#that chorus literally killed me as i finished mouthing the first line

[beaversatemygrandma]

Another thing about the other day (27th) my playlist in the car decided to stab me in the gut and twist it.

Famous Last Words. MCR. That shit hit me like a truck for some reason. Breaking out sobbing while driving, thinking about my dog, and probably pissing off the guy I was accidentally tailgating bc I Needed To Go Home and was uncharacteristically speeding.

"I am not afraid to keep on living I am not afraid to walk this world alone Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiven Nothing you can say can stop me going home"

*screams*

[pynkhues]

Prompt 47!

Sorry this one is so late! I hope you like it!

47. Cuddling under blankets

It takes her two days to cave.

Two days to feel the frost in her joints, her perspiration crystalise, her breaths escape in clouds of bitten mist, and god, Beth thinks, staring up at the roof of the cabin, half expecting stalactites. This is not what she had in mind when Rio said safe house.

Not that she was entirely sure what she did have in mind before - - well. Just before. Had never spent all that much time thinking about where it was Rio went when everything had gone south, but if – gun to her head – she’d had to guess, she’d have thought: luxury apartments, sundrenched holiday houses, riverside lodges.

A place his G Wagon would look at home in the driveway, the parking lot, pulled up on the curb.

Somewhere he’d look at home.

The thought makes her wet her chapped lips, sink deeper into the threadbare blankets on top of her still-trembling body, and her gaze dart sideways to where Rio crouches stoking the last flickering embers of the fire.

It’s raining. or rather, it’s sleeting. Shards of ice colliding with the thick glass windows, escaping down the chimney to make the flames spit and smoke below, and when it had first started, Beth had watched Rio cuss. Watched him prod balls of tattered newspaper and sticks she’d collected and tried to dry yesterday, but it hadn’t done much good. The rain had gotten heavier and the fire smaller and she’d seen the chill find him. Pink his nose, ears, stiffen his fingers, and she’d though good, she’d thought he deserves it, but she’d still left him the last of the hot water in the flask even as her own fingers were turning blue.

Now, she holds them close to her mouth, exhales, but her breath is barely warm, and she can’t stop trembling, so she shoves them between her legs instead, and looks at him across the tiny, dim cabin, and says what she’s been saying for the last half hour:

“It’s going to go out.”

He’d ignored her the last time, and scoffed the first time, but now at least it’s enough to make him spin around and look at her, bundled upright on the only bed in the place, the look on his face like he’d forgotten she was even there, and Beth huffs, tilting her chin towards the fire.

“Poking at it isn’t going to miraculously fix the chimney leak,” she adds this time, a shiver rolling up her spine as Rio stares back at her, the erratic glow from the dying flames licking across his features – his plush lips and sharp nose and swollen eye, but god, it’s not that. It’s just - - it’s the cold. That’s all, and when his nostrils flare a little, it’s too easy to add: “Well, it’s not,” because she’s right.

Across the room, Rio finally drops the fire poker back to the tray and stalks his way towards the tiny sofa where he slept last night, tucking his arms high up into his armpits as he drops onto it, leaving his back to her as he hunches forwards, making himself as small as possible in the frigid space of the cabin.

And she doesn’t feel bad.

She doesn’t.

This entire situation is his fault.

It was him who showed up three weeks ago with a new plate, telling her to print two million dollars cash. It was him who’d had that spring to his step while he told her about a new client, and it was him who had her show up at a hotel bar with a suitcase full of fake cash to meet a guy who turned out to be an old-partner-turned-bitter-rival of Nick’s.

She still doesn’t really know what happened, just suddenly it was a few days later and Rio was back at her place with a black eye and a limp and an order.

Bring the plates.

He’d driven them through the night.

Now, across the cabin, he drops a hand to rub at his bad leg, and Beth’s frown deepens as she wriggles back into the dusty mattress, her gaze holding on the narrow line of him, and here’s the thing.

It’s not like she hasn’t thought about it.

Last night had been bad enough, but tonight with the rain and the sleet, without any real insulation and no fire, they’re practically case studies for hypothermia. For the bone chill and the frost bite and the slurred speech and the shuttered eyes and the slip towards a forever sort of unconsciousness.

And like, she knows that the best ways to avoid hypothermia are warm drinks, food, blankets, getting off the ground, and body heat, and just - -

Look.

They finished the cocoa hours ago.

Beth sniffs, rolls her eyes to the ceiling, feels a jittery tension in her body as she blinks hard and finally just says it:

“Come here.”

Rio twists his neck back instantly at that, his eyebrow arched, but he doesn’t make any indication that he’s likely to move, and right, Beth huffs. Why should this be any easier than literally anything else? Her head’s already starting to feel heavy, her thoughts tangled, and she figures the best way forwards is to - - well.

Be the danger.

With a trembling hand, Beth slowly unwraps the blanket from around herself, revealing her stiff jeans and loose sweater, the cold washing through the thin fabric like a rinse, and her teeth are already chattering when she says:

“Body heat.”

His other eyebrow raises to join the first, gaze dropping to her chest where she knows her nipples are peaked in cold, and Beth scowls.

“Not like that. Just - - we’re both freezing right and now, and this - - look. It works.”

“Yeah? You learn that at Journey Scouts?”

“Got the badge and everything,” she bites, and she’s sure she’s visibly trembling now, can feel it, and she sees Rio stare at her, shake his head, start to tell her to bundle up before she kills herself or something, and she adds: “You either come over here and get in the blanket with me or we’re both going to freeze to death right now, and what are your gang buddies gonna think of that, huh?”

Outside, the wind howls and the sleet is starting to get heavier, thicker, careen into hail, and god, it’s cold, and Beth can barely feel her anything anymore, and Rio’s still staring at her, his eyes (or, well, the one she can see below the swelling) dark, and she’s halfway to giving up and flinging herself back on the dusty mattress and trying to shiver her way to any sort of warmth, when Rio suddenly pushes up off the couch and beelines towards the bed.

Which - - right, Beth thinks. This is good, this is what she wanted. In her head, there are vague flashes of real warmth, his body pressed into hers, a memory of heat and desire twisted up and around and over and over, and something drops through her like a lick of flame, and she swallows only to suddenly find herself being gripped around the waist and pushed sideways. Within moments, Rio’s slipped his body beside hers and laid them both down, the mattress frigid beneath them, as Beth desperately tries to adjust the thin blankets back across them both.

She inhales sharply when she feels Rio’s leg press sideways against her own.

His arm against hers.

Both of them suddenly pushed like fish fingers against each other on their backs.

Or like corpses.

The thought makes her swallow.

Makes her gaze flick up to see his swollen face, his pink nose, his unusually pale features.

God, it’s cold.

Beth sniffs, looks down as she wriggles further beneath the blankets, curling her socked-toes to try and hold the blanket to them.

“So,” she tries. “How long are we going to be here?”

“I dunno,” he answers instantly, voice light, like he’d been waiting for her to ask. “How much holiday leave you got?”

Beth scowls, twisting to look at him, and then away, and then back, fixing on the way he hasn’t taken his gaze off the ceiling. It leaves her with little to look at but his swollen eye, the skin darkened with bruises around his temple, and she can’t quite keep the edge out of her voice when she asks:

“Did your brother give you that?”

“Cousin.”

He sniffs as he says it, nose wrinkling, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he winced too at the motion of it. Pressed against her own, his arm feels tight, stiff, his leg cold against hers, and fine, if that’s the way he wants to play it.

“Oh, sorry. Did your cousin give you that?” Beth asks, correcting herself, and at least now, Rio does twist his neck to look at her, his eyes wide in the dark, the whites of them near luminous, and god he is - - he is too close. So close she can feel the cool of his breath against her cheek.

He doesn’t reply, and Beth swallows, something in her gut twisting, fingers trembling as the silence pulses between them, and she doesn’t know if it means yes, or if Rio’s insulted she’d even think that (Nick had just seemed - - and Rio - - something. There was something, that’s all), and it makes her look away. Makes her stare up at the ceiling like he’d been doing, like she had earlier too, watching the timber roofing tremble and listening to the shatter of sleet.

She thinks her toes are going numb.

She thinks her lips are.

She thinks the cold is starting to wrap its fingers around her ankles and pull her into its clutches, starting to leave her tired, and suddenly she’s grasping at anything to distract herself. Anything to keep her head above the threat of frigid oblivion, and she’s halfway through the chorus of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? before she even realizes what she’s humming.

It’s not until Rio snorts beside her that it means anything to her slow turning head.

Beth’s gaze fixes back on him, and it’s sudden then – the memory of Jane and Marcus singing it to each other through the laundry room door while they played, back when Rhea still came around, back when Beth thought - -

After - -

Beth blinks.

A shiver wracking her chest as she clutches the blankets a little tighter.

“Does Marcus like Frozen?” she asks, like she doesn’t know, and from the way Rio makes a low noise of affirmation, she knows that he doesn’t.

Something in Beth loosens, tightens, loosens again.

“He really likes that snowman,” Rio says, sniffing again. “Olaf.”

His lip twitches – something between a smile and a grimace, and Beth can’t help but grin in reply, her own gaze holding now on the twist of his mouth.

“Jane had a stuffed one that sang the song from the movie. The Summer one. I took out the sound box and stitched it back up.”

Rio barks on a laugh, even as Beth cringes at the memory. It probably wasn’t her finest parenting moment, but after hearing the same song for the thirtieth time in a day, she was about to start tearing at the wallpaper.

“I told her he just wasn’t feeling well,” she adds. “But secretly I’m hoping she forgets he ever sang.”

It’s weird, the voice in her head that tells her it’s not a secret anymore.

Not now that she’s told him.

She doesn’t know why that leaves her pressing her arm to his a little tighter.

“Damn, you’re doin’ better than me,” Rio tells her, his voice low, a little slurred, hoarse with cold. She thinks that’s one of the symptoms of hypothermia, isn’t it? God, she can’t remember. “I gave Marcus’ to one of his cousins.”

Beth laughs.

Looks at him.

Vaguely, something in her head tells her to listen to his chest. Check for a rattle. Is that for hypothermia? No. Pneumonia, she thinks. Tries to summon up her badge training. God, she feels drunk suddenly. Woozy. She lifts her head and places it on his chest anyway, and if he’s surprised, he doesn’t act it. Instead, his arm circles around her shoulders, pulling her into him, which is silly, she doesn’t need the rest of her to hear the ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum of his heart beneath her ear. Doesn’t need to drop his mouth to the crown of her head, doesn’t need to inhale either, but she shivers at the warmth of his exhale there when he does that and when his freezing hand finds her shoulder, it’s too easy to reach back.

To pull it around her arm and under, squeezing his fingers into her armpit to warm them, and when his fingers creep forward to squeeze her breast, she doesn’t move them, couldn’t, she doesn’t think, not with his heartbeat so close, and his chest isn’t rattling but it might, she thinks, and god, it’s so much warmer like this, so she shouldn’t move her head just yet.

Just to be sure.

Just to warm them up a little.

Just for now.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

matching tattoos

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k (the longest i’ve done in a while whoo 🎉)

"Stevie, I don't think your mom will be too happy with me if I let you do this," Harry said, eying his two year old daughter. She had been asking about it for weeks, but so far he'd been able to distract her before you caught wind of their conversation.

"Pleeeease, daddy?" She pouted, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

"Why don't we have some cookies instead, love?" 

"No." 

"Ummm... oh! I know what we can do! Why don't we go in my studio? You can play the piano, or the guitar, maybe sing a song for me..." He trailed off.

"I want to do this! Please?" 

Harry's heart melted in three seconds flat. How could he say no to her? He tried, he really did. He opened his mouth to say "no, mommy will really kill me, why don't we do something else?" but one glance at her sweet face left him speechless. He couldn't do it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"Alright, we'll do it... but!" He cut himself off, raising his voice slightly to be heard over her excited cheering. "But! We only have two hours til mommy gets home." She nodded eagerly, bouncing on her feet. 

"And if we do this it has to be our secret, mommy can't know. Can you keep this secret?" He said, making a very serious face. 

"Yes!" She squealed, giggling. 

"Pinky promise?" 

She beamed, holding her tiny hand up to his. He wrapped his finger around hers, squeezing for just a second before releasing her. 

"Go get the markers then, we have to work fast!" 

Stevie screamed in excitement, running as fast as her little legs could carry her. He heard her digging around the art room, probably making a huge mess, before he heard a scraping noise on the wood floor. She was pushing a box of markers that was nearly as big as she was, groaning dramatically. 

"It's... too... heavy," she panted.  "Please help!" 

Harry smiled, leaning down to pick up the box. He scooped her up too, settling them both down on the table. 

"Alright, Miss Styles," he said, adapting a posh accent. "This is a proper tattoo parlor, so we shall do this properly, hm?" 

She laughed, kicking her feet. 

"I want the mermaid!" She said, pointing to the ink on his forearm. 

"Patience, Miss Styles," He smiled, wetting a paper towel under the faucet. "First, we have to get your arm ready!" 

She held out her arm, tracing her little fingers over his other tattoos as he wiped her wrist with the cloth. 

"So, the mermaid, hm? You have excellent taste, Miss Stevie," he joked, throwing the towel back to the sink. "What color?" 

"Black, like yours," she said, smiling sweetly. 

He felt his heart squeezing as he reached for a black marker. She was so precious. He would do anything, literally anything, to make her happy. He knew it was probably dangerous, how much power this two year old had over him, but he didn't care. He had been in love with her since the day she was born; since the first time he had looked at her. 

"We can match, look at that!" He said, beginning to draw on her arm. "Did you know that I love you sooooo much?" 

"I love you too, daddy," she giggled. "And that tickles!" 

"Oh, it tickles, does it? Should I stop?" He hovered the marker over her skin, glancing at her teasingly. 

"No!" She yelled. "I want to match you!" 

"Alright then," He said, laughing as he went back to his task. "Why don't we listen to some music?" 

"Yeah!" 

"What should we listen to?" 

"Your song, the fire!" 

"The fire?" Harry looked up, confused. "None of my songs have fire in them, bug." 

"Yes," she said stubbornly. "And the fish!" 

Harry thought for a second before it clicked. "Do you mean Adore You?" 

"That one!" 

"You're right," He laughed. "That one does talk about fire. I'll get it, yeah?" 

He set down the marker, picking up his phone. After a minute, she was dancing in her seat to the drums of Adore You. When the chorus came on, she sang "walk through fire for you" while looking at Harry triumphantly. 

"Did you know this song is about mommy?" He said, focusing on his drawing. 

"Really?" She asked incredulously, eyes wide. 

"Really! It's about how much I love her." 

"Yucky," She said, scrunching her nose.

  "Yucky? That's not yucky!" he exclaimed. "It's nice!" 

Stevie hummed, kicking her feet along with the music.

   "It's yucky." 

"Stevie, you're hurting my feelings!" He said, gasping and clutching his chest dramatically. "I can't go on," he sighed, throwing his other arm over his forehead. "I'm sorry, daddy," She giggled, reaching up to pull his arm back to her. "Keep going!" 

He smiled, adding the finishing touches to her drawing.

"And... there we go! One mermaid, just for you." 

She beamed, holding her arm next to his to compare. 

"Daddy... your mermaid has no clothes. She needs some." 

"How about you draw her a shirt?" Harry laughed, handing her the marker. She furrowed her brow, focusing intently on her task. 

"Good job staying in the lines, love!" He said, ignoring the scribbles around the outline. "And you were right, it does tickle." 

"I know!" She laughed, giving the marker back. 

"What now?" 

"The... the heart!" She said, pointing the the small filled in shape on his upper arm. 

"Sure, that's an easy one." 

He proceeded to give her at least ten more matching "tattoos", including a cross, an anchor, a poorly drawn rose, and the green bay packers logo. 

"Daddy!" She gasped. "I have a idea!" 

"What's your idea, princess?" 

"The butterfly! On my belly!" 

"You want a butterfly on your belly?" He asked, lifting his shirt to show her his. "Like this?" 

"Yes!" She clapped. "Like that!" 

They were having the time of their lives, drawing and singing as loud as they could to all of Harry's songs. He loved watching her face every time he finished drawing. Her eyes would light up and she would pull his arm to hers, showing him how they matched. Every time a new song came on she would squeal and kick her legs because "it's my favorite song!" 

They had just finished making silly noises together at the end of "Sunflower" when Harry heard a noise. He froze with the marker on her arm, looking up quickly. 

He reached over to pause the music, holding a finger to his lips when she whined at him. He glanced at the clock, hoping he was just imagining things. You weren't supposed to be home for another hour. But no, that was definitely the sound of the front door opening, followed by your voice calling out a greeting. 

"Mommy!" Stevie shrieked, launching herself off the table. 

"No!" Harry hissed, grabbing her before she could run off. "Stevie, we have to wash this off!" 

He scooped her up, running up the stairs to the bathroom. 

"Harry?" You called out. That was weird. You could have sworn you heard them in the kitchen. "Stevie?" 

"We're- we're upstairs, love!" Harry yelled back. "Just cleaning up!" 

Cleaning what? You wondered, but didn't dwell on it for too long. It had rained recently, so they had probably gotten muddy outside. 

You made your way to the kitchen with the grocery bags, beginning to put everything away. Then you saw the box of markers. You narrowed your eyes, confused when you realized there was no paper around. What had they been drawing on? 

Up in the bathroom, Harry was starting to panic. He had set Stevie up on the counter while he was rubbing at the ink with a washcloth. 

"It's not coming off! Why isn't it coming off? The box said washable!" 

"No, don't take my mermaid!" She cried, pushing his hands away. 

"Stevie, love, I'm sorry, but we can't let mommy see these. Remember? They're secret tattoos." 

"Mommy will like them! They're nice," She pouted. 

"No, I don't think she will," Harry said, laughing nervously. "Maybe if we..." he grabbed the bottle of soap, dumping some onto the cloth. "There we are! Whew," he sighed in relief. "Good thing that worked, or daddy might have been sleeping on the couch tonight." 

Just as he was lifting her off the counter, he heard a knock at the door.

  "Harry? What are you doing in there?" 

He swung open the door, smiling charmingly. 

"Just a little cleanup! We... spilled some yogurt. Right Stevie?" 

She nodded, looking up at you innocently. 

"Ok... why were there markers all over the table, but no paper to use them on?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Uh... we were going to color, but then... the... yogurt explosion..." 

"Oh, I see," you said, still suspicious. "Stevie," you said, kneeling down to be at her eye level. "Is daddy telling the truth?" 

Harry held his breath. Stevie was notoriously bad at lying. Usually, Harry was thankful for this, but right now he could do with a little fib.

"Yes mommy, yogurt went everywhere," she said, eyes going wide as she mimicked an explosion with her hands.

You smiled, straightening up. 

"Well, I'm glad you got it cleaned up. I'm going to go put the rest of the groceries away." 

Harry exhaled as you got to the bottom of the stairs. He quickly lifted Stevie up, spinning her around. 

"Thank you, Stevie. You're such a sweetie," He said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She giggled, wiping her face and wiggling in his arms.

"Let's go see what mom bought us!" He said, bouncing her as they ran downstairs. 

Harry thought he was in the clear. He really did. He had managed to scrub off all traces of the marker, including the scribbles drawn over his own mermaid. Luckily, Stevie was true to her pinky promise and didn't say a word. She told you about how they played outside and what books they read, but said nothing about the makeshift tattoos. She was good at being sneaky.

By the time Stevie was yawning, Harry really though everything was fine. When you went to change her into her pajamas, he settled into the couch to find a movie. 

Everything is fine, he thought. You had no id-

"Harry!" You yelled from down the hall. 

He hopped up from his seat, rushing to Stevie's room. 

"What is it?" 

"Harry," you said, turning towards him slowly. "Why does our daughter have a huge butterfly drawn on her tummy?" 

So close.

[sunjaesol]

baby, you ain't being slick

juke | human!au + strangers | title: juice // lizzo 

He didn’t want to be here. Alas, his friends could be persuasive if they wanted to. 

After a shit day in the studio, another rejection letter from agencies all around, contrived lyrics scratched on lined paper and one sugar crash, Alex and Reggie decided to go to a karaoke bar. Of all places they could go to take the edge off, they decide on an establishment that would literally be his cause of death. Luke despised karaoke bars. Why listen to drunk people blabber lyrics they didn’t know (nor cared about) into a shitty mic at two am while sipping on an equally shitty margarita? Why torture himself with music when music itself was kicking his butt as of late? 

But then Alex told him mocking drunk people was fun and Reggie begged for a chance to sing ABBA, so Luke couldn’t refuse. He already acted like a douche enough today. 

So there he sat, on a barstool at Neon Affluenza on a Wednesday night peering into the aforementioned shitty margarita. The place recently opened and has gotten pretty good reviews, Luke quietly admitting that the vibe of the bar was pretty dope. Dark walls and black hardfloor flooring, dimmed lights and purple LED giving everyone a mysterious glow. The stage was small, as usual, with an underpaid DJ on the side playing the tracks. It was packed, loud chatter and clinking glasses overpowering the slurring words of the heavy-lidded, burly man onstage working his way through a Céline Dion track. Luke wondered for a second if the singer thought about how many people butchered her song and brought slander to her name every second of the night in all the karaoke bars all over the world. Oh well. At least she had a record deal and, you know, any significance. 

Alex sat next to him, grinning face illuminated as he texted Willie, as Luke lazily let his gaze drift across the room. The man has stopped and gotten a weak applause, the next person ascending the stage and singing - Jesus fucking Christ, kill him now - “Firework” by Katy Perry. This night truly was the worst. 

It didn’t help that for some reason, three girls have come up to him. Was this an ongoing bet from one friend group or something? To see which one of the girls could crack him? Any other night, he would’ve relished the attention, maybe even chatted one up enough to go home with. Flirting was second nature to Luke. The third girl was his type too! When he rejected her avances, she just shrugged and continued her way to Reggie. Which, he must admit, was a pretty confident move on her part. Regardless - Luke wasn’t in the mood and nothing, or no one, would change that. (Maybe he could sneak back to the studio...)       

