#the bold parts are the most outta pocket bits

[barrel-crow-n]

Kaz being horrible to Kuwei in chapter 3 (with Jesper occasionally acting as a Kaz-translator + a jab at Matthias because apparently Kaz can't stop himself) <3

"What did I tell you?" Kaz growled, pointing his cane at him.

"My Kerch isn't very good," protested Kuwei.

"Don't run games on me, kid. It's good enough. Stay in the tomb."

Kuwei hung his head. "Stay in the tomb," he repeated, glumly.

"Well?" Jesper prodded.

"I have other interests," Kuwei replied.

Kaz's black gaze pinned Kuwei like the tip of a dagger. "I suggest rethinking your priorities."

Jesper gave Kuwei another nudge. "That's Kaz's way of saying, 'Help Wylan or I'll seal you up in one of these tombs and see how that suits your interests.'"

"I would prefer to go to Ravka," he repeated more firmly. Kaz's flat black gaze fastened on Kuwei and held. Kuwei squirmed nervously. "Why is he looking at me this way?"

"Kaz is wondering if he should keep you alive," said Jesper. "Terrible for the nerves. I recommend deep breathing. Maybe a tonic."

"Jesper, stop," said Wylan.

"Both of you need to relax." Jesper patted Kuwei's hand. "We're not going to let him put you in the ground."

Kaz raised a brow. "Let's not make any promises just yet."

"Come on, Kaz. We didn't go to all that trouble to save Kuwei just to make him worm food."

There was a long, tense pause, then Kaz ran a gloved thumb over the crease of his trousers and said, "Nina, love, translate for me? I want to make sure Kuwei and I understand each other."

"Kaz-" she said warningly.

Kaz shifted forward and rested his hands on his knees, a kind older brother offering some friendly advice. "I think it's important that you understand the change in your circumstances. Van Eck knows the first place you'd go for sanctuary would be Ravka, so any ship bound for its shores is going to be searched top to bottom. The only Tailors powerful enough to make you look like someone else are in Ravka, unless Nina wants to take another dose of parem."

Matthias growled.

"Which is unlikely," Kaz conceded. "Now, I assume you don't want me to cart you back to Fjerda or the Shu Han?"

It was clear that Nina had finished the translation when Kuwei yelped, "No!"

"The your choices are Novyi Zem and the Southern Colonies, but the Kerch presence in the colonies is far lower. Also, the weather is better, if you're partial to that kind of thing. You are a stolen painting, Kuwei. Too recognisable to sell on the open market, too valuable to leave lying around. You are worthless to me."

"I'm not translating that," Nina snapped.

"Then translate this: My sole concern is keeping you away from Jan Van Eck, and if you want me to start exploring more definite options, a bullet is a lot cheaper than putting you on a ship to the Southern Colonies."

Nina did translate, though haltingly.

Kuwei responded in Shu. Nina hesitated. "He says you're cruel."

"I'm pragmatic. If I were cruel, I'd give him a eulogy instead of a conversation. So, Kuwei, you'll go to the Southern Colonies, and when the heat has died down, you can find your way to Ravka or Matthias' grandmother's house for all I care."

"Leave my grandmother out of this," Matthias said.

Nina translated, and at last, Kuwei gave a stiff nod.

[elrw24]

When I first laid eyes on you...Part 1.

Summary: Your friend/neighbor invites you to a party where he invited Scott Evans and Scott brings Chris Evans along. Chris sees you singing karaoke and feels like there was an instant connection between you two.

Chris Evans x Reader

Fluff, implied smut

*Side Note: this my first post ever, sorry if it’s so long. I’ve just been playing with this idea. Let me know if you guys like where this is going and I’d love to write more :)

It was a bright Wednesday morning and you were walking your French Bulldog, Blue and you could see your friend/neighbor, Mark walking his Frenchie too. He waves at you from afar and you meet him halfway to have your Frenchies play while you two catch up. “Y/N!! Good morning pretty girl!” Mark says. “Morning Mark, I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, how have you been?”. “I’ve been good, I just got back from LA a couple of days ago, that’s why I haven’t been around. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you...I’m having a get together on Friday night, I have a couple of friends coming in from LA and some friends from my old hometown in Massachusetts. I wanted to see if you wanted to come over!” Mark asks. “I don’t know Mark, I’ve been feeling bummed since I called off the engagement...” Mark cuts you off and says, “Exactly why you need a night out Y/N. It’s been 6 months....that’s half a year, I think you deserve a night out to let loose and finally leave that bullshit behind. He’s a piece of shit who cheated on you and doesn’t realize what he’s missing out on. So, I’m begging you...please come on Friday! We’re going to have drinks, dinner, some card games, and karaoke. Plus, you never know maaaaaybe you’ll meet someone that night!”. “Yeah...I’m not holding my breath on meeting someone...but I guess you’re right. I deserve this. Just let me know what time you want me over and what you want me to bring.” “You’re a doll, Y/N! Can’t wait to see you on Friday!” Mark says. You guys continue to chat and let the Frenchies play before heading off to your house to go get ready for work.

The week flies by and Thursday night, Mark texts you “Hey doll, just wanna remind you, party starts at 8pm. Don’t worry about bringing food, just bring yourself and your alcohol of choice! And don’t forget...there’s gonna be tons of good looking guys at this party, so get your flirting game back up lol!” You laid in bed and groaned...you loved your friend Mark for wanting to see you happy again and getting you back in the dating field, but you were so nervous to get your heartbroken again. After all, you did spend 10 years of your life with a guy who you thought you were going to marry and grow old with and he turned around and cheated on you. You decided to reply to Mark, “Oh great...I think my flirting game is outta shape Mark...thank goodness for tequila cause that’s what’s going to get me through your party! Can’t wait to hang out though and meet your friends!” You there and decided you weren’t going to think too much about it and just go with the flow.

Your day at work on Friday goes by quickly and before you know it you’re at home by 4pm and with time to spare to get ready for the party. You get home and go about your normal routine of feeding Blue and taking him for his evening walks. You shower and you’re in your room wrapped in your fluffy pink towel, curly hair dripping wet and staring into your closet. What the hell do I want to wear to this party? It’s casual...but you still want to make sure you look good... you pulled a few outfits from your closet and and tried a few on, Blue laid on your bed watching you try on your outfits. You decided on some skinny jeans cuffed at your ankles, a black v-neck shirt and your go-to white low top converses. You decided on your favorite ankle bracelet, you always found it sexy to see a cute bracelet hanging off your ankle. You fix your hair, leaving your curls loose and decided on some light makeup. Your beautiful almond shape eyes stood out with the brown and gold eyeshadow that you had on, light blush and your glossy lips. You spritz on your “Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue” on turn to face your dog, Blue. How do I look bubba? Momma is nervous to meet some new people...tell me I’m gonna be fine. And as if Blue understood you and on cue he barked and licked your nose. You grabbed your jean jacket, just in case it was cold walking back home at night, grabbed your purse, keys, phone and how to forget your favorite tequila.

You walk across the street to Mark’s house, you see a couple of cars in his driveway and parked in front of his house and before walking in you take a deep breath...you’ll be fine...time to let loose. You open the door to Mark’s house and shout his name, you’re instantly greeted by his Frenchie, Lola. Mark comes up, clearly already tipsy, gives you a big bear hug, “Y/N! You look good girlllll, welcome to the party!!!! Come on, let’s go into the kitchen to put your stuff down and let me introduce you to my childhood friend, Scott. He’s making some mixed drinks and let me tell you...they’re the fucking best!!” You laugh and just slap his arm, “Alright, mister party host let’s get that drink.” You walk into the kitchen and see this tall guy mixing drinks and looking so adorable, gives you the biggest smile, “You must be Y/N! Mark couldn’t stop raving about his friend who was about to come over and I’ve heard that you have an amazing voice for when it comes to karaoke. We’re gonna have to do a duet! What’s your poison? What kind of drink do you want?” He asks. “And you must be Scott. Nice to meet you, I’m not a picky drinker, how about some tequila with pineapple juice? But before we start anything...we need to welcome my presence with....TEQUILA SHOTS!!!!” You laugh as you grab your bottle of tequila and pour 3 shots for you guys, you chop up some limes and grab the salt. “Alright boys, here’s to a very fun and much needed night!” You say and you all lift your shot glasses up, lick the salt off your hands, take your shot and then suck your limes. You all shiver and laugh as the shot starts to make your insides feel warm. You start to think, hey this isn’t going to be so bad. This is gonna be a fun night. You see tons of friends in the yard, some in the basement, so many games going on. You stay close to Mark and Scott for the night, you decided to go into the kitchen and make some more drinks for you guys and when you turned your back to make them you hear Mark shout, “AYYYYY! Cap you made it!!”, Scott jumps in, “Bro, I thought you got lost!”. You hear the deep voice say, “Hey man! Thanks for having me, and yeah bro almost got lost...had to swing by and pick up some beer. Hope you all like Heineken!”. Scott says, “Since you made it bro, you gotta have a welcome tequila shot, as my new friend Y/N, likes to call them!” You come back into the dining room with your drinks and stop to look at the tall man standing with Mark and Scott. He was tall, had dark hair slicked back, a perfectly trimmed beard, the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. He wore jeans, a blue t-shirt that fit perfectly around his strong arms, classic converses and stood there with his hands in his pocket. When he looked up at you with those deep ocean blue eyes and beautiful smile, you felt like the world was moving in slow motion. It wasn’t until Mark said, “Y/N...this is Scott’s brother, Chris. They’re my good friends I grew up with in Massachusetts. Chris, this is my amazing friend, Y/N.” As you put the drinks down, Chris extended his hand out to you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you the biggest smile, so genuine and sweet. You reached your hand out to his and shook hands, and you immediately felt an instant spark and connection in your handshake, and as if he felt the same thing you looked up and his deep ocean blue eyes looked up and yours and he stared at you. “Nice to meet you too, Chris.” You shyly said back.

Chris POV:

Shit...I’m running late, I still gotta run to grab some beer for the party. Our old friend, Mark is having a party and mentioned that he’s going to have some card games and karaoke, not that I plan on singing karaoke...that’ll be more of Scott’s thing tonight. Maybe if I have enough drinks and the right song is playing, I’ll be bold enough to sing. I pull up to Mark’s house and walk in and immediately hear his voice “AYYYY! Cap you made it!!” and then Scott voice “Bro! I thought you got lost!”. I laugh when I see how they’ve clearly been drinking for a while now and are both tipsy, looks like I’ll have to catch up...I chuckle to myself. “Hey man! Thanks for having me, and yeah bro almost got lost...had to swing by and pick up some beer. Hope you all like Heineken!”. Scott says, “Since you made it bro, you gotta have a welcome tequila shot, as my new friend Y/N, likes to call them!”. As he says this, you see this beautiful Latina woman come out of the kitchen with 3 drinks in hand. She had the most beautiful olive complexion that almost glowed, beautiful dark curly hair, almond eyes, plump glossy pink lips. She had on a black v-neck shirt that showed a bit of cleavage, but in a tasteful way, her skinny jeans and white chucks. She had a little sway to her walk, showing her voluptuous hips that he almost wanted to grab on sight and pull her to him. When she walked up, she made eye contact with me...her eyes were dark brown, almost black, but her eyes had a sparkle to them and they were mysterious, they looked shy but sassy at the same time. She smiled and when she did I swore my heart ached in a way it hasn’t in a very long time... It wasn’t until Mark said, “Y/N...this is Scott’s brother, Chris. They’re my good friends I grew up with in Massachusetts. Chris, this is my amazing friend, Y/N.” As she put the drinks down, I extended my hand out to her, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”, she took my hand, I could feel how small and soft her hand was in mine, I felt a spark that I can’t explain, it was almost scary how I felt when we shook hands. It was as if I’ve known her all my life or in a different lifetime...Oh my God..what am I talking about? I’ve just met this girl. This can’t anything..Until she finally spoke... “Nice to meet you too, Chris” her voice was so soft, yet strong. She gave me a smile again, that made my heart once again ache. It was a smile that I never want to go away and see everyday. I’ll make it my mission to see that smile for the rest of the night...

Y/N POV:

You instantly snap out of your shyness, by telling yourself...tequila shots...this will make this go better.. “Ah...Chris since you’re just coming in to the party it seems that you’ve earned yourself my famous tequila welcome shot!” You laugh as you grab a tequila bottle, 4 shot glasses, limes and salt. You pour out the shots, pass out the limes and pour salt on everyone’s hands, “Here’s to the rest of the night and new friends!” Scott says as you all lift your shot glasses up to clink. You all take your shots and shiver again. You all begin chatting away, mixing a couple of more drinks, played a couple of card drinking games. It wasn’t until you hear Scott say “Well, Well, Y/N! It’s time...” you laugh, “Time for what, Scott?” “You owe me a karaoke song or a few! Let’s go to the basement guys!!” Chris looks over at you, “You sing karaoke, Y/N? This is gonna be great” as he chuckles. “Well...Mark seems to think I have this great karaoke voice and decided to tell everyone that I was going to sing tonight...I’m starting to think he just thinks I sound good because we’re always drinking when I end up singing karaoke...warning you now Evans...this is probably gonna be the worst singing you’ve ever heard!” You laugh as you grab your drink and follow the guys to the basement for karaoke. He laughs, and you think Oh my God..his laugh is amazing, it’s so contagious “I don’t know, Y/N...you’re gonna be singing with Scott...he can sing amazing when he’s sober, but drunk Scott is hilarious and his singing is more like shouting so you can’t be that bad”...he grabs his drink and follows behind you. You all make your way into the basement along with a couple of other friends and set up the big screen for karaoke. Mark looks at you and says “You’re too humble, Y/N, you have a great voice...and we’ll all be here to witness it”, you look at your friend and give him a sarcastic smile and shoot him your middle finger “Yeah thanks, Mark...you’re just about to set me up for embarrassment!” Chris and Mark start laughing at your comment and sit back ready to watch you guys sing. Scott is searching for a song on karaoke and stumbles across “Kiss” by Prince and says “Yup! This is it...you ready Y/N?” I groan at the song choice, knowing how much you’re about to get into this song... “100% Scott let’s do this!” And you chug down the rest of your beer. The song comes on and you both immediately get into the song, singing at each other and at the rest of your friends. You look over and caught a glimpse of Chris, he was sitting back with his legs spread open, beer in hand, smiling and laughing as both of you were singing and being very animated with the lyrics. You turn to him at one point during the song and sang the lyrics, “...you don’t have to cool to rule my world, ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with, I just want your extra time and your kiss!” And as you say the last part you blew a kiss towards Chris and Mark. You see them both laugh, Chris blushes and smiles before they both start singing the rest of the song with you and Scott. You laugh as you see all of them getting into the song.

CHRIS POV:

I followed Y/N down to the basement to meet the rest of them for karaoke. She grabbed a beer, tequila bottle and her pineapple juice as she made her way out of the kitchen. She seemed humble and shy about doing karaoke, but since she promised Scott a duet she intended on keeping that promise. I joked around with her about how Scott’s singing wasn’t the best when he was drunk and encouraged her that her singing couldn’t be that bad. She gave me a breathtaking smile and laughed at my comment. She threw her head back as she laughed and all I could see was her beautiful neck that I wanted to sprinkle kisses on and down to her chest. Her laugh was like music to my ears, it was something that I wanted to hear over and over again. I imagined how the other sound I wanted to hear come out of those glossy plump lips would be her moaning my name...but I shook my head and tried to reel myself back because all I could feel was my pants tightening. I followed her into the basement, watching her beautiful ass as she walked away, she was curvy in the most perfect way, her ass almost begging to be palmed and squeezed. Again, I had to shake my head and stop my thoughts. I sat back on the couch with Mark and a couple of other friends as she and Scott set up their song. Scott went with “Kiss” by Prince. Of course he would pick such a flirty song...it’s like he knew what he was doing, knowing that Y/N would probably sound amazing singing this...Mark looked over at Y/N and shouted at her “You’re too humble, Y/N, you have a great voice...and we’ll all be here to witness it”, she looks over at her friend and gives him a sarcastic smile and shot him her middle finger “Yeah thanks, Mark...you’re just about to set me up for embarrassment!” Her sarcastic comment made me laugh, she seemed so funny, sweet and sassy all at the same time. She definitely had that little Latina spice that I liked...she seemed to keep all of us on our toes. Scott and Y/N began singing to each other, they were so animated as they were singing. Scott definitely shouting at the top of his lungs, Y/N on the other hand, had a beautiful voice. She was actually singing compared to Scott. At one point she turned over to face us, but making eye contact with me... “...you don’t have to cool to rule my world, ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with, I just want your extra time and your kiss!” and as she said this, she blew a kiss our way, but it felt like it was meant for me as she stared into my eyes. Her lips looked so kissable and plump and all I could think was how I wanted to pull her on my lap and grab her face and kiss those lips...Mark and I laughed and joined them in finishing the song.

Y/N POV:

Scott and I end up singing a few more songs, from oldies to recent music, upbeat music to some sad/romantic songs. Mark and Scott and a few others all made their way into the yard to play some corn hole and beer pong, leaving you and Chris behind chatting for a few before making your way to play beer pong with the others. Chris looked over at you with those blue eyes, at the moment you don’t know if it’s all the alcohol you’ve had or not but you felt like those eyes were going to turn you into a damn puddle. He was still sitting with his legs open on the couch. I couldn’t help but think about how I wanted to straddle those legs and kiss his lips and feel his hardness under you. He sat there with his beer still in hand and looks over at you and says “Y/N, Mark was not kidding, you have an amazing voice...”. You smile and take a sip of your beer, “Eh, thanks Evans...Maybe you’ve just reached the same amount of drunkness that Mark is at when he tells me that” you laugh. Chris smiles and says “Nope, I’m not drunk yet...but that was the best performance and I must say, your little kiss throwing for Prince’s song was great..”. You feel yourself blush and say “Thank you, I like to keep you all on your toes with my performance” Chris stands up and walks up to you and offers you his hand to help you up from the couch, his hand feels so strong and big in yours and all you keep staring at are his arms, his eyes and those pink lips. His lips looked so soft and so inviting but no way, he’s thinking the same thing. As I stand up all I can smell is his cologne, it smells so fresh and clean, it was almost intoxicating. You looked up to the man who was at least 6 inches taller than you, and looked into his eyes, he was staring at your eyes and back down at your lips, almost waiting for your signal for him to kiss you. It’s been months since you’ve kissed someone else, well, years since you’ve kissed someone else’s lips than your ex-fiancé. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or this energy you were feeling between the two of you, but in that moment you did something you never would have done before. You leaned up to this man’s lips and pressed your lips lightly on his, to test the waters and see if it was okay to kiss. His lips were as soft as you imagined and you pulled back and looked at him and he smiled, “I’ve wanted to see how your lips felt since I saw you come out of the kitchen, Y/N.” He leaned in and kissed you again, this time he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer as he kissed you longer, this kiss felt intense and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck and put your fingers at the nape of his neck playing with his hair. You felt his tongue at your lips, wanting to taste more of you. You open your mouth inviting him in. His mouth tasted like mint and beer, in the best way. He lowly groaned into your mouth as he pulled away. He looked at you and said, “I can stay like this all night, kissing your lips, but if I don’t stop myself now I know Scott will probably burst in here looking for us to play beer pong with him.” You laugh and said, “You’re right...the night is still young, Evans..” as you leaned up and pecked his lips, grabbed your beer and walked away.

CHRIS POV:

Scott and Y/N finished up their karaoke and Mark looked over at me and whispered, “We’re gonna go upstairs to the yard and play beer pong, we’ll leave you two alone for a few. Don’t think we haven’t felt how thick the air has been around you two. Talk to her a little, I’ve known her forever and I know her so well, I’m glad she opened up as much as she did. She must really feel comfortable around you, Bro.” My stomach tightened up, was it that obvious that we were into each other? Not that I wanted to hide it, she was beautiful and all I wanted to do was kiss her and get to know her more. Scott, Mark and the others all left little by little to the yard leaving me and Y/N on the couch together, I looked over at her and she had her legs crossed, as she was shaking her foot up and down I couldn’t help but stare at her ankle bracelet and how I wanted to grab her legs and sprinkle kisses from her feet to her ankles, calves, thighs and into her center. I kept thinking how I wanted to see her ankle bracelet on my shoulder while I held her legs up over my shoulders while I pressed my tongue into her center...once again I had to stop my thoughts before I went over to her and pulled her on my lap. She looked over at me with that sweet sweet smile of hers and I had to compliment her singing, it was absolutely beautiful. She blushed, something I engraved into my memory...I told her that I loved her performance for “Kiss” by Prince and that I loved her little kiss at the end. She blushed and told me she liked to keep us on our toes. I decided if we stayed down there any longer it would end up with me pulling her in for a kiss, so I stood up and walked over to her and extended my hand to help her off the couch. She took my hand and we were standing dangerously close to each other. I could smell her fresh, yet floral perfume and I took a deep breath wanting to remember that smell. She looked up at me with those beautiful chocolate colored almond eyes, her lips looking delicious and plump. She looked into my eyes and looked down at my lips as I did the same, she licked her lips and I couldn’t help at how kissable they looked at that moment. I refuse to cross a line and I didn’t want to kiss her without her permission, as I was going to ask her if I could kiss her she gently placed her lips on mine and gave me the most gentle and innocent kiss ever. She pulled away and looked me in the eye, almost to see if it was okay to keep going. I put my hands on those voluptuous hips and pulled her close to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and put her fingers in my hair...I reached down and kissed her again, this time with more passion, wanting her to know how much I wanted this all night. Her lips felt amazing, soft and everything I imagined them to be. She tasted like mint and beer, so delicious. I touched my tongue to her lips and she invited me in, it was passionate, intense and I wanted to keep going...I lowly groaned into her lips because I knew that I had to break the kiss off before Scott or Mark came bursting in ruining our moment....I pulled away slowly and sadly, looked into her eyes hoping that I didn’t disappoint her and said, “I can stay like this all night, kissing your lips, but if I don’t stop myself now I know Scott will probably burst in here looking for us to play beer pong with him.” She laugh that sweet laugh I liked and said, “You’re right...the night is still young, Evans..” as she leaned up and pecked my lips one more time, she grabbed her beer, smiled at me over her shoulder and she walked away. She swayed those hips that I was just holding and I couldn’t help but stare at her ass and I had to palm my boner down in my pants...I followed her up and out into the yard to meet the guys for beer pong. We all played for a while until I saw Y/N getting herself ready to leave. I didn’t want her to leave without getting her number, kissing her one more time and at least walking her to her house...

