thing. Boys would do dumb hurtful shit. But this was calculated destruction he decided as Kat flounced around holding this other girl’s hand. He was about to walk away for a minute. Give himself time to avoid saying something he shouldn’t when he noticed a tall blonde woman edging towards him like she wanted to say something. “Ma’am,” he said politely with a nod. “Are you Y/N’s dad?” she asked. “That’s what they tell me,” he said stifling a yawn, “If she made someone cry I can try to make her apologize.” The woman smiled a little, “No. No. I just...” she paused, “I’m Cara. Kat’s mom.” She frankly looked embarrassed and that was the only thing that kept Clint from flying off the handle. He knew that this had nothing to do with him. That it was between you and Kat but he still wanted to ask the woman what the fuck she’d done, raising Kat to do shit like that. “I just... Is Y/N okay?” she asked quietly, “What happened, I mean, what Kathleen did. We’re furious with her.” The archer could feel some of the fury leave his body and he sighed, “She’s functioning,” he said carefully, “Okay might take a while.” She nodded and glanced towards you, “We liked her,” she said, “Still do. She’s a good girl. I just... I guess I just wanted to apologize to someone and I don’t think Y/N would talk to me right now. So. I’m sorry Kat did that.” She took a deep breath, “Kat and Selene are... well they’re bad for each other. I just. I’m sorry Y/N got caught in the middle of their mess. She’s too good for that.” Clint sighed, “Thank you for that,” he said a little stiffly. What do you say when someone actually admits their kid is the asshole in a breakup? He’d been the asshole. A bunch of times. Now, watching you go through this he wanted to find every girl he ever did shitty things to and apologize. Profusely.

No one ever told him about this part of having a kid.

She smiled a little, “Tell Y/N what I said?” she asked. “I’d tell her myself but I think she probably wouldn’t hear me.” Clint shook his head, “I don’t think she’d hear much of anything right now, but I appreciate the thought.” He finished his coffee and murmured “Excuse me,” to go find a trash can. And help Natasha. Now that there was some caffeine in his body and he could think he could stop holding up a wall. If he were being honest, he decided, it had more to do with his needing a buffer. Or an anchor in this alien fucking territory.

______

The Matinee show was much less well put together than opening night. Clint noticed a lot of hangovers. It made sense. This shit stressed him out vicariously. 

But once the show was over and the rest of your moral support arrived, it was time to eat. Pizzas were ordered and distributed and Clint estimated that it was your second. Or possibly third Energy drink. You looked awake now at least as you and several of your friends tried to teach Thor various dance memes. 

With the downtime you had between shows, everyone had a place to be and you made your place to be as far the fuck away from Kat as you could get. Which the Avengers who were present and your friends seemed to wholeheartedly support. There was music everywhere and kids lounging, draped over chairs in the auditorium, sprawled on lunch tables. Sitting on the floor. Some managed to nap in the chaos. But you weren’t so lucky.

Kat followed you, it seemed, trying to talk to you. Clint didn’t notice it at first, distracted by shouting corrections to Tony’s story he was telling.  But Nat did. The spy’s eyes narrowed and Pepper followed her gaze. You were fussing with the audio cables that were hooked to the lobby speakers and Kat was talking to you. Well. At you. You hadn’t even turned your head. “What the fuck?” Pepper asked softly, making Clint look. He battled for a second and lost. He hadn’t meant to listen but the stormy look on your face was enough to make him fuss with his hearing aids so he could eavesdrop.

“... Really Y/N grow up,” Kat was saying. You sat back on your heels and looked up at her, “Grow up?” you repeated slowly, your accent creeping back in slowly.  “I mean,” she shrugged carelessly, “Why else would you be telling them to turn my mic down in my scenes if you weren’t jealous.” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, “Because you were eight fucking times louder than everyone else,” you explain patiently. She snorted, “Yeah. Okay. Well do it again and Selene will make sure you can’t do it again.” You stand up slowly. Your posture might be neutral and your face might be mild, but something about you warns the lizard brain in Kat’s head to back up. “Oh no. How will I ever possibly defend myself from a yellow belt and her gang of vapid cunts?” you ask. You rock slightly on your feet and fold your arms, “Stop screaming your lines and project properly and I won’t have to turn down your mic. It’s that fucking simple. Threaten me again and well. That’s a surprise.” You don’t look menacing and somehow, that makes it worse. Your accent and the calm way you immediately set about ignoring her again leaves Clint no question that you could and would fuck someone up. “Good girl,” he said softly. That hurt. Watching you do that so well. The bravado and the way you shoved everything aside to avoid the pain. Nat relaxed visibly and Pepper raised an eyebrow, “Well that’s... terrifying,” Pepper said, “Who’d have thought someone that cute could be that... scary.” 

Clint shrugged, “She had to learn,” he said quietly. “Not all her aunts and uncles are as nice as that chucklefuck.” He gestured towards Thor who was telling a group of kids about Asgard. Pepper winced and looked back towards where you were laying on a lunch table staring at the ceiling, “Any word from her mom?” she asked. Clint shrugged and Nat shook her head, “The last thing Y/N knew she was doing some shit in Caracas. Nothing for a few weeks but that’s normal.” the spy said. Pepper looked slightly appalled and Clint shrugged, “Reggie gave birth when we were 16,” he said, “No one is equipped to be a parent at 16 but Reggie... Well. She never stopped being 16.”