“Excuse me-” A female voice called out, tapping his arm. 

He rolled his eyes. “Not interested.”

She scoffed. “You’re sitting on my jacket, asshole.”

Turning to face her, he froze for a beat. His unimpressed glare turned surprised at how pretty she was. Like, “double take on the street”-pretty. If he thought the girl from before was his type, he was mistaken. This was his type. She regarded him with minimal interest, brows raised and arms crossed. 

“So?”

His reply stuttered out slowly. “Uh... huh?” Awesome. He was twenty-three and unable to speak to a pretty girl like some pimply eleven year old playing spin the bottle for the first time. 

She tugged on his stool and - oh. The stool wasn’t leather, it was suede. He was sitting on her leather jacket. Shit. He terribly hoped he didn’t have butt sweat, or else mortification would take him out and not the piercing belt of the drunk singer. Either way, he embarrassed himself. 

“Shit!” He rushed from his chair and held the garment out for her. “Sorry!”  

With a sneer, she grabbed it from his grasp, fingers brushing and letting heat ripple up his arm. Holy shit. Yup. The night took a turn. He had to know who she was. 

She pulled the jacket on. “Thanks, I guess...” Just as she was about to disappear back in the throng of drunkards, he called out for her. 

“Uh, hey! I didn’t get a name!”

The girl turned around, an amused - hella attractive - expression flitting across her face (damn, in what factory did they make her?), and tracked his body with her eyes. Instinctively fixing his slouch, he hoped she was into that punk-rocker aesthetic. That jacket was sort of a clue, right? 

An ironic smile tugged on her lips. “Thought you weren’t interested, loverboy.”

Oh, fuck. His flirting game found their match and it was wrapped around a 5′4 girl with glossy curls and eyes glinting with challenge. Luke recovered as fast as he could from his whiplash and swaggered over to her, a charming smirk falling on his lips - the one he so often pulled to make the front row fawn. The girl didn’t look away, raising her chin to level his intensity. A giddy feeling spread in his chest. This could be fun. 

“That’s before I knew the leather jacket belonged to a pretty face like yours, princess.”

“Trust me,” she laughed, also attractive. Everything about her was fucking enigmatic. “I’m not a princess.”

He tried again. “What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?”, she shot back. 

He licked his lips, grinning, and held his hand out. He’d gladly bridge this animosity if it got him a name and a number. “I’m Luke.”

His hand was met with cold air, the girl laughing again and showcasing the cute, little gap between her teeth. It should be an imperfection, but it kind of made her better. Jeez, he didn’t even know her! Why she was laughing, however, he didn’t know. He’d lie if he said his ego wasn’t slammed. 

“Are you-?”

“Next up: my girl Julie with Lizzo!” The DJ yelled in the mic, a gaggle in the crowd hooting and whistling. His dream girl winked, throwing a thumb at the stage and shrugging like she felt sorry for interrupting the conversation.  

“That’s my cue. Bye!”

“Wait!” Argh! He didn’t pay attention to the DJ! Now he still didn’t now her name! A beat later, though, the latter words processed. Lizzo. This girl was going to sing... Lizzo? The most revered pipes of the 21st century? Yeesh. Maybe she wasn’t so perfect after all. 

The girl jumped on the stage like she owned it, the first notes of “Juice” booming from the amps, her body moving with the beat. Straightening her jacket and mirroring the smirk he just sported himself, Luke’s throat went dry. 

“Oh.” Alex casually came to stand next to him. “That’s Julie.”

“What?!”

But then she opened her mouth and any sensical thought flew out the window. Her voice was fucking magnificent. Clear, kind of raspy, yet loud and strong and an undercurrent that suggested years of rigorous training. This was not just some girl singing - she was singer. 

If I'm shining, everybody gonna shine I was born like this, don't even gotta try

Her eyes searched across the heads and then stuck on him, that damned smirk widening and sending him a look that would bring any man to his knees. And then, to finish him off, teasingly waved at him as she spit the lyrics. 

I'm like Chardonnay, get better over time Heard you say I'm not the baddest bitch, you lie!

Julie zoomed through the lyrics with ease, dancing and singing like it was breathing, and oozing every bit of confidence a person could have. Cocky nods and flirtatious winks and sinking in her knees to direct a lyric to people in the crowd. He corrected his previous thought: she wasn’t a singer, she was a performer; and she had him stammering. 

All of a sudden, she jumped offstage with the mic, the adoring audience parting for her like the Red Sea and the bartenders brightening the LED’s to give everyone a proper look at what she was doing. Luke should’ve known that one verse wasn’t enough - should’ve known that if he was the Flirt King, Julie was the Flirt Queen. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face though. She was incredible and - fuck it - the coolest girl he’s ever met. 

Coming to a halt right in front of him with that smile meaning checkmate, she obnoxiously pointed at him as she sung the bridge to the audience. 

Somebody come get this man I think he got lost in my DMs, what? My DMs, what? You better come get your man I think he wanna be way more than friends, what? More than friends What you want me to say?

Luke was shaking from laughter, flushing red yet buzzing with exhilaration at this girl putting him in his place. Putting on a show! Where has she been all his life?! 

Before he could snatch her waist, she ran back to the stage to belt out the last chorus with all her might, a dazzling smile breaking through. It was the first genuine, earnest one of the night and... wow.  Julie was breathtaking. 

Alex, unfazed, pressed his phone in his face. “She’s a singer from LA. Thought you’d know her.”

Her song ended, applause so deafening the pedestrians probably heard too, Julie making a silly face and bumping fists with the DJ. She must be a regular here. Weaving her way back to the bar, Luke mustered all his bravado into a laid-back stance and nonchalant smile. He couldn’t hide the mischievous spark in his eye though. That checkmate was still up for grabs. 

“A water, please,” she asked the bartender. Catching her eye, she turned towards him. “Hello again.”

“Gotta admit, Julie-” he leaned back, elbows propped on the bar. “-wasn’t too bad.”

From the way her eyes lingered on the movement, triumph flared in his chest. She came closer, cocking a hip and placing her glass next to his arm. “Ha! I can sing circles around you.”

He leaned in with a grin. “You’d be surprised.”

She didn’t back down. “Is that a challenge?”

“Ask me again in the morning.”

Huffing, she uttered: “What makes you think I’d go home with you?”

“Cause I do ‘wanna be way more than friends’ and, well-” He closed the space between them, calloused fingers tugging on a curl and tucking it behind her ear. Her skin was hot from the lights. For a beat, her resolve waned.“You’re still here.”

Those eyes that have been driving him wild flickered to his lips. He held his breath in anticipation. One night with this girl and some snarky lyrics later and he’d be back on the saddle. This was what he needed to get out of his funk. After, everything would just go back to normal. Right?  

Her lips suddenly grazed his, gaze flicking up and giving him a killer grin. Right - maybe not entirely back to normal. He wouldn’t mind Julie giving him a look like that more often. 

“You got yourself a deal... loverboy.”

@blush-and-books @willexx @unsaid-emily @alexjulies

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 14: Suzie, Do you Copy?

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x (kinda) Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: Dustin’s return to Hawkins had overjoyed you, but other than that, there was no change to the normal routine of your summer. At least, that’s what you thought.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, spoilers (obvi), language, mentions of violence, injuries, pretty chill tbh

Word Count: 2764

A/N: AHHHH, I’m back finally! I’m so sorry I took so long to update this story! Hopefully I’ll be able to get back onto this series and update it regularly like I used to, but I can’t make any promises. For the time being, I hope you enjoy and make sure to keep an eye out for any updates! As always, my taglist and ask box is open! 

Tags: @just-my-fandom​, @nightbu-g​

You couldn’t recall a time you had woken up earlier than nine a.m. in the past month.

In all honesty, you had considered just sleeping in until the very last minute scramble to get dressed, rush out the door, and get back before Dustin got home.

Unfortunately that plan could not be executed as your mother woke you up, knowing you well enough that she could predict your plans.

And that was why you were at the mall at 10 a.m., your gaze focused on the floor as you made the trek over to Scoops Ahoy. Surprisingly, there was a small line in the shop, considering it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.

As you finally stood at the counter and lifted your head, Steve visibly relaxed, his “customer service” persona fading. “Oh thank god, it’s just you,” he sighed, leaning against the counter.

“Just little ol’ me,” you hummed, absentmindedly rubbing at your eye. “God, has the day already gone to shit for you, Steve?”

“Well, he’s already struck out twice if that’s any indication,” Robin piped up, peeking through the window that peered into the back area.

“Twice? Didn’t you guys open just an hour ago?” 

“Don’t rub it in,” Steve huffed, a frown sinking onto his features.

“Fine, fine.”

You and Steve had grown close in the past six months, sharing a special bond that you honestly needed. Though you couldn’t decide if the bond grew from him literally saving your life, or from your significant others (well, for Steve at least) dating each other rather than you two. Both, probably.

“Are you here to order something or just to bully me?” he spoke finally, pulling his ice cream scooper from his makeshift-holster. 

“Right, right. Just a pint of cookie dough and a pint of strawberry,” you instructed, pulling a ten out of your pocket.

He nodded and began scooping the two pints of ice cream. “Who’s the cookie dough for?”

“Dustin.”

He looked up at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “He’s coming back today?”

“Yeah!”

He sealed the lid of the cookie dough pint. “No one tells me anything!”

You rolled your eyes. “Steve, I told you this two days ago.”

You heard Robin let out a laugh in the back room and Steve pressed his lips into a line. “Do you want ice cream or not?!”

You laughed. “Come on, you know you’d never deprive your two favorite people of ice cream.”

He rolled his eyes and finished up the second pint, sliding both of them over to you as you handed him the $10 bill. “Do you work today?”

“Unfortunately. I’m just hoping I’ll be home before dark tonight because they’ve been fucking keeping me for hours after closing.”

“Doesn’t the pool close at like five?”

“Yup,” you huffed, popping the ‘p.’ “And, to top it all off, I’m stuck with Heather  and Billy today.”

The two of you cringed simultaneously. “Can’t say I’d rather be you.”

“Thanks for the support.” You took the change from Steve and stuffed it into your pocket before cradling both pints of ice cream in your arms. “Well, I gotta drop these off at home and then sit in the sun for a few miserable hours. I’ll call you when I get home.”

***

Your soul nearly left your body when a chorus of screams erupted in the kitchen as soon as you stepped in the front door. They fell silent a moment later, though, and a voice echoed out, “Oh, it’s just you.”

With a hand clutched over your chest, you rolled your eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you guys with my presence, but can we avoid killing me the next time you see me?” you huffed, still struggling to take in a proper breath.

We thought you were Dustin,” Lucas explained, a party blower between his teeth.

“Yeah, I figured.” You brushed past the group and put the ice cream in the freezer. “Can someone make sure that Dustin gets his ice cream? I won’t be able to see him until later tonight.”

“I can,” Will spoke up, raising his hand in the air.

“Finally, someone I can count on.” You grabbed the drawstring bag that held all of your items and slung it over your shoulder. “How’s Jonathan enjoying his job at the newspaper?”

There was a small silence. “You haven’t talked to him about it?” Mike spoke up, and Max swatted his arm.

You shook your head, the healing scratch on your eye beginning to burn slightly. “No, not yet. We’ve, uh... We’ve both been too busy. We haven’t talked in a couple of weeks.” More like a month.

There was another silence before Will spoke. “He likes it. He has the dark room all to himself,” he explained, his voice gentle and hesitant.

“Good. That’s good. Tell him I said hi, or something.” You cleared your throat before turning to the group and giving them a smile. “I gotta head to work. You guys have fun, okay?”

***

God, you felt like vomiting.

Everything seemed to be going wrong today, like you forgetting to bring your sunscreen and sunglasses, Billy and Heather’s constant pestering and gossiping, Billy ignoring his job so he could flirt with Mrs. Wheeler, Mrs. Wheeler completely ignoring you so she could flirt with Billy, the dozens of kids that had coined multiple nicknames for you and your scar, and the 101 degree temperature that was unrelenting.

Luckily, though, the day was close to coming to an end. Most of the crowd had thinned, excluding a couple of kids who spent the whole day there anyways and adults who insisted on lingering until they absolutely had to leave. 

The shriek of a whistle startled you from your thoughts, your head slipping from your hand and making you lurch forward slightly. A group of muffled cackles sounded to your right, and you rolled your eyes. “Can I help you, or are you just here to make my life a living hell,” you grumbled, snapping your gaze over to Billy and Heather.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted a water, but I guess not,” Heather huffed, stubbornly crossing her arms over your chest.

You gave her a doubtful glance. “Were you really?”

She laughed. “No. Now get up, It’s my turn on deck.”

With a huff you stepped down the ladder and tucked your book and raft under your arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Billy step closer. “Billy, if you push me in the pool you’re gonna wake up with no fucking mullet tomorrow.”

The pair just laughed behind you condescendingly, and you stomped away with a scowl etched on your face.

Ever since the... altercation that occurred months ago, Billy had kept his distance from you. It was a relief, knowing that he wouldn’t test your limits for the sake of his own health. But that didn’t stop him from sprinkling in some teasing every single time he spoke to you.

The hot concrete stung the soles of your feet, and you picked up your pace so you could get to the office before your feet blistered.

“Hey, no running!”  You froze at the voice, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Slowly, you turned on your heel to face the source. 

Jonathan stood behind the fence, his hands in his pockets and a shy smile on his face.

“Jonathan?” you whispered, tilting your head slightly as if you were a dog. 

“Hey Y/N,” he hummed, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.

A small smile settled on your face and you walked over to the fence, a silent sigh of relief leaving your lips when your feet settled on the grass that bordered the fence. “Hey! W-What are you doing here? I thought you got out the same time that I did?”

“I do, I just uh... I wanted to go on a walk.”

You nodded. “Oh, okay.”

“And I uh, I wanted to see you. Just see how you were doing, I mean.”

You let out a small chuckle, hooking your fingers through one of the chain links in the fence. “I’m doing good. I mean, as good as I can be sitting in the heat for five hours straight with no sunglasses. How have you been?”

“I-I’m good. Isn’t Dustin back in town?”

“He is, he just got back today. I haven’t seen him yet, though. How’s your job at the paper going?”

“It’s good, really good. I’m enjoying it a lot.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The two of you stood silently, avoiding each other’s gaze except for the spare glances you’d risk. 

“I should get going,” Jonathan spoke finally, a hint of reluctance in his voice. 

“Right, yeah,” you hummed, clearing your throat. “It was good to see you, Johnny.”

“You too.” His mouth opened as if he wanted to say more, but he decided against it, giving you an awkward wave before walking away.

You lingered there for a moment, an all-too-familiar ache in your chest as you watched him walk away from you.

***

After rinsing off, getting changed, and making a final check of the area, you were finally off for the night. You could feel your shoulders nearly weighing your entire body down and your eyelids were extremely close to falling shut at any moment. Silently, you made the trek through the parking lot and over to your car. 

You hopped in the driver’s seat and fished your key out of your bag before putting it in the ignition and twisting.

And twisting again.

And one more time.

Shit.

You slammed your hands against the wheel and let out a groan, throwing your head back against the headrest. “Of course. Of fucking course,” you grumbled.

Then you began to weigh your options. The first idea that came to your mind was walking home, but you quickly decided against it as you were too exhausted and it was too far. 

Your next idea was to walk over to The Hawkins Post and see if you could catch a ride with Jonathan. But you knew that wherever Jonathan was, Nancy would also be. For a moment, you contemplated swallowing your embarrassment and fear and just do it, but again, you decided against that option.

Then you thought about using the phone in the office to call Steve, but you had no idea if he was even home.

And after running through all of the ideas in your mind, you last ditch plan walked past your peripheral.

You shoved all of your disgust down and hopped out of your car, rushing to try and catch up.

“Billy!” you shouted, trying to stuff your keys back in your bag as you jogged over to him.

He stopped and turned to look at you, part-confusion and part-annoyance wrinkling his features. “What?” he huffed.

“Can you, um...” You shifted awkwardly, the reality of the moment catching up to you. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? My car won’t start.”

He rolled his eyes, fishing a pack of cigarettes out from his leather jacket. “Y’know, any other night I’d love to, but I’ve actually got plans tonight. Call a tow truck or something.”

“Billy, please.” Your shoulders slumped. “I don’t live that far from you.”

“Who said I was going home?” 

Your jaw tightened and you pulled your bag higher up on your shoulder. “I’ll pay you $20. Just please.”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to do it? I saw you talking to him earlier.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! Goddammit-” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over your face. “$50.”

He stood there a moment, placing a cigarette between his teeth as he silently debated it. “Fine. But you’re paying me upfront.”

You bit your tongue and refrained from snapping at him, instead pulling your wallet from your bag and handing him a $50 bill. He snatched it from your fingers and shoved it in his back pocket before nodding his head over to his car and heading that way. 

Though the anxiety from asking him was gone, it was replaced with the anxiety of being in a vehicle with a man who very clearly hated your guts. Your brain was nagging you to just walk home, but you pushed the annoying warnings away and got in the passenger seat.

Billy had exited the parking lot before you even had a chance to put on your seatbelt, the engine roaring as he tore down the empty streets. The ride was silent other than that annoying engine, his godawful music, and your heart racing so loudly and harshly that you felt as if you were about to have a heart attack.

Whether it was your panic or your swarming thoughts, you had zoned out for the first few minutes of the ride. When you finally came to, you realized that you were nowhere near your house. “Did you take a wrong turn?” you mumbled, brows furrowing confusedly.

He scoffed, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. “No, I have an errand to run,” he explained as if you were stupid, as if you were already aware of his plans.

Oh my god, he’s gonna kill me.

You gulped, gripping onto your drawstring bag. “What errand?”

“Well, I had already made plans with Karen before you decided to ask for my help, so you’re tagging along.”

Your jaw dropped and you turned in your seat to face him. “You’re making me sit in the car while you hook up with Mrs. Wheeler? You said you were gonna take me home!”

“I did, but I didn’t specify when.” He was grinning from ear to ear, and you had to move your hands under your thighs so you didn’t smack that look off of his face.

“You motherfucker. Literally.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up and get in the back seat. I don't want her seeing you.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Excuse me?” 

“I said-”

His words were cut off by a large object hitting the windshield, making both of you jump and causing him to lose control of the vehicle. The car spun off of the road and collided into a tree on your side, making Billy’s head collide into his door and crushing your door into your body.

A slew of curses and grunts fell from your mouth as you worked your way out of the seat, feeling your ribs ache with each breath as you finally got out from between the door and the center console. You sat down on the center console and gripped onto the back of the seat for balance.

“Oh, no,” Billy grumbled from beside you, eyes wide as he took in the damage. The stereo still spat out a distorted and garbled sound that resembled the music that were playing earlier as Billy tried to restart the car, to no avail. “Piece of shit.”

You finally glanced over at him. “You’re bleeding,” you wheezed out, watching the blood drip down his forehead and into his eye.

He reached up and touched the wound, pulling away and glancing down at his fingers with disdain. “Shit.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel before shoving his door open and crawling out. You followed behind him, collapsing to the ground beside his feet. You gripped onto his arm and heaved yourself up.

Billy left your side to attempt to pry the passenger door open, only for a spew of expletives to fall from his mouth. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks for asking,” you huffed, leaning against the car and clutching your right side as he stomped past you and over to the front of the car.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, leaning close to the windshield and gliding his finger along the spiderwebbed glass. “What the hell?”

A strange ooze clung to his finger, stretching between his hand and the windshield with a strong elasticity. “Fuck.”

A rustling in the shrubs near the building you stood by attracted both of your attention, your heart leaping to your throat.

“Who’s there!” Billy shouted, his body standing straight up.

“I don’t think it’s a who,” you grumbled, reaching for your pocket knife in your back pocket.  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

As you opened your mouth to explain, Billy fell to the ground and was lugged away by a snaking vine. You screamed, but before you could move onto the car and off of the ground, a similar vine wrapped around your legs and dragged you through the dirt

[blue-bird-kny]

Hello everyone~ Ik that someone requested this awhile back, but some of my earlier request have been lost so I sort of wrote what I remember from the request. I’m sorry if its not exactly what you were looking for, but enjoy~Amanda

“Apology Accepted”

Your place in the Demon Slayer Corps was to not exist; better said, you were part of an elite team that specialized in staying hidden, stealthy executing missions given directly from the mouth of your superior. Most members in the corps thought you all to be a myth and it was intended to stay that way. Aside from Oyakata-sama, the only others who knew of your lethal team were the Hashira’s and another select few.

When you met Sanemi, you feared for your life; literally. Your uniform required you have half your face hidden, but you slipped up, exposing yourself to others who weren’t supposed to know of your identity. By the time you and Sanemi successfully finished the mission, you’d grimmly accepted that the only appropriate form of punishment was execution. Alas, Oyakata-sama graciously saw past your mistake and pardoned your ‘crimes’. You and Sanemi continued seeing each other, eventually falling into a secret love. 

You were never one to try and argue with Sanemi; in your entire relationship, you could count on one hand how many times you’ve had to so much as raise your voice with him (that didn’t mean that man didn’t bring you close many, many times).You watched in utter horror and fury at the ruthless scene that was unfortunately unfolding before you. Sanemi could sometimes be a little too rough, too blunt, too brash, but this was another level.

Your ears rung as you watched you boyfriend viciously pry the poor, sweet young girl from the battered box on the ground, her blood spilling onto the ground at his expense. “That idiot! He couldn’t just stand in line like the rest of the Hashira!” you fumed. You had been standing there on the sideline during the whole meeting, hidden from the view of others, watching helplessly as the whole spectacle unravelled, unable to intervene. “It isn’t your place” you reminded yourself every time you involuntarily took a step out of the shadows to stop Saenmi’s wild sword from striking once more.

“C’mere demon, take a piece of my arm and prove to everyone that you're no different than the others” Sanemi taunted, waving his bloody arm in front of the salivating girl, her eyes welling with tears. “Don’t” You silently pleaded the girl, her brother struggling, watching with wide eyes under the heavy force of Obanai’s elbow. You couldn’t help smiling as the demon girl pulled away refusing to even look at Sanemi.