Y/N POV:

We all played beer pong for a while, drank a little more. Mark still had good music playing and Chris and I paired up to play, we beat Mark and Scott many times. We definitely made a good team, Chris and I kept up the flirting up throughout the game. Mark looked at me at one point and raised his eyebrow at me, I just laughed and shrugged my shoulders, “Hey, this is what you wanted!” I said, Mark just laughed and said, “Damn right!”. After what seemed like hours I checked the time and noticed it was 3am and that it was time for me to home. I started to help Mark clean up and pack up, there were people passed out on the couch and people who had left hours ago, but I wanted to help as much as I could before I left. After all, I live right across the street. Chris and Scott also helped clean up, they look over cleaning the yard, while Mark and I cleaned the kitchen. He looked up at me and smiled, I said “WHAT?!” Mark said, “I see you and Chris got along really well...” I smiled and said, “He’s sweet, is it weird to say I feel like I’ve known him forever? Oh and he’s verrrrrryyyy good looking....why didn’t you tell me he was that good looking?!” Mark laughed and said, “Oh, he’s an awesome guy, genuinely a good guy. That’s probably the vibe you’re getting from him. He seemed smitten by you, you know? You should see where it goes..” I looked up into the yard and see them cleaning up. You all finish up cleaning and you walk over to them to say bye, Scott leans in to hug you, “It was great meeting you, hope to hang with you again soon! Let’s trade numbers!” You smile and trade numbers, you walk over and say bye to Mark, hug him and thank him for a good night, and tell him to stop by for lunch tomorrow. Lastly, you walk over to Chris, “It was nice meeting you, Chris”, he smiles at you and leans in to hug you. He felt huge in your arms, he smelled amazing. You felt the spark again... “It was nice meeting you too. Can I walk you to your door?” You smile and say, “Sure!” You silently walk together to your door, it was a comfortable silence. “Well, this is me...”, you say. He looks down at you and smiles before leaning in to kiss you again, he grabbed your face gently and gave you a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. He smiles on your lips, “I want to do this again, Y/N. Can we see each other again, soon?” You kiss him one more time before giving him your number, and he waits for you to open your door and walk in safely. You close the door behind you and smile to yourself... Shit!! This guy is amazing...

To be continued...

[badwolfrunning]

Just in time for Dot Friday!

Just a cute, sending Dot to college, feels ficlet!

Dot finally got the zipper on her overstuffed suitcase sealed and whooshed out a sigh.

"How's it going, sister sib?" Yakko asked from the doorway. He stood arms crossed loosely leaning against the frame.

"Were you really just standing there watching me struggle?"

"Eeeeeh...no?" Clearly caught he had to laugh, "Consider it payback for moving away."

Dot flashed him a harsh look, "So you're obviously going to help me carry it out to make up for your pettiness."

Yakko rolled his eyes smiling, "Yeah I guess." He moved further into her room now practically bare. Most of what was staying, apparently, were a large poster and the major furniture. But photos, knickknacks, things that made the space distinctly Dot had been packed away ready to once more make their way across the country.

He eyed the suitcase sitting between the siblings.

"I could in fact help you cart this away, leaving me here," He threw his arm across his head dramatically, "All alone-not a sib in sight, quiet days," Yakko leaned onto the bed and started sinking down, "space to myself in the evenings, no one hogging the TV with video games or the landline with gossip. Actually," Yakko abruptly sat up," I was making a point...What was my point again?"

"You need a point to talk now?"

"Nah but I'm sure I was trying to make one."

Dot shook her head, "Your point is that you miss me already!"

Yakko snapped his fingers in feigned realization and jumped to his feet, "That's it!" His hands found Dot's shoulders. He went to say something when a flash of concern crossing his brow, "And you're absolutely sure-"

"Yes! Yakko! I'm sure! I want this, I want to go to college and I want to go back to California."

"Alright, alright, I got it this time, I swear." He put up his hands in defense

"And since I don't want you to feel completely alone like the sad old man you are-"

"-Hey I resemble that-"

"-I'll be back on breaks and I'll call. I promise." 

"I know you will. Won't stop me from missing you."

"As it shouldn't, I'm incredible!"

"Yes you are."

Oh God. 

He was looking at her with 'Dad eyes'. The moniker had been coined at Wakko's graduation from JTAP when the two younger sibs actually had several examples of proud dads to compare him to, ruining Yakko's argument that it wasn't the same thing.

Wakko had been the first of any of them to receive a real diploma, on top of that, his band had just been awarded a chance to record and sell a real single. Yakko was overcome with pride and joy. And as a result was misty eyed for most of the day. 

As much as he tried to play cool, if his sibs were doing something amazing he was usually a goner.

The 'Dad eyes' look itself was something caught between sadness, nostalgia and pride. It was overwhelming to receive. Especially right now. Part of her didn't want him so proud, not while she was so terrified.

This was a big, exciting, intimidating new move for her. She watched both of her brothers make big bold choices like this and now that it was finally her turn, and she was almost petrified!

Truth was, Dot had never known normal life without either of her brothers and now she was going to be completely on her own. 

She didn't remember their parents and whenever she tried to picture them, Yakko's was the only face that came to mind. And she wouldn't see him for at least 4 months.

At least that was on purpose this time.

Dot's breath hitched in her throat as words poured out rapid fire. She launched herself into a hug.

"I haven't even done anything! I wanna tell you not to worry but I don't know if you shouldn't cause I don't know anything about what to expect. I know I'll probably make mistakes and I just don't want you to be disappointed so please just don't be proud of me yet!"

"Dorothy Warner, what are you talking about?!" Yakko pulled her back by her shoulders to look her dead in the eye incredulous, "Not be proud of you?!"

He looked up, her vanity mirror was still just behind her, "Here," he turned her to it. 

"Look.” 

She looked bleary-eyed into the mirror at the two of them. “Look at you, Dot. Look at this incredible, vivacious, intelligent young woman I get to call my sister." 

Dot sniffled not realizing how much she'd teared up until now. Yakko's voice was nasally, he was tearing up too.

But he kept his tone soft and steady hand on her shoulder, "You will probably make mistakes, it's true. But I am never more than a phone call away and no matter what I will always be proud to call you my sister."

"And you'll try not to worry?"

"I promise to try but beyond that eeehhh," he let out a watery laugh and sniffled, "Don't hold your breath." With a finger under her chin he lifted her gaze, "You've got a whole world to explore, Dot, I just wish I could be there with you."

"We would make a great road trip comedy," she said trying to leverage the big wet emotions in her throat.

"Like an Extremely Warners Movie?"

"Yikes."

"I'm sure I can find an afro."

"Oh please, no!" Dot laughed composing herself, "No I...I want to do this one myself. Just me."

"Alright-" they were interrupted by a knock on the front door which subsequently opened. Babs' voice calling out,

"Hey college kid, you ready?"

"Well all aboard," Yakko checked his watch, "5 minutes early as per usual. Come on, kiddo, let's get this stuff outta here, huh?"

Dot nodded and grabbed the smaller of the bags while Yakko took the larger. By the time he rounded the corner Dot was greeting Babs with a quick hug. 

The Warner sister headed past the door.

"We could use just one more set of hands," Yakko said, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Darn and me without any excuses."

With Babs' help everything was set in about oneish trips down the apartment elevator. The -ish being Dot doing one last sweep of her room to make sure she had everything. 

She tried to shake the obvious thoughts protruding about how perfect this all seemed for exactly 3 people. More tears stung her eyes. Hot, angry tears. 

Stupid Wakko. Stupid band. Stupid tour! She teetered around mentally, cursing out her second oldest brother.

Dot took a deep breath as she left her room and paused outside Wakko's door. 

No. Not stupid Wakko, though he certainly seemed to try to earn that title. Today was exciting. Plus, she'd see Wakko again on the break. He was set to be home for Christmas this year. They'd actually get to spend it together. 

The Warners three finally back in the same place at the same time. She couldn't wait. But first. Dot exited her brother's room with his favorite blue hoodie in hand.

Dot pulled the apartment door shut tight and locked it, pocketing her keys. Her hand lingered on the door, so sue her she was a bit theatrical after all. 

She took a deep breath, took her hand back and made her way back down to Babs' car. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yakkoooooo!" 

He knew he should let go but he couldn't seem to get his arms to respond. 

"Okay, okay." The fur under his eyes was noticeably damp and slightly matted. "You sure you have everything you need-"

"Yes, Yakko, I have everything except a brother who can remember to breathe!" 

Dot shouldered her carry on and turned to Babs who offered what reassurance she could, "Don't worry, I've got him."

"Thanks, Babs." The older girl offered a quick hug, lingering her arm over Dot's shoulders.

"But if I have to handle his panicked mess because you forgot to call, I'll get you," she winked and intercepted Yakko's hand before he could trap his sister in another bone crushing hug.

Dot stepped onto the foot of the escalator. Here we go.

She turned to wave, "Bye!"

Yakko was still waving as Dot disappeared over the escalator to catch her flight. Sending her off was somehow even more difficult than it was with Wakko.

Babs looped her arm in his as if stopping any instinct he might have to go after her. "Come on," she pulled him lightly and he followed reluctantly. 

They climbed into her car and set off. The ride was mostly silent. Yakko's eyes had set solidly outside the window. 

Part of him was glad they weren't in LA. It was harder to picture his sibs as small as he wanted them to be when the city that surrounded him only knew them as teenagers. Still, every five minutes or so he felt his stomach clench and his heart rate picked up. 

It had been years since either of them actually fit in one of his arms, despite his having grown significantly too. 

His baby sibs weren't babies anymore. Well, they hadn't been for a very long time. But for some reason everytime he remembered that it hit like the first.

Wakko had been going nonstop around the world, a literal rockstar that never failed to impress and inspire him.

Dot decided to go to college with a focus in production and film business. There was no doubt in his mind she could revolutionize the industry should she choose.

Both of them had exceeded everything he ever thought would be remotely possible for them.

And Yakko himself? He was sure to find his own new adventure soon. 

They rolled to a stop at a light and Babs took his hand with a squeeze, "You good?" 

Her blue eyes shone in the early morning light.

Then again, maybe he already had. He squeezed her hand back, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and he nodded. 

"Yeah. Yeah I'm good."

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass (Part 2)

There is a part 3 coming, I think these two deserve the...culmination, but I wasn’t sure if I could have it ready soon enough. Stay tuned for more, hope you enjoy! x

Part 1   -   Part 3*

It starts with a resounding bang. A back curving over maple hardwood; taut muscle stretching soft cotton fabric; twin jades squinted in concentration; a shoulder blade protruding briefly for one swift determining movement. Red, blue, yellow, purple, orange phenolic resin scattering across green worsted wool like a dozen pinballs simultaneously kicked in various directions.

It ends with the deep echo. A ball falling into emptiness before meeting rock-bottom; the release of a soft withheld breath; firm flesh unflexing with satisfaction; two sets of glossy eyes meeting in a knowing look. "Nice break, Styles. Stripes it is," y/n happily comments once Harry leans back from the pool table.

Gibson’s is full of rowdy chatters, tipsy laughs and fulsome smiles. Strangers bonding for a night of undiluted carefreeness, clicking drinks after merry drinks in honor to their new ephemeral best friends. All sorrows have been forsaken on the coat rack at the entrance,  hung in insouciance, leaving nothing but good spirits to sit at the tables and loiter near the bar. Everything about this place is warm and nurturing, a cosy embrace after a tedious day, a home for the people that lets them nurse bottles and wounds alike, and sees them leave later on, cheerful, relaxed and healing. It took but a second for Harry to understand why y/n is so fond of the place and he was not surprised to find her on a first-name basis with the barmaid, the two of them catching up on life while she was preparing the drinks.

Now, fifteen minutes in, they’ve happily made their way to the vacant timeworn pool table at a secluded corner of the bar, drinks and grins in toe. The space is only lit up by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting daedal shadows along the walls and across the table’s carpeted surface. The subdued light and music crooning in the background make for a suggestive atmosphere, air thick with limitless curiosity and enticing promises.

The corner of Harry’s lips quirks in a wry smile and a bold glint takes residence at the crease of his eyes; the telltale sign of a burgeoning idea brewing up in his cheeky mind. "What’dya say we make this a lil more interesting?" The offer is served with a raised brow, a hand on his waist, and one foot perched on its toes over the other as he leans against the cue.

From across the pool table, y/n is quite endeared at the sight but her response comes out in fake offense,"oh I’m sorry, am I boring you already?"

"Quite the opposite actually." His head tilts the slightest bit to the side, gaze unwavering from her face in a mission for persuasion.

Her lips grimace as she tries to suppress a betraying smile to no avail, "fine, I’m listening."

He grins victoriously at her inability to keep a straight face, his limbs dislodging from his casual pose. "We take turns," his motions at the space between them. "F’we pocket, we get to ask one question. No bullshit answer, jus’ the truth." His eyes are wide as he gauges her response.

"A question, huh?" she takes her time to contemplate the proposition just to watch him squirm in impatience. "Damn, for a sec I thought you were about to suggest strip-pool." She sends him a playful look as she walks the length of the table to step closer to him and have a better look at his chiseled features.

"I mean, m’totally down but might be a bit unfair on your part," his eyes briefly trail down her body in silent conveyance of her single-piece attire. He’s got much more material to shed before exposing skin than she does.

"Wouldn’t you like to know." The suggestive retort has Harry’s stomach churn with humid passion, the question of just how many layers she’s wearing exactly, playing with the most lascivious parts of his brain. "Not that it matters, you’d be butt-naked before you’d get a nip-slip."

"Overestimating yourself?"

"Just giving you fair warning," she shrugs in nonchalance running her fingers along the edge of the table, "so you know what you’re getting yourself into."

When she lifts her head back to connect their gaze again, she finds him biting at his bottom lip to contain his signature smirk, "no worries there, darlin’. M’all willing." He almost punctuates his retort with a salacious wink but decides to save it for a more opportune time. Something tells him he’s in for a long evening, not that it’s any cause for concern. Like he said, he is very much consenting to anything her heart desires to do to him.

"Good to know." Y/n quips back with a smile before leaning on her hand resting upon the pool table. "What’s your question then?"

For a moment, Harry forgets he just broke the rack and successfully sent a plain purple ball in one of the table’s pocket, taking him one step closer to victory and granting him one question as per his own proposition. He quickly gathers his reeling thoughts before settling on an easy inquiry, fingers fiddling with the desire to sketch every bit of her character. "Right um, do you have other hobbies besides playin- or should I say, winning pool?"

She wants to slap- or should she say, kiss the smug look off his lovely face, but her answers airs in the same level tone she employs at work, "yes I do."

It’s not enough for Harry’s archeologic curiosity though. He’s barely dusted off the ground beneath his feet to reveal the hint of new groundbreaking findings; armed with sieves and brushes, he is eager to dig a little further, "and what might those be?"

However, y/n is quick to rebuff him, "uh uh, that’s two questions."

Indignation soars through his straightened posture, as he cries out a faint ’what? no!’ and her own ego grows two size at her cunning deceit, "gotta up your game if you wanna keep that perky bum intact, Styles."

Earlier words resonate in the confines of his outfoxed mind then, you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and he tries really hard not to think about the promise following them. Instead he counterattacks in obvious diversion tactic, "that’s twice you’ve mentioned my ass in the past 5 minutes, perhaps I should read into it?"

"I guess you’ll have to wait and see," she lithely deflects as she grabs her own cue with a determined look etched upon her face, "my turn now."

With powerful strides, y/n navigates around the table to position herself at the most promising angle for a score of her own. Once she has both her target and the cue ball in firing line, she tunes out every last bit of stimulus encompassing her; the muffled sound of the music, the sticky oxygen filling up her lungs with sensual tension, the charming presence of the beau intently ogling her every move.

It barely takes her a couple seconds of intense concentration before a sharp thump is bouncing off the table and piercing through the air. The shot is so accurate, clean-cut, vigorous yet graceful and elegant all out once, Harry finds himself mesmerized by her skills more than the subtle form curving out from her bent posture.

The satisfaction is evident in her traits as she straightens up to face him, a pleased rictus forming at her lips. She doesn’t let any suspense unfurl before she cashes in her prize, "so what’s up with the muffin deliveries? You a stress-baker or summat?"

It’s a puzzle that’s been boggling her mind for while now; ever since the first time she watched him gallivanting around the office, handing out kindness and freshly baked goods for the small price of a friendly smile; it’d been a reoccurring thing ever since. The recollection has Harry’s cheeks warm up to a bashful shade of vermillion at the thought of admitting the reason behind his action: he’d bake a basketful of cakes just so he could give her one without exposing himself. Being straight forward with his infatuation may have been unfeasible at the time, but there was nothing against inconspicuously indulging the sweet tooth he knew she had, right?

"I dunno, just like seein' people smile, and everyone likes a good muffin, right?" His answer teeters on the ledge between veracity and evasion, the genuine ‘they were all for you’ being replaced by a less naked truth.

Y/n nods at his answer and waits until he is about to aim for another shot to voice her musings out loud, "mmm, they are quite delicious." Her attempt to distract him turns fruitful when his ears perks at her sultry voice right as he pointedly knocks the white ball with his cue. It’s off by an inch but a near-hit doesn’t help assuage his frustration, "fuck."

"Oh bummer. Guess you’ll have to pass," y/n can’t help but to tease him.

And the pout on his lips does nothing to quell her amusement, "bollocks, you distracted me."

"I did no such thing," she denies before taking his place at the table. The odds are in her favor, a perfect alignment offering itself to sink the blue striped ball right into the closest pocket. And because y/n never misses a clear shot when she’s handed one, that’s exactly what happens. Tucking the cue back at her side, she mulls over the hundred questions titillating her mind and settles for another pass at him,"is this suit the most extravagant you own and if not, what are the others like?"

Harry scrunches up his nose at yet another dig taken at the expense of his clothes, his voice pitching a halftone higher than usual, "hey, s’nough outta you, leave my suits out of it." There is a pout puckering at his lips and y/n giggles at his theatrics when he brings his hands to his chest in a protective gesture. This man and his suits…

"Somehow I don’t believe you give a single fuck about people’s opinion on your fashion choices."

"Very true. But I do value your opinion." For a brief moment, humor and wit give way to vulnerable sincerity as the two of them lock eyes over the pool table. A shy smile graces y/n’s lips, her heart faltering at his sweet sentiment before Harry gently breaks the consuming stare-off, "well, if you’re lookin’ fo’ more extravagant, I actually have a canary yellow flared suit that goes with a violet dress-shirt." And just like that, they found their way back to confidential banter.

"Damn, now I have to see it."

"One day if you’re lucky," this time he does wink at her, and this time he doesn’t let her enchantress juju distract him from the task at hand. As soon as the balls vanishes from the table, the question flies out of his mouth, "do you really find my suits obnoxious?"

Y/n pauses at the inquiry and tries to read into his eyes. She inspects the bright emeralds for  any unsuspected insecurities and when she finds none, she sends him a simple smile, "I love them. I just enjoy too much your reactions when I give you shit about them." Her chuckle tugs at Harry’s lips, before she lets honesty flooding past hers, "you got such a great sense of who you are, Harry, it just shows in the way you dress. I admire that, don’t let that go."

Interiorly, he’s heart is jumping in somersaults at possibly the kindest compliment someone’s ever granted him, the fact that it came from her only sending his beating organ into more acrobatics. Exteriorly, he returns her tender smile and mutters a timorous ‘thanks love,’ before watching her pocket another ball.

This time she doesn’t have to mull it over, "why did you wait?"

"Huh?"

"When we kissed earlier, you said you’d wanted to do it for a while. Why didn’t you?"

Her words are bare of any reproach as they both lean on their side against the table, inches apart from each other. It’s a fair question; one that she doesn’t really own as the word could have easily tumbled out from his mouth instead. It’s him on the spot though, and while he didn’t quite expect to broach such hazardous matters over a game of pool, he appreciates the openness of their bond. "I dunno, you always seemed so attached to boundaries at work, always so professional, I didn’t think you’d want me to make a move."

"I secretly did," she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Goosebumps race down Harry’s arms as he takes in her confession and the way her teeth are  nipping her lips into a darker shade of pink. His eyes are drawn to them, the urge to close the gap and have her moaning in his mouth growing harder and harder to ignore, "fuck that’s sexy. You’re sexy."

The praise washes over y/n like a cold shower after a scorching day at the beach; startling shivers at first, golden skin tingling, and then all-encompassing relief. She loves how unfiltered he is with her, baring his thoughts to her just as they come, no editing, no secret agenda, no diffidence. Just her pure effect on him plastered across his beautiful face and candy-coating his words with a thick oozing layer of honeycomb syrup.