__________

By the time the last show is over, you’re spent and running on caffeine and sheer force of will. Clint takes the keys to your jeep and drives you home. He knows you need to go. That he can’t force you to come back to New York, but he wants to. He wants to put you in a room at the tower and get you into another arts program. But he doesn’t press the issue. Not now. Not when you’re tired and wrung out.

Instead, he helps you up the steps and braces himself to talk to Alice. The woman never has liked him. Not that he blames her. He could see why. He’d knocked up her daughter and then left town, off to do some more illegal shit with his brother before going back to the circus. He could understand the resentment. If anyone did that to you he wouldn’t kill them. He’d sicc Natasha on them and pop popcorn. 

Except Alice isn’t the one sitting at the table. In a  super severe bun and orthopedic shoes. 

It’s Reggie. Clint hadn’t really seen her in years. Probably close to 6 years really. And she looked... the same. Not quite the firecracker she’d used to be but years of partying and poor life choices accounted for that. She had her feet propped up on the table and her hands folded behind her head. Beside him, Clint felt you tense slightly, bracing for impact, “Hi, mom,” you say carefully, “How was your flight?” Reggie opened her eyes slowly and smiled. She looked a bit like the cat that swallowed the canary, “Fine, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” You stand there awkwardly looking between your parents not sure if you should run or step between them. As Reggie puts her feet on the floor and moves to stand, Clint moves to be fractionally more in front of you. Aware that this isn’t just a visit home.

“Tea?” Reggie asks calmly. “No thanks mom,” you murmur. Clint feels his heart drop just a little when he sees you glance towards the doorway to the living room. Your purple Unicorn is sitting on top of a pile of trash bags. “What’s this about, Reggie?” Clint asks, “Don’t you have a country to destabilize?” She shrugs, “Mam was insistent,” she said, “It seems your daughter isn’t allowed to live here anymore. So she wants her to come with me.” She said the words nonchalantly like she hadn’t just punched the air out of your lungs and Clint involuntarily took a step forward, “Reggie, c ‘mon. Some fucking tact isn’t too much to ask for,” he said. The dark haired woman sighed, “Well tact won’t change the facts now, will it,” she said, “Y/N is coming with me. I have a car on the way.” Behind him, without turning, Clint knows you have your arms wrapped around yourself and you’re backing towards the wall.

“The fuck she is,” Clint said, “She’s not going to go live that life, Reggie. I won’t have it.” She laughed, it’s a hard ugly sound and Clint wonders why the hell he ever had sex with her. “What other choice has she got, Clinton?” she asked smoothly, “Are you going to take her?” 

“Yes,” Clint said firmly. He’d rather you hate him than join that particular family business. 

Reggie shrugged, “Well it makes no never mind to me,” she said, “So long as Mam quits calling me to tell me to come knock the dyke out of her.” She goes to reach for you and you don’t move. You don’t seem to know what’s going on right now, still grappling with seeing your things shoved in bags. She chucks you under the chin gently and the only thing that keeps Clint from pulling you away is hoping she’ll say something. Anything remotely comforting. But she doesn’t. She closes her mouth and walks out the front door, letting the screen shut with a bang. You jump and look around. You don’t really seem to know where to be. “Jesus Christ,” you say after a long minute. “Right?” is all Clint can say as he pulls you close and lets you break. “Nat?” he says into his phone, “I need a Van.”

“Why?” she asked, shushing Thor and Loki bickering so she could hear better.

“Look. I’ll explain when you get here. But Bring a van. And beer. I need a beer.” he sighed as you walk out the door and sit on the steps. 

When Natasha pulls up with a van and a couple super soldiers to do the heavy lifting, Clint is just barely able to get the words out through gritted teeth. All their heads turn to look at you. You’re sitting cross legged on the curb, petting a neighborhood stray and looking vacant. “What a cunt,” Nat breathes softly. Steve winces at the word but stays quiet, going to pick up your things. “Careful,” Clint bites out, “There’s probably breakable shit in some of those.” He takes a drink of his beer and fights the urge to tear the house apart. Bucky nods and picks up another couple bags, helping himself to a beer along the way. “Clint,” Nat said softly, reaching for his hand, “It’ll be okay.” Clint shook his head, “I don’t know how,” he murmured, “How is a kid ever okay after that?” The spy smiled a little, “Because she’s a punk ass kid, but she’s your punk ass kid,” she said, “And she’s not going to be on the street. She’s going to be safe. And loved. You’ll see. She’s a good kid, Barton. And she’s going to be in a compound full of people that know that.” He takes a deep breath, “I should have had you bring Vodka.”

She snorted and just handed him a flask, “I hope you know this means Y/N learning a shit load of bad habits.” Clint took the flask and took a drink, “From you?” She laughed, “No,” she said, “From those two fossils outside.” Clint looked out the door. Steve and Bucky both looked awkward but Steve was sitting next to you and Bucky was being painstakingly careful about putting things in the van neatly. The Archer sighed, “Better that then the family businesses I guess.”

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