The meeting came to a quick end soon after; your intense glare never once leaving Sanemi’s head.“Just you wait, once Oyakata-sama leaves there will be no reason for me to just stand here”. From a few feet away, Sanemi shivered “Something’s not right here” he looked around warily, bowing to Oyakata-sama’s receding form.

You walked calmly with your head held high, your sights set on a certain white-haired male. To everyone else, you looked like any other peron, but to your hot-headed boyfriend, you looked terrifying. Your eyes locked with his, “that's it” he concluded, “she’s what's not right”. The woman coming towards him was not the usual calm girl he was used to, this was another monster in itself. 

He stilled, unable to look away from your fierce eyes, instantly noticing the way your hands uncharastically balled at your side. “What are you-” he started, silenced by your clenched jaw and flared nostrils. For the first time, Sanemi felt small in your presence.

Your hands suddenly wrapped around the back of clothing, forcing him into some semblance of a bow. He was completely thrown off guard, he didn’t even have the will to resist. Your gaze softened as you watched the reunited Kamado siblings. “I’m sorry for all the trouble he’s caused you, nothing can excuse his behavior but please accept my apology” you voiced clearly, joining your boyfriend in a bow.

“Nezuko wait-” a small hand pat your head, your eyes rising to meet those of the demon girls' pink ones. “I’m rooting for you” you whispered, smiling at the girl's obvious kind, innocent heart. You were pulled back to reality when you felt Sanemi’s questioning gaze from beside you. His form rigid as you pulled him upright, wordlessly excusing yourself, marching away to a secluded area far from here.

The Hashira’s stood dumbfounded, unmoving from the spots they’d just witnessed the whole ordeal from. “Who the hell was that?” Obanai was the first to break the silence. “Hmm seems as though that rock head has found himself a pretty lady to call his own” Uzui announced loudly, his large hands resting on his hips. Mitsuri sputtered next to him, “Excuse me” she muttered covering her face. “I wouldn't want to be Sanemi-san right now, she was terrifying” Rengoku stated, gaining a chorus of “yea” from the others.

Finally resting in a private area, you released your hold on Sanemi. His tough exterior was slowly cracking, never had he managed to make you so upset, he was unsure of how to fix it. “What the fuck is your problem Y/n?! You can’t just walk around here and you fucking know it”- that was not the way to fix it. Taking a deep breath you started steadily, “You just attacked a CHILD Sanemi! Injured her and forced her brother to watch. She’s in a situation she never asked for and here you are making it harder and you expect me to not have a problem?” you seethed.

“Oh please, you know those wounds healed right after my sword left her body. Plus, if it weren’t for me she’d have been killed” he fought back with just as much force, but it didn’t matter to you. “She still feels pain, Sanemi!” your voice dropped to an eerie quiet, “You’re so quick to forget that the only reason I’m alive, that we could even be together is because Oyakata-sama pardoned me. If not for that, my head would have rolled off a wooden block. So please, don’t think for one second you saved her”

Silence engulfed you both, neither of you sure what to say next. “Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t think it through, I fucked up” he finally spoke his eyes searching yours for forgiveness. “ I couldn’t help it, you know she’s a risky chance we're all taking by allowing her to live, but I was out of line” he admitted honestly. You softened at his honesty, Sanemi was a walking wall built to exclude others from his life, you were grateful to be let in during moments like this.

You gently stepped closer to the scarred man, taking his cheek in your palm “I understand that Sanemi but we need to trust her. I see something in her and clearly the others do too, I know that your hesitance comes from your past but we need to trust this decision”

Sanemi thought for a long moment, his anger and fears fizzling away slowly at your kind touch. “I trust you and for right now, that's enough” he concluded. “Thank you” you embraced the man in forgiveness, his arm finding their way to your waist. Sanemi was grateful you weren’t furious any more, he’d never admit it but without you he’d be miserable.

Masterlist

Thank you all for reading, stay safe~Amanda

[evolmaze]

truth or drink

summary -  truth or dare never works out, but when you add drinking things just get worse

paring - han x reader ft. twice, the rest of stray kids, bts, and blackpink

genre - fluff, angst, comfort | friends to potential-lovers!au, nonidol!au

word count - 4.6k words

warnings - slight harassment and bullying by O.C. against reader, drinking, very minimal slut shaming of O.C., swearing

 masterlist

“I don’t even wanna go tonight,” Dahyun said, laying on your bed. “Who’s even going to be there?”

“The usual crowd I think, us girls, Han and his friends, Tae and his friends, and I think Jennie and Lisa are coming too,” you conclude, putting the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen Jennie in ages,” Dahyun commented, suddenly sitting up. “I suppose I can make an appearance.”

“That’s more like it,” you laughed, turning around. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely stunning!” she cooed, “Han isn’t gonna know what he’s missing.”

You scoffed, “I’m not doing this for him, I’m doing this for myself.”

“Sure, sure, and you’re absolutely not wearing that blue sweater because he told you it looked nice on you last week?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not,” you declared, though a slight red hue appeared on your face. “Come one we gotta go soon anyway. Party starts in 20 minutes.”

“No one ever shows up right away, Mina and Jihyo said they aren’t coming till closer to eight.” Dahyun whined, going into the closer to change.

“Yeah, but I promised Bang Chan and Felix I’d help set up, so unless you wanna find your own way there, you’re stuck with me,” you laughed, grabbing your jacket off your desk. Dahyun groaned, but reappeared minutes later, ready to go.

“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

______

“y/n, Dahyun, so glad you could be here to help!” Felix said as he opened the door, quick to grab a couple of bags from you and Dahyun. “Please, please come on in!”

“Thanks, Lix,” you said, closing the door behind. “Any word on when people are planning to show up?”

“It varies really, Tae and his friends said sometime around eight-ish, Changbin and Minho said they’d be here around 7:30, I’m assuming the girls will be here around then as well?”

“Yeah, Sana just texted me now, said they’ll be here in about 20,” Dahyun said, as she started taking bottles out of her backpack and adding them to the drink table.

“Oh that’s awesome, I’m so excited to see them!” you cheered, going over to help her. 

“Excited as you are to see Han?” she teased, nudging your shoulder as she poured a bottle of vodka into a giant container you had bought specifically for wop. Across the room, Felix chuckled as he untangled some cords for the sound system. 

“Oh my god, please shut up,” you plead, your face a slight hue of red as you unscrewed your own bottle. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Sure, sure. Felix did you know that she literally hasn’t stopped talking about this party all week, seems a little coincidental that this also happens to be the first party Han has been able to come to since he left to go visit his parents,”

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you muttered, unable to keep a straight face as the two of them laughed. Dahyun may have had a point, Han had left two weeks ago to visit his parents, which meant you hadn’t seem him for a couple weeks due to conflicting schedules. You missed him, missed his jokes, his vibrant personality. You guys had met about six months ago when Dahyun invited you to a party at her place, and ever since then you guys had hit it off.

“Oh leave the poor girl alone won’t you?” Chan said as he entered the room, laptop in hand. “So she has a thing for the kid, it’s not like you two haven’t ever had a crush.”

“Yeah,” you chimed in, gracious for Chan’s appearance. “If I remember correctly Lix you had quite the infatuation for a certain barista down at Two Rivers, right?” You grinned at his red face, and inability to rebuttal, “and Dahyun,” you said, facing her. “Don’t make me bring up the infamous crush you had last fall-”

“Okay!” Dahyun said suddenly, smacking a hand over your mouth. “Point taken! Sorry y/n, you know I think it’s cute that you like him, I think y’all would be cute together! I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “Apology accepted, sorry for bringing up your past, I promise not to do it again, unless circumstances call for it.” you grinned, running away from her as she chased you with an empty bottle.

______

Music blared from the speakers in the backyard as you sat with Felix and Sana, currently exchanging your thoughts on the latest season of stranger things. “There’s no way Hopper’s actually dead,” you argued, taking a drink. “Why else would they include that clip of him in the promo?”

“I agree!” Sana said, “Plus that’d be so cruel for them to kill him off like that just as he and El were developing a real relationship!”

“Right, and I’d rather die than not see Hopper and Joyce get together, literally made for each other!” Felix agreed, the three of you laughed at his sudden outburst, but sudden stopped as Sana whispered.

“Who invited them here?” you turned towards the entrance of the house, and spotted exactly who she was talking about. Currently talking to Chan and Jennie were two girls who you had briefly met your freshmen year, they were awful; mean and cruel just for their own enjoyment. Unfortunately, at a school so small, circles overlapped, and somehow they ended up at this party.

“God, I hate them,” you muttered, taking another sip of your drink. You turned back around. “Think they’ll stay long?”

“Well Aria has a huge crush on Chan I think,” Felix said thoughtfully, “So yeah unfortunately.”

“Fantastic,” you muttered again, annoyed that you even had to be in the same room as them. It wasn’t that Aria and her friend Soon were ever mean to you directly. In fact, you even used to be friends with Soon a couple years ago, but times change, and so do people. While you had learned more about yourself and learned from your wrongdoings, Soon found Aria and together they adhered to this “preppy-high-school-mean-girl” bullshit attitude that never really wore off. 

“Oh don’t be sad, y/n! Look who just showed up,” Dahyun said suddenly as she appeared behind you, wiggling her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at her as she sat down beside you, but turned around anyway, already knowing who had shown up.

Han Jisung walked through the doors and you hated to admit it, but your heart leaped out of your chest. It had been so long since you had seen him, and not to be cliché, but he was literally glowing. He looked amazing, his hair was still that same raven color you loved. You remembered when he had first dyed it two months ago, he was nervous to go back to a dark color after being blonde for so long, but you had assured him he looked good in any hair color.

“y/n, earth or y/n, hello?” Felix said, waving his hand in front of your face, you jumped, not realizing you had zoned out. Sana and Dahyun laughed as you blushed. “Sorry what?”

“I asked if you wanted to go grab a new drink?” Dahyun laughed, and you look down at your drink.

‘Yeah sure,” you agreed, laughing at yourself as you folllowed her back inside. You crossed the yard, mentally preparing youself to walk by Han, it was dumb, really. He was your friend, there was nothing to be personal about, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t make you nervous. It wasn’t till a weeks ago that you had even developed these feelings for him, and if it wasn’t for a drunken night at Chan’s, no one would have even known you had felt that way, but when you’re drunk, your filter leaves you, and that night you spilled the beans to Dahyun, Sana, Felix, and Chan over a game of truth or dare. You tried to keep it lowkey, you did, but as you got to know him better, it was becoming harder and harder to avoid it.

Dahyun passed Han and Changbin as they talked on the porch, as you did the same someone grabbed your wrist, “y/n!” Han said, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t think you could pass me and not say anything!”

You laughed, and looked at Dahyun who wiggled her eyebrows. “Changbin,” she said, looking past you. “Wanna help me grab some drinks?”

“Sure,” he agreed, brushing past you. “Nice to see you, y/n.”

“You too,” you said, taking his seat next to Han. “So, how was home?”

“It was great,” he said. ‘It was nice to see family and celebrate my grandma’s birthday, but I’m glad to be back.”

“I’m glad you’re back too,” you agreed. “Someone needs to be the life of the party.”

“Oh, you don’t think that Jin already has that handled?” he asked, and you both looked into the house, where he was currently, furiously rapping some song on the karaoke machine.

You laughed, “I’ll admit that he’s pretty chaotic when he wants to be, but there’s only one person I know who enjoys starting conga lines at the most random of times. Remember when you started one when we walked to the grocery store? People were so confused!” you said, and he laughed. 

“Well I’m glad someone appreciates my antics,” he grinned, taking a sip of his own drink. “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

“Nothing too exciting, just the usual.”

“Bullshit, I follow your photography page, that place you went last week looked incredible, you’ll have to take me sometime,” he said, nudging your shoulder.

You blushed, “Ahh thanks, it was so pretty, a super nice hike too, you’d love it. The sunset there was incredible!”

“Well we’ll have to make sure we go at night then,” he mused, and you grinned.

“Oh absolutely, when are you free next week?” you asked, hoping to set something up, hanging out with Han one-on-one was a rare and fun occasion.

“Let me check,” he said, pulling out his phone. About to pull yours out, you suddenly hear the music cut out. A chorus of boos and cheers resounded throughout the party.

“Sorry everyone!” Chan said, mic in hand. “Aria and Soon here wanted me to let everyone know, that if you’re interested, there’s a game of truth or dare happening over here.”

You rolled your eyes, poor Chan, you looked over at Han. “Should we go save Chan from an evening of Aria’s torment and neverending questions?”

“Good idea,” he agreed, standing. “Ayo Seungmin, I.N., you guys wanna go play a couple rounds of truth or dare.”

“Why not?” Seungmin said, standing up, with I.N. following suite. Changbin and Dahyun appeared next to you, with a handful of drinks.

“So true or dare, huh?” Dahyun said. “Classic Aria.”

“It truly is her signature,” you agreed, grabbing two drinks from her and handing one to Han. “Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

You made your way over to the firepit where Aria and Chan sat, surround by some others. Jennie and Lisa sat to the left of Chan, while Seungmin and I.N. sat next to them. Soon was next to Aria, and Mina, Jihyo and Sana were next to her. You took a seat in between Dahyun and Han, and Changbin in between you three and Felix. The group waited as a few more people piled in, Jimin and Jungkook taking sets behind Changbin on the brick wall, and Hoseok and Tae taking up seats on the wall as well behind Chan.

‘“Let’s get started, shall we?” Aria said, scanning the group. “Felix, truth or dare?”

______

Numerous rounds had passed since you first sat down, and the rules were simple. If you didn’t want to answer a truth or do a dare, you had to take a shot, but the catch was you only got three shots per game. So far people had jumped into the pool while fully clothed, made out with random party goers, and made prank calls to people who weren’t at the party. So far, you had told everyone which professor you would sleep with if given the chance, called your good friend Solar to tell her her cat had ran away, and told everyone about your most embarrassing moment from 5th grade.

Currently, Tae was attempted to walk along the entire edge of the pool without falling in. “You got this, Tae!” Jimin cheered, getting everyone to start a chant of encouragement. You did your best ro hold in your laughter as Tae slipped at the last second and fell into the pool. A chorus of laughs resounded, and the game continued on.

By now, some people had left to get drinks or eat food, so the only people left were you, Han, Dahyun, Chan, Aria, Soon, Felix, Sana, Seungmin, and I.N.

“Aria, truth or dare?” Soon asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Dare, obviously.” Aria said, a tone of cockiness in her voice. “Truth’s are loser who enjoy being an open book,” she commented, glancing in your direction. You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink.

“Takes one to know one,” you muttered under your breath, across the fire, Chan chuckled, amused at your lack of filter coming out.

“What was that?” Aria said, obviously irritated that Chan had laughed at your retort.

“Oh, nothing.” you said, looking up at her as she glared daggers into your eyes. “Soon what’s her dare?”

“Aria, I dare you to make out with Chan!” she said excitedly, and the rest of the group, minus Aria, groaned.

“Shocker,” Dahyun said, and you looked over at Chan who looked less than thrilled to be in this position. 

“Hey don’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do,” you chimed in, worried about Aria’s influence over your friend.

“It’s okay, y/n.” Chan said, taking a quick shot. “I can handle her.”

You sighed, and took a long sip of your drink as the two of them made out for the next 15 seconds or so, as they pulled apart Aria looked at you. “Yeah, y/n, Channie’s a big boy, he can handle himself. Plus he’d probably prefer a girl with experience anyway, unlike you.”

You rolled your eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time that night, “Sorry Chan, just looking out for you, didn’t want you to get an STD or something.”

Alcohol had this affect on you that sometimes you didn’t realize what you were saying until you had said it, as the words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them due to the way Aria started you down, a look of hatred in her eyes. Around you, everyone lost their minds at your reply, some congratulating you on your comeback, others looking shocked the words even came out of your mouth. You weren’t sure how to feel, on one hand Aria deserved a taste of her own medicine for how she belittled every person she ever met that didn’t meet her standards, but also you were never one to slut-shame, so who knows what came over you. Beside you, Dahyun was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, and Han looked so shocked you weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or bad thing.

Aria narrowed her eyes at you, unsure of what had come over you, but sure of what her next move was going to be, ”y/n, truth or dare?”

“Uh-” you started. 

“Don’t bother answering, I’ll pick for you since I already know the answer: truth. y/n, tell me, what’s it like to be a lonely virgin, with no romantics pursuits besides having a crush on a close friend who doesn’t even think of you that way?”

The group quieted down pretty quick after that, you stiffened, shocked she had said that, confused how she even knew that, but mostly concerned of where this was going to go. You were sure that if someone took a photo of you now, you would look like a ghost. Aria cocked an eyebrow at you, “Oh y/n,” she feigned concerned. “Cat got your tongue? Need some help with that? Must be tough to like someone who doesn’t even think of you that way, right? Who goes away for weeks and doesn’t even text you? Let alone think of you in any other way besides a friend. You can call me a slut all you want, but at least I get the things I want, I don’t sit around and wait for them to happen like some stupid hopeless romantic. At least boys answer my texts, what do you get? A pity reply to one of your numerous attempts at a real relationship with him?”

“Aria, shut the fuck up.” Dahyun said beside you, you were frozen in spot, so utterly humiliated, but also amazed at her level of intel, how the hell did she find out?

“Why?” Aria asked. “It’s okay for y/n to blatantly slut-shame me in front of my crush, that I can’t expose her in front of hers?”

“That’s not the point-’” Dahyun said, anger seething from her body. You put a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you said, trying you best to remain calm. “I mean she right, right? What I did was a low-bow, and I’m truly sorry, Aria.” you said, trying to look as sincere as possible despite your mental stability rapidly declining. “It’s only fair you attack right back, but if you don’t mind, I think we’re pretty even now; I think I’ve heard enough.” You finished, your voicing cracking slightly at the end. You quickly got up, and made your way inside the house, ignoring the calls from the rest of the group.

As you entered the house, you got some looks from everyone you passed. Some concerned, some confused, and some just straight up lost as to why you were running through the house crying.

It was your own fault this had happened, you knew Aria was the type to have dirt on everyone, so why didn’t you think about the fact that’d she have dirt on you? You shouldn’t have even responded to her, no matter how much she got under your skin, Aria always won every battle she started, but you never expected her to rebuttal with things so cruel and close to your heart. You just hoped people were too distracted to piece together the underlying meaning.

Your phone buzzed rapidly in your pocket, a call from Dahyun on the screen. You sighed, and picked up the call. “Hey-”

“Are you okay? I swear to god I’ll kill her for saying those things about you! That was so fucked up, you made one comment and she spilled your entire load of dirty laundry for everyone to hear. Where are you? We should go home, forget-”

“Dahyun, slow down.” you laughed, feeling a little less awful than you did before. “I’m in the bathroom, I’ll be back out in a little bit, no need to have Aria ruin this whole party for us.”

“Oh that’s good, I’m glad your okay,” she said. “Aria’s gone anyway, after her little performance, Soon and Chan convinced her to go home for the night. The bitch was too intoxicated to form a coherent thought after she used them all on you.”

You laughed at that, “Serves her right, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sounds good, bye!” she agreed, hanging up the phone. You looked in the mirror, wiping off your mascara that had run onto your face. You pondered how the rest of the night would go, everyone had heard the embarrassing details of your life, but on the other hand, fuck Aria and fuck her for trying to ruin a perfectly good night. Yeah she every right to be upset at you, but unlike her, you could bounce back from this, you determined. How would things go with Han? You had no idea, you suppose it depending on his ability to read between the lines, and whether or not he was too intoxicated to do that or not. 

“It was what it is at this point, I guess.” you said to yourself, accepting your fate, whatever it may be. It was odd, you had always imagined that your crush finding out you like them would be mortifying, but you felt oddly calm, maybe it’s because you knew thing would be okay. You had great friends, supportive friends who would stand by you no matter what, and even if Han did know, you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be mean about it, maybe weirded out, but that was only temporary, cause at least then you’d have closure and could move on. 

You exited the bathroom, ready to get another drink and hang with Dahyun and Felix, and everyone else if they were still around.

“y/n!” Sana yelled from the end of the hallway, running up to you. “Are you okay? God I can’t believe Aria did that, she’s awful, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, really.” you assured her. “Aria’s a bitch, but it’s not like I didn’t have it coming with what I had said to her.”

“I guess, but she said some really personal things that weren’t her business at all. Everyone knows that she gets around here and there, she even admitted it! You weren’t saying things we didn’t already know,” she said, looking annoyed. “But if you’re fine, then so am I. Wanna grab another drink?” 

“Yes, please.” you laughed, following her into the living room. As you were there getting drinks, you assured many people that were at the fire that you were okay, and you didn’t need them to kill Aria for you.

“y/n!” you stopped talking to Sana and Changbin, and turned around to see Chan, he looked frazzled, a look of worry on his face. “Can we talk?” he asked, you bid your goodbyes to Sana and Changbin, and followed Chan back outside.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“First I wanna say I’m so sorry for Aria’s behavior, I know it doesn’t mean much, but she was pretty drunk, but I’m not sorry that I didn’t do anything to stop it. I’m the reason she was even here, and it’s not cool that she did that to you.”

“Chan, Chan, it’s fine, really. Aria isn’t your responsibility, you’re not her dad or boyfriend, so you couldn’t have predicted she would have done that. I accept your apology, but there’s no need for it, truly.” you assured him, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good. The other reason I wanted to talk to you was because of that,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the fire. At the fire was Han, Felix and Dahyun sat with him, but he looked distant. It didn’t seem like he was paying them any attention. 

“Is he okay?” you asked. You felt bad, this was your fault.

“Dahyun, Felix, and I have been trying to talk to him, get him to come inside, but he isn’t really speaking to anyone. We all figured he might talk to you; but only if you’re comfortable doing so.” Chan explained, you nodded. “Of course, he’s still my friend.”