Leaning the slightest bit towards him, she tempts him with a near-kiss, almost dipping her lips in exquisite spongy fudge, but stops just as their breaths starts blending in one hot mess, "your turn," she purrs against his lips tantalizingly, before stepping away.

Harry looks like he is now the one in need of a cold shower, eyes pinched closed as he tries to compose himself, "right," he clears his throat. It takes him a bit more time to regain enough focus to make a successful go at the game, but once he’s got a good hold on the cue, a stable breath and a clear view of the shot, he takes it with ease and fortune.

As soon as he straightens up, he erases the distance between them, a determined look hardening the subtle lines of his face. "Did you ever think about me like I thought about you? At work, did you ever see me pass in the hallway and it took everythin’ you had not to follow me and kiss me senseless in the copy-machine room while no-one was watchin’?"

"Fuck. The thought might have crossed my mind once or twice," y/n confesses in batted breath. It’s clear the scenario isn’t so much a fabrication of his mind made on the spot as it is  a confession of his own experience, and the thought has the air in her lungs going scarce, as though she’s reached the apex of Mount Everest.

Harry isn’t fending off the heated tension much better, fingers twitching around his cue as he’d rather have her underneath his fingertips instead. He takes one look at the ceiling to stave his yearning some and draws in a deep breath."This is killing me," he whimpers while his lips skim over he skin of her forehead. "Go on, take your damn shot so we can be done with this game."

"It was your idea," she reminds him wryly. All of it, really; coming here, playing pool, playing 20 fucking questions, this heated hodgepodge of salacity and virtuous adoration is all his doing.

"I miscalculated."

"Poor you," y/n gently mocks is disgruntled attitude before scoring another ball, or as she likes to regard, another question, another opportunity to further tease at his already crumbling countenance, "what about you, Harry, do you ever think about me? At work… or otherwise?"

She already knows the first half of the answer and only voiced the double-entendre to rile him up, so she’s quite stunned when he whizzes, "too fucking much fo’ my own good."

The pained expression on his face is almost comical for y/n, she can’t resist probing at his despair, "me too." He groans at the flowing visuals he can’t ban from his filthy mind before she gestures towards the pool table in a gentlemanly way, "and that’s your cue," they both share a chuckle at her silly pun.

If Harry wasn’t so lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, he would revel in the way their intellects seem to dovetail on all fronts; humor, banter, seduction, sincerity, nothing is lost in translation, they seem to talk in the same love language. From teasing digs and dirty innuendos to play on words or heartfelt confessions, they know exactly which frequency to tune in.

"Fuck, I can’t see straight," he laughs as he misses a shot for the second time, and y/n quickly takes over his spot around the pool table. Settle, relax, aim, breathe, shoot; another point to her flawless record. She turns to him, looking intently at his blown irises to stir up the flame already inhabiting them, "was it good?"

"Mind-blowing," he answers without unlocking their eyes, and the whole conversation is starting to get to her too. Her thighs rub against together, knuckles turning white around her cue as she tightens her grip and Harry has to bite his lips to contain a moan. He tries to distract himself by taking his turn in the game, and burst out in laughter when he pockets the ball and y/n cries out, "blue ball in the pocket! I feel like their might be a subliminal message somewhere but I can’t quite put my finger on it"

Once they regain their breath from laughing, tears of joy actually peeling from the corner of their eyes, they go back to staring at each other. It’s Harry’s turn to ask a question, and the anticipation had y/n fidgeting under his consuming gaze. She expects him to bounce back on the previous question, but to her surprise he decides to take a different route, "tell me darlin’, if I were to kneel at your feet and look up that pretty dress right now, what color your lil panties would be?"

The question sounds boyish really, yet instead of rolling her eyes at him, her core clenches around emptiness at the thought of having him between her legs right this moment, "can’t answer that, sorry."

"Oh come on love, you gotta say. Them’s the rules," Harry tries to coax the answer out of her but she’s not budging.

"Sorry, Harry. I’d tell you if there was anything to tell." His eyes widen at her lewd implication, the revelation of just how many layers away she is from being in the nude, coming into light. Damn, he would have gotten much more than a nip-slip.

"Fuck me, I need to sit down for a mo’."

She laughs at his dramatic response before picking up her cue, "you do that, in the mean time…" The rest of her sentence is cut short as she positions herself at the pool table, and the next sound cutting through the humid atmosphere comes from the ball falling into its target.

"Jesus, do you ever miss?"

"I don’t play to lose, Styles," she quips back. "Now, what’s your biggest fantasy? Aside from shagging in the copy-machine room, that is."

Harry takes one step closer, gently backing her against the table with one hand encasing her at either side of her waist. As he towers over her, his ardent look ignites a fire at the pit of y/n’s stomach, flame licking all the way up to her heart and down to her toes. Her core throbs before the words fall out of his supple lips like maple syrup on a stack of fluffy pancakes. "Right now? Bend you over this pool table and have my way with you."

"In front of all this people?"

"What d’you think is stoppin’ me from doin’ it right now?"

"Manners?"

The retort earns her a deep chuckle, as he shakes his head in disbelief, "fuck y/n, I lost my manners the moment you kissed me."

The raw admission sends a shiver down her spine, before she regains her full bearings and pushing his cue against his chest for him to grab, "your turn."

Barely moving from his spot nestled against her, he successfully sends the ball down the drain and doesn’t waste any time before asking in the same sultry voice, "favorite position?"

‘Why are y’asking?"

"Future reference," he announces confident.

"Well in that case, kinda like this…" she brushes against him as she bends over the table, ass jutted out on one side, before adjusting the angle of her cue and aiming for the pocket, "…when everything aligns and it just sinks…" bam, she propels the sphere in one strong hit "…right through." She finishes her demonstration with a score and a suggestive smile, only but one ball left for her to obliterate; the eight ball. "Are you ready to lose, Styles?"

"Dunno, is that your question?"

"Yes. I got everything I want to know already."

"Then I don’t fucking care about losin", s’not the game I wanna play anymore," he trails a finger down the skin of her back, goosebumps erupting at his touch. He is stopped by the tip of her cue pressing at his chest, slowly pushing him back from her space, and his hands meet this air in surrender. She’s got a wicked smile on her lips and a title to uphold after all, "last shot, make it count."

Harry takes the shot hastily, half expecting another miss, but the solid yellow ball disappears into the table’s corner in a vibrant crash. Eyebrows raised and shallow breath, he pivots back towards her, "please tell me this is turnin’ you on s’much as it’s turnin’ me on?"

"Yes," she rubs the exposed skin of his chest, eyes leaving his face to trail down his torso. "I’m just better at hiding it," she brings her lips to his ear, "physically or otherwise apparently." Then she leaves a loud smack on his cheek and goes around the table to sink the last ball standing in the way of her victory. In true y/n fashion, she completes a faultless round with one last graceful hit that leaves Harry transfixed by her dexterity.

"Damn, you are the queen of pool, I’m bowing down to you. Any final question?"

She lays the cue down on the table before coming up to him, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me back to my place?"

His head falls back on its neck, eyes closing in deliverance, "fuck yeah." This whole night may have been the most intense and rousing foreplay he’s ever experienced, he can’t wait to deliver good on his own promise.

➪ Masterlist

[akillysheel]

TENUOUS.  ( 1 )

Summary:  Cthugha explains a little more about who he is and why he’s there--  besides the obvious, of course. Warnings:  N/A. Notes:  Yes, nouns like ‘Balance’ and ‘Universe’ are capitalised on purpose.

    THE  STRANGER  NAVIGATED  the precinct as if he’d been there before.  He wound his way through tables like a snake, ignoring the curious glances that officers shot him as he passed.  As he reached Kuro's office, the Sheriff was almost convinced that he was the one who didn't know his way around the station.

    "Oh,"   the boy mused, head tilted upwards in the direction of his corkboard.  It was littered with different coloured post-it notes and twine, Kuro’s neat block letters bold against their garish backdrop.   "An upgrade for sure."

    "Who are you?"   Kuro asked slowly, enunciating every word as he stared at him intensely.  Part of him felt that he should recognise him.  Perhaps it was the familiarity that he'd been approached with.

    "My name is Cthugha.  I came from the future,"   he replied nonchalantly, arms tucked behind his back as he looked over the board.  He winced slightly upon seeing one of the names on one of the many sticky tabs.   "You never find that one, by the way."

    "Excuse me?"    Now he felt irked.   "That's a real case, y'know.  This girl's really missing.  That's somebody's daughter."

    "Unfortunate,"   Cthugha said, his tone a fraction softer.

    "She ain't fodder fer yer li'l sideshow.  She's a real person 'n' she's Raku-knows-where.  Y'don't have the right to t'be involvin' her in yer stunt."

    The look that Cthugha shot over his shoulder was cold.  After a beat of silence:   "Her name is Olivia Brannon.  She went missing a week ago.  You found her things in a field directly adjacent to the subway tunnel--  her dorm keys, student ID and textbooks--  but you have no further leads.  You think that she's playing hooky with a boyfriend she's keeping a secret from her overbearing parents--  that she threw her belongings as a student away to pursue a life with him in private--  but he's still in town and hasn't seen her either.  You’ve pursued him for questioning but he’s come back clean as a whistle.  He even has an iron-clad alibi under his belt!  You don't know where else to look, so you trawl through town like a dog sniffing for blood, only to find nothing.  The case eventually goes cold."   A thin smile shaped his lips as he took in Kuro's stupefied expression, impatient and derisive.   "How's that for a stunt, Sheriff Braav?"

    "H-How did you--"

    "What part of 'the future' do you not understand?"

    A thick blanket of silence befell them, and Kuro found himself leaning against the wall for balance.  Just five minutes ago, it had been a typical Tuesday morning.  Now, it felt as if his world was teetering to one side, his pulse an electrical current that thrummed in each temple.  It wasn't easy to bewilder him after all that he'd seen, but this curious stranger had achieved it in a matter of minutes.  How else was he supposed to react to being told airtight details about a case that hadn’t been made public knowledge yet?

    How is any of this happening?  What is happening?  None of this is right.     Who is this guy?

     "I won't waste any time,"   Cthugha said soberly, moving away from the board.  He circled Kuro's desk like a vulture, blue eyes scanning the tabletop with apparent interest.  A finger grazed a half-solved rubix cube curiously.   "I've come for one very important thing:  the Balance is at stake.  I need to fix it.  You can help me."

     "What…?"   Kuro blurted stupidly, mind reeling.   "What're y'talkin' about?"

     "Alright."   Cthugha paused to pinch the bridge of his nose.   "I'm gonna need ya to sharpen up, detective.  I came to you because I know you're smart."

    “Surely y’realise how insane this is!”   Kuro bit back, finding a foothold in the conversation.   “This kid materialises out of nowhere--”

    “Not a kid.”

    “-- ‘n’ tells me that he’s from the future, ‘n’ that he’s here t’restore the Universe’s Balance--”

    “In layman's terms.”

    “--’n’ that he needs my help t’do it.  Ten minutes ago, I was enjoyin’ a cup’a coffee ‘n’ finishin’ the paperwork fer an open-’n’-shut robbery!  This shit is  WAY  outta my professional league.”

    There was a lilt in the conversation--  one in which was stolen by the subtle tilt of Cthugha’s head.  There was a strange metaphysical gravity that surrounded him, one that drew in attention like he was sucking it through a straw.

    In a small, hopeful voice:   “... you have coffee?”  

    “That’s what y’take away from everythin’ I just said?!”

    “I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in months,”   murmured Cthugha, scratching his chin pensively.  Whatever peril the world was in, it seemed to be irrelevant to him now.   “I had some at a diner in a pocket dimension a couple weeks ago.  The waitress was lovely but the coffee was…”   His teeth came together in the form of a fierce grimace.   “... sweet.”

    Kuro blinked owlishly, his mind racing.  Everything was happening so quickly.  He'd had no time to process the other's abrasive introduction, nor the deeper meaning of the things he was saying.  The most he knew of the 'Balance' was that it was a cosmic force that even God's wrestled with.  On the handful of occasions that it had come up in conversation, Raku was either struggling to maintain it or finding loopholes to avoid doing unsavoury things to appease it. Hardly an educational display.

    "How about…"   It was a sheepish start, no doubt, the town-hero more than a little out of sorts.  He paused to stand up straight again, trying to strengthen his resolve.  Get it together.  He's scrawny.  But so is Raku.  He owns the very ground that you stand on.   "... I put on a pot of coffee, and we talk more?"

     "See, now it feels like you’re meeting me in the middle."

                                                                ________

    A sense of normalcy returned to him as he took a sip of his coffee.  The Regular Tuesday vibes are back.

    "What's the verdict?"   he asked as he watched Cthugha peer into his cup.  He found it incredibly odd that somebody who looked so… on-the-cusp-of-adulthood-and-no-older had asked for it black, all but turning his nose up at the offer of sugar and milk.

    "Hm..."   He hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing at the dark abyss before him.  Then, he took a sip.  Kuro watched as he paused mid-drink, eyes widening slightly.  After a moment, he began to gulp it down, continuing until his mug was empty.  

     After a relieved little exhale:   "Refill?"

    "Sure…?"   the Sheriff said hesitantly, reaching for the pot and filling his mug again.  He seemed to slow down for his second helping, really taking in the taste of it.

    "Ah…  this district gets it.  So much flavour,"   Cthugha praised, looking comfortable in his cross-legged position in Kuro's chair.  It's frame dwarfed him, the black leather suiting his businesslike approach.   “I’ve found that’s a common trend here.   Huros make good food too;  organic produce, and lots of spices and herbs.”

    "Uh, yeah…"   He couldn't focus on the idle chatter.  He had too many questions--  too many burning queries-- to ask for anything other than answers to them.   "So about why you're here--"

    "Well, as you observed, I can tell the future, because I've seen it.  I--"

    "But how?"   Kuro interrupted, unfolding a rickety metal chair and sitting on it.  It creaked angrily beneath his weight, his six-and-a-half-foot frame not built for its meagre services.   "Who are y'?  What are y’?  I-- I've met Raku several times over and not even he can mess with time--"

    "I'm sort of his foil,"   Cthugha answered impatiently, his foot tapping against the arm of the chair.   "Look, do we have to play Guess Who right now?  There're more important things--"

    "I need t'know how y'knew about Olivia.  I ain’t gonna help y’at all ‘til I know that.  How do I know yer trustworthy?  How can I be sure my own officers ain’t leakin’ things t’outside sources?   I don’t know y’.  How could y’know?"

    There was a tense pause between them, one that seemed to reverberate throughout the office.  Suddenly, Kuro felt incredibly claustrophobic--  as if the sound bouncing off of the walls was drawing closer and closer.  He watched as Cthugha sighed, drawing his mug to his lips for a final time before setting it down in his lap.

    "Fine.  I'll tell you.  Once.  So you’d better listen good.  You just remember--  you asked for this,"   he warned, tone anything but ceremonious as he wagged a finger at him.   "God's can't touch time because that's what we rifters are for, dummy.  We govern the fabric of reality. Time's separate to a God's responsibilities, see.  Gods maintain districts and concepts; we maintain things relating to the Universe itself.  Time and space, namely.  Those things're outside of a God's scope."

    "So yer…  above Raku?"

    "I'd argue yes,"   the rifter said pridefully.   "That little chump's only got a district to look after.  I've got this entire timeline, and parallel timelines that're born from this timeline."   He retrieved his coffee, brought it to his mouth.  With his lips against the rim:   "... but it doesn't matter.  We work together.  In tandem.  We help each other.  The basic idea is that Gods keep their people happy;  those happy people are way more likely to stick to their destined paths, which means less problems for rifters.  If there is a threat to the peace of the district, the God quells it;  if it is a threat to the Balance, I do.  We ultimately both serve the same function--  to keep the Universe happy--  but we're at opposite ends of the spectrum."

    "We're…  pre-determined?"

    "Heh.  I forgot you're the existential type,"   Cthugha tittered numbly.   "No.  Not in the way you're thinking anyway.  People live in more of a probability map than they do a script;  they have a list of things they could do in any given situation and can select from most of them without any real consequence to the Balance.  People have free will because the Universe isn’t overly fragile, get it?  The continuum isn’t going to shit itself if you take a detour from your usual lunch order.  Every choice births a parallel universe in which the other was made.  Most of these parallel universes are benign and don't need to be touched.  So basically, you could make any choice and each of them would be as inconsequential to me."   At least, if we’re talking about your average choices.   “No more about this, okay?  It isn’t gonna do you any good.  I’m not really supposed to talk about it, but since you were so stubborn...”

    He wasn't going to get into the ins and outs of his job, especially not with a simple huro.  It wasn’t productive.  It wasted time.  It could have catastrophic consequences for his mortal mind.  And the Balance, above all, was a picky sonuvabitch that Cthugha didn’t understand.  Sometimes a store being out of a person's favourite sandwich led to them becoming an angry, tyrannical politician that eventually ended the world.  Other times, a person could murder seventeen children in cold blood and the Balance remained unchanged, seeing those seventeen lives as pre-determined losses.  He’d stopped asking questions a long time ago--  had learned to accept that, in most instances, what was meant to be was meant to be.

    Not when it concerned the end of all life in the Aphanta Region, though.

    Kuro looked dizzy.  He sank a little further into his seat, his tanky frame looking all but comical in the small fold-up chair.   "... 'n' what can I do about any'a this, huh?  I'm just a police officer.  A damn good one, sure, but I’m no cosmic cop."

     "Mm,"   agreed the time-keeper, a solitary nod offered.   "Sure.  But you're a police officer in a district that contains a Universal Hazard."

    "Universal Hazard…?"

    "Sheriff."   It was the first time that Cthugha had paused to find the correct words during their conversation.  He seemed brazen, largely unconcerned with hurting peoples' feelings, but this appeared to be an exception.  Kuro steeled himself, spine turning rigid.   "... I've seen the death of this district, then its neighbours, then beyond.  It all circles back to one very particular problem:  a case you never solve."

    “Brannon…?”   he asked, feeling his heart leap into his throat.

    “Not her.  Someone whose case’s gotten so cold it’s practically subzero,”   Cthugha murmured, polishing off the last of his coffee with a well-timed swallow.   “Remember Mia Vanton?”

    “... oh shit.”

    Cthugha nodded solemnly.     “Yeah.  Her.”

[bunnyywritings]

nice to meet you..?

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥

[a/n: it’s finally here! Part one of ‘time to hit the books’ it’s a little nerve wrecking since I’m not very confident in writing these types of au’s BUT I’m excited to see how this turns out and I hope you all enjoy! Also, sorry it’s a bit short, I promise the next chapter will be more interesting since this is more of a introduction chapter -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

“Alright everyone, remember to cram as much studying as possibly over the next couple of weeks. If you fail this exam, I will fail you and you will have to take summer remedial lessons.” Everyone cringed at the thought of spending the summer in a classroom. “With that being said, class is dismissed. Get outta here.”

Excited chatter filled the room as everyone was packing up their stuff. Relieved that the school day was finally over. You had started to walk out with Denki when you heard Aizawa call out to you.

“Can I have a word with you?” Surprised you nodded, Denki muttering a goodbye before walking out.

“What’s up Mr. Aizawa? Is uh...is everything okay?”

“Well yes and no.” His uninterested tone doing nothing to quell your nerves. “As you know, the OWL exams are coming up. And, well, to put it bluntly...” he seemed to be a bit conflicted on his wording. “Your grades are slightly above average so there’s no problem there but you scored very low on every practice exam that we’ve had so far and as your homeroom teacher, I’m concerned.”

An embarrassed blush made it’s way to your cheeks and the tips of your ears. “Y-yeah...” You scratched the back of your neck. “I tend to test really bad, so I am a bit worried.”

“As much as I trust you to study hard, I want you to have someone to help you improve your test scores. So I’m assigning you a tutor.”

“Oh...okay. That’s understandable.”

“You may not have met him yet, he’s in my morning class but he’s an honor student and he’s gotten the top score each practice exam.” Just then, the door forcefully swung open. An angry looking blonde kid swaggered through the door. His disheveled tie had the gryffindor crest on it. “(Y/n), this is Bakugo Katsuki, he’s going to help you study for the OWL exam.”

“Tch, so this is the extra they needs help?” He scoffed. “Listen up you hufflepuff dimwit, I’m only doing this so I don’t get docked grade points. Don’t think I’m doing this willingly.” His growl caught you off guard. He was definitely not your stereotypical gryffindor.

“Uhhm o-okay. That’s n-no problem hehe.” You laughed awkwardly, not really knowing how to respond to such bold distaste.

“I trust that the two of you will make up a schedule and keep to it.” You nodded while Bakugo just huffed in annoyance and shoved his fists into his trouser pockets. “Alright, you’re dismissed.” And with that, Bakugo high-tailed it out of the classroom.

The entire way to the dormitory, you were trying to decide whether working with this Bakugo character would work or not. Entering the common room, you were met with greetings from everyone that was lounging about.

“So what happened with Aizawa?” Denki asked as you dropped your bag on the ground and slumped onto the couch right next to Ochako.

“He’s requiring that I get tutored for the upcoming exam.” You groaned.

“Well, you have been doing pretty bad on the practice exam.” Ochako smiled sympathetically, patting your back softly.

“Who’s your tutor?” Sero asked, taking the seat beside Denki.