Chan and you walked over to the fire, and as soon as Felix and Dahyun saw you were with him, they stood up, leaving with Chan. As Dahyun passed you, she whispered in your ear. “I think he’s just confused is all.” You nodded, understanding.

Han didn’t look up as you sat down, just kept staring into the fire. You weren’t sure what to do, it wasn’t as if you had done any malicious to him in any way, but you’d also understand if he didn’t want anything to do with you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence; he didn’t look up. You sighed, “I know you must feel really weird with everything that Aria had said, I swear I didn’t know she was going to say that stuff at all; I honestly don’t know how she found out, but I’m sorry that that indirectly put you in a weird position.”

“Why are you sorry?” he muttered. “It’s not like you asked her to do it.”

“No I didn’t, but what she said involved you, and that’s something you should have heard from me, privately, not in front of all our friends at a bonfire,” you reasoned, nervously chuckling at the hilarity of it all. Who would have thought this was how you night would end? “So, I’m sorry.”

Han put his head in hands, running his fingers through his hair. He sighed, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I-uh, I don't know,” you stuttered, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t want to make things weird, change our friendship in any way. I like being your friend, and we hadn’t been friends for that long when I first realized, so I choose not to say anything in order to keep being your friend. If I’m honest, I thought I’d get over it by now.”

“You thought something like that would end our friendship?” he asked, looking up at you. “y/n, that’s crazy.”

“Well, I don't know!” you exclaimed, “How could I be sure how you’d react? We aren’t exactly best friends, and I hadn’t seen you in awhile, so it felt awkward to hang around after she had said that. Figured it would be easier to leave so you wouldn’t be obligated to talk about it if you didn’t want to. I’m sorry if I hurt you, or made things confusing, that wasn’t my intention, I just didn't know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I get it, feelings are weird, and you can never be sure how things will turn out, but I still wish you would have said something, don’t you trust me?”

“Han, we may be friends, and I do trust you, but this is probably the one thing I wouldn’t have told you about.” you laughed awkwardly. “Usually people don’t tell their crushes they like them till they’re sure their crush feels the same.”

He blushed, “Ah yeah, that’s a good point, but hey! Who’s to say I don’t feel the same.”

You paused, “You like me?” What was happening right now?

“Well maybe, I don’t know!” he laughed nervously turning an even darker shade of red, and you chuckled. “I feel like we’ve become better friends lately, and I like having you around, like spending time with you. I don’t wanna rush into anything, but I would be down to start hanging out more one on one.”

You smiled, “I feel the same. I don’t want to rush things either, and I’d rather us both be on the same page about it if this does become something in the future.”

“Well I hope it at least means we’ll become better friends,” he said hopefully. 

“Me too,” you agreed, feeling a weight being lifted off you shoulders.

“But I could be okay with us being in a relationship too, I suppose.” he mused, pretending to look thoughtful. You laughed, and lightly kicked his foot.

“I suppose I could be okay with that too,” you joked, and he grinned. “Well if you’re up for it, the offer to go hiking still stands.”

“Let’s do it!” he said excitedly. “We can take some sick pics at the top too!”

“Oh absolutely,” you grinned. “I’d love nothing more.” Han smiled at you, a glint of something promising in his eyes. Everything was going to be fine, you could feel it.

______

a/n: hope y’all like this one, it took a different turn than I thought it was going to, but I still like how it turned out!

[lawgrain]

Chocolate Strawberries

Hiii! Sooo this fic is actually a request but that almost feels to light of a word for it. It’s literally all @mizuraisu‘s idea! They asked me to sort of bring their head cannon to life and that’s what this is! So credit for the idea is soooo Izu and she deserves all the love for that! I hope you guys like how I wrote it <3

(Oh and I know that first part looks like it might go angsty. It’s not, it’s fluff)

Kirishima didn’t know when it started, but he liked Bakugou. He liked that Bakugou would drop whatever he was doing to help him with homework despite his grumbling. He liked that Bakugou would be endlessly grumpy if they accidentally kept him up past 8pm. He liked that Bakugou would sometimes bang on his wall in the morning just to make sure he was awake and getting ready for class.

Everything. He liked everything about Bakugou.

And Bakugou didn’t like him.

The worst part was, Kirishima had thought Bakugou liked him. Bakugou made him feel like it at least. He made Kirishima feel more confident and like he could be more than he was but that was before he saw it.

They had been in class one day and nothing special was going on. If anything it was a boring day. Present Mic was droning on about some obscure grammar thing that he had no chance of remembering and the class was all in various states of zoning out. Kirishima himself was staring towards the windows where Bakugou was and then it happened.

Kirishima didn’t know what prompted it but suddenly Midoriya was leaning forward in his chair, whispering in Bakugou’s ear. This alone brought Kirishima’s thoughts to a halt. Since when had those two been that close? And right as things seemed to be going back to normal with Midoriya away from Bakugou, Bakugou moved back towards Midoriya.

Stunned, Kirishima watched as Bakugou tilted his head back onto Midoriya's desk with a slight pout on his face. Then Midoriya took out a piece of candy from his bag, slipping it into Bakugou’s mouth.

That was it.

Just the small intimate moment that Kirishima never thought could happen, happened. Bakugou and Midoriya, two people he thought were barely friends, all of the sudden seemed to be more than friends. And Kirishima didn’t even know when that happened. He had no idea when it started or how he could’ve missed it but he did.

And that hurt.

It hurt a lot but they were still friends weren’t they? He still cared about Bakugou and maybe Bakugou didn’t reciprocate as much as he thought… But it was Bakugou. And Kirishima still couldn’t help liking everything about him.

It’s just now that “everything” had the exception of “liking Midoriya”. And Kirsishima couldn’t do a thing about it because who was he to tell Bakugou who to like.

The only problem is that left Kirishima in a gloomy state of doom and apparently his friends had all planned a movie night that night. Obviously that meant Bakugou would be there and so that meant that with Kirishima’s fresh turmoil, he’d still have to face his crush. But the world didn’t stop for him to wallow and apparently that meant that during the course of the movie night, Bakugou ended up with his head in Kirishima’s lap.

It was official Kirishima was going to die. He was going to die a very unmanly death all because he could not handle his crush laying on his lap.

But that’s exactly where Kirishima was in life right now as he tried to focus on the movie. And he couldn’t really focus now could he? Not when Bakugou kept making vague pouting faces at Kaminari. And just how adorable was that fact. Yet still, he couldn’t quite figure out why Bakugou was pouting in the first place. Kirishima made another mental effort to bring his attention away from Bakugou. And this time it worked until Bakugou started to lift his head up from Kirishima’s lap, drawing Kirishima's eyes back towards him. Kirishima watched yet again something unbelievable happen.

Bakugou had apparently lifted his hand to grab Kaminari’s wrist, stopping the electric boy's motions to and from the bowl of popcorn. With withering glare he spoke at Kaminari.

“Just give me a piece already,” Bakugou growled and then ate the popcorn from Kaminari’s fingers and licked them.

Oh god.

What?

All of the sudden everything went dark. Literally.

“What the fuck Pikachu!” Bakugou called amongst a chorus of their other friends also complaining.

“S-sorry,” Kaminari sounded dazed and shook.

Bakugou immediately responded in anger. “You fucking shocked me!”

“You just- the popcorn,” Kaminari's voice now embodied the desperation that Kirishima felt.

What just happened?

“Yeah, I wanted some goddamn popcorn. Now figure out how to get the shitty power back on.”

The rest of their friends, having no clue what just transpired, continued in kind. Sero got up and headed to find the dorms breaker panel to try and figure out if the could get the power back on. Meanwhile the girls were calling out to him, letting him know if there was any change in the power. Despite the dark, Kaminari and Kirishima stared at each other in disbelief.

Neither could compute what had just happened and both needed the other to confirm what they’d experience.

That’s when it hit him. Midoriya. He had done a similar thing to Midoriya and Kirishima had thought it meant that they were in a relationship. But what if it hadn’t? He had just done the same thing to Kaminari after all. And Kirishima knew they weren’t a thing. 

But why on earth did Bakugou do that? Looking at Kaminari, Kirishima realized he should probably explain his findings to his classmate. After they fixed the power and finished their movie night, the two went to Kaminari’s room and Kirishima filled him in.

“He did what?” Kaminari asked at the end of his retelling of the events.

Kirishima nodded, “Same thing dude, but to Midoriya.”

“Midoriya?”

“I know.” It was just as bizarre to Kirishima as it was to Kaminari. If they weren’t actually dating, then why did that happen?

Suddenly Kaminari looked as if an idea had struck him, “Let’s try it again.”

“Try it- Try what again?” Kirishima asked in confusion.

“Giving him food,” Kaminari explained. “But you know, like actually feeding it to him like today.”

“Do you want him to kill us?”

Kaminari paused at that. They both knew if they crossed a line, they were dead. And this plan? It was a death wish.

Kaminari brightened again. “You should do it then, man!”

“No! How’s that fair?” Kirishima spluttered. Why should he be the one to be killed? It was Kami’s idea.

“Come on, you know he likes you best,” Kaminari whined and Kirishima blushed. “If anyone can do it you can.”

Kirishima thought about it. Bakugou probably wouldn’t kill him right? Like he might get mad but Kirishima could try and play it off as just offering Bakugou food. It couldn’t go that wrong. Plus if Midoriya and Kaminari could do it, surely Kirishima could too.

With that flimsy reasoning in mind, Kirishima agreed to the plan, much to the other boys delight. And at lunch the next day, he could feel Kaminari watching him in anticipation. He could also feel his heart pounding with nerves.

Could he really do this? Or was he really just going to die?

He had to be manly and just do it. Screw the consequences, he wanted answers. So without a word, Kirishima brought a grape towards Bakugou’s mouth and the table fell into a stunned silence as Bakugou opened his mouth to accept the fruit.

And fuck, Bakugou was adorable.

After eating the fruit, Bakugou adopted the most content look Kirishima had ever seen on him. His shoulders relaxed and he was far calmer than he usually ever was with the Bakusquad. Kirishima could feel his eyes were wide staring at Bakugou and Bakugou must have realized this too.

“What?” He asked and to everyone’s bewilderment, he didn’t even sound mad.

“Nothing,” Kirishima answered quickly before a thought occurred to him. “Would you like some more?”

Bakugou eyed the grapes and nodded. So for the rest of the lunch period, Kirishima would randomly feed Bakugou grapes and each time, he could feel his classmates' attention drawn to the action. Later that day, it was Ashido who led the confrontation.

“What was that?” She hissed. “Are you two dating now?”

And just like that, Kirishima explained his discovery for the second time. At the end of the story, his friends stared at him in an awed silence. It was Sero who finally broke the silence.

“Do you think he’d let us do that too?”

They all looked at each other. Would he? Would he let them all feed him different foods?

As it turned out, Bakugou would let them. The entire Bakusquad started giving the volatile teen treats throughout the day and it had an almost unexpected result. Bakugou, just like he had been when Kirishima fed him the grapes, became much more content throughout the days. Eventually the class started to take notice of the change and, while none of them asked about it directly, Kirishima could’ve sworn he saw Todoroki feed Bakugou some chocolates one day. On another occasion, Kaminari actually did adopt a death wish.

“What the FUCK WAS THAT YOU GRUBBY LITTLE POKEMON?” Kirishima was pretty sure the entire building heard Bakugou’s yell.

Kaminari snickered, “What? You like hot peppers.”

“Yeah, but not covered in fucking chocolate, you fucking moron!” Bakugou’s anger radiated from him. Kaminari was as good as dead.

That much was confirmed a few booms and a power outage later. Kaminari looked downright traumatized after snapping out of whey mode. And Bakugou…

Well Bakugou was sulking. A pout had once again found its way onto his face and if Kirishima didn’t value his life, he’d even say that Bakugou looked like a petulant child. Kirishima thought he might have an idea of what had put that look on his crush’s face. Later that night, Kirishima carried a bowl of chocolate strawberries to Bakugou’s room to try and test his theory.

Bakugou opened the door, took one look at the strawberries and opened his mouth.

Cute.

Kirishima put a strawberry in his mouth and was promptly let into Bakugou’s room. With that, Kirishima found themselves in a similar position as the day of the movie night. Bakugou’s head was placed in Kirishima’s lap and Kirishima was sat on top of Bakugou’s bed. The only difference was this time, Kirishima's fingers were carding through his spiky hair… And he was feeding Bakugou strawberries.

“Hey Bakugou,” Kirishima started in a soothing voice. “I’m sorry Kaminari didn’t give you the right food.”

“Dumbass Circuit Boy,” Bakugou grumbled.

Kirishima smiles at the pout on his face. “Feel better now that you got the strawberries?”

“Fuck off.”

Kirishima just gave Bakugou another strawberry, paying the comment no mind. Before he left that night to go back to his room, Bakugou stopped him with one last comment.

“Thanks.” Kirishima looked at Bakugou waiting for more. Bakugou continued, “For the strawberries. Now go to bed. I don’t want to have to yell at you to wake your shitty ass up in the morning.”

“Aww, Bakubro! You do care!”

“Get the fuck out.”

So manly.

After he left, Kirishima decided to do that again. He started taking random treats to Bakugou’s room and the other would let him in so they could either lounge around or eat while watching a movie. After a while, it almost became routine. During the day, everyone would give Bakugou random treats, they might hang out after classes, and in the evenings, Kirishima and Bakugou would just be together.

They didn’t ever do much but it was always special to Kirishima. It was enough just to exist around Bakugou and it seemed like Bakugou thought the same. At this point, the crush had long since graduated into love.

He loved everything about Bakugou. The way he’d fuss at people in a totally mom friend manner. The way his nose would crinkle at any candy flavors he didn’t like. The way he’d always make time for Kirishima so that they could talk or not talk and just be together.

He loved every single thing.

That’s why Kirishima was convinced Bakugou had just tried to kill him.

They’d been in the cafeteria and Jirou was primarily giving Bakugou snacks when it happened. Bakugou, instead of taking snacks from Jirou, turned to Kirishima and took his fries from him.

Except he took the fry that was halfway in his mouth.

And Kirishima was now dead. His heart was beating out of control and his eyes were wide open but he was still quantifiably dead. His brain had definitely stopped working and he couldn’t move because Bakugou had practically kissed him.

Bakugou kissed him.

Woah.

And worst of all he had no idea if it even counted. Judging by the looks they were getting, his classmates seemed to think so. Kirishima surely hoped that’s how Bakugou meant it at least. Upon the stares Bakugou felt the need to explain.

“I want fries instead, assholes. Stop staring like a bunch of idiots.”

With that command everyone went back to their business. And that left Kirishima confused. He decided it was finally time to man up and ask Bakugou where they stood. When that evening came, Kirishima marched his way towards Bakugou’s room with a bowl of strawberries in hand.

He was going to get some answers today.

Bakugou opened his door and smirked at the determined look on Kirishima’s face.

“Finally figure it out, Shitty Hair?” Bakugou asked with a challenge in his eyes.

“Huh?” Kirishima had not, in fact, ‘figured it out’.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I like you too moron. Wipe that stupid look off your face and give me strawberries.”

…

…

Kirishima got a boyfriend!

Later Bakugou told him that Kirishima had a ‘stupid cute look on his face’ and took a gamble that it meant that Kirishima was either going to tell him that he liked Bakugou, or ask if Bakugou liked him. And that he wanted to ‘skip the mushy shit’ and just ask. After that, they were an actual couple.

It had taken Kirishima a very short amount of time to realize that they were basically a couple before. In almost everything but title, they were together before they put a name to it. And months after they started dating, Kirishima finally asked the thing that had been bugging him.

“Hey Bakugou,” Bakugou looked up at Kirishima from where he stood. “How come you always eat food that we give you?”

“Because I’m hungry, idiot. I’ve always done that,” he said as if that were an explanation.

“But why?” Kirishima whined.

“Have you never seen any movies?” Bakugou smirked. “All rulers have their subjects feed them.”

...

His boyfriend was so goddamn manly.

End.

How’d you like it? Izu had asked me basically to do a story where Bakugou had just always been fed food throughout life (as in everyone did it) because he saw it on tv (like how you’d feed a god grapes thing) and UA finding out and being shook. 

And that’s me condensing her idea. She also had described a lot of the different scenes that happened in here and had a lot more outside of what I wrote. They just didn’t know how to put their ideas into a story and I was more than happy to help! And of course I put a lawgrain vibe into it as always (Like I doubt they expected me to make it a KiriBaku fic and they probs didn’t know that the thing would be all Kiri’s pov. I had fun ^_^)

[mopeytropey]

Author’s note: This moodboard for chapter 3 was not a shameless excuse to post Lincoln glistening and shirtless ... OR WAS IT? 

a beer buds series: chapter 3

(available below & posted on AO3 here)

Timeline: this takes place during chapter 3 of 'apu' after Clarke has gone running with Lexa but before game night at Lexa + Costia's apartment

Beer: Whirlpool NEW ENGLAND PALE ALE

Soft and citrusy, Whirlpool is Night Shift's flagship New England pale ale. Pours hazy blonde with a nose of ripe peach and grapefruit. Sips juicy, fruity, and crisp, with minimal bitterness and big clementine notes. A bright, vibrant beer that’s wonderfully drinkable and remarkably refreshing.

ABV 4.5%

Whirlpool: Night Shift (Everett, MA) Lexa slows at the base of an incline, bracing her weight with her hands on her kneecaps while catching her breath. Lincoln extends his run by a few extra strides, resting his torso against the black metal railing of an overlook that juts above the harbor. They stand just six feet apart, regulating their breathing, while pedestrians, cyclists, and young children in strollers filter past. Although the sun wanes, arching towards the water, its heat has soaked Lexa’s shirt and shorts so that the material sticks to her skin in several places.

“Bit more intense than your last run?” Lincoln asks when he circles back to stand beside her.

Lexa stands to her full height, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe sweat from her face. “What do you mean?”

“Octavia tells me you managed to coerce Clarke into running with you the other day. Somehow I can’t imagine there were any interval sprints in that particular course.”

That jolt of nerves—of which she is now regretfully quite familiar—at the mention of Clarke has Lexa shrugging off a laugh and heading for the shade of the Memorial Bridge overpass. Her mind betrays her in the worst way as visions of Clarke in running gear, jogging beside her and cracking jokes, resurface yet again. She would kill for some ice cold water.

Either to drink or dump over her head.

She walks with her hands folded atop her head, triceps stretching pleasantly as she leans against the bridge piling. The cold stone presses into her skin through the material of her shirt, and Lexa focuses on the sensation. Lincoln follows her with an expectant smile.

“Clarke can be coerced by nothing, I assure you. She was the one who asked to come with me.” Lexa kicks lightly at Lincoln’s chiseled calf muscle. “Anyway, I sort of lost my running partner when he started getting laid, didn’t I?”  

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Lincoln laughs, defensively holding up his palms towards Lexa. “You have not lost me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not as available.”

“Guilty,” Lincoln shrugs. “But, come on, you know how it is. You remember.”

She does remember. Lovedrunk and saturated by lust and desire—that overconsumption of physical touch that leaves no room for anything or anyone else. She remembers those first few reclusive weeks with Costia, both of them cancelling plans and shutting out the world.

It feels like someone else’s memories. A fading mirage from another life.

Lexa nods, conceding with a short exhale. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

She stands to stretch her limbs and suddenly feels like she could run another ten miles.

“Let’s grab a beer,” Lincoln suggests, and Lexa is grateful for the change in subject.

“What—now? Where would we go? I’m disgusting,” she says, plucking her shirt from where it sticks to the skin of her stomach.

Lincoln bobs his head up the sidewalk, and Lexa’s stomach clenches to see the bright white siding of Dockside. “Octavia’s working. Let’s go bother her.”

“I need to shower,” Lexa stalls.

“Nah, come on.” Lincoln strongarms her, quite literally, by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and walking farther beneath the shadowed overpass. “The girls won’t care. We’ll sit outside.”

“Linc, I—“

“Nope, no arguments. Anyway, it’s Wednesday so Clarke is probably there too. Don’t you want to see your new best friend?”

Yes. All of the time. She is both the best and worst thing in my life at the moment. It is exceedingly problematic.

Lexa admits to none of this and instead allows herself to be escorted down the short path towards Dockside’s sunny patio. She angles her head so that she can see Lincoln’s face of self-satisfaction and scowls at his ridiculous smile.

:::

“You might not want to hug me, I’m incredibly sweaty right now.”

“Like that’s gonna stop me,” Octavia says, practically jumping into Lincoln’s embrace and landing a soft kiss against his mouth.

It’s brief and chaste, but Lexa nevertheless averts her eyes and lets her gaze fall across the boats in the harbor. They’ve approached the bar from its rear side, closer to the delivery hatch, crunching through the gravel lot that separates Dockside from the bridge.

“You guys are staying for a drink, right?”

Lexa quickly wonders if she can still sneak away for a shower and meet up with Lincoln later now that he’s got Octavia in his arms. “Actually—“

“Oh, no, sorry,” Octavia smirks. “That wasn’t a question. You’re staying.”

Lexa fully surrenders after that, following Lincoln and Octavia towards the patio entrance with a short laugh. Things could be worse than having friends hellbent on spending time with her.

It is this misguided thought that precedes Lexa’s gaze landing on Clarke through the windows that line the water.

Oh no, things are actually the worst they could possibly be.

Clarke in a strapless, summery dress. Clarke with her hair twisted at the back of her head in a delicate bun so that Lexa’s vision narrows to the shape of her bare neck and shoulders. Clarke’s bright smile as she spins to collect empty glasses from a table of two college-aged girls.

Lexa’s smile drains from her face, and when Clarke looks up to see her on the patio, she feels it like a punch to her abdomen.

She had not been wearing this particularly offensive dress during Trikru’s delivery this morning, and Lexa wonders if she often goes home on her long Wednesdays to freshen up and change clothes between shifts.

Perhaps she has a favorite customer coming in later whom she wishes to impress. Perhaps Clarke has invited someone to come visit her specifically, to make the gruelling shift more bearable. Perhaps—

“Grab a seat out here.” Octavia’s direction interrupts Lexa’s inconsequential thoughts.

Perhaps Lexa should stop theorizing about Clarke and her goddamn dress and pull her life together.

“There’s this obnoxious group of guys at the bar who keep trying to flirt with Clarke about kayaking,” Octavia continues. “I have to go rescue her, but I’ll be back with drinks.”

She leaves them with a quick brush of her fingers down Lincoln’s chest, and Lexa struggles to push images from her mind of Clarke being hit on as she climbs onto a stool across from Lincoln. The patio hasn’t yet filled with a late afternoon crowd, and she and Lincoln enjoy a minute or two of relative quiet.

Lincoln hadn’t undersold the location: the views at Dockside are stunning. The harbor is aglow as boats slice its shimmering surface. Lexa allows herself to relax under a setting sun. The sound of gulls in chorus with a quiet, perpetual clanging of cars going over the bridge soothe her previously racing thoughts.

When Octavia returns, it is with glasses of ice water, two, dripping pints of beer, and Clarke at her heels.

Lexa’s relaxation vanishes in a blink.

“Night Shift. Whirlpool,” Octavia says by way of explanation of their beverages.

Greetings overlap as Octavia places coasters and pints on the table, but Clarke’s voice, most prominently, rings in Lexa’s ears. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you guys were coming by today.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Lexa responds, avoiding Lincoln’s eye as he kicks her running shoe beneath the table.

She studiously ignores the swoop in her belly when she catches Clarke’s playful gaze instead.

“You two look properly gross and sweaty,” she comments with that unnecessarily striking smile of hers.

“Pretty sure our run was just a bit more intense than the casual little jaunt you and Lexa did the other day,” Lincoln teases.

“Hey!” Clarke reaches across Octavia for the sole purpose of pinching Lincoln’s bicep until he squirms. “I was remarkably athletic and agile, thank you very much.”

“Yes, we’re all incredibly proud of your fitness,” Octavia adds, condescendingly patting the top of Clarke’s head.

Clarke turns to Lexa. “Tell them!”

“Your endurance should be commended,” Lexa tells her entirely straight-faced.

“I hate all of you,” Clarke responds, narrowing her eyes at the three of them.

Lexa plucks at the strap of her damp tank top and represses a grin. The movement curbs Clarke’s teasing smile when she spies Lexa’s hand.

“How’s your hand?”

Lexa looks at the bandaging wrapping her right palm, almost as if she had forgotten it was there.

“Oh. It’s fine. It didn’t bother me at all during the rest of my deliveries. Stings a little now—probably from all of the gross sweat.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as Lincoln finishes a sip of beer and asks, “What happened?”

“I caught that sharp edge on the truck latch this morning.”

“Shit, I keep forgetting about having that looked at,” Lincoln says. “Did you let Indra know?”

“Yes. I had to fill out paperwork for the injury, and she said she’d have the latch replaced.”

“Why don’t you come inside and let me change the bandage.”

Having Clarke’s doting attention when it’s just the two of them is challenging. Withstanding her genuine care and concern in front of their friends is horrible.

“Oh, you don’t have to—it really doesn’t feel that bad, Clarke.”

“Hey listen, I’m not covering your deliveries tomorrow if that thing gets infected and gangrenous,” Lincoln tells her.

Lexa shoots him a look across the table for his ludicrous commentary.

“There’s no sense in you sitting there in pain just because you’re stubborn. I have all the supplies inside. Come on, it’ll just take a minute,” Clarke says and then hesitates as if she had briefly considered reaching out for Lexa’s upturned hand.

Lexa squeezes her fingers into a fist, sending a sharp, stinging pain against her injured palm. It does nothing to lessen the image of Clarke reaching out to her, but it curbs her own reckless impulses to run her fingers along the delicate curve of her shoulder just to see if—

She buries the thought and swallows hard.

“Okay,” she finally says, sliding from her stool so that she is stood beside Clarke. Eye-to-eye with Clarke’s stunning blue gaze. “Thanks.”

A tingling suspicion runs up the back of her neck as she trails behind Clarke off the patio. When they enter the cooler, darker interior of Dockside’s main room, Lexa turns to see Lincoln and Octavia huddled together and ignoring them completely.

Her paranoia—among other things—is really getting out of hand.

Clarke leads them behind the bar counter and through a swinging door into the kitchen. Lexa has never had such unfettered access to this section of Dockside, and she suddenly feels acutely aware of her damp hair and running clothes underneath the bright fluorescent lighting. Clarke grabs a plate of something from the salad line, says a quick thank you to the woman removing stems from baby spinach leaves, and they exit through another door into a dim hallway.

“My corner office with a view,” Clarke says upon approaching a heavy-looking wooden door. “Just kidding, there’s no windows in here.” She bangs open the door with her hip and steps inside, waiting for Lexa to follow her. “But, it’s where I keep the first aid kit.”

Lexa steps across the threshold with a timid smile. She’s never been inside Clarke’s office and already it feels like a line she should not have crossed. When Clarke had patched her hand that morning, they had stood in the drafty storage room with its high ceilings and spacious shelving lining the walls. It was a familiar space and vastly different atmosphere.

This room is cramped and dim. Intimate. Lexa feels out of her depth within seconds.

Clarke sets down her plate of food to fetch the box of medical supplies and is already stood too closely. Lexa thinks she can actually smell her shampoo because Clarke is just that much shorter and her head is angled to focus on removing the old bandaging from Lexa’s hand.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Clarke says.

Her words are felt in short puffs of breath against Lexa’s upturned wrist. Lexa’s other hand fiddles the hem of her running shorts while her breathing shallows and her heart hammers loudly in her ears.

She hopes the tremors building in her stomach don’t translate to her hands. Particularly while one of them is gently held by Clarke’s careful fingers.

“Your mom is a doctor so I can trust you know how to properly assess a wound, right?”

“God no,” Clarke laughs. “She would probably be horrified by my technique. Or lack thereof.”

“Great. I feel better already.”

Clarke looks up at her with a smile so utterly devastating, Lexa thinks she should have risked infection instead. “I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

She wishes she had a modicum of chill when it comes to Clarke, but truthfully, she does not.

Lexa tries to keep her eyes anywhere other than trailing down the slope of Clarke’s shoulder, which is unfairly close and appears soft and smooth under the low light. She skims over the minimal clutter of Clarke’s desk to stop herself from shamefully ogling a close friend doing her a favor.

There is an assortment of hodgepodge frames that hang on the dark wooden wall behind Clarke’s desk. She sees a picture of Clarke looking much younger with a boy around her age, arms wrapped around each other and stood in front of Dockside.

She hears herself asking, “Who’s that?” before she can silently advise herself to mind her business and get out of this room as quickly as possible.

“All set,” Clarke says, and then turns to face the wall behind her desk. “Who’s who?”

There’s finally some small distance between them, and Lexa breathes out slowly. She looks down to her hand, freshly wrapped in soft white gauze, and flexes it twice into a fist.

“Thanks.”

Clarke’s voice is as soft as she has ever heard it. “You’re welcome.”

For a beat, they hold a steady gaze. It passes quickly, but not before Lexa’s pulse accelerates and her palms begin to ache with nerves. She breaks eye contact first, as she often does. She can hear Clarke quietly exhale a second later because the room is remarkably compact, but also because Lexa has started to believe that her body is attuned to Clarke’s the more time they spend in the same place.

Or, she’s just being dramatic.

“The, uh, middle frame. The kid hugging you outside of the bar.”

“Oh! That’s Wells.” Clarke walks towards the frame and plucks it off the wall so that she can examine it more closely. “He’s one of my closest friends and the reason I get to play bar manager at this lovely establishment.”

That has Lexa’s attention instantly, and she forgets her nerves in favor of learning something new about Clarke. “Oh, really?”

Clarke often does this—unintentionally creating distractions from Lexa’s problematic internal narrative. She drops these little tidbits of information that snare Lexa’s curiosity. Each time, it becomes easier to just relax and enjoy Clarke’s company without overthinking the way the air condenses around them when they are stood too closely. Between that and her penchant for terrible jokes, it explains why Lexa has been able to maintain any semblance of friendship.

“Yeah, we became friends in high school—we were both into the arts, so total nerds—but he left for San Francisco right after graduation. His dad owned and ran this bar for ages, but when his memory got worse and he had to retire, Wells more or less inherited a business he never wanted to manage.”

“And he asked you to take it over,” Lexa supplies.

“Yeah, he sort of caught me at an opportune time when I had no idea what the hell I was doing with my life.” She replaces the picture to its nail on the wall, crosses her arms over her stomach, and exhales a humorless laugh.

Lexa raises her eyebrows and nods. “I can relate.”

“Right.” Clarke’s short laugh is the last lingering sound in the room.

The moment stretches, Clarke watching her as if trying to solve a riddle. Three rapid knocks at the open doorway interrupt the heavy silence, and Lexa is glad she isn’t forced to be the one to look away this time.

“Call for you on line one, Clarke.”

Lexa recognizes Mindy’s voice at her back and watches as Clarke smiles and nods. “Okay thanks, I’ll take it back here.”

“Okay, boss.”

Lexa can hear Mindy’s retreating footsteps a moment later and shifts on her feet to prepare her own exit.

“I should let you—”

“I’m just gonna—”

Words trip over one another until Clarke’s embarrassed smile matches her own.

“Thanks again for …” Lexa raises her right hand to show its fresh bandaging.

“Try not to be so clumsy next time, yeah?” Clarke sits at her desk with a smirk and Lexa takes one, measured step backwards.

“I’ll do my best,” she grins.

She thinks that if Clarke showed up to the delivery hatch wearing that dress next Wednesday, she may very well sever her entire hand from her body from sheer distraction.

“Okay, you should get out of here—Lincoln will think I’ve taken you hostage, and I’m very busy and important taking calls in my fancy office.”

Lexa laughs in response, backing her way towards the open doorway. If Octavia has stayed to keep Lincoln occupied at their table, there’s no way he’s even registered her prolonged absence. She mock salutes to Clarke once she is back in the hallway.

“I’m leaving, Madame President. Proceed with your executive responsibilities.”

Lexa exits the darkened hallway to the trailing sounds of Clarke’s laughter.

:::

[ravynfyre]

Something Kinda Incredible Happened To me Tonight

Talking to some friends on discord,  tonight, I was reminded of a perfect moment one afternoon at Festival of Souls, when a good friend I’ll call B was teaching a novice class on drumming, specifically with the djembe drum. My shoulder made it hard to drum for long, or to keep a good rhythm (which is why I ultimately gave my drum away... I just can't do it well enough to spark joy in myself, and... other reasons) but this was many years back, and I was still trying hard to compensate back then. I had another dear friend named Bradley. Bradley was in my coven, and he and I had started growing closer because of a recent interest in following a Coyote path in his studies, and I am a Coyote path person, too. Bradley was also at the Festival, and had joined the Novice Drumming workshop that afternoon. Now, Bradley was *not* what I would have called a "novice", but he considered himself one, which was why he wanted to sit in on the workshop... plus, he just couldn’t pass up a chance to drum. B did an amazing job teaching, and demonstrating techniques and discussing music theory and such... And we practiced several things over the little workshop...But there was this one, specific round when we just all started jamming together... one person started, and, one by one, each of us joined in and added something, until all five or six of us were drumming away, playing what we could, and weaving in and out and around one another, throwing in little complicated bits now and then as they flitted through our fingers and into our hands, and, for those brief few minutes while all of us were playing together, none of us sounded like novices... none of us felt like novices.

It was the one, and only, time I have ever known, truly, what it meant to be "in the groove" with music, while playing. It was glorious. 

Absolutely, utterly, *glorious*.

               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My friend Bradley was killed when he was riding his motorcycle, and a young driver in a full sized vehicle failed to pay attention to the road, and struck him. Bradley isn't the first friend I have lost to a motorcycle crash... or even the last. 

He was a rescue specialist with the United States Coast Guard, and one of the most genuinely kind and caring people I have ever met. The world truly is a darker place without him in it, and we all lost an extraordinary, special person when he crossed the Veil. 

The Wheel will turn. I will see my friend again someday. I know this. And, until that day, I will have memories, like the memory of that one, glorious moment of drumming with him and B, and the pure joy and synchronicity I felt, to warm my heart until the day we find one another again. 

But I do still miss my friend here in this lifetime.

Blessed Yule, Bradley. Until the next Turn of the Wheel.

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. I composed that because I was missing my friend Bradley. It felt like something I needed to write, and something I needed to post, and it felt like both a good tribute to a dearly beloved, dearly missed friend, and something fitting for Yule, which is tonight. But as soon as I finished composing it, like, literally as I was doing the final read-through and hitting post on the social network I composed it for, all of my dogs suddenly went nuts and demanded to go outside.

so, of course, I went to let them out.

Except, instead of just letting them outside and me staying inside where it was warm, like I had planned, my dog Pyro grabbed my hand in his mouth and dragged me outside with them all.... and that is just not something he does.

As soon as I got out into the yard, the coyote chorus erupted at the back tree line of my property.

Now, what all y’all have to understand is that I currently have two sets of livestock guardian dogs - Great Pyrenees - that guard my whole pasture/farm. One pair works the day, and one pair works the night, so the sheep and cows and poultry and horses are *never* unguarded, and the coyotes in the area no longer ever venture very near my farm. They certainly do not venture as near as the tree line that butts up against the western fence of my farm. Ever. It’s too dangerous for them, because my livestock dogs will kill them if they get too close, and they know that. That’s the purpose behind having LGDs - livestock guardian dogs - the coyotes learn to respect the farms of the places where they could die, and they leave your stock alone, which means that you don’t have to actually go hunt the coyotes and upset the natural balance of the area. It’s actually scientifically proven that hunting and killing established predator packs causes more predation than if you simply use hazing methods and things that makes the predators fear bothering your livestock. So me and the local coyotes? we have An Understanding(tm), and they never come that close, and, if they ever did, they would NOT give away their position like that, and risk themselves, by breaking out into a full pack SONG, right there on the tree line...

And then KEEP SINGING, even when my LGDs start barking to haze them off.  Did I mention that Bradley and I had been doing a lot of talking together about Coyote in the last months of his life? And that there was another instance of someone coming to me with a message that they said that they didn’t understand until I had explained in an Ancestor Ritual about how he and I had been doing Coyote work together... and that he had apparently sent them a message for me, through Coyote that they suddenly understood because they didn’t even know that he was doing Coyote work until I spoke about it?

The moment that song broke out, I knew. 

The Wheel will turn. We will all find one another someday when it does. Until then... until then, he’s letting us all know that he’s doing fine, and that we’re going to get through this all. 

Tonight is Yule. The Solstice. The longest night of the year. Tomorrow, the days will begin getting longer, as the sun returns to us. We just have to hope, and to believe. 

We will get through this. The Sun is the promise to us that we will. 

Because Bradley told me so.

[pythosart]

A BUNCH OF LOUS Some demonic force possessed me to try and make a guide to all 700 of my AU Lous.  My brain is too busted to let me pay attention to my other ocs so I guess all 3% of my creative energy capacity goes toward iterating on this one. And guess what, I cherish them ALL Short bios/AU explanation under the cut (oops it’s long)

ORIGINAL FLAVOR BLADES LOU: Lou as initially designed, though some aspects of their backstory and personality changed as I got to know them through roleplay. Halfway through the story they took a kinda edgy turn and got deeper into cult stuff and afflicted with a worsening vampiric condition. Right before we ended the game for good, they had just died and come back as a full on, undead vampire.

Fae AU: The first AU, that kinda started it all. Stemmed from a cultist dream thing in Blades, where Lou was the prey in an Erlking-style nightly hunt. In the fae version, they’re a sylph changeling and the only child of a fading fae queen. Their arc in this deals with them struggling with their humanity and nearly succumbing to the soul-sucking influence of their mother, before ultimately restoring her “humanity” and saving themself THROUGH THE POWER OF LOVE Cult AU: Kinda started as a Blades offshoot, coulda shoulda woulda AU where we play with ideas we wish we could have tackled in the game. Quickly became its own thing, set actually on Earth in the Prohibition era (but low magic urban fantasy) Lou is French and was rescued from the middle of a WWI battlefield by Aphotis, a goddess whose own cult had just been massacred. She was as desperate for a believer to sustain her as toddler Lou was to not die. They escaped to America as refugees and Aphotis raised them as her own, and as her caretaker and dirty-work-doer in her quest to regain power. Along the way, Lou was (perhaps intentionally) introduced to an infectious piece of a primordial god, that gave them some shapeshifting abilities at the cost of rapidly draining the life from them and twisting them. Aphotis works to keep them alive, while keeping a memory-wiped copy of them (created by this parasitic god piece) around to do her bidding. This isn’t two instances of Lou, it’s one Lou with two bodies. Same person. My personal story borrows a lot from this AU as well as my character Esther’s old story Mary Sue AU: Initially a joke exercise to write intentionally terrible fanfic (as if Dom were writing about their friends in Blades) that of course became its own thing. Lou is obviously a vampire, with most of the traditional vampire rules and weaknesses. Their Tragic Past gimmick is that they were staked in the heart while still living, as bait for their vampire queen mother. It worked, she turned them postmortem, and as a result they are much weaker than a typical vampire. They also suffer a curse to stay within the bounds of their family’s ancestral castle, which has since become a prestigious university. They also become a fluffy black cat-bat thing either at will or when too weak to sustain a full sized body. Their line of vampires usually turns into cats, but Lou is a fuckup Pirates AU: Pretty straightforward. Lou is called June in this one, and is the mutinous first mate of Captain Inkblood (Cookie), who totally does it for attention. Their secret is that they became a pirate to dodge student loan debt. Stayhome AU: “Blades, but what if the formative incident for your character never happened” Lou never gets caught by the Governor’s program to round up street urchins and send them to work-school, and instead ends up working on a shrimp boat. They never develop the world-weariness and scheming nature of canon Lou, instead devoting their intellect to learning everything about shrimp, shrimping, and shrimp boats. Insert Forrest Gump scene. Eventually their crew gets captured and ransomed by pirates, but no one ever pays up for Lou, and they end up pretty happily living with the pirate crew Western AU: Gee I wonder why this big city doctor picked up and moved all the way out here to the frontier, it couldn’t possibly be because they’re running from the law. Narrator voice: They Were. Lou is a terribly unethical doctor with a reputation for experimenting on patients, and a taste for arson. After getting chased out of town and blacklisted all over the west, they find themself joining an outlaw band, as their doctor. Here, they start to learn compassion and humanity and not being a total bastard... ...until they somewhat accidentally burn a particular bounty hunter’s face off with a firebomb, and she carves them up in return. From here on, their arc is a test of their learned compassion and breaking a cycle of bloody revenge. Horror AU: Starts off as a classic summer slasher movie, with Lou as a college student with a bunch of shitty “friends” destroying a campground and partying until they draw the local monster’s ire. The monster (Dom) kills several of them, kidnaps Lou after Lou hides their fear behind sass and clearly isn’t like the destructive campers. Lou learns more about the monster and even starts to warm up to them, especially after discovering they can boss the monster around. Lou successfully escapes but runs right into a horror swamp where a nasty worm zombie pukes worms into their mouth and infests them. As the infestation progresses and nearly kills them a few times, Lou learns that the worms are intelligent and actually adore their host, and also that they can be bribed. By the end of their arc, Lou has mostly achieved symbiosis with their worms and avoided becoming a zombie,. They eventually must face off against the monsterified Queen of the Preps, Tiffany, who was similarly infested but never achieved that symbiosis. Minecraft AU, no really: Lou was a skilled tailor, and a total workaholic. Their ambition netted them a contract for a huge order of clothing for a duchess’s wedding on an extremely tight deadline, and Lou, knowing this could make them for the rest of their life, poured everything into it. They worked themself literally to death, dying of sleep deprivation. Distraught, this unfinished business drove them to make a devil deal of sorts to keep working, and they were granted this undeath, for a price. They slowly became more and more like a Phantom as they worked, never sleeping, and feeding on the dreams of those who do sleep. By the time they finished and emerged to present their achievement, they were monstrous and were chased out of town. From then on, they had lost their passion for their craft, and wandered the wilderness, sneaking into towns at night to feed on dreams, and fighting to retain their humanity as they become more and more phantom-like. Anyway I love this one so much I might make them their own non-minecraft character LotR AU: Lou is a hobbit, entrusted with the destruction of a certain magic ring. Unfortunately, they are much more corruptible than one Frodo, and early on abandon their fellowship, driven by paranoia the Ring has been growing within them. They run into a feral Mirkwood elf raised by giant spiders, and a giant orc raised by a Beorning farmer, and the three of them embark on a weird little Ring Quest of their own. TBC AU: Lou is a quiet, social outsider high schooler, with a bitter hatred for bullies and a knack for really disproportionately nasty “pranks” directed at said bullies. Too smart for their own good and with a taste for theft, Lou is a straight-A student who has been arrested for carjacking before. They end up as part of the Blackout Club after discovering their adoptive mother’s involvement with the Chorus, and out of sheer curiosity about the secret goings-on under the town. And in no small part for free run to break into houses and smear chili oil on the hands of sleepers who inconvenience them, because Lou is a bastard and has yet to learn empathy. Which, as usual, is kinda their arc here. Make friends for the first time in their life, learn empathy, get sucked into the orbit of a fairly nasty god/Voice, classic Lou stuff AND THAT’S ABOUT IT

[xxbluestrifexx]

My Top 10 Japanese Releases

10th: Everlasting Shine - TXT

- such a bop

- perfectly suits the boys and their vocals

- also it’s anime opening meaning it is 1000x more epic than before

- the chorus is so impactful I love it so much

- it took two listens for this song to make itself on this list

- choi line really came for my neck with their vocals (kai killed it too with the vocals in the chorus)

- please listen to this track it is so awesome omg stan txt

9th: Bibouroku - Got7

- a chill vibe song

- I didn’t even know they had a japanese album but this song slaps and suddenly I play it constantly