“Uhh Bakugo Katsumi? No...Sashimi? OH! Katsuki. Bakugo Katsuki.” You nodded thoughtfully. “He’s uh very interesting.”

“No kidding, that kid is kinda a jerk.” Ojiro scratched his cheek softly. “You know Midoriya, in our class?” You nodded, “That Bakugo kid constantly bullies him.”

You gasped. “No way, but Izuku is so sweet...” As conflicted as you were, you knew that there was probably more to this Bakugo kid than anger. But as you sat there, the others continued to voice their obvious disdain for the kid.

“Hey guys...maybe we shouldn’t be so mean about it. There has to be more to him than that, he’s probably s-super nice once you get to k-know him.” You stuttered in defense of your tutor. Whether you personally knew him well or not. You instantly realized that was the unpopular opinion.

“(Y/n)’s right, we shouldn’t be bad mouthing someone we don’t know.” Tsu agreed, which made everyone hesitantly drop the subject.

“So how about that potions class, huh?” That seemed to put everyone in the right mood as they laughed and reminisced on your earlier class when Professor Midnight mixed the wrong things in her couldron and made it explode.

The rest of the day had gone like that, you guys were just talking about whatever until it was time to head over to the grand hall for dinner where you all split off to your respective friend groups.

“Hello.” You sighed as you slipped into the seat, greeting Shoji and Tokoyami.

“Hello (y/n). Is something the matter, you seem worried.” Tokoyami tilted his head to the sided, Shoji nodding in agreement.

“Well, the upcoming OWLs are getting me a little stressed PLUS Aizawa gave me a tutor to help me out but-“ You were cut off by a loud commotion a few tables away.

“Get out of the way you damn nerd!”

“S-sorry Kachaan!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

“But that’s him.” You face palmed, finishing your sentence.

“Bakugo is your tutor?” Shoji’s eyes widened.

“Well yeah but I don’t want to make any assumptions until I actually get to know him...you know?”

“You know, sometimes you hufflepuff’s are exactly what you’d expect.” Shoji chuckled teasingly, shaking his head. “You’re too kind for your own good.”

“Well, is that such a bad thing?” You tilted your head in thought.

Once dinner had started, the three of you had talked about how classes were going and maybe making plans to head down to hogsmeade during the weekend. Both Shoji and Tokoyami were Ravenclaw, and it showed. They were the most chivalrous and studious people you knew, but in terms of houses, not everyone was the stereotypical house expectation.

“Hey, (y/n)?” You turned to see Todoroki, he was one of the few Slytherin you knew.

“Oh hey Shoto.” You tried hard to suppress your blush. “Do you have the your notes for herbology? I would like to borrow them, if that’s alright. Your notes are usually very neat and comprehensive.” Your cheeks burned with the blush you were holding back.

“Of course! Thank you. C-can I give them to you after dinner?”

“That sounds quite alright, I’ll head to your common room later. Thank you (y/n).” Then, he left. Leaving you a blushing mess as your two friends poked fun at you. Bakugo had seen the interaction from the corner of his eye and growled, turning back to his food and continuing to eat. You were none the wiser.

You were giddy as you walked back to your house dorm and rushed to your room, Mina and Ochako jumping at the sudden intrusion. Both confused at the smile on your lips and the blush on your cheeks as you grabbed your bag and started to rummage through it.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Mina giggled.

“Oh n-nothing. Make sure your out before curfew or Professor Aizawa will kill you.” You giggled, despite the warning in your words and before they could question you further, you rushed out once more. The moment you stepped out, you were met with the sight of Shoto leaning against the wall near the entrance. He was in a simple black jumper with his house crest on it, and some grey sweatpants.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” You called out softly, causing his to stand up straight and approach you.

“No, that’s alright. He smiled softly. Bakugo had hid behind the corner once he had hear the two of you talking, teeth gritting at how stupid it was. He watched as you timidly handed the slytherin boy your notebook, and how your blush intesnsified when your fingers accidentally brushed against each other’s.

He got even more frustrated at how his chest constricted. Why was he so angry? He had seen you at the start of the year but had never talked to you, he had seen you interact with his friends before and he always found himself looking at you during breakfast or dinner time. He was always entranced by your smile, or the slight snort in your laugh when Shoji or Tokoyami said something comedic.

“I hope I can re-pay you. Maybe you’d like to join me to hogmeade on Saturday? I’ll treat you to some butterbeer for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

“It’s really no problem, I-“ You paused when he took a step forward, leaning down inches away from your face. “Please, I insist.”

You swallowed nervously, “O-okay sounds good. G-goodnight Shoto.”

“Good night (y/n), see you in class.” You bit your lip as you watched him walk away.

Not only did he despise Todoroki but he was his rival too, since both of them were the captains of their respective quidditch teams. So the fact that he was making you stutter and blush, he also had done something he previously never could’ve done...actually talk to you.

“Hey, idiot!” You jumped, the sudden loud voice shaking you from your daydream. “Our first study session is Friday night, after dinner. Got that?! We can study in your stupid common room since the extra’s in ours never shut up.”

“Oh uhm okay, sounds good. Thanks Bakugo!” Your smile caught him off guard.

“Whatever dunce-head, I’ll see you then.”

You watched as he stomped away.

“What’re you doing out of the dorms? Curfew is in 10 minutes.” Aizawa’s voice made you eyes widen.

“I-I was just gonna head in, g-good night!” You panicked and ran into the dorms.

“MINA!! Code red!”

“Crap! Bye Uraraka, (y/n)! See ya later!” She grabbed her things and rushed to the false bottom under your bed. There was a secret stairwell that led straight to the kitchens and passed the normal entrance. It was very useful to use as a way to grab some midnight snacks. You quickly got ready for bed, getting some homework done before settling under the silky bed covers and plush pillows. You had quidditch practice in the morning so you needed to get some rest. All that was on your mind though, was your outing with Todoroki and your Studying with Bakugo. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t handsome but his attitude was a little off putting. Still, you didn’t want to pass any judgment until you actually got to know him.

That’s if he gives you the chance.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ (open): @stargazerunlimited, @ohbois-biggay-bnha

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Riylli, Rising, and Cravs rethink a plan.

(Rising Lotus) Help me come up with a name for my Shiny Marill (Cravendy Hound) meryl streep (Rising Lotus) Mmmmmmmm nah (Riylli Aliapoh) azumeryl streep (Cravendy Hound) sdfs azumeryl

Riylli Aliapoh waves to Rising as she enters the room. "Hey, you finally made it!" She says, despite only arriving herself only about a minute ago. "Okay! Now we can finally start! The goal for tonight is to figure out a way to deal with that Rot lady! And maybe get a little drunk. But just a little, got it?"

Cravendy Hound sweeps a neat pile of sawdust into the corner and then disappears into the back to put her broom away. Contrary to Riylli's suggestion, she comes out with her arms full of bottles.

Rising Lotus walked in and immediately took a seat at the bar, leaning back against the counter. "Do you think it's a good idea to plan while drinkin'? Also you missed bar night last night!...well I 'spose you didn't miss much though. Slow night."

Riylli took her seat beside Rising. "...Wasn't really in the mood." She muttered, waving her hand dismissively. "And were only gonna get a little drunk, remember? Just enough to spark our creativity!"

Rising Lotus shrugs and give Riylli a dismissive wave. "Don't worry I get it, between Mivo an' Mayumi. Nothin' wrong with takin' a night to yourself, you were missed though." she gave Riylli a smile and a thumbs up, spinning on her stool after to eye up the selection.

(Riylli Aliapoh) ("Only a little drunk")

Cravendy Hound deposits everything on the counter, leaving scant room for cups. "Just enough to spark our creativity, aye."

Riylli Aliapoh 's ears folded back a bit at that, not sure how to respond. "I'll... Show up for the next one then... But you better keep those two away from me, got it?" She said, turning to grab whichever bottle nearby had 'Mead' written on it

Cravendy Hound: "A guy came in and showed us 'is lack of eye. Pretty gross." Cravs turns to open the cabinets behind her and places a stack of empty cups at the far end of the counter.

Riylli Aliapoh: "W...Why'd he go and do that..?" Riylli made a face of disgust at the thought. It was probably for the best that she had not been there

Rising Lotus: "Aye he did, looked super gross...though I guess Crav's asked him to show us, an' your not NOT gonna look at that if given an' opportunity right?"

Cravendy Hound: "I told 'im to! Wanted to know if it was just for show," Cravs laughs. She ducks down for a second and pulls up a set of ingredients - frozen pineapple, oranges, cherries and a bit of mint. "...I nearly died gettin' these pineapples awhile back, so. 'ere, I'll make us somethin' tasty."

Riylli Aliapoh stuck out her tongue at Rising. "No way, that's gross!" She grumbled, taking a swig of her bottle. She raised an eyebrow at Cravs' words. "...How do you almost die gettin' pineapples?"

Rising Lotus "They better be tasty if you almost bit it tryin' to get 'em. An' I suppose they could fallen on her, prick her with them pointy parts." she thinks for a few moments. "...do pineapples grow on trees? I know those hard brown things do.."

Cravendy Hound 's mouth sets in a hard line. She pointedly ignores Riylli's question and focuses her attention on juice the fruit.

Riylli Aliapoh gives Rising a worried look at Cravs' reaction, but decides to change the subject. "...Anyroad, all that aint important. We gotta figure out a plan to deal with Rot after all! So... Uh... Any suggestions..?"

Cravendy Hound: "They grow in bushes, actually."

Rising Lotus "So they ain't related to pine trees or cones at all then? Why they called that then?" considering she forgot why they were here before they started drinking, it looked like it might be a long night.

Cravendy Hound: "Well, speakin' in a general sense...we could do somethin' legal, illegal, or in between." Cravs pours a bit of pineapple and orange juice in a glass full of ice, and then dumps the rest of the ingredients in. Vodka, cherry, mint. "I....I don't know, actually? Just know the bush they grow outta doesn't look like a pine tree."

Riylli Aliapoh: "Focussss" She hissed at Rising, shooting her a glare. "Pineapples aint important right now! Aint you supposed to be the smart one outta all of us?"

Cravendy Hound: "Oy, and why ye gettin' 'ung up on the 'pine' part? What about 'apple'? Doesn't look or taste like an apple at all!"

Rising Lotus looks at Riylli for a few moments, the turning to Cravs. "... I don't know if that's a good thing, I mean.. smart enough to not do some of the dumb shit you to do I 'spose...but I guess that's jus' cause one of us has to be alive to take the other two home. Huh."

Riylli Aliapoh: "Wha-? I don't do dumb shite! You've seen my magic, I'm really smart!" She insists, immediately getting sidetracked as well.

Rising Lotus "...you're right... it doesn't taste or look like an' apple...an' I think we all only are smart in like, some very particular areas really. I mean I dunno, I never felt that smart...cept for like fishin' an' fightin'."

Cravendy Hound: "Oy, we're 'ere to talk plans, right?! So come on! Drink up, and get those juices flowin'!" Cravs pushes the bottles aside and deposits cocktails in front of Rising and Riylli.

Riylli Aliapoh eyes the drink suspiciously, but eventually gave in and replaced her mead. Her ears flickered as she tasted it, looking up to grin at Cravs. "It's good! I was worried it was gonna be all bitter like that other stuff you... Er... L-Like other drinks. In general. Y'know..."

Rising Lotus took a long drag from the drink, giving a nod of approval. "What other stuff you drinkin'? I mean I 'spose a lot of booze is bitter." she took another swig, blinking a few times afterwards. "...plannin' though...I think we ought to be careful, loanshark types aren't shy when it comes to doin' nasty things to folk they don't like."

Cravendy Hound: "Is knowin' magic a measure of smartness? Like, couldn't ye just use it on instinct? Then it'd be dumb magic." Cravs rambles as she picks up her own glass to sip on. She beams at Riylli's compliment. "Aye, can't beat a good fruity drink every now and again."

Riylli Aliapoh: "Of course magic is a measure of smartness! All the big mages are real smart folk, like that leh-vee-yur guy!" She said, before suddenly shaking her head. "Wait, no, planning dammit! I say the best way to get rid of her is by gettin' the law to lock her away, like Cravs planned. Just... think we should go about it a different way."

Rising Lotus: "I'm sure she's in the pockets of some of the Yellow Jackets though, coin is worth more than justice most the time. Used to hear 'bout it from my ma all the time growin' up. She'll weasel her way out probably."

Cravendy Hound nods to Rising's words. "Aye. The type where if ye cut off one head, two more will take its place. We definitely should avoid killin' anyone, cause that'll just make things worse."

Riylli Aliapoh glares at Cravs. "Of course were not killing anyone! Were the good guys, we don't do that kind of junk." She said, crossing her arms defiantly. "She can't be in the pockets of ALL those... 'yellow jackets' though, right? Just gotta make sure whatever we pin on her can't be covered up"

Cravendy Hound: "Lever-err...? That's the pipsqueak that was responsible for all that Crystal Brave stuff, right? Or was it...Urrre-ranger." Cravs rubs at her temples as she tries to recall. So much had happened while she wasn't 'paying attention.'

Rising Lotus "That an' we'll probably be arrested ourselves, along with what Cravs said of course!" she took another sip. "Hmm... most folks like her, place to hit where it'll hurt would be her wallet." she rubbed her chin "How many ways does she got gil comin' in?"

Cravendy Hound: "That was my main goal, actually. If people know she's sellin' stolen goods, then even if she pays off the Yellow Jackets, 'er reputation is sure to tank. And then, she won't 'ave the cash or time to mess round with Baldur."

Riylli Aliapoh takes another sip of her drink, clearly enjoying it judging by the way her ears wiggled. "...So how do we go about doin' that? Steal the stolen stuff from her? Or... Set a trap maybe..?"

Rising Lotus "Maybe get somethin' everyone will know will be stolen? Then when she tries to hock it she'd get caught?" she shrugged,  nearly draining her drink with the next sip. "Jus' need to make sure it's somethin' big...but somethin' she wouldn't recognize." she nodded a few too many times at her words, must of been a strong drink.

Cravendy Hound: "...if we steal the stolen stuff from 'er, then it'll just look like we stole it. And I don't think she'd be bold enough to try to sell somethin' that's well known."

Riylli Aliapoh: "...Then... What if we try buyin' somethin'? But set it up so the yellowjackets are there to see it happen?"

Rising Lotus shook her head "Naw, we'd never know if they'd be on her side or not..

Rising Lotus leand on elbow as she ponder, sipping up the remnants of her drink. "What... if...we trick her into stealin' from another type like her...someone more powerful?"

Cravendy Hound: "...It /could/ work. But she sells spice, so 'ow could we prove it was stolen? A bag of salt is as good as any."

Riylli Aliapoh thinks for a moment. "Well... What if it aint yellowjackets..? What if we used the wood wailers? Or the brass blades? Theres no way she'd be in the pockets of those guys, so... If we pull her out there with good enough bait..."

Cravendy Hound raises a brow at Rising's suggestion and thinks to herself. "Might blow up in our faces, but that's an interestin' idea."

Rising Lotus: "I mean that's an option, but she probably has a pretty set territory right?" she slid her glass forward towards Cravs, not so subtly wanting a refill. "It's have ta be somethin' big to bring here out here or in Thanalan."

Cravendy Hound: "Hm, well. Brass Blades ain't worth a penny, but the Wood Wailers might be stiff enough. Problem is gettin' 'er all the way out 'ere." Cravs refills Rising's cup.

Riylli Aliapoh seeing Rising do it, Riylli outstretches her cup as well for Cravs to refill. "Well, you were tryin' to get her attention with milkroot weren't you? I'm guessin' that's what that toad ooze was for at least..?"

Cravendy Hound pours Riylli a generous refill. "Aye, well...the toad ooze is supposed to be the bait. Somethin' that my friends would steal and then peddle to Rot."

Rising Lotus happily retrieves her glass and takes a sip, smacking her lips together after swallowing with a refreshed sigh. "She we still try that? I mean I 'spose we never got a chance to see what happened. Otherwise is there any other powerfull folks that we could trick her to steal from?"

Cravendy Hound: "It'd be more like, convincin' my friends to steal from someone powerful, and then hopin' Mindred buys it 'ot. Lady doesn't steal stuff directly...which means there's a risk that the blame'll end up fallin' on my friends instead."

Riylli Aliapoh noticably winced a bit as Cravs mentioned her friends. "W-What if I tried to sell it to her instead?" She speaks up suddenly. "She doesn't really know me, and everyone thinks Keepers are all criminals anyroad."

Rising Lotus grimaced at that idea. "I dunno, she did meet ya after all... an' you didn't come of as the most...knowin' 'bout business..ish." she hiccupped after getting to the end of her sentence, following it with another swig. "I 'spose if anythin' it is an' in with her..kinda..connects us an' Heartwood too though."

Cravendy Hound gives Riylli a long, hard look, and then finally shakes her head no. "Ye don't look the criminal part of ye ask me. And...I'm worried. Wouldn't we only be able to pin it on Rot if ye actually committed a crime?"

Riylli Aliapoh: "If she thinks I'm stupid, that just means she'll suspect me less!" Riylli insists, "I could easily find somethin' she'd want. I don't even gotta get it myself! Theres this little... Well... A black market I guess is what you'd call it. It get's pretty regular raids from the wailers, but everyone always ends up there again after a bit. If she's there when a raid happens, she'd get locked up for sure!"

Riylli Aliapoh: "I'm a Keeper. That makes me the 'criminal type' in most peoples eyes. Just ask Mivo"

Rising Lotus still looks a bit hesitant. "Do you think she'd go that far out Cravs? An' if this all happens, an' she does get locked away, how she gonna know that...err I mean, How is she not gonna suspect somethin'? She does know who ya are an' stuff, might send some of her lackeys after you, us, your clan."

Cravendy Hound picks up the carafe and tops of Rising's glass absentmindedly...pouring until it overfills. Somethings itching at the back of Crav's mind. "Do ye go to these black markets often? Riylli, do ye...are ye wanted?"

Cravendy Hound: "If we could get Rot to go to one of these black markets, it could just work. But I agree with Risin', it seems risky, and it could come back to bite ye Riylli."

Rising Lotus wasn't paying attention until it ran over her hand. "Hey, HEY!" she quickly reached her hand over to push Crav's hand back enough until she wasn't spilling, flicking her soaked digits in the woman's direction before sipping from the very top of her glass.

Riylli Aliapoh: "I-I do not!" She said quickly. "It's just... Before I started my adventurin' work... My clan didn't exactly have enough gil for medicine and stuff. So... We'd go sell pelts and stuff there... Gridania wouldn't let us sell with them, so we didn't really have a choice... But we never did anythin' bad! All our stuff was caught fair and square, no poaching or anything!"

Cravendy Hound: "...Oh, blast it." Cravs looks around for a towel to soak up the mess.

Riylli Aliapoh: "And if she gets caught up in a raid, theres no way she could blame that one me! We'd just... have to figure out a way to time it somehow... I'm sure someone in Heartwood must have connections, right? All we need to know is when, then we just gotta set up the deal!"

Cravendy Hound lets out a sigh. "Well, Riylli, ye sound used to dancin' round the Wailers. But if ye ever end up tossed in gaol, Risin' and I would be 'appy to pay the bail. Right?" She glances over at the other Roegadyn

Cravendy Hound: "We'll need a real good bait to lure Rot all the way to Gridania /and/ to a black market."

Rising Lotus "I 'spose it sounds like the most...thought out plan we've had all night." she shrugged, sputtering into her drink a bit at mention of paying Riylli's bail. "What? I mean, sure...long as it ain't way expensive or nothin'. How much it cost to be black market sellin'?" she cocked her head as she pondered what they should try to sell. "Well, what she like outside of her normal dealin's? Does she collect anythin'?"

Riylli Aliapoh crosses her arms. "They could never catch me." She mutters, turning away as she let the other two discuss bait

Cravendy Hound: "If the bails too expensive then we could..." Cravs punch a fist into her hand, and then cracks her knuckles. "...but, quietly."

Rising Lotus: "We'd need to pick a bit first before we go out an' steal somethin'." she glances around Crav's room. "...or maybe borrow somethin'? I'm sure we must have somethin' 'round here folks would want to get their hands on."

Riylli Aliapoh turned her head back. "H-Hey! Even if the wailers are mostly a buncha racist assholes, ya still can't do stuff like that! I said they won't catch me, the shroud is my territory remember? Even the Keeper's they got in their ranks wouldn't be as fast as someone who lives out there"

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, 'ow we gonna lure Rot to the market? Sell stuff so cheap that she 'as to go check it out? Or, maybe if we find someone she trusts, and convince 'em to bring 'er there."

Rising Lotus grumbles "We need to get somethin' she's interested in! That'll bring her in, maybe tell someone she knows 'bout it so she'll come all this way." she took a long drink, mumbling into her drink about repeating herself.

Riylli Aliapoh: "Rising's got a point. Somethin' around here should spark her interest. She sells spice you said..? I bet Luma has some of that!"

Rising Lotus: "Or maybe somethin' really out there...folks with lots of money like weird dumb things."

Cravendy Hound: "Interest is one thing, trust is another...Rot's gonna be cautious, especially outside of 'er territory." Cravs crosses her arms and leans back as she tries to rack her brain people she could pull a favor from. "...Do ye think Momori might know Rot?"

Riylli Aliapoh: "Well... She seemed a bit sketchy, but I only ever met her once or twice. You guys'd know better than me"

Cravendy Hound chuckles a little when Riylli brings up Luma. "HAh! Bakin' and usin' spice is different from sellin' it! But...ye know. Haila might 'ave somethin' cool to sell."