- the beat is really catchy, like the fact it stays constant is really cool

- mark’s rap is so chill, I love it, same with bambam’s

- YUGYEOM’S REGISTER WORKS SO GOOD FOR THIS SONG

- so does Jaebeom’s (all of their vocalists pop off)

- listen to love loop cowards, especially bibouroku

8th: Electric Kiss - EXO

- HYPE HYPE HYPE HYPE

- I love this album so much guys I can’t

- electric kiss is literally one of EXO’s best title tracks (the fact that it got a short mv pisses me off)

- kyungsoo, kai, baekhyun vocals *chefs kiss*

- Chanyeol’s rap is epic I love it

- in conclusion I listen to this song 7393727374x a day and you should too

7th: Tattoo - The Boyz

- iconic Japanese debut

- anytime sunwoo opens his mouth y’alls ears are blessed

- prechorus is the best thing ever

- NEWS VOCALS DURING THE CHORUS SLAP BEST MAIN VOCAL EVER

- the styling is also epic- we love green and black

- the mv is gorgeous

- kevin & Jacobs bridge parts (all of the bridge tho)

- seriously tho, sunwoo’s rap is literal fire

- yalls rappers could never

- STAN TBZ

6th: Breakthrough - TWICE

- first listen I fell in love; this song got me into twice

- the music video is so aesthetic I love it

- the outfits are so pretty I can’t (twice is so pretty I can’t)

- I love the chorus a whole lot especially nayeon & jihyo’s parts

- CHAEYOUNG OMG

- THE SASS- THE RAP- THE HAIR

- I’m wrecked I love her

- This song was so good and I feel like it was just overlooked when it’s so iconic

- the last chorus with no bass line is amazing omg I can’t get enough of this song

- listen to breakthrough for clearer skin

5th: TOP - Stray Kids

- imma be real honest with y’all this track would’ve been first if I didn’t like the korean track more

- this song is literally perfection

- the choreo is so satisfying to watch, especially the chorus parts I love them

- the mv is so cool and clearly had a lot of time and effort put into it

- I love the track- the raps are so good per usual

- also tower of god is one of my favorite WEBTOONs ever so when I found out stray kids was doing the tracks for the anime I screamed

- idk what else to say this track literally should be first except the other four exist and I like the korean version more :///

4th: Call Call Call! - SEVENTEEN

- this song dropped right when I’d finished memorizing SVT; I watched the mv on repeat all morning while I got ready for school

- the mv is so well done from the styling to the locations to the stunts and acting

- I love the choreography as well- Hoshi and their choreographer come up with the best and most fitting dances for their tracks

- vocals and raps were on point (that beginning though)

- THE BRIDGE

- MINGHAOS MULLET

- so many things I love about this entire era that I had to put it fourth

3rd: Breaking Down - Day6

- again the first day6 that came out when I was first getting into their music

- I’m a huge fan of rock music in general so the beat and hard rock aspects of the song were very satisfying

- also the lyrics are so awesome

- I love the second chorus when young k is singing his heart out and then Jae comes in just as strong

- “find my pieces and put me into one” I FELT THAT

- also the non vocal bridge slaps

- I love my emo Japanese rock music

2nd: Don’t Leave Me - BTS

- do I really need to explain why this song is on this list

- this songs lyrics are so meaningful I cry every time

- the vocal line being powerful as fuck during the chorus is so iconic

- jungkook’s pre chorus makes me so emotional his voice is so good I love him mom

- I love EDM and this song satisfies a lot of those needs

- the bridge leading into the high note is epic

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

- DREAMCATCHER - I Miss You

- BTS - Your Eyes Tell

- SEVENTEEN - Fallin’ Flower

1st: Livin’ It Up - Monsta X

- yes this is my number one don’t judge me

- there is not an Mx song that I dislike

- to start, this mv is fantastic omg like wow

- the vocal line sounds so good especially their falsettos

- changkyuns rap is so iconic I love it especially the choreo during his rap

- I love Kihyunn and Minhyucks parts during the chorus (hyungwon too my bb)

- the best part is the bridge between Jooheon and changkyun

- that last chorus where the instruments back off UGH

- stream living it up

[myforeverforlife]

strike me out.

For @trishmarieco Jongdae + 87. “That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.”  “Well, kiss me so they see.”

Masterlist

To say that you had just gotten through a horrible breakup was an understatement. Your relationship with your ex-boyfriend had started out as many romances do: mutual interest, followed by the sweet, honeymoon period where it seemed like the other person could do no wrong. Unluckily for you, this honeymoon period had ended rather abruptly once you found out how easy it was for him to get jealous, especially when it came to Jongdae.

You had explained to him time and time again that you had no romantic feelings for Jongdae — he was your best friend. This was the truth, and everyone around you knew it. Years of late-night sleepovers and shared car rides to school had resulted in a tight-knit bond, both of you practically able to read each other’s minds. But your boyfriend was convinced that there was something more, if not on your part, then from Jongdae’s.

But no matter how many times you told him that there was nothing going on, that Jongdae would never make a move on you, your ex remained unconvinced. In a completely shitty move, he had told you to pick — either him or Jongdae. Seeing as your ex was already driving you up the walls with how obsessive and needy he was, the choice was easy. Plus, there was no way that you would throw away your friendship with Jongdae, no matter who you were dating.

Now a week later, you’ve still been stewing in your feelings about how much of a jerk your ex was. Lucky for you, tonight Jongdae had talked you out of getting drunk and suggested a night of bowling instead. You had been extremely hesitant at first, just wanting to wallow in your feelings, but your best friend would have none of that.

Although you hated to admit it, after a few minutes, you were more immersed in the game than thoughts of how much you hated your ex.

Jongdae jumped up from his seat as your ball cleanly knocked down the remaining five pins in your turn, giving an exaggerated groan. “You’re killing me here, Y/N. I thought you were bad at bowling.”

“That was in middle school, Dae. I’ve had lots more practice since then. Hey, wait. Did you bring me bowling cause you thought you’d win?”

“Honestly, no. This was the first thing I thought of when you texted me. But hey, you said you wanted to do something to distract you, and here we are!”

“Uh, yeah. I’m definitely distracted by how much you suck at bowling.”

Jongdae glared at you, the effect less scary and more cute, like that of a kitten’s. He went over to the ball return and picked up the bowling ball he had been using, the sphere colored a garish macaroni-orange and covered with neon green spots.

“Dae, did you really have to pick the ugliest ball?” you called out to him.

“Don’t hate the ball, hate the game. Plus, you won’t be dissing me when I start piling up strikes.” The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth as he concentrated, lifting the ball up with both hands and staring at the lane ahead. Jongdae exhaled deeply, then took a step forward. His arm swung low as he released the ball, his hind leg stretching out behind him. Both of you watched with bated breath as the ball rolled, rolled down the lane and straight into the gutter.

Jongdae groaned in frustration while you got caught in a fit of giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. Your laughter only grew louder when he scored another gutter ball immediately after, despite the determined look on his face.

“New rule: you can only trash talk if your skills live up to the hype,” you said between bouts of laughter.

“Just wait until next turn.” Jongdae glanced up at the TV screen, his score of 15 contrasting with yours of 27.

“Uh huh, sure.” Your bowling shoes tapped against the wooden floor as you passed by Jongdae to pick up your bowling ball. Unlike Jongdae’s, yours was on the muted side, the entire ball simply colored magenta.

Jongdae watched from afar, one leg crossed over the other while he stretched his arms across the back of the bench he sat on. His other foot tapped impatiently against the floor, although you couldn’t hear it among the noise of music blaring through the bowling alley and the cheers of other bowlers in the lanes beside you.

Your current strategy was just to build up as much speed as possible and to aim for the center. Most of your bowling failures as a child were due to the fact that you hadn’t been strong enough to throw the ball so that it would zoom across the floor. Even when you grabbed the lightest ball, you still had trouble avoiding the gutter. It was because of these failures that Jongdae, equally as competitive as you, would spend every bowling outing for birthday parties by your side trying to teach you how to bowl. While his lessons hadn’t done much for you in middle school, they were surely paying off now.

Taking in a deep breath, body extending as you readied yourself. Your arm swung back behind you in a low arc, and then came swinging back to the front as you took a few steps, releasing the ball with ease. You rocked back and forth on the heels of your feet as the ball barreled down the lane, getting closer and closer until it hit the right side.

You squealed with joy as more than half of the pins fell over, leaving a small group on the left side for you to knock down. Turning around, Jongdae met your expectant face with a proud grin and a thumbs-up. When it came to losing to you, he still managed to be the sweetest person ever.

Just as you were getting ready to knock down the remaining pins, a loud chorus of mixed conversations broke through your concentration. Instinctively, you turned around to see what the source of the noise was. At first, you only noticed a large group of college students like yourself at the counter getting their bowling shoes on. Something about them seemed all too familiar, however, and you stared a bit longer. One figure straightened up from where he had been tying his shoes, adjusting his baseball cap.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered, the bowling ball in your hand almost slipping to the floor.

“What?” Jongdae asked, turning around as well. It didn’t take long for him to spot your ex-boyfriend. “Shit,” he exclaimed, just as taken aback as you were.

“That’s my ex-boyfriend,” you said to no one in particular, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. Luckily, he hadn’t seen you yet. He was still talking to the other people in his group, most likely from a club he was in.

“You wanna head out?” Jongdae asked, nodding towards the front doors.

Shaking your head, you swallowed down the lump in your throat. To leave the bowling alley, you would have to return your shoes and walk past the front counter anyways, inevitably leading to an awkward encounter with your ex. “Is it too late to try and hide under the benches?” you said sarcastically, voice weary.

Jongdae was still looking for an escape route, eyes narrowing as he spotted the long line to the restroom. “You can’t hide in there either. Shit.”

“I’ll be fine, Dae. Really.” Despite your words, you could feel the anxiety and anger welling up in the pit of your stomach. Seeing your ex here, on a night that was supposed to be your escape away from any thoughts of him felt quite literally like a punch to the stomach.

“You’re shaking,” Jongdae said as he stood up. He loosened your grip on the bowling ball before taking it from you and placing it back on the ball return. “Sit down.”

You let Jongdae drag you over to the bench, your back to the counter and your ex. “What if he sees me?” you asked, eyes shaky as you fought the urge to take a quick peek behind you. “I don’t even know what he’s said about me to his friends, god.”

Jongdae’s eyes hardened, still looking past you and glaring at the group. “Well, kiss me so they see.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. He won’t be able to see your face.”

“Dae, I can’t just kiss you the entire time that he’s here.”

Jongdae’s pupils shifted, and you made a move to glance over your shoulder before he stopped you. “They’re walking over here.”

“Fuck. Okay, whatever, just kiss me.”

“What?” Jongdae’s eyes widened.

“You’re the one who suggested it! Now hurry up and kiss me before — ”

Jongdae’s was kissing you before you could even finish your sentence, his nose bumping into yours. You gasped at the sudden contact, but soon enough you were kissing him back, your hands pulling him closer by the front of his T-shirt.

All too soon, Jongdae was pulling away, slightly out of breath as he studied your face for your reaction. He grinned upon seeing that you were just as flustered as he was before glancing back over to the group behind you. His smile turned smug, lips curling at the corners playfully as he took delight in what he saw. “You’re not gonna like this, but I’m pretty sure he knows it’s you.”

“What?!” You couldn’t help it, and in a second you were staring at the same spot. Sure enough, your ex was frozen in surprise, his mouth settling into a frown when he saw that it was you.

“You okay?” Jongdae asked from beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“Yeah. Actually, I think I’m ready to go.”

Nodding, Jongdae got up and held a hand out to you. His fingers wove in between yours as the two of you began the treacherous walk over to the counter.

Your ex didn’t even spare you a glance as you passed by, pointedly looking away and starting up a conversation with the person next to him. It gave you a small boost of confidence to see that he was just as antsy around you as you were around him.

Jongdae held your hand again after returning the bowling shoes, swinging your joined hands back and forth as you walked out to the parking lot. “That went better than I expected.”

“I know. I thought he’d try and pick a fight right there.” You exhaled, all of the stress and adrenaline wearing away. Now you were just extremely relieved,  and maybe a little curious. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What?” Jongdae paused, eyebrows jumping up towards his bangs.

That hadn’t been your first kiss with Jongdae.  Growing up together, there had been multiple occasions where you had locked lips. Most of them had been during birthday parties where you and your friends hid away from parents to play spin the bottle or truth or dare, or when you and Jongdae had been in kindergarten and too young to understand the entirety of what a kiss meant.

This kiss that you just shared had been different, a new spark of emotion jolting between both of you and making it hard to separate.

“I want to kiss you again,” you reiterated as you stepped closer, Jongdae’s face directly in front of yours. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Of course,” Jongdae gasped out. “I mean, uh — ”

You covered his lips with your own, giggling to yourself when he made a small noise in surprise at the sudden contact. He held you close to him, hands on the small of your back as you braced yourself against his chest. You could feel the small rumbling in his chest as he hummed in delight, and you started to laugh, your giggles breaking the kiss.

“What?” Jongdae asked, your laughter infectious and making him giddy as well.

“You were literally purring.”

“I don’t purr,” Jongdae pouted, sneaking a few more kisses to your nose even as you continued to giggle. “I’m not a cat.”

You raised an eyebrow, lifting one side of his lips with a finger. “I don’t know, these lips look pretty feline to me.”

“Can we stop talking about me being a cat for a second and go back to kissing?”

“Save it for when we get back, I’m not gonna make out with you in a parking lot.” 

Jongdae was quick to drag you over to your car, your laughter filling up the silence in the quiet parking lot.

Your night out with your best friend to forget your ex had worked out successfully, even better than you had even hoped for. And of course, it didn’t hurt that you fell for your best friend along the way.

A/N: wow, writing this brought me back to many birthday parties in middle school and elementary spend at the bowling alley (it was always either there, or chuck e cheese LOL) but I hope you all enjoy this!

[arigatouiris]

daughter of artemis // p.p — [13]

c h a p t e r  t h i r t e e n

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Word count: 5055

Author’s Note: So, I really appreciate the love I’m getting from readers who love reading this story. It means a lot to me, it really does. But, being demanded to update ‘as soon as possible’ makes me very sad. I mean, I update literally every single day on weekdays. This has been my pattern since my first story on tumblr, and if this isn’t fast enough, then I’m truly very sorry. Such demands are just plain offensive, really. If you want to tell me the story is good, please let me know, but when you demand me to update? That hurts. I am very hurt right now, even though I have updated on time. I am not running on any schedule, and I just do this as a hobby. 

13 // οικογένεια family

❅

Her eyes met Peter’s. Peter was already looking at her, and when her eyes met his he didn’t know if he had to look away. He couldn’t, almost; she was just that breathtaking.

    “C-Can you play that song?” Her voice was strangely raspy, it wasn’t a moment ago.

Peter blinked. “What song?”

    “The song you told me the other day. The one that I was humming.”

Recognition hit his features a second after she mentioned the song. Peter nodded and fiddled with his suit before pulling out his phone from a secret pocket. He knew he had to be using another phone as Spiderman, but that didn’t matter right then. Clicking on YouTube, Peter typed the song’s name and pressed play. As the tune began, (y/n) eagerly waited; she wondered if this was the song, if Peter was right in his guess. She could still remember the tune her mother would sing, the songs she would hum as she waltzed through dreamily at the back of the temple.

She would pet animals and hum this tune, (y/n) not knowing what the song was. She was certain that it was a song that the mortals sang; a song famous here and not amongst the gods.

And when Cyndi Lauper’s voice started after the intro, (y/n)’s eyes widened slowly. Her eyes met Peter’s a second after, as tears filled her eyes. This is it, she thought as a hand slowly flung to her mouth, shakily. Peter had no clue what was going on, but this was her moment. The song played between them, Peter sitting by her on the bed she was lying down on.

    “If you’re lost, you can look, you will find me…” (y/n) sang along, almost quietly, knowing the lines of the chorus.

She looked at Peter as the song continued, who was adorning a soft smile on his face as he watched her. His eyes were so intense, she wanted to look away; or not look away, (y/n) couldn’t decide. Why did he have such an unnerving effect on her? His overwhelming good looks, maybe? The way his eyes blazed at her? She couldn’t tell. Perhaps, it was also because it was always Peter’s face she had clung to for comfort; Peter had uncharacteristically been helping her even before he knew her.

    “Is… Is this song special?” Peter asked, lowly, staring at her.

(y/n) nodded, “My mother always kept humming a song I didn’t know. I caught the tune of it, for years actually. Never knew the song.”

    “This was the song?” (y/n) chuckled at Peter’s excitement.

    “Yep. This was the…” (y/n) looked up at Peter staring at her and couldn’t look away from his eyes. “Peter, your eyes…”

Their faces were merely inches away from one another now. Peter could feel her breath tickle the edge of his nose, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. His gaze lingered on her lips and then her eyes, dancing between them to a song that was playing in the background.

    “How have I never noticed them?” He couldn’t tell if she said this without thinking or to herself.

    “What about them?” He asked, not realizing his voice was a whisper.

He wanted to kiss her. He could feel every ache in his bones for this one thing; he wanted to hold her and kiss her repeatedly, hold her and kiss her and tell her to stay. He wanted her by his side, he wanted to tell her everything was going to be alright, and that she was here with him as he held her and kissed her. Peter wanted nothing more.

    "The color," she breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like melted chocolate. I could paint those..." She reached toward Peter, but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.”

Suddenly, the sound of a throat clearing and a foot slamming on the ground had Peter Parker pull back from how close he was to (y/n). Tony Stark stood by the door to her room, watching them like he had seen the most bizarre thing in the world, his one arm in a bandage. Tony gestured to them both and squinted.

    “Is… Is this some weird declaration of love that teenagers do these days?”

With Cyndi Lauper’s song still playing in the background, it made everything all the more embarrassing for Peter. Turning his phone off, he could feel his face bleeding red, and (y/n) wished desperately to her uncle to make her disappear. Brushing whatever had happened aside, Tony approached them both and sat down on the chair to their side, facing the two. Tony fiddled with his hands, still unsure on how to talk to his daughter, who was almost caught kissing a boy he knew rather well and cared for deeply.

He looked at them and blinked, “How long has this been going on?”

    “Mr. Stark, i-it’s not—”

    “We’re friends.”

Peter froze before frowning and turning back to (y/n), who sat there with wide eyes and a red face. She looked at his hurt expression and her jaw dropped.

    “I—I mean, we’re—”

    “Alright, you guys can talk about it later. Pete here told me that your grandfather might be coming after me.”

(y/n) nodded, feeling the blush come down. She licked her lips together before building a proper narrative in her head.

    “He’s always been after the people associated with me. He’s not really happy about the prophecy, and now that things are… Well, now that I’ve killed two of his henchmen, he’s pissed. He’s been pushed to a corner. So, he threatened me the only way he could.”

    “It’s been four days. He… It’s only been raining.” Peter said, confused slightly as to why nothing had happened.

    “That’s what’s confusing me too. He… He normally makes his move quite fast.”

    “Isn’t it easy for a god to kill a man; especially a man with one arm?” Tony offered.

(y/n) frowned before shaking her head, “No. Gods aren’t allowed to kill people anymore. Because Zeus had affairs with human women, like… a lot of human women, Hera went around killing women in Greece who had slept with her husband. She did it in a blind rage. My mother then made all Gods vow to never harm a human again.”

    “Then what’s to worry?”

    “His henchmen. They do all of Zeus’ dirty work. He controls them because he made them using his blood and stone. I’ve taken down two but the strongest one…”

    “Is the one that your uncle took away the other day.” Tony finished.

(y/n) nodded, placing her hands on her lap. Biting her lip, she contemplated telling the two of them what she had in her mind. In the end, she went for it.

    “I…”

Tony looked up and blinked. Peter turned to her and faced her.

    “My mother’s always protected me. She taught me how to hunt, how to use the bow… Even though as my uncle, Apollo never really got too close to me, she’d make sure that no one treated me without respect. She couldn’t obviously demand that they love me, but she loved me enough. Every time I asked her about you,” She looked at Tony, “She told me she didn’t tell me who you were because she wanted to protect you. And I believed her, even without understanding what she meant. What she needed to protect you from. I lived all my life being half of something. Half god, half a human,”

Peter could feel her heart rate increase as she spoke.

    “After losing her, and getting to know of that prophecy, I finally had the chance to become a full something, you know? I wanted to find you and… and come to you and maybe you’d accept me and I’d get to live with my dad?” (y/n) used her left hand and wiped the tear that was about to fall from her eye.

Tony’s gaze hardened. He wanted to look away, but that would make it slightly easier. He wanted to see; he wanted to see how much he had missed. He wanted to know.

    “But after learning that my mother did this for a reason… I… I can finish this prophecy and become a full god. Doubt filled my mind when I started to think that maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t know who you were. Maybe this was why my mother kept you away from me, to protect you from me. It was not any other threat but me. My mother was protecting you from associating with me.” (y/n) choked down her sobs, but the tears, they fell.

Peter felt his heart break at the sight of her crying. He turned to Peter with a pained expression, wondering what can be done. He knew she blamed herself, just as he had before; he could see so much of himself in her anguish, so much pain that he could somehow weirdly relate to. His heart went out for her but the distance was so great.

    “Just..” Tony was not a man of few words. But that situation called for silence or a lack of words. Without even being given a chance, Tony felt like he had failed her. “Just remember what I told you and why I’m here in the first place.”

(y/n) met her father’s eyes. Tony looked at her and nodded once, strongly.

    “It wasn’t you she was protecting me from. This I’m sure of.” Tony walked out of the room, quietly.

Peter’s hand instinctively went up to her face and wiped her tears away before she could. She gave him a nice smile, which he returned, but he felt uneasy. As if something terrible was going to happen and neither of them were talking about it.

    “You’re not in school? What, it’s like 2 p.m., and you’re pulling a Spiderman?”

Peter chuckled dryly, “You shouldn’t be worrying about that.”

    “You shouldn’t be missing school.” She said, feeling him bring his hands down, off her face.