Rising Lotus sneered. "I don't like the idea of ownin' her any favors...but aye Haila might have somethin' she'd be interested in. Or maybe some Gobbie stuff, sure some of that weird metal junk probably is expensive."

Riylli Aliapoh: "But he'd still HAVE some! And probably some rare Golmore stuff too since he's with Haila! I bet that'd get Rot's attention for sure!"

Cravendy Hound: "I'd gladly owe a favor to Momori if it means we can get Rot to come, cause I'm still not sold on the whole 'us sellin' crap to lure Rot' front. Wouldn't random people also want to buy shit?! What if she doesn't come and we just end up makin' a profit?"

Cravendy Hound blinks at at the mention of Golmore. "H-huh?! What in the bloody 'ells is Luma and Haila gettin' into...Bah. The less I know, the better."

Riylli Aliapoh: "Well... First we just gotta find out when the next raid is comin'. Once we know that, then we can figure out a way to convince Rot to show up on that particular night. Dangle some bait in front of her she can't resist! I can make sure it don't get sold to anyone before she arrives so she gets caught red-handed"

Rising Lotus "You know how she is, you sure you want that? Probably end up.. takin' one of your limbs or somethin' after sayin' she jus' needs a hand with somethin'.." she rubs her forehead " After the other day when all that happened I jus' wouldn't trust her."

Cravendy Hound opens her mouth, about to say something to go against Rising's concern...but can't find anything to say. It was true - the lalafell was objectively shady and untrustworthy. But it was those same qualities that made her think Momori would be able to pull the strings necessary to get Rot to show up.

Cravendy Hound: ".....Yeah, well, if she takes my 'and, then I can get a cool robot one."

Rising Lotus pounds her fist on the counter. "You ain't losin' your damn hand if I can help it!" she exhaled through her nostrils sharply. "Ngh..well if we are gonna go through her...maybe I should be the one to ask. She don't know much 'bout me, don't need her usin' your reputation in Limsa against ya." she drummed her fingers on the counter while she nursed her drink.

Riylli Aliapoh raises an eyebrow, but tries to stay on task. "Well... If one of you gets Momori on board, and the other gets some exotic spice, I can focus on finding a seller at the markets we can trust. Then we just need the info on the next raid's date! Momori claimed to have ties to the alliance, so maybe she has connections in the wailers as well?"

Cravendy Hound wags a finger at Rising. "There's no point in worryin' about somethin' uncertain! Damn lalafell might not even be able to 'elp us, so...Let's start by figurin' out about the raid and gatherin' stuff to vendor. The frog ooze can be our first product. I gotta get rid of the stuff somehow."

Riylli Aliapoh grins, clearly rather pleased with how this evening had turned out. "Gimme the toad ooze, it'll be real popular at the market since it makes milkroot crazy potent, so it'd make a great bribe to get a merchant on our side!"

Rising Lotus grumbles more as she finishes up her drink. "Well if we are gonna talk to her let me know an' I'll find her an' ask her..while avoided kickin' her 'cross the room." Her face was looking a bit flushes after she finished her second (and a half with her sloppy top off from Cravs) drink.

Cravendy Hound points at a barrel in the corner with her shoulder. "Ye can pick it up whenever. Just don't open it...apparently, agin' it makes it more potent, as well as smelly."

[bottleofspilledink]

God's Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter II

It's been a day since the oven mitts were lent to her.

Eve hadn't been able to return the them, too shy to ask around for it's owner.

Once class was finished, she washed it in her kitchen sink. Half a pack of lavender detergent wasn't enough to get rid of the burnt smell that lingered on the cloth, but she had done her best.

While she chipped the hardened batter off of the soft cloth, her hand sometimes stopped to caress the tag, tracing over the small, slightly slopping lettering. She'd only realize she had stopped scrubbing them when her bunny slippers were damp with water from the still running tap, the soapy liquid spilling over the sink and in between the wooden floorboards.

Even when the oven mitts were tucked away in her nightstand, her mind would wander to thoughts of it's owner, her warm hands, her fiery hair, and her plump, pink lips.

But that was a problem for the Eve of tomorrow to deal with.

...

It's been two days since the oven mitts were lent to her.

They've sat in the front pocket of her backpack since the moment Eve deemed them dry enough, squashed against her pencil case that was filled to a near burst.

She put them in with her books after an hour, not wanting to return it smelling like pencil shavings.

For the rest of the day, her mind was bombarded with images of the smile she would receive upon returning them.

That is, of course, if she could even bring herself to do so.

...

It's been three days since the oven mitts were lent to her.

Eve thought about leaving it in the lost and found but ultimately decided against it, seeing as it wasn't lost, nor was it found.

It sat heavy in her deep skirt pocket while she ate her lunch, plush compared to the hard bench pressing at her thighs, hyperaware of its presence.

Her chicken pot pie was cold in the center and she immediately recoiled when it met her lips.

"Is the pie chilly?" Elizabeth asked, looking up from her plate.

Lilith's smile flashed through her head, the epitome of stunning.

In the past few days, the word chilly had been linked to Lilith and Lilith only. This was going to be a problem as the wind began to blow and all Eve heard in the hall was the sound of her voice, gentle but teasing.

"The center is."

Elizabeth laughed at this, a quick, cute snort through her nose. "I bet you half my cake slice that the freshmen were on lunch duty today."

Gambling, no matter how small, was against the rules. It said so in big, bold letters on page 37 of the student handbook.

They had to have fun somehow though, so this was often overlooked in favor of small and quite harmless bets.

"I bet you my juice that it was the sophomores that skipped home economics last year."

"You're on!"

They ate what parts of the food they could stomach, waiting for their other friend to join them from the line.

"Hey." Mary slid her tray next to Eve's and sat down, slicing the crusts off her tuna sandwich with the dull, school issue knives.

"What year's on kitchen duty?" Elizabeth asked, always straight to the point.

"The people who got in trouble for the fire." She bit into her sandwich. "A senior class."

"Okay then, so it's a draw."

"What's a draw?"

"We made a bet on what year made the meals because the center's cold," Eve explained.

"Wait a minute, this means they caught who started the fire, right?" Elizabeth perked up immediately at the thought of gossip. The fire was all anyone could talk about these past few days.

"Please, please, please, tell me who it was!"

"Not really..."

"No way! If they didn't catch anyone, then who's on kitchen duty?"

"According to the file, everyone who put something in the oven was held accountable because they weren't able to get a confession."

"Gimme the list of suspects," Elizabeth whispered. Mary was head of the student council and knew everything that was worthy of an official report.

"There's only five of them. Joan Amiel, Eliza Job, Paula Matthews, Gabrielle Davidson, and... Lily? Wait, that's not it," She rested her head in her hand, immaculate brows furrowing.

Makeup was also not allowed, as stated in page 34 of the same handbook. But practically all the students knew that if you were able to make it look natural enough, you'd get away with it.

"It's on the tip of my tongue, I just can't- oh! And Lilith Damien." She took a bite of her sandwich, shaking her head all the while. "Honestly, how could I forget her? She causes half the problems around here."

Eve's head shot up but she hurriedly ducked down again, hoping her friends wouldn't notice her rather dramatic movement.

"You know her, Eve?" Their eyes bore into her skeptically, far too accustomed to her demure, blink-and-you-miss-it, reactions.

"Not exactly?" She brushed her golden hair back, playing with the ends as she avoided their gaze. From what she had just heard, knowing Lilith was not the best thing.

"We ran in to each other in the courtyard when the fire alarms went off. I doubt she even remembers me." She decided not to tell them about the things that had happened, the oven mitts in her pocket, or how soft her hand was.

"That's a good thing, too! Lord knows what kind of trouble you would have gotten into, hanging around with her sort," Mary said, adamant.

Eve couldn't help but wonder if her days of snooping through the school records had let her feel like she truly knew people. Though, she knew better than to say anything, merely nodding along and sipping her juice.

The rest of lunch continued like this for her, passively humming and nodding as her only response. As silent as she was, however, her mind was buzzing with thoughts and possibilities, some more welcome than others.

By the end of the hour, Eve had a plan.

She would knock on the kitchen entrance, oven mitts already in hand. (She didn't want to waste Lilith's time.)

After handing them over, she'd apologize for taking so long, and maybe, just maybe, she'd tell her she washed them for her.

Just so she wouldn't appear to have kept them for no reason.

The conversation went on without her, the other two saying goodbye before heading to the one class they had together, not bothering to wait for Eve since they knew her free period was next.

The blonde patted her pocket one last time to make sure the oven mitts hadn't somehow disappeared and shrugged her bag on when she felt it's now familiar plush against her.

Her plan, Eve quickly realized, was easier thought out than done. Her fingers curled into a loose fist that hovered nervously over the kitchen's backdoor.

She knew what she wanted to say. Well, she thought she did anyway. The real problem for her now was how she was going to say it.

So there she was, pacing by the garbage cans and muttering incoherently to herself, trying to find the right words to sound grateful for being lent the gloves, which she was, but not creepy or annoying, which she thought she was.

This went on for quite some time, Eve completely unaware of her surroundings til she was snapped back to reality by a loud, familiar laugh.

"Eve! We meet again!" The girl said, somehow giddy and suave at the same time despite barely being able to get her words out through her giggling.

"Hi!" Eve squeaked, clinging to the cloth tighter than she had been.

Her obvious shock only served to make Lilith laugh harder, the redhead clutching her stomach and struggling for breath.

"Why are you laughing? Come on, what's so funny?" Like that day in the courtyard, Eve felt her face flush with what she thought was indignation. She ran a hand through her hair, nervous and entirely confused as to why.

"Sorry about that," The girl walked past her and tossed a garbage bags into the dumpster nearby.

"It's just," another small laugh escaped her, "the people I was cooking with were too scared to come out here. They said there was some crazy chick was talking to herself by the trash like she was on crack!"

"Really?! I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

She felt like dying, her face hotter than a stove and twice as red. Her fingers reached for her hair on instinct, twiddling with the tips, snapping some of the strands of in the process.

"Hey, it's alright! Gave me an excuse to get outta there, so I ain't complaining." She shrugged her shoulders then stretched her back, uniform rising as she did so.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the sliver of skin that appeared before her. It was gone as quick as it appeared yet the very image was now burned into her mind.

It would occupy her mind all throughout dinner. It would be all she could think about as she took her nightly shower. It would invade her mind as she lay in bed to sleep, restless and half mad because of the picture.

Though it wasn't so much of a problem now. She had something else to keep her mind busy, after all.

"How'd you find me, by the way?"

"I saw your name on the tag and I asked around."

"Oh..." She breathed, face falling for only a second. "So you know who I am?"

Her voice was laced with something akin to disappointment and hesitance. As if, in her mind, the moment Eve knew of the person she was and the things she'd done, the blonde would go running.

"Yeah, you're Lilith Damien, right?"

"Depends on who you ask." She winked, blue eyes filled with mirth and smile becoming devious.

The way she said it somewhat jokingly. Though what the joke was evaded her and she was left looking like a fool, a few slow blinks being her sole response.

"Anyways, I'm here to return these," Eve said, turning a deeper shade of pink at the wink.

Those eyes did things to her.

Whether she knew it or not, though, was something for later.

"Thank you." Lilith smiled, apple red lips a cross of amused and endeared.

Like the first meeting, their hands brushed against each other, but if Eve was honest with herself, though she rarely was, it didn't seem as accidental or as fleeting, skin lingering and heat staying for a moment longer than it had.

"Were they able to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Keep you warm."

Lilith said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but not in a way that berated her or made her seem naive and stupid, but her tone was that of care, as if the oven mitts were meant to warm her.

"They did great, you should be very proud of them," Eve giggled, cheesy humor shining through before she could stop it.

It was refreshing when Lilith laughed, not a snicker of distaste or one of pity like her friends who would cringe are her childish jokes and puns, but a sound of genuine joy and hilarity.

Eve was still getting used to the sound, lost in her own high when Lilith spoke once more.

"Did you wash them for me?"

"Uh.."

"Don't be creepy. Don't be creepy."

"Yes, actually. I had them for a while after you gave them and I didn't wanna give you a hard time scrubbing all the dried batter off after being so nice to me."

As it turns out, this was the right thing to say as the redhead gave her another dazzling smile in thanks.

The serene silence that hung between them was interrupted by three heavy knocks on the door behind them.

"Hold on, I'm in the middle of something here!" Her smile was wiped clean of her face, replaced by a deep scowl that looked so out of place on her sharp, yet stunning features.

"Lilith, get your ass back in here!" A harsh voice boomed from inside the kitchen.

"You better not be on a smoke break, taking the trash out shouldn't be taking that damn long."

"I'm not smoking! Just gimme a minute, will you, Joan?"

"If you're not in here in two minutes, I'm telling Mother Cecilia."

"Fuck you!" Her change in tone was abrupt and shocking to say the least, and Eve couldn't help but gawk at the more aggressive language.

Cursing was prohibited and anyone caught doing it would get a detention and a note home. It was on page 39, right in between bullying and, coincidentally, smoking.

"Anyway," Lilith said, turning back to her, suddenly sheepish as she rubbed her neck. "I should probably go..."

"I see what you mean now when you said it depends on who I ask."

"Yeah?" Her usual smirk was off now, cool façade cracking under the weight of Eve's words.

"Yeah."

"And... is it a bad thing?" Lilith's voice was hesitant, as if, for some reason, she cared for what the other thought of her.

"Not exactly. Flexibility is a good trait in the workforce." She said, taking a quote straight from their textbook to justify the girl's actions with something other than the fact that she had taken quite a liking to her.

All the tension left Lilith, shoulders slumping in a show of relief. The hand at her neck had fallen, dragging her unbuttoned collar with it, giving Eve a peek of her cleavage.

She would also think about that later tonight, mind alternating with the peek of skin earlier, and now, this.

"OK. I'll see you around, then?"

The blonde grinned and nodded in response. She didn't know why, but she wanted to see her again.

"Bye, Lilith."

"Bye, Eve."

With that, the girl went back into the kitchen, door unintentionally slamming shut behind her.

Eve could hardly wait for their next meeting.

And lucky for her, she wouldn't have to wait long.

...

"So?" Paula asked, not even a minute after Lilith entered the kitchen.

"So what?"

All the girls in had their eyes on her, as if waiting for their turn to asks their own questions.

"She's asking you if you dealt with the crackhead or not, dummy." Joan said, snickering, though she shut up after being elbowed by Paula.

"I'm here, aren't I? And don't call her that." She went over to the sink, quicklime washing her hands and wiping it on her worn apron. "She has a name."

"We'll call her by her name when you tell us what it is."

"Joan!" Paula hit the girl once more.

"That's not what I meant. We just wanna know who she was."

Paula took Lilith's damp hands, thumb moving in small, soothing circles.

"We're worried about you, Lil. You haven't really been with anyone since Sarah left."

"You really don't have to worry. I'm over her, I have been for months now!"

Joan sighed and sauntered over to the pair, patting the girl on the back. As much as they'd tease and bicker and squabble, they cared about each other, though their ways of showing it were unconventional to say the least.

"You sure?" She started. "I mean, it's fine if you wanna take a break from relationships and all that, but maybe it would be better for you to get out there and try dating again?"

"Date who?" Lilith went to her bag and fished out a pack of chips. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have a lot of options here."

"Me and Paula met someone at the garage concert we went to last week, I can hook you up with her if you want."

"Not happening."

"Why not?"

Lilith looked at the floor, kicking the tiled ever so slightly as she popped a chip into her mouth.

"'Cause, I don't feel like it."

"Why not?"

"I just don't."

Joan and Paula shared a knowing glance.

"Look me in the eye and say that again."

Lilith groaned, blue eyes shifting upwards before she muttered, "I don't feel like it."

"Why not?"

"I answered that already."

"Why not?" Paula said, deciding to help Joan and press on.

"'Cause..."

"'Cause...?"

Lilith frowned, sharp features turning harsher than they already were.

"I see what's going on here, Lil." Joan put her head on the girl's shoulder, neck craning. "Who's the lucky girl?"

The redhead's expression softened and she slumped onto her friend.

"The one I was talking to outside." Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. But girls like Lilith had to get used to talking in hushed voices and hurried murmurs.

Love was a dangerous thing for girls like Lilith.

"Will you tell us her name?" Paula leaned on the wall by her right, effectively sandwiching the girl.

"Eve."

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day 8

Day 8 of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Ellen Harvelle

Warnings- Classic Rock. Insult it, and face my wrath.

Prompt- “Can I call you?”

Wordcount- 1,345

             Humming the tune of AC/DC’s Girl’s Got Rhythm you served up drinks and polished glasses efficiently. Ellen’s Roadhouse saw plenty of traffic, most of which was hunters looking for a way to celebrate a success, or mourn a failure. You yourself were a well-known hunter, specifically for the kill-count record you held as the undefeated heavyweight champ of werewolf slaying, but you liked to work at Ellen’s bar when you took breaks from tracking down another fanged and furred beast. You didn’t even realize you were still humming the classic rock song as you poured a glass of whiskey for a man you hadn’t really looked at, but he did. 

            “AC/DC, huh? Didn’t take you for a fan.” The man said, voice low, smooth, and making you snap your eyes his way. “Sorry, I forget I’m even doing it.” You laughed. “Wait, if you’re on of those people who diss AC/DC, I’m going to advise you to get a drink from a different bartender.” You said seriously, eyes narrowed at the man. You took advantage of his brief surprise to give him a once-over. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and with a jawline that could cut diamonds, and bloody hell, those eyes. Too bad he hated good music. “What, you kiddin’? I mean, they’re no Led Zeppelin, but they’re a classic!” He scoffed, as though even suggesting he disliked rock offended him deeply. “That’s not a fair comparison considering Stairway to Heaven is the greatest rock song ever written, but I’ll let it slide.” You winked, the green-eyed man giving you a toothy and crooked grin. “Where the hell have you been my whole life?” Green-eyes grinned, extending a hand. “Name’s Dean.” “Y/N. So, ignoring your misguided opinion that Led Zeppelin is better than AC/DC, what else do you like?” You asked.

            You and Dean talked and laughed for the better part of three hours, swapping favourite songs and bands, and testing each other’s rock knowledge. “A ‘67 Impala? Damn. My baby’s a ‘57, Bel Air. Got the white wall tires and everything.” You shared,Dean whistling in admiration. “Sounds like a beauty. You’re an awesome chick, Y/N. Sweet ride, good taste, in music and men,” Dean winked as you rolled your eyes, “and you’re a hunter.” “A what?” You asked, deciding teasing him could be fun. Dean turned pale. “Oh shit- uh, y’know, I thought you were-” “I am. I didn’t tell my last name, did I? Y/N L/N, werewolf huntress extraordinaire.” You bowed dramatically, Dean breaking into relieved laughter. “Jesus, woman, tryin’ to give me a heart attack, or what? Really got me for a minute. I’m Dean Winchester, by the way. Started-the-apocalypse-on-accident-and-died-a-million-times Dean Winchester.” He joked. You snorted a laugh and shook your head. “Man, the stories I’ve heard about you...” You trailed off, Dean nodding his head. “Yeah, well, I can tell ya hunters tend to exaggerate.” He waved dismissively. “Oh no, you’re not escaping this one so easily. I wanna hear the real story. C’mon, Dean, I’ll even bring you whiskey on me.” You winked. Dean groaned aloud. “You play dirty, sweetheart. How am I supposed to say no to that face and free whiskey?” Dean complained.

            “Well, I’ll be damned.” You said at last, somewhat stunned by Dean’s story. “No kiddin’.” He chuckled. “Well, now that I’ve spilled my guts to you, it’s your turn. What does Y/N L/N like besides cool cars, good music- Led Zeppelin is totally better, by the way, but I won’t argue- and my favourite brand of scotch?” Dean questioned, leaning forwards with a smirk. “I had a normal childhood, actually. Started hunting when I was 20, after a werewolf got my parents. I’m an only child, so dropping out of college and starting to hunt seemed like the best way to do it, and I didn’t have a brother to talk me out of it. I met Ellen Harvelle a year later, and she took me in, taught me everything I needed to know, gave me a home.” You said, smiling at the older woman at the other end of the bar. “And I work here when I can. That’s really all there is to it.” You shrugged. “I ain’t buyin’ that for a minute, but you can tell me the rest of the story next time.” Dean said with a deadpan face. “Next time? You plannin’ on a next time, Winchester?” You asked teasingly, arching your brow. Dean leaned in with a mischievous look to his emerald green eyes. “If I say drinks are on me, do my chances go up?” He asked. “Drinks were on you either way, but you’re lucky you’re cute.” You winked. “It is one of my finest qualities. Y’know, after my superior taste in bands.” Dean shrugged cockily. You swatted his shoulder with a glare. “Keep insulting AC/DC and this fine ass is marching itself far away from you.” You threatened. Dean donned a frightened face.”I’m sorry, I swear! You wouldn’t be so cruel as to hit a man’s pride, would ya, sweetheart?” He pouted. “Way I see it, you’ve got enough pride for the both of us, but I do like free drinks, so you’re off the hook for now.” You smiled. “Thank God.” Dean sighed dramatically.

             You were busy after that, but made your way back to Dean when you could. “Hey, Winchester.” You greeted. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m actually headed out now. Got a hunt tomorrow.” Dean said apologetically. “Oh, alright. Next time you’re in town, you owe me a drink, though.” You reminded, a smile playing across Dean’s plump lips. “Will do. Before I go, could I get your number? So you know when I’m in town?” Dean asked, looking nervous, but hiding it well. You smiled softly back at him. “Sure thing, Winchester.” You agreed, his eyes widening slightly like he’d expected a different response before you punched your digits into his phone. Dean grinned back at you and pocketed his phone. 