    “You shouldn’t be leaving.” His voice was sharp.

(y/n) didn’t say anything. She looked at him with a morose expression, afraid to explain to him, afraid to say anything that could make his longing worse. She could see his Adam’s apple raise and fall, indicating that he was about to talk.

    “I don’t understand what being a demigod means. I don’t understand what it’s like being in your situation, but here’s what I do get,” He looked up at her and blinked, “Being half of something.”

    “Peter—”

    “Hear me out? Please.”

(y/n) and Peter shared a look that spoke more than words could ever communicate. She nodded once before noticing Peter come closer to her on the bed. His hand fell on hers this time, without any hesitance.

    “Ever since I got my powers, things are weird. I turned into this unusually fit guy who could magically climb up walls and is sticky almost all the time. I lost my uncle and he was probably the only person I could come close to calling a father, after Mr. Stark that is, but at the time, I blamed myself. I kept my identity a secret, I pushed people away from me because associating with me meant being in danger. And I couldn’t possibly lose anyone after losing uncle Ben.”

    “I’m so sorry…” Her voice was low.

Peter pressed his forehead to (y/n)’s once before pulling away and staring at her eyes. His right hand rested on her cheek as he spoke, “May knows now and I don’t have to lie to her and it makes me feel so at ease because lying to her killed me. I know for a fact that I will protect her. I can’t keep pushing people away because that’s what keeps them safe. No. It’s my responsibility to keep them safe, no matter what. I took that on when I became Spiderman,”

He kissed her on the nose and continued, “You… You might think that Mr. Stark is living the perfect life right now and doesn’t need you. But, see… Family doesn’t work that way, (y/n).”

(y/n) smiled when she felt his fingers rub against her cheek. He was being affectionate even without trying to be.

    “It’s the strongest and most confusing bond out there, (y/n). You can’t run away from it.”

Pulling back, (y/n) rested her hand on his cheek and stared at him. It was as if her eyes would burn through his skin. Peter suddenly felt very conscious of himself, feeling icky and sweaty in the back of his suit, and he hoped and prayed his face didn’t look like a mess right then because she was always pretty.

    “Five years ago, when I was transported to New York, I saw a vision. Four people. I saw… Tony,” She didn’t know how to address him. “Pepper, Natasha and you.”

    “Me?” Peter asked, in disbelief.

    “Yes, you. You looked at me in a way that made me think I shouldn’t go somewhere, but I could never figure out what your eyes meant. But, God, being looked at like that… It was everything. It showed you cared for me and wanted the best for me, all of that in one look. This was before I even met you. Five years before meeting you. And for those five years, each time I panicked or got anxious or felt lonely, I’d picture your face. I’d picture your face looking at me every single person on earth would want to be looked at. And you saved me. Each time.”

Peter couldn’t believe it. It felt as if suddenly, someone had stolen his ability to breathe.

    “You have been saving me for a long, long time, Peter Parker.” She said, before pressing her lips to his.

It felt like finally. As if the word ‘finally’ had been reinvented into this scene. Her hands were cupping his face and his hands wound themselves around her delicately, knowing she was hurt and addicted to her lips on his, all at the same time. Peter had never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And then, the space between them exploded. His heart kept missing beats and his hands could not bring her close enough to him. He tasted her and realized that he had been starving.

Peter had loved before, but it didn't feel like this. He had kissed before, but it didn't burn him alive. Maybe it lasted a minute, and maybe it was an hour. All Peter knew right then was that kiss, and how soft (y/n)’s skin was when it brushed against his, and that even if he did not know it until now, he had been waiting for this person forever.

Pulling away, Peter knew he was smiling. Their noses were touching and he didn’t want to let her go.

    “I like you so, so much.”

This earned a giggle from her and Peter could feel his heart pound in his chest. As if there was no time to waste, Peter kissed her again, pushing himself closer. However, when she winced just a little bit, Peter jumped away and attached himself to the wall opposite to her, in a very Spider-like fashion.

    “Right. You’re still injured. I’m sorry.”

She laughed at him and shook her head a bit, thinking of how easy it was for Peter to ruin her.

❅

Four more days had passed since Peter told (y/n) that he liked her. Zeus had not made any appearance, the rains had died down, and the sun was shining again. It was as if (y/n) had never been a demigod and these four days were her actual life, waking up after a longish nightmare.

If she could believe that, though, she might have been fortunate, but she wasn’t. She could move around now, her ribs had been healing up quite fast—her being a demigod and everything. However, Tony never let her out of the building or out of his sight for too long. Pepper would occasionally drop in and give her food, even if she was full, and speak to her about random things. It was Pepper who introduced her to waffles, and Pepper who introduced her to the wonderful world of Netflix.

However, at that minute, Apollo, Pepper and Tony were in her room as she sat on her bed. Her uncle had appeared out of nowhere like he normally did, spooking both Tony and Pepper, but this was something (y/n) was quite used to. Feeling quite torn, she didn’t know what she could tell her uncle. She was now having long conversations with Pepper, being told things and how to take care of her skin. Morgan would sometimes come and play games with her, with Pepper leaving the two of them to bond. Morgan was her half-sister, who was more than thrilled to have (y/n) live with them (even if (y/n) kept saying it was for the time being).

There was one dark aspect about getting this close to Pepper and Morgan. While Tony kept himself reserved, coming in only when he needed to tell her something important, checking in on her while she was asleep (while he thought she was asleep), and being slightly awkward around her, it was Pepper who made (y/n) completely comfortable. The dark aspect about getting this close to this family was that after the prophecy, she was going to lose all of this.

    “What’s up, uncle?”

    “Do you always travel like this?” Pepper asked, looking distressed.

    “By light, yes,” Apollo said, rolling his eyes. “Well, there’s still no sign of Zeus. Olympus is literally trembling. Zeus not being there is making everyone else quite mad. Three of them have stepped down.”

    “They can do that?”

(y/n) nodded, “If a god steps down from Olympus, they’re merely just not part of the council, but they can’t cease to be gods.”

    “Athena, Demeter and Hestia have stepped down. Ares went through the same thing, he was banished but he’s still a god.”

    “This council doesn’t make sense, then.” Tony said, looking at Apollo.

    “It never has. That’s what Athena and my sister were on about even before the prophecy came to be. At one point, Athena knew not to argue, her wits told her that. Artemis, on the other hand, was hot-headed… She never listened.”

    “Seems like I didn’t get the stubbornness from you after all.” (y/n) muttered, which Tony quite obviously heard.

    “Rude.” He said, glaring at her.

    “Right,” Apollo chose to ignore whatever happened, “The Boar is locked up but he isn’t moving. He isn’t even attempting to escape because Zeus hasn’t given him any orders. Hera doesn’t know where he’s gone either.”

(y/n) thought about Hera. Apollo had mentioned that Zeus had been abusing her; but her heart couldn’t be kind to a woman who was so mean to her. However, her mother had taught her that sometimes, kindness was not easy.

    “So, you’re saying this is like… peace?” Tony asked, confused.

    “I guess you could say that. Until Zeus returns, that is.”

    “I don’t think it’ll last.” (y/n) said, shaking her head grimly. “Zeus will try something. Whatever this peace is won’t last. He’s definitely plotting something right now.”

Apollo presses his lips together. He didn’t want to put his finger on it, but the air around his niece had changed. His eyes turned to Pepper’s form, who was looking at (y/n) with concerned eyes. He looked at Tony, who was sitting there, trying to think of something that could help the situation. Nodding once, he left, knowing she was in safe hands.

(y/n) felt a hand fall on hers. Looking up, she saw Pepper smile at her.

    “It doesn’t matter, (y/n), whether it’ll last or not. You’re our family now.” Pepper looked at Tony, who nodded a moment after.

    “You know,” (y/n) smiled as she continued, “My mother always kept saying your name to the trees and the birds, asking how you were doing. In her heart, she wanted me to meet you first. Now, I know why.” The girl squeezed back Pepper’s hands, earning a soft smile from the blonde woman.

Pepper leaned forward and kissed (y/n) on the forehead for a long moment, before standing up to leave. She looked at Tony, who looked like he wasn’t going to move, and left the room. Tony stands up to sit where Pepper was, and looks at (y/n)’s hands. All he could think about, ever since he saw them, were how small her hands were. As he was looking, he noticed one of her hands move and land on his, causing him to look up at her face in slight shock.

She wasn’t smiling, but her eyes were. He was so close to her, but Tony moved closer. He could smell Pepper’s shampoo off her hair, and her hand was still on his.

    “Are you in any pain?” She asked him, and Tony raised his eyebrows before shaking his head.

He didn’t know what to say. (y/n) noticed he was choking back tears.

    “Tony.” She said, unsure.

    “I really hope you don’t call me that in the future.” He replied, chuckling dryly.

    “I… I wanted to stay away from you for a reason.” (y/n) said, looking down at their hands.

Tony looked up at her, “And what’s that?”

    “I didn’t want anything to do with you because once I become a god, I… I won’t have any of this. You can’t imagine how torn I am now that… Now that Pepper’s accepted me and Morgan’s being… I don’t know and you...  I’ll lose all of this. I’ll... “ I’ll lose you, she wanted to say but couldn’t.

But, Tony heard it. His grip on her hand tightened and he thought it was the most foolish thing he had ever heard. He raised her hand and pressed the back of her hand to his lips and kissed her. (y/n) let out a sob before chuckling dryly. Years and years she had pictured her father sitting by her side, and here it was actually happening.

    “Morgan has this thing. She tells me that she loves me 3000. It’s funny because that's my definition of how much love there is to give.”

    “Right, I’ve heard her say that to you.” (y/n) said, smiling softly.

Tony nodded before playing with his daughter's hand, “And it’s become like something we’ve made together.”

He looked at her and suddenly, she was only 5 years old. Tony’s heart melted at the thought. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead before muttering a phrase that now became something the two of them made together.

    “I love you, moonchild.”

❅

(y/n) could feel herself healing. But, there was this growing anxiousness in her stomach that increased each day; she knew Zeus was plotting something and the more time he took, the more she grew worried. It had been two more days, now close to a whole week of what had happened to her. She had gotten closer to Tony, with the awkwardness dying down a bit each day. ‘Moonchild’ was his nickname for her now, he never addressed her as (y/n) anymore.

She liked it. She liked everything about her father. And although she hadn’t called him that yet, Tony never pressured her. It was strange but she could see why Pepper was the reason he had changed. Tony’s ability to love was unlocked by Pepper, and it was inherently she who had turned him around into someone who could care so much.

She wanted to call them her family, but she was torn now with the possibility of that not happening. Some part of her had already started thinking about how life would be like if she gave up on the prophecy, but she knew she could never do that.

Despite how much she loved the three of them, she knew she had to leave.

Peter suddenly came in through the window, causing her eyes to widen. It was over 12 a.m., in the night, and it was certainly not the time for a boy to visit. Tony had strangely gotten around talking about Peter to her, and had strictly said that the boy was not allowed to be with her post 9 p.m.

    “Pete, you’re not supposed to be here—”

She got off the bed and embraced him, him hugging her back. His suit was sweaty, but she didn’t care. Pulling away, Peter brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed her passionately, with her kissing him with just that much vigor. She missed him by hours, and Peter could feel her rapid heartbeat whenever he came near her.

After a while of making out, which was something that the two of them did rather well, Peter noticed there was hesitance in her movements. He didn’t take long in asking her what was wrong.

    “I… I love them, Pete.” (y/n) said, pressing her lips together.

    “That’s great news! See, I told you—”

    “When I become a god… I won’t die. I’ll stay young and everyone around me will age. Everyone will move on. Including you.”

Peter strangely hadn’t thought that far ahead, but once the thought was placed in his head, anxiety kicked his insides to a pulp. He suddenly grew afraid, and started to look for ways out.

    “Is there… Is there any way you can stay mortal?”

    “I can’t not complete my prophecy, Peter. And if I do… I won’t be.”

Peter remained silent.

    “I don’t have a life here, Peter.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to lose her and even though this thought may be selfish, he would take the blame. But, sometimes, grief hurts us in ways we would later think was petty. Peter suddenly recalled telling her he liked her, and her not saying anything back. He turned to look at her worried face, and froze for a second.

She hadn’t said it because she had always planned on leaving.

Getting up suddenly, (y/n) knew something was wrong. Peter felt his vision go a bit blurry, but he knew he was fine. He told her he had to leave, and although that came out abrupt, he couldn’t pay attention to it at the moment. He doesn’t remember apologizing to her as he left, he jumped out the window and felt tears prickle the corner of his eyes, thoughts of her and her words and her kisses and her actions burned him.

That night, (y/n) couldn’t sleep. The anxiousness was turning things around for her, and with Peter leaving abruptly, she knew one thing. She had to leave too. She had to go to Greece herself and see things to an end. Being clueless was one thing, but being certain about being clueless was another. She was sure in her not knowing; and her indefiniteness was her strong point. Getting out of bed, she rushed to Morgan’s room to find the child fast asleep. (y/n) smiled to herself before leaning down and kissing her forehead, whispering sweet nothings to her little sister, before heading out to her parents’ room.

She had never been able to call anyone but Artemis that. Pepper had proven herself easily to be a mother to her, no judgment from her end. And Tony. Tony was her father, flesh and blood and everything. And with time, she knew she could accept him as easily as he had accepted her.

Standing by their door, she watched them sleep. Tony looked peaceful and she hoped he wouldn’t get anymore nightmares.

Zeus not approaching them proved one suspicion she had in her mind.

He was a coward. A coward not worth her anger.

Heading to her old roof top, she found her stuff there, untouched. (y/n) picked up her arrows and her bow; her dagger was still inside her pouch, which was with her from before. She felt like she was right in leaving, but she also felt like it wouldn't be a long departure.

As she turned, it was as if one of her dreams came true. Literally. She saw Spiderman jump a few feet ahead of her, come toward her as quickly as possible, take her hands in his and press his forehead to hers, his mask still on.

    “You can have a life here. With me.” Peter said, and her eyes widened.

She had always wondered what his purpose was for appearing in her vision. Pepper’s was that she would become a mother to her after Artemis, and Tony was literally her father. Natasha trained her and taught her almost everything she knew. She had wondered what Peter’s purpose was.

Removing his mask, she pressed her hand to his cheek and laughed, finally understanding. Leaning forward, she captured his lips with hers, and kissed him hard. Before Peter could respond, she pulled back.

    “I love you, Peter Parker. I… I think I always have.”

Peter’s eyes were saucers now. He couldn’t believe his ears.

    “I love you. And I’ll be back. I promise you, I’ll be back.”

Peter looks terrified, but he nods. He didn’t have to say it back, she knew. With the way she looked at him, he knew she knew.

Peter’s purpose was simple.

He would be the reason she’d stay.

❅

When she reached the park, it was sunrise. She knew her uncle was watching her. She felt at ease, calm; she knew so much more now than she had before and all it took was acceptance.

It was strange how fate worked. It barely let her be herself when she was angry.

    “What do you plan on doing to Zeus?”

(y/n) knew the last time her uncle had asked her this, she had told him what he didn’t want to hear. She had told him the wrong answer. Turning to him, she smiled warmly, a smile that didn’t resemble Artemis, but Tony instead.

    “Nothing.”

When Apollo smiled, she felt the sun rise to the north. It was afternoon in Greece.

❅

series taglist:

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson​, @mscoloneldanvers​, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark​, @spider-mendes​, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​, @alina-margaret​, @yourwonderbelle​, @viarogers​​, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave​ @oliviaisnotlistening​ @mizpotatobiscuits​ @editsbyjenny​ @abbieroseb​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @secretlittlewonders​​ @missmulti​ @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com  @eunoiametonia​ @adistiany​ @justletmesleeptillidie​ @ppunderoos​ @myheartonthemove​ @heir2chaos​ @honeybutterparker @truthdaze @mvmakki @-thatgirloverthere-@growingthornz @freddies-fried-chicken @jinxedleohttps://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wrongyuckie @gogoca @kewl-r​ @death-by-viola​ @losersunitetonight​ @hungoverhellhound @ro2424 @https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/blackkookiebunn @absmiles123 @fxckingfat @ludwigvonbaethoven @xbabykookiix @madds-lolo @uwukinawa @sunflowernightss​ @diamonddia-mond @5knee​ @imsuperawkward @smileyishere92 @awkward-youtube-trash @spiderbabyx @theshortegg @samthesnoop @kaithezaftig 

[ofadan]

Final Destination AU let's go 💦

notes:  sort  of  spoilers  for  final  destination,  but  not  really?  it’s  literally  the  plot  of  the  movies.  featuring  @ircnxveils,  @addictingvictories,  @byacatalepsy,  @ofjamra,  @swtsvrndr.trigger  warnings:  death,  graphic  death,  violence,  suicide.

          they’re  on  a  cruise  —  courtesy  of  adan  —  on  the  hottest  week  of  summer.  they’re  on  route  to  croatia,  departing  from  venice,  but  as  their  fourth  day  of  the  trip  dawns  on  them,  they  spend  it  in  mykonos,  relishing  the  transparent  blue  waters  under  their  feet.  they  have  just  finished  navigating  their  way  around  the  pearly  white  buildings,  halting  every  ten  minutes  just  to  take  polaroid  pictures  of  each  other.

          there’s  one  of  victoria  sipping  from  a  coconut  through  a  swirly  straw,  then  there’s  maya  trying  on  a  strikingly  white  dress  in  the  middle  of  a  bazaar,  clearly  flirting  with  the  seller.  in  one  of  them,  adan  has  sunglasses  perched  on  top  of  the  bridge  of  his  nose  and  his  tanned  face  brings  out  the  contrast  of  his  smile  as  he’s  laughing  at  jaime,  who  is  slightly  off  the  shot.  for  once,  it  isn’t  eliza’s  scowl  that  is  captured  —  the  girl  is  beaming  during  their  late  dinner  and  there’s  haleema  right  next  to  her,  beautifully  illuminated  by  the  dim  glow  of  the  candles.  

          they  barely  make  it  in  time  —  they’re  on  board  with  only  five  minutes  to  spare,  and  all  of  them  are  sighing  in  relief.  their  laughter  resonates  in  the  halls  as  they  disperse  to  their  own  cabins,  but  adan  feels  a  cold  sweat  rolling  off  his  back,  even  though  the  air  is  humid,  and  a  terrible  feeling  begins  churning  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach.  he  drowns  it  out  with  a  cold  shower  and  a  numbing  episode  of  a  greek  show  that  he  doesn’t  even  understand  before  getting  a  message  that  they  should  all  meet  up  in  the  front  of  the  ship,  right  where  the  pool  resides  in.  they  all  chime  in  with  enthusiastic  responses  and  adan  laughs  at  maya's  selfie  of  her  already  submerged  in  the  pool,  the  crystal-clear  water  coming  up  to  the  bottom  of  her  curls.  she  certainly  never  snoozes.

          then,  the  lights  flicker  in  a  way  that  settles  a  chill  upon  his  bones,  ominous  in  its  existence  —  like  a  warning  that  shouldn’t  be  ignored.  not  that  it’d  matter  anyway  because  exactly  five  seconds  later,  the  ground  beneath  him  shakes  and  he’s  thrown  all  the  way  forward,  his  body  colliding  with  the  oakwood  wall,  which  makes  him  wince  in  pain.  once  he  composes  himself,  adan  throws  the  door  open  just  to  see  eliza  barging  out  of  the  room  at  the  same  time,  both  of  them  staring  at  each  other  in  terrified  bewilderment.  the  captain’s  voice  cracks  in  the  system,  but  he  manages  to  catch  a  word  about  a  crash  and  explosion  on  the  deck.  

          naturally,  chaos  erupts  among  the  passengers.  they’re  all  scurrying  from  one  corner  to  another,  demanding  life  jackets  in  case  of  sinking  and  safety  boats,  and  adan  can’t  blame  them.  he  tugs  victoria  inside  a  janitor’s  closet  just  as  another  explosion  sends  shattered  glass  in  their  direction,  missing  them  by  a  couple  inches.  he  hears  a  voice  booming  through  the  air  again,  warning  them  about  the  abrasive  explosions  and  blown-off  pipes.  great.  if  they’re  lucky,  the  fire  and  water  will  cancel  each  other  out,  but  adan  doesn’t  have  to  be  a  scientist  to  know  that  soon  enough,  they’ll  suffocate  in  the  rapidly  leaking  water  if  the  ceilings  don’t  get  to  them  first  because  of  the  blasts.  

          it  all  happens  so  quickly.  the  wooden  planks  crumble  under  the  force  and  one  of  the  chandeliers  spring  free  from  the  screws,  falling  right  on  top  of  eliza  as  she  tries  to  escape  the  first  floor  through  the  crowd  of  panicked  tourists.  it  pierces  right  through  her  heart  all  the  way  to  the  ground  and  as  the  light  evaporates  from  the  crystal  bulbs,  her  eyes  dim  too.

          haleema  and  jaime  come  next.  as  soon  as  they  make  it  out  to  the  main  hall,  the  glass  sculpture  in  the  middle  of  the  room  doesn’t  manage  to  withstand  the  pressure  and  tips  over,  killing  jaime  almost  instantly.  with  so  many  shards  now  engraved  into  his  body,  mutilating  him,  it’s  hard  to  even  recognize  him.  haleema  makes  the  mistake  of  peering  over  the  railing  to  check  the  ground  floor  and  the  swaying  ship  tips  her  over  the  edge,  right  above  the  fence  of  the  little  botanical  garden.  she  lands  right  on  top  of  it,  with  one  of  the  sharp  tips  peeking  out  of  her  mouth.  at  least  both  of  them  welcomed  an  instant  death.

          adan  makes  it  as  far  as  he  can,  almost  to  the  deck  where  the  waterslides  start.  unfortunately,  he’s  too  slow  —  had  he  been  a  few  seconds  faster,  he  would  have  avoided  being  crushed  by  one  of  the  slides  after  they  shake  under  the  weight  of  rusty  pillars  and  bolts.  he  splashes  all  over  the  walls  and  ground,  like  spilled  milk,  except  it’s  all  in  crimson.  although  it  all  happens  in  under  a  second,  it  feels  like  an  eternity  to  him  ;  the  moment  he  closes  his  eyes,  he  knows  something  else  is  going  to  happen,  and  when  he  opens  them  again  …

          he’s  standing  right  at  the  entrance,  with  a  boarding  pass  in  his  hand  and  maya  urging  him  to  go  forward  with  a  slight  push.  it  feels  like  his  heart  is  beating  ten  thousand  times  per  minute  as  the  staff  tries  to  take  the  ticket  from  him  to  check  it,  but  to  no  avail,  due  to  adan  gripping  it  tightly.  he’s  the  first  one  in  line,  which  means  that  all  of  his  friends  are  still  behind  him  and  not  on  board  yet,  and  he  wastes  no  time  to  turn  around  and  nudge  them  back  down  the  stairs  with  wide-spread  arms.  of  course,  there’s  a  chorus  of   ‘  what  the  fuck,  we’re  going  to  be  late  ’ and  collective  curses,  but  he  pays  them  no  mind  —  right  this  moment,  he  trusts  his  gut  feeling  more  than  anything  else.  “  guys,  we  can’t  go  on  board.  this  fucking  ship  is  going  down.  i’ve  seen  it  ——  ”  he  sounds  frantic  as  he  begins  explaining,  making  sure  to  push  his  friends  as  far  as  possible  away  from  the  cruise.  “  for  fuck’s  sake,  we’ve  all  seen  final  destination!  ”          it’s  too  late  for  them  to  change  their  mind  anyway  —  the  ship  rings  its  final  call  and  a  few  minutes  later,  the  bridge  closes,  and  it  takes  off  to  their  next  destination.  

          the  destination  being  death,  adan  thinks.  he  books  hotel  rooms  for  them  and  he  keeps  checking  his  watch  rather  anxiously.  any  minute  now,  any  minute  and  the  ship  will  crash,  and  everything  inside  will  explode,  and  everyone  will  meet  their  demise,  and  adan  will  be  right.  however,  after  another  hour  passes  by,  he  begins  thinking  that  maybe  he  overreacted  for  no  reason  (  thankfully,  there  are  plenty  of  buses  and  smaller  boats  to  take  in  order  to  get  themselves  back  on  the  cruise  if  it  survives  ),  but  when  he  leaves  the  shower,  drying  his  hair  with  a  towel,  he  sees  victoria  on  the  edge  of  their  bed,  wrapped  up  in  a  robe  and  staring  at  the  tv  screen.  this  just  in  ——  a  cruise  ship  that  was  on  the  way  to  croatia  crashed  with  another  ship  as  it  was  leaving  mykonos.  dispatchers  are  on  the  scene  already  and  trying  to  rescue  people  from  the  sinking  ship.  for  now,  the  number  of  survivors  is  unknown,  but  from  the  looks  of  it,  there  have  been  a  lot  of  fatal  injuries.

           adan  tunes  out  the  rest  of  it.  there’s  no  need  to  listen  ;  he  already  knows  what  happened.  everyone  in  his  premonition  just  died  …  everyone  except  for  them.  so,  that’s  how  it’s  going  to  be?  they’re  going  to  go  out  one  by  one,  according  to  some  fucked  up  order  —  final  destination  style.  still,  adan  is  hopeful.  it’s  just  a  movie,  there  are  no  strange  supernatural  forces  that  would  design  their  lives  and  deaths  in  such  a  twisted  way.  they  will  live.

          “  okay,  ”  he  starts  once  everyone  is  seated  at  their  dinner  table  in  the  hotel’s  restaurant,  forks  hanging  off  their  plates.  it’s  pasta  night,  but  apparently,  no  one  is  that  hungry.  except  thirsty  ——  everyone  has  downed  at  least  their  second  glass  of  wine.  “  listen,  guys.  if  this  is  actually  what  we  think  it  is,  we  need  to  save  ourselves  some  time  before  we  figure  out  how  to  cheat  this  entirely.  maybe  if  we  keep  intervening  …  i’ve  read  a  reddit  thread,  i  have  some  ideas.  ”  he’s  aware  that  there’s  no  cheating  death  and  they  can’t  avoid  this  like  clear  did  because  truth  be  told,  he  would  rather  die  than  suffer  in  a  psychiatric  ward  with  no  social  interaction,  but  something  has  to  be  tried.  someone  says  something  about  killing  tony  todd  if  he  shows  up  to  solve  this  and  it  brightens  up  the  mood  a  little.  “  the  order  probably  goes  like  this:  eliza,  jaime,  haleema,  maya,  victoria,  and  me.  according  to  the  order  of  our  cabins  at  least.  ”

          they  decide  that  this  won’t  let  them  stop  from  enjoying  their  trip.  if  their  days  are  truly  numbered,  they  might  as  well  have  fun  before  going  out  with  a  bang.  maya  and  eliza  decide  to  go  for  a  swim  while  victoria,  adan,  haleema  and  jaime  are  in  their  seats,  sharing  a two-liter cocktail  among  themselves.  they  quietly  discuss  the  premonition  after  jaime  asks  him  to  start  from  the  beginning.

           “  wait,  ”  victoria  interrupts  him,  seemingly  lost  in  thought.  “  you  said  the  front  of  the  ship  crashed  into  the  other,  right?  ”  adan  hums  out  a  yes,  turning  his  head  to  find  the  red-head,  keeping  an  eye  on  her.  if  they’re  right,  at  any  possible  moment  she  might  get  sucked  into  the  depths  of  the  sea  by  a  massive  spiral.  “  and  if  the  pool  is  there,  it  means  that  ——  ”

          shit.  all  of  them  shift  their  gazes  immediately  and  a  shriek  follows.  fuck,  it  wasn’t  eliza’s  turn  —  it  was  maya’s.  they  soon  find  out  that  she’s  been  stung  by  one  of  the  most  venomous  jellyfish  and  the  dose  was  so  strong  that  it  induced  an  immediate  cardiac  arrest.  she  dies  before  the  ambulance  arrives.

          maya  marceli,  time  of  death:  3:49  pm.  cause  of  death:  cardiac  arrest.

          they  don’t  get  enough  time  and  rest  to  mourn  her.  even  though  they  try  to  avoid  obvious  traps  and  scenarios,  death  is  always  one  step  ahead.  it’s  loud  and  crowded  in  the  club  —  so  many  shades  of  purple  neon  are  swirling  in  adan’s  eyes  and  he’s  too  drunk  to  even  walk.  he  hears  shouts  coming  from  the  vip  section  and  he  recognizes  eliza’s  voice  in  the  sea  of  distorted  sounds,  and  he  hurries  to  her  before  something  terrible  can  happen.  maybe  this  time,  he  will  be  able  to  intervene.  except  he’s  not  because  a  fight  breaks  out  and  as  hard  as  they  try  to  break  it  up,  it  ends  only  when  a  broken  champagne  bottle  is  twisted  deep  inside  her,  most  likely  mangling  her  organs.  they  keep  the  criminal  hostage  before  the  police  gets  there  and  they  spend  the  entire  night  in  interrogation.  all  adan  can  think  about  is  the  light  leaving  eliza’s  eyes,  just  like  in  the  premonition,  and  the  fact  that  all  of  their  deaths  are  inevitable.

          eliza  cerrato,  time  of  death:  4:07  am.  cause  of  death:  bleeding  out. 

          death  skips  jaime  for  the  time  being.  

          a  bus  full  of  tourists  comes  out  of  nowhere  when  they’re  hiking  and  haleema  manages  to  get  jaime  out  of  the  way  before  it  can  get  to  him  (  it’s  not  her  time  to  die  —  they  know  she’ll  be  fine  when  she  surges  forward  to  push  him  ).  the  driver  steers  the  vehicle  away,  but  it  dives  off  the  cliff  anyway,  resulting  in  death  of  at  least  twenty  people.  as  adan  begins  losing  count  of  zipped  up  bodies  getting  inside  the  ambulances,  he  realizes  something:  is  this  considered  murder?  maybe  by  saving  jaime,  they  took  away  innocent  people’s  lives,  thus  they  were  crossed  off  the  death’s  list?  they  wait  with  baited  breath.  two  days  pass  by  with  no  casualties  …  the  calm  before  the  storm.

          it’s  two  in  the  morning  when  he  smells  smoke.  the  hotel  is  on  fire.  adan  doesn’t  think  as  he  jumps  from  his  bed,  almost  naked,  and  peels  the  door  open.  he  gets  a  flashback  —  crashing  noises  and  screaming  people,  feeling  like  he’s  tilting  —  but  instead  of  eliza  staring  back  at  him,  it’s  jaime.  there’s  no  room  for  spoken  communication  as  they  both  sprint  to  haleema’s  room  only  to  find  two  bodies  burnt  to  a  crisp.  he  doesn’t  recognize  the  other  person,  but by  the  looks  of  their  …  very  naked  bodies,  he  puts  two  and  two  together.  at  least  they  went  out  with  an  actual  bang,  just  like  all  of  them  had  wanted.  they’re  told  there  will  be  an  investigation.  looks  like  the  bus  crashing  was  all  according  to  death’s  design  anyway.

          haleema  kanaan,  time  of  death:  2:16  am.  cause  of  death:  burnt  alive.

          it’s  victoria’s  turn  and  adan  goes  more  mad  each  day.  he’s  frantically  trying  to  look  for  ways  to  save  them,  but  all  of  the  answers  keep  slipping  from  his  fingers  —  deep  down,  he  knows  that  there  really  is  no  cheating  death,  but  he  needs  a  faux  sense  of  security  to  give  him  peace.  he  keeps  researching  and  there  it  is  ;  a  glimmer  of  hope.  maybe  he  won’t  live,  but  it  will  save  them.

           “  adan,  what  are  you  doing?  get  down.  ”  he  ignores  it.  on  the  contrary,  it  prompts  him  to  take  another  step  closer  to  the  ledge.  will  this  work?  he’s  not  certain,  but  at  least  all  of  this  will  be  over  for  him.  call  him  selfish,  but  he  would  rather  not  watch  any  more  of  his  friends  die  right  in  front  of  his  eyes.  

           “  i’m  the  last  one  on  the  list,  right?  so  —  ”  he  turns  around  to  face  victoria  and  adan,  wincing  at  the  wind  tousling  his  hair  and  neglecting  to  acknowledge  the  terrified  faces  of  strangers  behind  them.  he  vaguely  hears  them  whispering  to  their  phones,  but  everything  in  his  head  is  buzzing  and  there’s  blood  rushing  to  his  head,  and  he’s  going  absolutely  crazy,  and  he  just  wants  to  die.  “  if  i  kill  myself  right  now,  the  order  will  be  messed  up.  ”  the  breeze  hits  him  a  little  harder  this  time  and  he  sways,  to  which  his  friends  respond  by  attempting  to  reach  out  for  him.  “  it  makes  sense!  if  i  die  out  of  my  turn,  we  beat  death!  you  guys  get  to  survive!  ”  he  takes  another  step.  “  if  not,  maybe  it  will  give  you  some  more  time.  hey,  you  can  make  a  baby  together.  new  life  defeats  death,  right?  ”  he  laughs,  almost  maniacally.  then,  he  stills,  going  quiet.

          “  we  should  have  stayed,  ”  he  speaks  up  again,  “  on  the  cruise.  we  would  have  all  died  at  the  same  time,  we  wouldn’t  suffer.  it’s  my  fault  —  ”  he  looks  up,  his  eyes  boring  into  jaime  and  victoria’s.  he  takes  a  final  step.  “  —  and  i’m  going  to  fix  it.  ”

        adan  garza,  time  of  death: 12:20  pm.  cause  of  death:  suicide.

         except  …  he  isn’t  the  last  one.  victoria  is.  in  the  premonition,  they  part  ways  somewhere  in  between  jaime  and  haleema’s  deaths,  therefore,  there’s  no  knowing  when  victoria  dies  as  the  cabin  numbers  don’t  entirely  indicate  their  order.  in  reality,  she  would  have  been  impaled  by  another  ship’s  pole  while  trying  to  jump  out  of  the  cruise  to  save  herself  from  sinking,  a  few  minutes  after  adan’s  death.  which  brings  to  the  conclusion  that  there’s  also  no  way  of  knowing  whether  his  theory  is  true  ——  after  all,  the  man  dies  following  the  death’s  list.

          death  takes  away  the  rest  too.  their  fate  is  inevitable.  somewhere,  far  far  away,  zain  and  al  are  shaking  their  heads  at  them.

          victoria  villalobos,  time  of  death:  9:14 pm.  cause  of  death:  plane  crash.

          james  kaplan,  time  of  death:  9:16  pm.  cause  of  death:  plane  crash.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

The Chair

Prompt/Summary: “I walked into this restaurant and you thought i was your blind date and i just kind of went with it because i don’t want to eat alone”, as well as based off of George Strait’s “The Chair”

Klaine; AU Alternate Meeting; ~1800 words

A/N: This is like two weeks late bc in case y'all have forgotten I'm the slowest writer in the world lmaooooooo

I hope you don’t mind but I changed it up a little, and this is what happened!

Written for @somefeministtheatrepls ‘s birthday! She’s literally one of the best people I’ve ever met (or.. Not technically met but you get the gist) the best beta a girl could ever ask for and the memeiest meme queen you’ve ever met in your life! Thank you for literally making my day every time I open up my messages and for reminding me of the little things that make life worth living :)

I’m so lucky to have so many supportive and amazing friends in this fandom!

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

*

Three times.

That made three fucking times, including tonight, that Cooper cancelled on Blaine. All he wanted was a night out with Cooper to catch up, but instead he’s angrily huffing his way out of the restroom after yet another argument with his notoriously flaky older brother. 

But of course, of course, Cooper cancelled on him without giving any heads up first. And now Blaine had to go back to that bar and finish his drink (he paid eight dollars for it and he’ll be damned if he lets it go to waste) and look like that one pitiful person every bar has that drinks alone and—

His racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he was greeted with the sight of a pale man with perfectly sculpted hair, nodding and smiling politely at the bartender as she takes his order. 

The only thing he could think was How the hell am I going to get him to talk to me?

Before he knew what he was even doing, Blaine walked right up to the man and said, “Excuse me, I think you’ve got my chair.”

The stranger turned and looked at him with wide eyes, likely horrified at his apparent rudeness. “Oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“ he got up to leave but Blaine stopped him.

“No, no!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “That one’s not taken, so I don’t mind if you sit here, really.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, concern lining his face. 

Blaine chuckled lightly. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s usually packed here on Friday nights, and I’d hate for you to have to stand all by your lonesome.”

“Thank you. I’d hate to wait for this blind date all alone.”

“Blind date?” Blaine asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah, my roommate set me up with this guy she barely even knows from her Diction class. She said he’d be here, waiting at the end of the bar—” His eyes went suddenly wide, as if coming to a realization. He looked down at his chair, finally noting that he had the end seat, then looked back up at Blaine. “Oh, my God, I’m an idiot. You’re my blind date!”

Now, Blaine wasn’t particularly proud of what he did next, but he really just couldn’t help himself. The man sitting next to him may have just been a stranger, but he was the type of stranger that he could see himself having a life with. Right now he was just somebody, but Blaine felt that if he got to know the man better, he could be somebody to him. It sounded ridiculous, but Blaine felt a connection as soon as he saw him, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass.

“Yup! That’s me. Can I drink you a buy?” Blaine fumbled clumsily over the words before wincing at them. Nice going. “Sorry,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “What I mean is can I buy you a drink? Anything you please, really.”

“Anything I please?” He teased. “Such a gentleman. Thank you.”

Blaine chuckled sheepishly, deeply hoping that the man couldn’t see his heart beating through his chest. “You’re welcome… I uh, don’t think I caught your name.”

“Kurt,” he smiled. “Kurt Hummel. And it just occurred to me that you must be Aaron.”

Blaine froze for a moment before figuring out how to get himself out of the hole he dug himself into. “It’s uh, Blaine, actually. But it’s fine, I’ve been told my name is kind of out there.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It is not okay, Rachel is just terrible with names. If you’re not a fan or a casting director, she’ll forget it as soon as you walk away.”

Well, that’s convenient. 

“She sounds lovely,” Blaine joked. “But I’d really love to hear more about you, Kurt. What do you do?”

“Well, right now I’m interning at Vogue.com headquarters with Isabelle Wright when I’m not at school. Over at NYU.”

“Wait a second, you go to NYU?” Blaine asked in astonishment. “Me too!”

“Really? What are you studying?”

“Music Education with a concentration in voice, minor in musical theatre performance.”

“Wow, that’s an impressive mouthful—and course load, I’m sure. I’m in fashion merchandising, but I was actually thinking of adding a Musical Theatre minor, too.” Kurt took a sip of his drink and smiled at him through the straw. “Any advice before I audition for the program?”

Blaine leaned in towards Kurt. “Well, Dr. Williams has terrible taste—and he’s sexist, but that’s besides the point right now—so try to avoid audition dates where he’s on your panel. You’ll get points for Sondheim just because of the difficulty level, so if you have anything of his in your back pocket, I’d go with that. Or, you know, one of those classical killing my baby Arias would probably work too.”

His heart fluttered when Kurt let out a snort, bringing a hand to cover his face. Whatever you’re doing, Blaine, keep it up. 

They talked for several more minutes, each glad to be finding out more and more about the other. As time ticked on, Blaine talked about every subject from his annoying older brother Cooper to his opinions on the lack of administrative support for performing arts. In turn, Kurt told Blaine about his family and how life changing his experience in vogue had been.

“Who’s playing tonight?” Kurt asked after the conversation came to a natural lull. 

“I don’t know, but they’re pretty good, aren’t they.” Blaine replied. He sat still for a moment, watching Kurt as he nodded his head along to the beat and mouthed the words. Blaine smiled and got up from his chair to extend a hand to Kurt. “Would you like to dance?”

Kurt smiled and nodded, making Blaine’s heart flutter. “I would love to.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hand and lead him to the dance floor where other couples were gently swaying along to the song played by the band.

You look so good in love You want him, it’s easy to see You look so good in love I wish you still wanted me

“You like this song?” He asked with a light giggle, acknowledging the fact that Kurt was lowly singing all the words against his ear.

Kurt chuckled. “I uh, yeah. My mom went through a pretty big George Strait phase before she passed and I used to listen to him when I missed her.”

Blaine furrowed his brows sympathetically. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks… there was this one song that I would listen to when I was really missing her, but I can’t remember the name.” He frowned and twisted his face in thought. “It’s something about West Virginia to Tennessee? And all I have is this beat up leather bag…”

Blaine’s eyes lit up in recognition. “I know that song!” He exclaimed. “We did a Pure Country themed party a few years ago for my best friend's birthday and that song was part of the soundtrack. I’ll be right back.”

Much to Kurt’s dismay, Blaine released him from his comforting grip and made his way through the sea of people towards the stage where the band was playing. He gently noted that his arms felt much too cold without the man he just met in them.

He was suddenly interrupted by a buzzing noise in his pocket.

New Message: From: Rachel ⭐️ Hey, Kurt, sorry this is such late notice I just got out of rehearsal for the spring show but Aaron (Adrian? God, I don’t remember his name) texted me like an hour ago that he wasn’t going to be able to make it tonight.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion before typing out a response. 

New Message: To: Rachel ⭐️ His name is *Blaine* first of all

Secondly, what do you mean? He showed up before I even got here.

No? Send a pic, make sure we’re talking about the same Aaron/Adrien(?)

Kurt glanced warily around the bar, feeling a little weird about Rachel’s demand, but nonetheless quickly snapped a picture of the curly haired man and sent a picture her way. 

Cute, but not Anton (I think Anton IS the right name, though)

Wait, so this date I’ve had has been with a complete stranger?

Oooooh, mysterious!

RACHEL

Well… is he a total creep?

Kurt glances up back at Blaine, waiting patiently by the stage to request the song Kurt told him about, looking dreamy as ever with his seemingly permanent yet genuine smile and toned arms and olive skin and...

No…

He’s actually kind of perfect.

In that case, you’re welcome. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Kurt was about to respond that the only he wanted to do with this gift horse was kiss him on the mouth before the lead singer of the band spoke up into the mic.

“This one goes out to Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine happily made his way back to the paler man, extending his hand out to him. “I believe this is your song, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt slipped his phone back into his pocket before taking Blaine’s hand and heading back out onto the dance floor.

'Cause I'm carrying your love with me West Virginia down to Tennessee I'll be moving with the good Lord's speed Carrying your love with me It's my strength, for holding on Every minute that I have to be gone I'll have everything I'll ever need Carrying your love with me

Blaine felt Kurt wrap his arms around him a little tighter at the chorus. “Is everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Kurt nodded. “I just… that was really sweet of you to request this song for me.” He admitted, feeling oddly vulnerable about admitting such strong feelings for the stranger in front of him. “I know we just met but… I really like you, Blaine. More than I’ve liked anybody in a long time.”

“I really like you, too…” Blaine trailed off and gnawed on the inside of his lip nervously. “But to tell you the truth… that wasn’t my chair after all.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes playfully and let a smile break loose. “I know.”

Blaine drew his head back in confusion. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah,” Kurt ducked his head shyly and laughed. “Rachel, my roommate texted me about halfway through our date that my blind date wouldn’t be coming.”

“Oh…” Blaine felt color rise to his face. “Look, Kurt, if you want me to go,” he jabbed his thumb behind him. “I get it. I promise I’m not some random weirdo, but I totally get if it freaks you out.”

Kurt responded by pulling Blaine closer. “It doesn’t. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to have been stood up.”

Blaine let out a sigh of relief. “Me, too.” He further explained at Kurt’s confused expression. “My brother was supposed to meet me here to catch up, and this is like, the third time that he’s bailed on our plans.”

Kurt hummed in mock thoughtfulness. “I suppose that means you know better than anyone that the third time’s the charm.”

“I suppose I do,” is all Blaine said before finally leaning in and pressing their lips together.