              ��Can I call you? Just to talk, maybe convince you Zeppelin’s a better band?” Dean raised a brow, giving you a lopsided smirk that made him even more attractive. “My mind is set, but yeah, you’d better call. Now, get outta here, before one of us does something stupid.” You teased. “Like what?” “You can’t expect me to not want to kiss you when you look at me like that.” You scoff, inwardly surprised by your own boldness. Dean’s broad smile grew even brighter, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Then I guess I’m gonna have to keep looking at you like that.” He retorted, leaning in. You gave him a cocky smirk of your own, and closed the distance between you.

               The kiss was maybe a bit more passionate than was appropriate, but you blamed it on him for looking like an actual Greek God. Dean’s stubble was rough on your hands and cheeks, but you didn’t mind, and he tasted like the whiskey you’d served him, and something uniquely Dean. He wasn’t soft, per se, but he was gentle, letting you make the moves and take the lead, though it was clear he was holding himself back. Just when you tilted your head slightly, your logical brain caught up with you, and you realized you were making out in a crowded bar the woman you saw as a surrogate mother owned with a man you’d met that night. Pulling away quickly, you placed a hand on Dean’s heaving chest. “I would very much like to continue this, but the bar is not the best place, and I, unfortunately, am not off of work.” You explained with a sigh. “Gives me more reason to come back sooner.” Dean winked, looking just as flustered as you did. “Make it real soon, Dean.” “Will do, sweetheart.” Dean gave you a last kiss and a flirty smile, and walked out of the Roadhouse.

             “Not that I’m not supportive of your datin’ life, but maybe not in my bar, hon.” “Sorry, Ellen. It’s his fault for bein’ so damn attractive.” “Mhm. That’s what they all say.”

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting​

[angelic-holland]

Too Late - Peter Parker x Ned Leeds

Summary: The five times Ned almost says ‘I love you’ and the one time he does. 

Word Count: 4.7k words

Warnings: major character death, description of violence and injuries

A/N: I have not seen Far From Home, this is not a spoiler for Far From Home, this is my own fictional work. This is my first time writing for Peter and Ned so let me know what you think! 

Italics are Ned’s thoughts, bold italics are Peter’s thoughts, bold are text messages

***

Ned is humming the tune of his favorite song, sitting in Peter’s room as he builds the Death Star. He’s practically finished with it, he and Peter have been working on it for a little bit. He was waiting for Peter to get home from his Stark internship. If it was anyone else with the Stark internship Ned would’ve been jealous, he wanted to meet Tony Stark so bad, but it was Peter. And Peter was his best friend, he was genuinely happy for Peter when he told him about the internship. He didn’t even notice the sound of the window creaking open, it wasn’t until he saw a red and blue masked man crawling on Peter’s ceiling, that he realized he wasn’t alone. He froze, Spiderman? The masked man, Spiderman, pulls off his mask and Ned's jaw drops. Peter? 

Peter quietly uses his web shooter to close the door and he crouches down on the ground. He stands and turns, pausing as he sees Ned sitting on his bed. Ned doesn’t even realize he’s dropped the Death Star, completely ruining it, until Aunt May calls out “what was that?”

Peter turns, his voice raising an octave in pure panic, “Nothing, Nothing.”

Ned’s world seemed to be collapsing in on itself, Peter, his best friend, was Spiderman? The guy he’d be embarrassed to admit he’d seen hours of footage of on YouTube, was his best friend?

“You’re, THE Spiderman, from YouTube.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Peter insists, pressing the small spider in the middle of his chest, his suit falling off his body. 

“You were on the ceiling,” Ned says, a shaky finger pointing to the ceiling. 

“No I wasn’t!” Peter starts, why the fuck was he trying to deny something Ned saw with his own two eyes? 

“Ned what’re you doing in my room?” Peter’s voice is rising in volume, he’s not angry, no, he could never be angry at Ned, more worried. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that he was Spiderman, not even Aunt May knew, how would his nosy best friend with a little bit of a big mouth react? 

“May let me in! You said we were gonna finish the Death Star!”

“You can’t just bust into my room-,” Peter starts and the door opens, Aunt May walking in on Ned, still shocked, and Peter, in only his boxers. 

There was smoke coming from the kitchen and she was laughing, “that turkey meatloaf recipe is a disaster, let’s go to dinner. Thai? Ned, you want Thai?”

Ned was too busy thinking about that one video he saw of Spiderman, of Peter, stopping a car from crashing into a woman, with his bare hands. Okay, they weren’t bare they had the gloves or whatever they were called from his Spiderman suit but still, how much force, how much power did he stop? Woah, his best friend was strong. 

Ned snaps back to reality, “Yes.”

“No, he’s got a thing,” Peter interrupts, glancing at him. 

“A thing to do after,” he says and he’s sure he’s got a huge stupid smile but he can’t stop thinking about how his best friend is Spiderman? How insane is that?

“Okay, maybe put on some clothes,” May says, smiling before closing the door.

Peter grabs a shirt and Ned points at the door, “she doesn’t know?!”

He felt like Aunt May knew everything, from when Peter didn’t do as well as he hoped on an assignment in school, even if he was lying, to when they snuck out to Coney Island instead of going to band practice. 

“Nobody knows,” Peter talks in a hurried whisper, “well Mr. Stark knows because he made my suit but that’s it!” He rushes to pull the sweater over his head.

Tony Stark? 

“Tony Stark made you that?” Ned says in awe, pointing at the suit crumpled up on the floor.

“Are you an avenger?” He gasps.

“Yeah basically,” Peter says, stretching the truth a little.

“Woah-,” Ned starts and Peter rushes over to him.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, you gotta keep it a secret.”

“Secret? Why?” Ned wonders, everyone knew that Tony Stark was Iron Man, that Steve Rogers was Captain America, what harm would it be if people knew Peter was Spiderman?

“Because you know how she’s like! If she finds out people try and kill me every single night she’s not gonna let me do this anymore,” Peter rushes out, practically in one breath, “come on Ned, please.”

And Ned could never say no to Peter, not when he asks to borrow his notes after a long night after the Stark Internship, which he now knew was spent fighting bad guys. But wait, did he just say people try to kill him every night? Ned’s stomach dropped at the thought of Peter getting hurt, Peter in danger. He didn’t want to think of his friend like that.

“Okay, Okay, Okay, Okay, I’ll level with you,” Ned starts, where was he going with this? “I don’t think I can keep this a secret, this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Peter,” he says in the same rushed tone as Peter. Logically he knew that May would flip out, or at least be worried about Peter, exponentially more than she already does. But come on, Peter knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and now he finds out his best friend is the superhero he watches on YouTube? The superhero that, he would never admit out loud, he always wondered what he looked like under the red mask, was he cute? Did his personality match up with the badassery he shows off on the streets of Queens every night?

“Ned, May cannot know, I cannot do that to her right now. You know? I mean everything that’s happened to her? I- please,” his voice cracks a little and Ned freezes. 

“Okay,” Ned wouldn’t hurt Peter, he couldn’t, and accidentally telling someone, revealing this secret that Peter didn’t tell him but was thrust upon him, was a huge violation of his trust. 

“Just swear it to me,” Peter’s brown eyes stare into Ned’s, looking for something, anything that will show him that Ned wouldn’t tell everyone the second they part. 

There’s something in Ned’s eyes, Ned isn’t quite sure what it is himself and he knows Peter won’t know. 

Was it a budding admiration? Not for Spiderman, sure, Spiderman was exciting and saved people and Ned could talk about him for ages but for Peter. His best friend, someone who could tell the world he’s Spiderman, who could get the fame, the fans, everything that seemed to come with being a superhero, but who didn’t. Why? Because Peter didn’t want to add any more stress into Aunt May’s plate. 

“Okay, I swear,” Ned says, and Peter turns, running his hands through his hair, something he always did when he was nervous, which resulted in his hair always looking funny. Fixing it and ruffling it back to normal may or may not have been Ned’s favorite thing.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Can I try the suit on?” What are you saying Ned? 

“No.”

“How does it work? Is it magnets? How does it shoot the strings?”

“I’m gonna tell you about this at school tomorrow,” Peter says, gently grabbing Ned’s shoulder and leading him out of his room. 

“Great,” Ned says as Peter opens the doors, “Wait, how do you do this and the Stark internship?”

For someone as bright as Ned, he could be a little dumb sometimes, especially when he finds out his best friend is a freaking superhero. 

Peter frowns, eyebrows furrowed at Ned, really? “This is the Stark internship.”

“Oohhh,” Ned says as it clicks in his brain. 

“Just get outta here dude,” Peter says as he pushes Ned out his bedroom door and shuts it behind him. 

“Thanks Aunt May, for the offer for dinner, super important stuff back at home,” Ned managed to get out as he all but runs out of the apartment. The entire walk back he was texting Peter questions.

You fought with them in Germany? The avengers?

How do you stay awake in school if you’re out all night fighting bad guys?

Should I bring you coffee tomorrow?

And the most meaningful text, the text that meant so much more than what it said, sat in his drafts. throughout the night as Ned laid awake, watching Spiderman videos, but now picturing Peter doing all those things. 

Just because you’re Spiderman doesn’t mean I will treat you differently. 

Nope, delete that Ned, that’s not true. 

He watches as Spiderman, Peter, had helped an older woman across the street in one video. Peter would do that. Everything Spiderman did was something Peter would do. Because Peter is selfless, standing up for people who have nobody to stand up for them. Like if Flash or someone is being an asshole to Ned, the normally quiet and shy Peter will tell them to screw off because Ned is too scared to say anything. 

Peter Parker and Spiderman are one

No, that’s stupid, Peter is well aware of this.

You’ll always be Peter Parker to me.

And he didn’t send it, just let it sit there on his phone while his finger hovered over the blue arrow. 

He fell asleep with his phone in his hand, sprawled out on the bed. He never meant to press send, he still thought those words were silly, of course Peter was still Peter. What was Ned trying to say? 

So when he woke up with a few text messages from Peter he thought nothing of it until he scrolled up and saw his message. 

Shit. Did he really accidentally press send in his sleep?

Peter: and you’ll always be Ned Leeds to me. 

***

Ned was scared, and he had every right to be. The Chituari core in his pocket detonated, the elevator’s ceiling looked like it would either drop on them, or drop them however many feet to the bottom of the monument. 

“We’re very safe in here,” The security guard says. 

Ned knows better. He might not really know what this glowing purple thing can do, but he knows it’s basically a bomb. 

He takes a few breaths, attempting to steady himself in reality. 

Where’s Peter? Peter can save us. 

The top of the elevator flips open and they start helping everyone out. 

The elevator is creaking and swaying and making horrible noises. 

Flash goes next, with the trophy. The elevator creaks and moves a little harder as he’s hoisted up. 

As Flash gets to safety the whole elevator drops, Ned is terrified, screaming as he clings to the sides. 

Please don’t let me die please don’t let me die. 

He’s lost all hope until he hears a familiar thwp, and the elevator isn’t falling anymore.  

He looks up and sees Spiderman, Peter, falling as the elevator drops again. 

Ned is sure he looks like an idiot with his jaw dropped open like this as Spiderman, Peter, webs to something above them and is upside down on the ceiling, holding the elevator in place. 

He looks to Ned first, and Ned feels the most relief he’s felt since he passed a calculus exam he thought he failed.

Peter pauses but looks at Mr. Harrington and then at Liz.

And then he breaks out this horrible accent that in other situations would’ve made Ned laugh but today he was just in awe of his friend. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Ned shouts and he doesn’t even realize he’s moving until Peter shouts back.

“Hey hey hey, big guy quit moving around!”

“Sorry sir, so sorry!” Ned freezes. 

Peter slowly tugs at his web and brings the elevator up more and more until they are level with a floor and can get out. 

Peter is hoping, praying that Ned gets out first, he’s not sure how much longer his webbing and stance will last and he can’t even think about his best friend getting hurt.

Ned rushes out of the elevator and watches as Mr. Harrington gets out, then Liz starts to. 

The elevator decides to break even more, Liz falling before Peter saves her, grabbing her with his web and helping her back up to the floor. 

As Peter hangs upside down, his eyes move across the students, pausing quickly on Ned before looking back at Liz. 

“Everyone good? All right,” he says in that accent. And then he’s falling. Ned’s heart almost falls out of his chest before he hears Peter shout “I’m good!” From down below.

That night in their hotel room Ned is lying there in his pajamas thinking about what would’ve happened if Peter wasn’t there to save them, to save him. He didn’t want to think about it. Because he knew Peter would always be there to save him. And he wanted to thank Peter, for saving him, for saving the rest of the decathlon team. But ‘thank you’ wasn’t enough. He couldn’t say thank you to the person who risked his own life to save theirs. He looks over and sees Peters chest slowly rising and falling, his eyes closed. 

“Peter?” Ned whispers, loud enough for him to hear and respond if he was awake. Ned sort of hoped he wasn’t. 

There was no answer. He’s asleep. Good.

“I-, l,” No Ned, this isn’t the time. Your adrenaline is too high, you’re not in the right headspace. Don’t say it.

“You’re my hero.”

Peter was exhausted, the second they got back he showered and was lying on his bed, thinking about the events from the day. 

He had closed his eyes and was trying to sleep. His mind wouldn’t stop racing back to the elevator. To Ned’s terrified screams. But Ned was right here, he was safe, and he was okay, he was going to be okay. 

“Peter?” Ned asks and Peter doesn’t respond, hoping Ned will let him sleep. His thoughts and emotions are too much right now to talk, and everything hurt. His body, his mind, everything.

“I-, I-,” Ned starts. 

What was he going to say? Peter’s mind was screaming, tell me, tell me Ned.

Three words, come on, three words were all he was waiting for. 

“You’re my hero.”

Peter figures those three words were enough for now.

****

Peter had given up all hope that Ned felt anything towards him, even after finding out he was Spiderman, Ned didn’t suddenly confess any feelings towards Peter. 

So Peter asked Liz to homecoming, because Ned doesn’t like boys, and they’re best friends. He didn’t want to share what he feels, how he’s felt for years, if it would end in an awkward ‘oh that’s nice but I don’t think about you like that, I don’t think about boys like that.’ So Peter pushed down any pining for Ned and was determined to have a good time at Homecoming with Liz. That didn’t end up happening. 

That night, after he fought Liz’s dad after he left him for the police, he didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t go home, to Aunt May, he wasn’t sure how Tony would react. So he made his way to Ned’s place, climbing up the side of the building in the darkness, ignoring the pain shooting through every part of his body. The window to his bedroom was open slightly and the light was on, so he crawled in, collapsing on the floor once he did so.

“Peter, oh my god are you okay?” Ned says, rushing up from his bed. 

“Fine, Ned, totally fine,” Peter says, breath coming out in quick pants. 

“No you’re not, here, lay down on my bed, are you okay?”

“Sure,” Peter laughs, before hissing in pain. Even laughing hurt. 

“Here, let me help you,” Ned says, guiding Peter to lay on his bed. 

“How can I, what do you need?”

You, Ned, I need you. But those were words Peter would never say.

“Just need to sleep,” Peter says.

“Peter are you sure? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I’ll heal soon enough, advanced healing and stuff, just need to sleep.”

“Okay, here, you gotta get outta these,” Ned says, grabbing his Midtown sweatshirt, it was too big for Peter, but it would do for now. 

Peter groans and sits up, pulling off the basically pajamas that were torn and covered in dirt. 

Ned turns around as Peter changes. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll sleep on the couch, but if you need me, just shout my name okay?” Ned says as Peter tosses his torn suit on the ground.

“Ned?”

“Yes?”

“Stay?” Peter’s voice was low, he looked so small and broken, his body covered in bruises. 

Ned gasped and it took everything in his being not to cry. He hated seeing Peter like this knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to help.

“I’m fine,” Peter said, seeing the worry in Ned’s eyes. 

“Okay, yeah,” Ned says and he sits down on the floor next to his bed.

“No, stay,” Peter insists, moving to make room for Ned on the bed.

“oh.”

“Please?”

“Just don’t, don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Ned says as he climbs under his covers. 

“I won’t, promise,” Peter says as his eyes grow tired.

“I-, I-,” Ned says, feeling the warmth radiating off of Peter’s body.

“What?” Peter whispers.

Say it Ned, you can say it, I know you can. Everything in Ned’s mind is screaming, tell him, tell him how you feel because every time you don’t there’s a chance you won’t be able to. And the thought that Peter could die before Ned says anything was enough to bring tears to Ned’s eyes. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

God damn it. 

***

Ned was scared, probably more scared than the night Peter came back to his room injured after homecoming. He saw the footage of Spiderman, Peter, getting beamed up into space, he ran, and Ned doesn’t run, he ran to Peter’s apartment, Aunt May was on the couch, staring at the TV. 

“Ned, Peter, he’s, he’s out there. I keep calling him, he doesn’t have his phone but I keep calling him,” May laughs weakly, tears falling down her face as Ned sits next to her.

“I’m scared,” Ned says, watching the footage of the aliens invading New York from earlier.

“We’re going to be okay, Pete’s going to be okay,” Aunt May says. Ned loses count how many times she says this throughout the next few hours. 

It all happens very fast, Ned doesn’t know what’s happening, why is Aunt May turning to dust? Is that dust? What’s happening?

“Peter?” Ned asks, why he asked for someone who wasn’t there? He couldn’t tell you.

Maybe he was scared that the world was ending and Peter wasn’t there with him. To save him, to just sit and watch the world end with him, if that was inevitable. He just knew that he was probably dying and Peter wasn’t there by his side.

***

The snap was reversed, Peter lost his mentor and it was the worst day in his entire life. He fought and fought and he thought they had won, they defeated Thanos. But at what cost? 

Apparently, losing the world’s best defender.

He spent the next few weeks at Tony and Pepper’s lakehouse, crying himself to sleep every night. Sometimes he’d have nightmares, about Ned being snapped away, about Tony dying in front of him. 

Sometimes he’d wake up screaming or crying and Aunt May or Morgan would come running in, Aunt May would wake him up with a tap on the shoulder, telling him that everything would be alright. Then he’d call Ned and talk to him, not about the snap, not about the battle, but about random things until he fell asleep. 

Usually it was about Star Wars. Peter would always fall asleep to the sound of Ned’s voice, wishing he was beside him.

Once Aunt May and him felt he was okay, after the funeral, after he was able to say goodbye to Tony, he planned on going back to school. 

He could practically see Ned’s excitement through the phone when he told him. And it made him smile, smile through the dull pain of losing Tony, smile through the pain of having to go back to school and live his life. 

Ned always made Peter smile.

He was looking through his folded clothes on his bed, it was stupid, he thought, contemplating what to wear. Who would care? He sighs, feeling tears well in his eyes, turning and seeing a blue midtown sweatshirt, not his own, Ned’s from ages ago.

He tugged it on and sighed. It still smelled like Ned, a comforting smell, reminding him of home. 

So when he saw Ned in the middle of the crowd of students rushing through to get to homeroom, his feet stopped dragging and he walked with purpose, the first time in weeks. 

Ned watches as Peter walks towards him, Ned has no idea what to say, Peter’s back, Peter is safe and he isn’t just a voice on the phone. 

His arm moves like it’s got a mind of its own, Peter’s arm moving as well, they start doing their handshake, Peter pauses and pulls Ned into a hug. He sighs, if they could stay like this forever, maybe Ned could take all of the hurt and pain out of Peter’s mind, he could focus on the feeling of Ned’s arms wrapped around him, of Ned’s breath against his neck as they hold each other tight. In this moment they were the only people in the whole world.

“I-,” 

Say it Ned, please. It’s what Peter needs, he needs to hear Ned say he loves him, that he also felt like his entire world was gone these past few weeks, that he wanted nothing more than to go on dates or cuddle or whatever young teens did when they were- 

Peter couldn’t even finish his thought, the pain of thinking Ned would never say it too much.

“I missed you.”

Three words. Not the ones he wanted to hear, again, but they were enough for now. The weight of the words, the implication of them was enough. 

****

Peter came to his apartment one night after patrol, a few months after he went back to school, he was itching to get back out there, to protect the neighborhood. The bad guy, someone jacking cars across the neighborhood had gotten the upper hand on Peter before he was able to apprehend him. As a result, he had a busted lip and bruises littering his chest. He didn’t want May to see him like this so he called and told her he was spending the night at Ned’s, nothing unusual, Pete and Ned have been having sleepovers for as long as the two of them could remember. 

Aunt May continues to worry about Peter after the snap after he lost Mr. Stark, she worries that he’ll get hurt, even after all he’s been through, he’s been to space and fought the universe’s worst villain, but fighting bank robbers in Queens still drove her crazy. 

When Pete arrived he pushed Ned’s window open the rest of the way, he typically left it unlocked and slightly open which worried Peter because Ned there are bad guys and I don’t want you getting hurt. Ned just laughed and told him that Spiderman would protect him.  

Spiderman, Peter would protect him. 

“Pete, oh my god are you alright?” Ned asks, scrabbling to stand up. A lego set was lying on the ground, Darth Vadar’s castle, now long forgotten.

“I’m, I’m fine,” Peter smiles, blood trickling down his chin.

“Here, sit down, lemme get the first aid kit,” Ned insists, and Peter all but collapses on Ned’s bed, his spidersuit loose on his body, mask next to him. 

Ned rushes to his closet, pulling out the rather large first aid kit he bought when he first found out Peter was Spiderman.

“I can heal faster than most people, I don’t really need first aid.”

“Just in case, you know, it’s never a bad idea to have it on hand.”

And Peter agreed, partially because he knew it would make Ned feel better, partially because Ned was right, you never know.

He pulls out a few antiseptic wipes to clean the blood from Pete’s chin, who winces and bats his hand away.

“Stay still,” Ned insists, and Peter grumbles but drops his hands in defeat. 

Ned continues to clean the blood off of Peter, being careful as he wiped it from his bottom lip.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” Ned sighs, relieved. Anytime Peter was on patrol Ned stayed up, he built and rebuilt legos to distract himself, sometimes the fear that Pete would get hurt was too much, and he’d cry, but he’d never tell Pete that. Because Peter was strong, he was Spiderman for crying out loud, he’d think Ned was lame if he was crying over the mere idea of him getting hurt. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Peter asks, voice a whisper, he doesn’t look at Ned’s eyes as Ned throws out the antiseptic wipes and sits down next to him. 

“Of course,” Ned says, “you’re always welcome here.”

Peter knows that, he just hates feeling like a burden, ever since Ned found out he’s Spiderman, anytime Pete got hurt Ned would rush to help him, and Peter was grateful, he’d forever be grateful that his best friend was there to pick up his broken parts, but he wishes he didn’t have to. 

“You mean too much to me to get hurt like this,” Ned whispers as he sits down next to Peter. He really wanted to say I love you too much to see you hurt like this. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’re just our friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

“Okay,” Peter laughs, curling up at Ned’s side, “thank you Ned, for being here for me.” 

Peter didn’t want to say that, sure he meant it but he wanted to say something else so much more. He just wishes he had the same courage he had fighting bad guys to admit he loves his best friend. 

***

“Ned! Ned, Ned, Ned,” Peter shouts as he swings his way to his friend. 

“Pete,” Ned gasps our, something was crushing him, he thinks it’s part of a building. But he doesn’t feel any pain. He doesn’t feel anything actually. 

Peter flips over some wreckage and crouches down to Ned. 

“Hold on, I’m going to get you out, just, just wait, take a deep breath for me okay?” Peter says, hands gripping the support beam crushing Ned’s legs.

“It’s okay,” Ned whispers, he’s lying to himself, but mostly to Peter. 

“No, no it’s not, need to get you to a hospital, you’ve probably lost a lot of blood,” Peter says before pushing the support beam off of Ned. 

“I’m fine,” Ned says, a few tears slipping past his eyes. This isn’t how Spiderman, Peter, was supposed to save him. It was supposed to be something close to harmless, like in a stupid 1950s romance film, the hero would sweep the love interest off their feet after saving them from a car accident. Ned wasn’t supposed to not feel his body, gasping for air, every breath he takes scared it would be his last. 

“Ned,” Peter whispers, as he throws the support beam to the side. His hands shaking as they attempt to pick him up.

“Stop, Peter, it’s okay, you’re here, you’re here,” Ned repeats, his brain was foggy, but at least he could focus on Peter. He was crying, or maybe Ned himself was crying, or they both were. Ned wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of much anymore, practically nothing but three words.

“Ned,” Peter whispers, hand resting on his arm.

“I love you,” Ned says as he feels himself slowly slip out of consciousness. He’s not sure if it’s consciousness he’s slipping out of, or if he’s dying. And he’s holding on, holding on for dear life because oh god Pete please just say it back. 

“I love you too Ned.”

He’s gone, Peter knows this, it doesn’t stop him from doing CPR for what seemed like hours, before collapsing over Ned’s lifeless body, sobbing until he can’t cry anymore, now just shaking.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Peter whispers.

“Peter, he’s gone,” he hears Nick Fury say from behind him. He doesn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you Ned, I’m sorry I couldn’t be your hero.”

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Hoping for Home Ch 5(Part 1) ~ “Rise Up”

Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans. Catch up here (ya know ya wanna). Big thanks to @ritachacha and @ao719 for helping me out with this one.

Song for this chapter: “Rise Up” - Andra Day

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me

Tags: @fullbeaumonty @ritachacha@speedyoperarascalparty@cocomaxley@leelee10898@itsstillnotwhatyouthink@choiceswreckedme @indiacater@drakesensworld @carabeth@daniv2278 @cosigottahavefaith @gibbles82 @innerpostmentality @blackcoffee85@perfectprofessorherokid @darley1101 @jovialyouthmusic@liamxs-world@thequeenofcronuts @blznbaby@stopforamoment @zilch3382@wannabemc2 @jlouise88  @lodberg

     “This would look stunning on you.” Hana mused, plucking a dress from the boutique rack to show to Emma. It was a white chiffon, a-line dress; floor length with a lace overlay and long,lace sleeves.

     “They're all so beautiful. I never imagined I'd have so many to choose from.” Emma beamed. She took the hanger from her surrogate aunt and disappeared into the dressing stall.

    “You're going to need one too, Mack.” The countess said softly.

   “I know, but I want Emma to choose hers first. I don't wanna pick something to clash with hers on her big debut.”

    Just then Libby stepped out of her stall wearing the signature Duchess's dress. It had been almost seventeen years since she'd worn the frock, but the local dressmaker had done a little bit of fitting a few days prior and the work was exquisite.

   “It fits you like a glove.” Hana told her grinning from ear to ear.

   “You look fabulous! I've always wanted to see the Valtorian Duchess's house dress. I love the bold colors.” McKenzie lamented taking in the bright red and orange garment. There was gold trimming everywhere and elaborate gold embroidery along the bodice. Just below that was a blue ombre pattern that complimented the vibrant colors surrounding it perfectly. The gown boasted a sweetheart bust with a sheer illusion neckline, a shimmery Phoenix emblazoned across it.

   “The matching cape is very lovely, your Grace.” the young brunette said sincerely.

    Libby gave her a brief curtsy just as Emma stepped back into the room.

   The Duchess's lips parted to remark, but no words escaped her. Instead she reached up and covered her mouth with her hands, in awe of the young lady that had taken the place of her little girl.

    “Em! You look amazing!!” McKenzie squealed launching herself towards her new friend and grasping her hands. The two teens bounced with excitement.

   Wordlessly Libby crossed the room to the accessory counter reaching into one of the drawers and then another. She stepped over to her daughter and held up a long, wide crimson ribbon, adding it as a sash just below the breast of Emma's dress.

  “Crimson is our house color.” she explained, her voice all but broken. “And our sigil is the Phoenix. A mighty bird that is always reborn, no matter what happens to it.”

   She wrapped a gold chain with a jeweled phoenix charm around her daughter's neck and clasped it.

   “'Ever rising,’ right?” Emma asked as she fingered the trinket.

    “You’ve got it, kiddo.” Libby said with a sigh, placing her hands on Emma's shoulder and turning her to face the mirror. “You are a vision, Emmy-Lou.”

      After McKenzie had changed, the women headed to Will's estate room.

    “We're just about done here.” Mark said as he opened the door. He placed a hand at Hana's hip, kissing her gently before he stepped aside to let the ladies in.

   In the center of the room stood the young Lord of Valtoria in a black tailored suit. He cast his eyes over his shoulder to look at his mother who was once again stunned into silence.

   “Drake and Uncle Mark said I had to wear the red. What do you think?” He asked smoothing his hands over the deep crimson vest he wore.

    “I think...Will you are the most handsome young man I have ever seen.” Libby told him reaching out to adjust his tie.

    “Well, are you two ready?” Abel asked his eyes darting between the twins.

    Will buttoned his blazer and grabbed his sister's hand, giving it a squeeze which she returned.

    “I am now.” he smiled at her.

     Just outside the ballroom doors Libby turned to Drake, brushing off his suit jacket.

    “I wanted to ask you if you would escort me in. After all these years, I'm a little embarrassed to be announced alone in my own estate.”  she admitted without meeting his eyes. She was still brushing imaginary lint from his suit, so Drake reached down capturing her nervous hands in his, holding them still as he caught her gaze.

   “I've stood by you so far, you think I'd let you do the hardest part alone?”

  She shook her head with a smile.

  “You know Maxwell and Li are-”

   “Inside.” She exhaled slowly. “I know.”

    Drake nodded, placing one of her hands in the crook of his arm. “Let's knock em dead then.”

  Libby squared her shoulders and held her head high offering a gentle nod to the herald as she and Drake stepped through the doors.

     “Elizabeth Scott, Duchess of Valtoria, escorted by Sir Drake Walker, Guardian of the Realm.”

     Liam whipped his head around, his jaw dropping as he watched his best friend enter the room with Libby on his arm.

    “I guess Libby has more than one secret up her sleeve, doesn't she?” Olivia remarked leaning into her husband.

    “I, I don't understand. Drake is escorting her? How did he…?Why wouldn't he tell me he'd been in contact with her?” The King tried and Liv patted his arm.

   “Darling I'm sure Drake had his reasons. Let's not jump the gun.” She ran her polished nails against his fists that he hadn't even realized were tightening.

        “They're all staring.” Libby whispered through her toothy grin.

     “Uh huh, so just wave.” Drake told her.

  The room began to spin. Even back when balls like this were a more normal occurrence in her life, Libby had never quite gotten used to having all eyes on her.

   She and her friend made their way to the dais, Drake taking her hand and guiding her as she stepped onto the raised platform. The room was a sea of people and the duchess felt as if she were drowning, her heart racing in her chest; but she never faltered, her head was still raised high and outwardly she was grace personified.

   The waters of the room seemed to part as she stared out into them and there, across the room, she saw him.

    Maxwell stood near the back with one hand jammed in the pocket of his heather gray trousers, the other held a champagne flute. Libby couldn't tear her gaze from him, though she tried. As if by some sort of prompting he looked up at her, and even at such a distance she could see the spark behind his eyes, the one she'd fallen in love with over a decade ago. Solemnly, he raised his glass to her, bowing his head before tipping the fine crystal to his lips.

    Libby's breath caught, but she managed to return the gesture, the room continuing to spin as all eyes focused once again on the doors.

         “Lady Emma Louise Scott and Lord William James Scott, heirs to Valtoria.” the herald announced.

     The double doors swung open once more revealing Emma and Will as they strode, arm in arm, into the room.

    Liam's jaw hit the floor as he immediately began scanning the room. He finally found Maxwell and they locked eyes, both men in a state of perplexity.

   “Well they aren't babies at all. They're-.”

   “Not now, Liv.” Liam interrupted. He watched Maxwell swallow the rest of his champagne and slam the flute down so hard he could scarcely believe it didn't shatter. Maxwell turned quickly and in no more than two long strides he exited the ballroom.

   “Excuse me, dear. I need to find Max.” He told his wife, who nodded still trying to hide her own shock.

    Liam found Maxwell in the hallway, headed for the front door.

   “Maxwell, wait. Stop! Let's talk about this.” He set his pace to a slow jog until he caught up to his old friend, grabbing the man by his elbow.

    “What is there to talk about, Liam? Clearly they're your kids! That's the only way their age can make any sense. They're teenagers. Not babies. Libby was your girl all those years ago, so unless they're younger than they appear…. Congratulations, Your Majesty. Looks like you finally have your heir...and a spare.”

   “You don't know that. It only takes one time, Maxwell. One night in a hotel in Las Vegas. Don't you think we owe her a chance to explain?” Liam tried to reason.

  “Owe her?! I'm sorry, Li, but neither of us owe her shit. That's the way I feel about it. I'm sorry but I can't be here.” He ripped his arm from the King's grasp still headed for the door. His steps were slower this time and Liam knew he had planted the seeds of doubt.

   “Wait just a goddamned minute, Beaumont. Both of you should really hear her out.” Drake's voice came, as smooth and as even as ever. Liam's eyes narrowed and both he and Maxwell whirled around to face him.

“HA!” Maxwell exclaimed. “Oh yeah. That's rich coming from you, Walker. You disappear to the States for two years and come home with Libby on your arm! Are you screwing her now too?”

   “That's outta line, Max, and you know it.” Drake barked.

   “Actually, he makes a good point, Drake. Sex lives aside, you knew about this. Whatever is going on here, you knew.” Liam piped up.

   “Look, I found Libby totally by happenstance. I walked into a coffee shop a month and a half ago and there she was. I was just as surprised as you two are now when I saw her twins.”

��  “Definitely not something that Liam or Olivia or I would want to know.” Maxwell seethed.

   “Indeed. Did the idea of calling any of us to let us know you'd found her even occur to you? Drake, why would you keep this hidden from us?” Liam asked.

    Drake looked Maxwell square in the eye as he repeated words the Lord of Ramsford had once said to him.

   “It wasn't my secret to tell.”

    Maxwell ran a hand down his face.

   “Yeah, fuck you, Walker.” He spat.

   “Maxwell, please. I know you must be reeling right now, but try and calm down.”

   “It isn't what you guys think, okay? She was...she was scared. She didn't wanna end up like one of those women on the Maury show.” Drake explained.

   “The Maury show?” Liam inquired and Drake sighed.

   “It's an American talk sh- look it's not important. She was worried about making you two jackasses look bad, alright? She didn't know what else to do so she just….stayed gone.”

  Liam crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in thought.

  “Well it's my belief that gone is where she should have stayed. I'm out of here.”

   Once more Maxwell turned towards the door, and again Liam grabbed him.

   “Let's not barrel out of here without thinking. Max, I know how you must feel but-.”

   “Stop saying that to me! You keep saying you know how I feel but you're full of shit, Liam! I was IN  love with her, alright? You were in love with the idea of her. Of what she represented.” Maxwell shouted, every vein in his next poking out as his face reddened to a shade that neither of the other men present had ever seen on him before. There were tears welled in the corners of his eyes, although Liam wasn't sure if they were from anger or sadness.

    Drake closed the distance between himself and his friends, pulling Maxwell into a tight embrace. The broken man tried to resist the gesture at first, but Drake held fast and finally Maxwell relented. He wrapped his arms around Drake and allowed his heart rate to slow down, matching his friend's steady rhythm.

   “I can't. I just can't. After everything…”

    “You won't be alone, brother. Drake and I will be with you.” Liam reassured him.

    Maxwell pulled away from Drake and licked his lips, reluctantly nodding as his friends ushered him back into the ballroom.

       Liam scanned the room for his wife while Drake and Maxwell wandered towards the bar.  Finally his eyes landed on the queen, his heart stopping when he found her engrossed in conversation with the Duke and Duchess of Ramsford and Libby. He swallowed hard and made his way over to them.

    “Your Majesty.” Libby greeted him dipping into a low, graceful curtsey.

    “Oh I'm so glad you've found us, My King.” Olivia smirked, noticing Liam's clandestinely sweaty palms right away.   

    “I was just reminding the Duchess that it is tradition that the Head of the house share the opening waltz with her monarch.”

    He knew she was playing games now. Olivia loved to press buttons and her hand resting on her now popped hip told him that she was enjoying the idea of he and Libby being forced together just a little too much.

  “Of course, My Queen. Duchess, may I have this dance?”

     Libby took Liam's outstretched hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. The musicians took notice that the Lady of the House was on the floor and began to play.

   “It's so nice to see you in good health, Libby.” He said through slightly gritted teeth.

  “And you as well my King.”

    He could tell that she was beyond nervous, her voice cracking slightly just as it had when she had first come to court for his social season. However Liam wanted answers so he cut straight to the point.

   “Your children are beautiful, by the way. They're how old exactly?”

   Libby beamed, unable to hide the pride she felt for her children despite the circumstances.

  “They will be sixteen next week.” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she finished.

  “I see. Tell me, do you think that Maxwell and I do not know how to calculate birth dates? Or were you simply hoping we wouldn't show up?”

   “You need to talk to her!” Bertrand whispered harshly his lips barely moving so as not to cause a scene.

  “You don't think I know that, B? I'm... I'm trying.” Maxwell told his brother.

  “If you were trying you would be over there waiting for their waltz to finish. How is she to know from across the room that you wish to speak with her?”

   Maxwell rolled his eyes. He knew that Bertrand was right, as usual, but he couldn't get his feet to move from the spot in which he'd planted them. He knocked back the bottom of the whiskey Drake had gotten him, then reached for the older Beaumont's gin and tonic which sat on the table beside them. He finished that too, sucking his teeth as he winced at the harsh taste.

   “That was mine.” Bertrand said, as if that meant anything at all to Maxwell.

   “Take one for the team, B.” He said clapping his brother on the shoulder and walking towards Libby and Liam.

   He pushed past other dancers with little to no regard, finally coming to the perfect place beside the couple he was looking for.

   As the music swelled Liam twirled his partner, but instead of finding the arms of a waiting dancer Libby crashed into Maxwell's broad chest.

  “Oh, I'm sorry! Forgive me it's been a long time since I've-Maxwell?”

  He raised his brows at her rocking on his feet, hands jammed into his pockets. They stood awkwardly a moment, Libby gawking at the man as if he were a Martian. Finally, Maxwell grabbed her hand, his other arm finding its place at her hip and he began the waltz.

   They danced in silence for a few measures. He lifted his arm and twirled her elegantly beneath it and when she returned to him, he leaned into her ear.

   “Mighty brave of you to show back up here like this.”

   “Maxwell, I'm so sorry….”

   He threw his head back as he let out a hollow laugh.

  “You're sorry? Oh, well that makes up for everything! Why didn't you lead with that, Little Blossom?”

   Libby looked up into Maxwell's eyes as she tucked her lips into her mouth, her cheeks flushing. Her mind was racing, stomach in her throat. Even after all the years that had passed she was still finding it hard to breathe standing so close to him.

  “This is the part where I ask you if they're mine or not, right? Ask you if they're Liam's? Maybe they belong to some other guy completely.-the one you ran to when you left?”

   “There was no other guy.” Libby's face contorted in a mix of shock and confusion. “Maxwell, come on. You know me better than that. I would nev-.”

   “If there's one thing I am certain of, it's that I don't know you at all, Libby.”

    Maxwell stepped back, turning away from her and disappearing back into the crowd.

   Libby twisted her fingers together as she watched him walk away, biting her bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

[jpat82]

Hidden Feelings

This is my entry for @hollandroos for her Sophia’s 15 Thousand Writing Challenge.

Word count: 1815

Pairing: Steve x Reader (I could remember if it was Steve or Bucky when I sent in the ask I hope that’s okay.)

Summary: You’ve been dating Bucky for a bit but have never gotten over Steve, even though all you ever were was a friend. However that all changes one night at a charity Party.

    You walked around the party, your arm linked in with Bucky's. The deep emerald dress fitting you perfectly, gently sweeping lightly across the floor as you walked, it was sleeveless and had a plunging back line. It was a black tie event Tony had decided to host, helping bring in extra revenue for a local charity. Who knew people would pay good money to meet the avengers.

     The night had started as a train wreck, training till a little to late and had to be in rush to get ready. You had thrown your hair up half way after a quick shower but it still looked good and your make up was barely there but it gave you a fresh faced look. You had been greeting guest after guest, keeping Bucky close to you so your own anxiety wouldn't spike. 

     He had been so sweet, every now and then making sure you were okay, asking you if you needed a breather or a drink. He was amazing, and sweet, and truth be told maybe to prefect for you. Sure he had his ups and downs like most people, and he had a past but didn't everyone. Had you told him you would rather have stayed back at the compound he would of insisted on staying with you. And as much as you cared for him, it wasn't him that you hoped to see.

     It felt like a kick in your gut, Bucky had told you on more then one occasion how lucky he was to have met you and that he cared deeply for you. No, scratch that last part, hours ago he told you that he loved you, it had slipped and it had hung heavy in the air. He covered by saying that if you weren't ready to say that, it was okay, and he apologized for saying it. But you still saw that tiny bit of sadness in his eye when you didn't say it back.

    How could you? You cared about Bucky, and you knew you were lucky but someone else held your heart. And that man was currently walking around with someone else on his arm, someone completely the opposite of you. You caught sight of the two of them and it felt like world tipped on it's axis. The air was suctioned from the building and the room felt all to warm, making you want to run.

    "Bucky, I'm going to step outside for a bit." You smiled at him.

    "Want me to come with you, doll?" He asked, looking away from the man he was talking to.

    "No, you two keep talking, I just want some cool air." You responded as he gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

     You glided through the crowd, slipping out the glass doors where the white linens billowed lightly. The night sky above you twinkled with white specks of far off planets, and the balcony was void of any people. You stepped up to the railing and gently placed your hands on the cold metal and looked down at the courtyard beyond. The smell of fresh roses from below gently wafting up through the gentle breeze.

    "Y/n?" His soft voice questioned and your heart began to thud heavy in your chest. You took a deep calming breath, closing your eyes before turning to face Steve.

    "Hi." You smiled, hoping it didn't look as fake as it felt.

    "Haven't seen ya around in a while. You missed training." He smiled, it was one of those that could light a room. If he only knew.

    "I've taken to training later in the day, one on with Bucky or Sam." You told him, leaning back slightly on the railing.

    "That's good, they're both good. How have you been?" He asked walking over and standing next you, leaning forward on the railing. You looked in at the party, people talking, smiling, light hearted conversations everywhere, except here. It was awkward and you both knew it.

    "Steve, I can't do this." You told him, starting to walk away from him but he snagged your elbow forcing you to turn and look at him. You could get lost in those blues and would be perfectly fine, except you couldn't.

    "We need to talk about it." He said softly. "We still have to work together, see each other, your dating my best friend. We have to be able to talk and not have whatever this is, stop that."

    "I don't think there is anything to talk about." You told him, feeling your chest tighten. "You made everything clear to me."

     "Y/n." He sighed as you tried to pull away. You bit down on your lip, closing your eyes for a moment to try and get a hold over yourself.

    "Do you know hard this is?" You asked finally looking back at him, your eyes stinging as you fought to hold back the tears.

     "Yes, I do." He replied softly as he let you go. You walked to the door without ever giving him a second glance. It broke him a bit to watch you wipe your eyes before returning to Bucky's side. He crossed his arms as he watched you laugh at something his friend said, wishing that it was him that had made you laugh instead.

     He hated these events, always had, and he didn't want to go but he knew you would be here. Against his better judgement he came, seeing you brought everything back. You asking him to a movie, just a simple request one that held so many possibilities. He knew you had a thing for him and he thought that it would be wiser not to since he was the 'Captain' of the team.

    Steve even explained why he couldn't and wouldn't date you as politely as he could. Truth was he was a coward, and he knew it. He panicked when you asked and after that moment he had lost you. You changed every routine you had in place so you didn't see him, and it hurt that he lost whatever friendship that been that. Lost every could of been had he had the balls.

     And know you were with Bucky, he should be happy but he wasn't. He stood outside, the wind gently rustling through his hair, as the stars shone over head. His eyes following you as you moved around the room, his own date somewhere in the sea of people.

    "I'm with her and I still don't want to admit I want you." He said to himself quietly, watching as you walked away toward the exit, linked in with Bucky's arm.

You gave once last glance over your shoulder, watching as Steve’s date walked out to the balcony. Sighing you fell in line with your boyfriend, the doors to elevator cab rolled open and you stepped in with him. You saw your reflections stare back at you as the doors closed, Bucky’s eyes trained on you, a sadness to his eye as he looked you over.

“Doll?” His voice was soft, too soft, he took a heavy breath and looked down to the ground. “You should go to him.”

“What?” You turned to face him, Bucky bit onto his bottom lip staring at the floor for a few moments before those navy eyes lifted and met yours.

“Sweetheart, being with you reminded me that love can still happen, even for someone like me. I know you love Steve, I knew before I even asked you out.” He stated, taking a step up to you, wrapping his arms around. You could feel your heart break, knowing that he knew it broke you further and you could feel the warm tear slowly roll down your cheek. “You need to go to him.”

“He doesn’t want me.” You choked out, burying your face his shoulder.

“Doll.” Bucky sighed, releasing you and bringing his hands up to your face forcing you to look up at him. Bucky slid his thumb across your cheek and wiped the tear away. “None of that, trust me, I’ve known that punk his whole life. He can say one thing and say it till he’s blue in the face, but I assure you what he said was a bold face lie.”

“He.. Steve said that..” you sobbed, trying to get control over yourself and failing.

“What he said and what he wants are two totally different things. Trust me.” Bucky said as the cab rolled to a stop, the doors dinging as they rolled open. Bucky pulled you out with him, your heels echoed as you stopped in front him. “Thank you.”

“For what? Leading you on?” You shook your head, looking down at the marbled floor.

“No, allowing me to feel something I didn’t think I’d ever get to feel.” Bucky leaned in and gave your forehead a brief kiss, he took a step back and gave your hand a gentle squeeze before walking away and out the front door.

You walked over to the bench next to the wall, and slowly sank down, resting your head in your hands. You wanted the tears to stop, you didn’t have a reason to cry, you knew you should of stayed home. Though eventually it would of come down this, you told yourself.

“Y/n?” You heard Steve’s voice, quickly you wiped the tears away and stood turning away from him.

“What Steve?” You snapped.

“Why are you crying?” He asked walking up close enough you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Cause I fuck everything up.” You replied, wanting to walk away but you had no where to go.

“Then that makes two of us.” He replied quietly, you looked over your shoulder at him, brows pinching together in confusion. “I broke it off with her, I can’t date her. I was an idiot when I turned you down, I panicked.”

“Steve?” You questioned turning to face him completely as he rambled, running his hands through his hair.

“And now, I’ve lost my chance with you.” He stated, stepping and turning away from you, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Steve, Bucky broke up with me cause he knew I was in love you.” You told him, Steve whipped around to face you, mouth slightly open. “He knew the whole time, and I don’t know why he wanted to keep dating me the way he did but after tonight he, I don’t know. He said you lied when you told me no, what you said and what you want are two different things.”

“That jerk.” Steve chuckled, looking at the floor as he slowly walked over to you. “Normally I wouldn’t ask a girl out so soon after she got outta a relationship but... wanna go catch a movie?”

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[admin-cock-creations]

A Change in Direction

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Fandom: A Hat in Time Pairing: The Conductor / F!Reader Summary: Stranded in a town full of birds where you’re the only human, it doesn’t seem like you’ve got much a chance at things going well for you. A local movie studio, however, changes your life for the better. Length: 5,137 words Warnings: N/A Other Locations: AO3

You still had no idea how you’d ended up here, though you could definitely recall when you woke for the first time and found the worried faces of numerous birds leaning over you. Most appeared to be owls, but one was a rather eccentric looking penguin with large sunglasses and an afro. He was pressing either a cold wing or a damp rag to your forehead when your eyes fluttered open, and once he noticed you were awake he had spoken in a boisterous tone.

“Darling!~ Are you alright? You took quite the stumble there!”

That made you pass out again.

The next time you woke you were in a bedroom, and for just a moment you were sure you were home and it had all been some weird dream. But then you noticed the room wasn’t your own and as you threw your legs off the side of the bed some arguing voices outside began to come closer. The only door to the windowless room was shoved open and the afro-sporting penguin from earlier walked in with a new figure by his side. Honestly, you had no idea what sort of bird the fluffy figure was, or if it was even a bird at all. Then, after a moment of the three of you looking at once another, the yellow one turned to the penguin and shouted in a clearly Scottish accent.

“Ye buffoon! Yer didnae tell me it was a lass faintin’ in the reception!”

Hard to believe that was the first ever interaction you had with your new boss, or rather, bosses.

Yes, once you found there was no returning to where you’d originally come from – not that you could remember it anyway – it was decided you’d have to stay and make a life in a town full of birds. You spent the first few weeks doing odd jobs around the town, periodically running into both the birds from the studio you now knew as DJ Grooves and the Conductor. Grooves was certainly the more open and friendly of the pair, not the say the Conductor wasn’t kind to you, it was just far more likely for the platform wearing penguin to find his way to your basic apartment, strike you up on a conversation of how your week was going and offer any assistance he could. That fact alone is why you were so surprised when on one evening you found his yellow partner at your door, instead, with the offer of an intern position at the studio.

Considering all you’d been doing for the past week was throwing your back out by wiping down cafe tables, you eagerly accepted the job. At least if you threw your back on a movie set it would be a more interesting story.

The following Tuesday you found yourself bustling about Dead Bird Studio, clipboard in hand and assisting DJ Grooves with production of his newest film. You’d come to learn the specific film tastes for each of the filmmakers over the short time you had been in town, and this newest genre was quite a bold step for Grooves to try. He was much more of a comedy and musical sort of bird, while his partner was the one better known for his action and murder mysteries. Though, considering you were just an intern, you really felt you had no place to speak on the director’s film choices.

A few days into the filming process, you had unfortunately been left alone in the studio for an evening, reviewing what shoddy film work they’d captured to that point and writing down every timestamp where there was some sort of error. Yawning and setting aside your now drained third cup of coffee, you glanced over your clipboard. You were on your third round of the film out of the recommended five, and things weren’t looking great so far.

18 scenes that needed scrapped. 32 boom mic shots. 74 actors out of place. 192 unintelligible and/or completely butchered lines.

You were starting to see why the Conductor was the more revered director in town. And speaking of the devil…

“I thought everyone had buggered off for the night, ye still burning the midnight oil, lass?”

Turning to look behind you, and unintentionally drawing a harsh crack from your back, you faced the Conductor from where he peeked in through the doorway. He must’ve taken his jacket off earlier in the day because it appeared he’d been in the process of putting it back on before spotting you on his way out, with the buttons still undone and his crisp white shirt and silver accented vest catching the light from the many screens in the room.

You nodded at his question and glanced over your clipboard once more, still new enough an intern to not want to risk accidentally offending either the filmmakers and lose the only good thing you had going for your life right now.

“Yes, Mr. Conductor. Mr. Grooves put me on film review before I leave for the night.” Glancing at a clock on the far wall, you winced internally at the time. Was it really that late? “I thought a few more crew members were still here but I suppose it is far too late to expect that.”

The man’s mouth seemed to purse as he took a small step into the room, arms folding over his chest and head tilting to look at the screens you had been watching. After a moment, he scoffed and shook his head a bit.

“Cannae believe DJ peck neck would leave an intern on film review. At least he could have given yer a second set of eyes!”

It was clear he saw how tired you were but you quickly blinked a few times and straightened your posture, hoping to look a little more awake.

“I’m quite alright by myself! I mean, I know everyone is so busy and I’m only an intern, I can take some of the load off everyone else’s backs.”

It was true. You worked your ass off through the day and throughout the filming process, but even then you were nowhere near as busy as the actual film workers. They couldn’t be expected to overwork themselves, otherwise filming would be interrupted. You’d had intern jobs before, granted none in the movie-making industry, but each time your job mostly consisted of making the load easier of the more important people. Whether you had been brainwashed into believing this was how being an intern was supposed to go or not, the Conductor seemed to disagree.

“Yer done enough for today. I can see those circles under ye eyes, and considerin’ ye certainly are no owl I think it’s time yer head in for the day.”

“But, sir, what about– ”

“Aye, don’t ye worry about ol’ Grooves. He isnae yer only boss, and if he has a word to say about it next time he sees ye just send him me way! Come along then, lassie! I can walk ye to yer apartment.”

Blinking slowly, you watched the bird man walk back out into the studio, hearing the distinct sound of doors being locked up and lights being shut off as you turned back to the wall of screens before you, clipboard still in hand. Could you afford to leave your work early? Would the Conductor really stick up for you if DJ Grooves had something harsh to say in the morning?

“Are ye comin’ lass?”

You glanced down to your clipboard, looking over the long list of timestamps and mistakes, listening to the hum of the screens for a few seconds before calling back.

“Coming, sir!”

The town had gone to sleep for the night, with only the pounding music from the club district giving any signs of life for several blocks. It had clearly rained recently as the cobblestones were still listening with puddles and a cool, crisp air brought goosebumps to your arms. Twas the downside of being a featherless human, you supposed. With no feathers to keep you warm and a very limited wardrobe you were used to walking through the cold to get back home some days. Though you certainly weren’t used to having company.

Beside you, the Conductor has his hands shoved in his pockets, rustling for a moment before pulling out what appeared to be a matchbox and a partly smoked cigar. You couldn’t help but watch in a mix of curiosity and confusion as he held the cigar between those pointed teeth and struck a match to life, the small flame bringing warm shades to his bright feathers as he lit up his preferred smoke. Had he always smoked cigars? You hadn’t spent much time working for him so perhaps he only did it in privacy, which would make sense as to why this was the first time you were seeing him do it.

As you watched the bird shove a hand back in his pocket and enjoy his smoke, what you didn’t realize was that he was watching you as well, and he spoke to you in an almost gentle tone as he held his cigar between his fingers and let the smoke roll from his mouth.

“Yer shiverin’, giriie. Ye that cold?”

Feeling a rush of warmth come to your face at your boss calling you out, you quickly looked back to the ground in front of your feet, doing your best to keep your shivering at bay with your arms folded over your chest.

“I-I’m fine, I swear! My apartment isn’t that far and it’s not that cold out so I’ll survive.”

Though you couldn’t see the way the Conductor's face scrunched up in a mix of thought and annoyance, you could almost feel it from the way he hummed in his throat. He didn’t say anything, however, and you expected him to leave it at that. What you weren’t expecting was for a warm jacket to be draped over your shoulders a moment later, and you definitely weren’t expecting to look over and find your boss with slightly ruffled feathers.

Reaching up to touch the collar of the warm jacket, your lips parted to retort but the owner was quick to beat you to it.

“That outta keep ye warm ‘til we get there, aye? Yer donae have the insulation like the rest of us, and if Grooves found out I walked ye home and let ye catch cold I’d nae hear the end of it!”

Another wave of heat found your face as you stared in soft wonderment at your boss. Was he truly such a gentleman, or was he merely keeping the studio's most active intern from getting ill? Those questions tumbled back and forth in your mind for a few moments until you noticed something you hadn’t before.

Now that his jacket was off you were given a view of the attire usually hidden beneath, but what intrigued you more than his fashion sense was his feathers… and just how fluffed they’d become. The Conductor was rather fluffy bird… thing… to begin with, but now, with his extra layer of warmth gone, it seemed he’d begun to fluff up slightly to keep himself warm. His ears and the smaller tufts on either side of his face were a little bigger, and there was some noticeable plumage peeking out from the one undone button on the collar his shirt. You knew birds ruffled their feathers for warmth, but in a town surrounded by the creatures, not once did it strike you that they would do such a thing.

“Thank you, sir. It’s very kind of you.”

The bird next to you let out a bit of a laugh before giving you an amused tone.

“Yer donae have to call me Mister and Sir all the time, lassie! Aye, I may be yer boss but I am nae a man for all them titles. Just call me Conductor, no need for all the professional mumbo jumbo.”

His bluntness took you by surprise. Never had you worked for a boss quite like the Conductor before, and you still weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed you’d have a little more time to think about it in the privacy of your own home though, as the bird pointed up towards an apartment complex, cigar between his talons.

“This is ye building, right? I’ll walk ye to the door, make sure ye get there nice and safe.”

Nodding silently, you keyed the pair of you into the apartment building, walking through the flickering lounge light and into the elevator before pressing the button for the fourth floor. Thankfully it seemed like the elevator was in working order today, with not even a flicker of the lights on your way up. Upon exiting, your small one-room apartment was the first to the right, so upon stepping out and before reaching to unlock your door, you began to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, but before you could get it off entirely the conductor was holding his hand up and shaking his head gently.

“But s- Conductor, won’t you need this?”

“Nah, lass, ye can hold on to it a while longer. I hear there’s supposed to be a nip in the air tomorrow morning and we can’t have yer gettin’ cold on the walk to the studio, aye? I’ve got more than one suit, and I’m nae expectin’ ye to keep it forever.”

With his cigar still clenched between his teeth, the yellow bird gave you a smile and nodded his head a bit before walking back to the elevator, leaving you standing in front of your door with his jacket and a strange feeling in your chest.

It was quite the feat on your part to manage sneaking into the studio the following morning without anyone noticing the fact that you were wearing you boss’ jacket. You were tempted to immediately go to his office and leave it there, but you decided that would look a bit suspicious and kept it neatly folded inside your messenger bag until a better time arose. Until then, you continued to rush about and work until you dropped.

Luckily, you weren’t left with another late job that day, and as you were packing up you realized you still had the Conductor’s jacket among your things. Keeping the folded article pressed to your chest, you made sure no one was out in the halls before making your way to the opposite end of the studio where the man’s office was. As you got deeper into his area of the studio, you could hear the hustle and bustle of some owls doing late night work, but with a few sneaky maneuvers on your part you managed to slip past undetected and made it to your boss’ office.

“Mr. Conductor? It’s me, may I come in?” You called inside with a gentle knock. There was a low grumble you took as permission, but you still opened the door slowly as if bracing for the worst.

Behind the door was an office you weren’t expecting. A desk made of some dark wood and stained a lovely hue of red sat in the center of the room, old movie posters of the director’s previous accomplishments hung in frames along the walls, a few lamps gave a warm light to the space and a few filing cabinets were placed about and filled with what you imagined to be movie scripts. At the desk, head in one hand and a glass of some alcohol in the other, was the Conductor himself. With the absence of his normal jacket he’d donned a different suit today, one that was a deep mahogany with a dark undershirt and tie. His current jacket was tossed aside and draped sadly on a corner of the expansive desk among the piles of crumpled papers. It was clear the man had been struggling with some sort of creative block and you couldn’t help but purse your lips. Looking back into the studio behind you, a moment passed before you closed the door behind you once again, placing aside your messenger bag and his folded jacket to take a seat in the closest free chair.

Once you sat down it seemed the bird finally noticed you and his head lifted from staring at the paper in front of him. A sort of crooked grin and weak chuckle was given to you as he forced himself to straighten up enough to slump back into his chair instead of hunch over the desk.

“Aye, lass, there ye are. I was – hic – I was wonderin’ if I’d see per pretty mug today. How are… how are ye? Is that DJ peck neck treatin’ yer well on set?”

Ignoring the strange airy feeling in your chest after being called pretty, you scooted closer to the desk in front of you and spoke softly to the drunken man.

“I’m treated fairly, he hasn’t yelled too harshly at me, yet. Thank you for averting what I’m sure would have been a nasty shouting session for leaving work early last night.”

“it was nothin’ lassie! I cannae let that peck neck pick on ye just because yer an intern. Intern yer may be, but ye do a smashin’ good job! Aye… with such a committed worker like ye I bet ol’ peck neck’s movie is going to win the annual bird movie awards this year.”

Looking away a bit, you fidgeted with a nearby pen on the edge of the desk.

“Actually… Mr. Grooves doesn’t take my advice on how his film could be improved. I’ve caught every mistake in the recording and acting and he won’t correct them. I’m not sure if he just refuses to listen to an intern or only cares about the dumb stardom stuff.”

Your confession seemed to catch the attention of the more serious director, leaning forward in his chair and setting aside in mostly empty whiskey glass now.

“That so, eh? Well I’ve seen yer workin’ on those shoddy recordings of his, and if he refuses to accept your criticism and advice then he’s just some – hic – some peck neck gone crazy on bird seed! I would give anything to have an intern like you on my crew right about now. Aye, poor Wesley cannae get a fresh film idea and the owls are no help.”

So that’s why he was moping around with a drink. He had lost his film-making groove and needed some inspiration. Or maybe… he needed an outside opinion.

“Well,”you started slowly, catching the little lift of his ear tufts as you got his attention, “considering how Mr. Grooves won’t take my advice, perhaps I could offer it to you and your crew, instead.”

You could see how the Conductor’s ear tufts wiggled a bit, whether it was out of thought or excitement you weren’t sure, but his mouth pursed for a moment and he tapped his talons on the desk a few time before turned to face you once more.

“If DJ peck neck cannae appreciate what ye bring to the table, then I certainly can. Startin’ tomorrow morning yer on my crew, and you willnae be catchin’ me ignorin’ that valuable input of yours.”

“No, no no! It’s all wrong! Are any of ye peck necks actually actors?!”

Several weeks had passed since you began work with the Conductor on his movie. It had taken both of you long enough to come up with a script, something rather new for his usual tastes but still in the ballpark, and you’d managed to fill almost every role with good actors. Now there was only one slot left, the most important one, and the one that was giving you the most trouble.

You were still searching for someone to fill the role of the main female lead and love interest.

When the drunken bird had told you in his private moment of weakness that he would never ignore your advice and criticism, he truly meant it, and since then you’d been something akin to his personal assistant. Sometimes he swore you knew more about film-making than he did with the quality tips you gave. You had even been the one to suggest the love interest in the story as a fresh new element to his usual tales, and you had been a great deal of help in helping him along the way. With this in mind, he pressed his hands over his face a mumbled to his side where you stood, clipboard in hand.

“Lassie, could ye please show these buffoons what we’re looking for in this character? It seems not a single owl can perform without havin’ their hands held.”

Nodding firmly, you placed aside the items you held and snatched up a spare script, making your way onto the auditioning stage and into the spotlight. You had written almost every line for this character so you barely had to glance at the printed words as you cleared your throat and began to act. You were nowhere near the professional level of acting, but you still knew how to put on a show.

Your voice was strong, your movement fluid, and every bird on set seemed impressed by the talent of a simple intern as you took upon the role of Lady Cynthia.

“I wanted to tell you that wherever I am, whatever happens, I’ll always think of you, and the time we spent together, as my happiest time. I’d do it all over again, if I had the choice. No regrets.”

Pulling his hands away from his face, the Conductor couldn’t prevent his jaw from dropping as he raised his head and watched you perform. Was it just the spotlight giving you that radiant glow or was he just imagining things? The passion and palatable emotion in every word you breathed made his feathers ruffle. Leaning forward in his seat, he stared on in pure awe as you continued the brief scene.

“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

As you finished, the Conductor felt his heart soar, barely hearing the clap of every other bird on the set. You, meanwhile, smiled shyly and felt a rush of heat flood your face, taking a small bow before beginning to walk off the stage. You’d made it halfway across and were out of the bright limelight when the director barked out once more.

“Alright! That’s a wrap for today! We’ve got our choice for Lady Cynthia!”

You stopped in place on stage, giving your boss an odd look and arching a brow before he focused his attention on you, a wide grin on his face and his ear tufts wiggling a bit out of glee.

“Lassie, we’re gonna make ye a star! Yer the only one who can so flawlessly capture Miss Cynthia’s character!”

Dropping the script you held to the ground, the papers scattered about your feet and your entire face went red as you stammered to your boss.

“M-me?!”

By now you were two weeks into filming and the Conductor was as pleased as punch at how progress was going. With the sudden decision to make you, a human woman the role of Lady Cynthia you had spent a number of days in the costume department, being poked and prodded for every outfit you'd be required to wear at some point in the film.

Most of your scenes so far hadn’t been major, but today was your first real chance to shine. Today you were due to film the first romantic moment between Lady Cynthia and the main protagonist, and truthfully, you were nervous. You’d been spending the last hour or so pacing back and forth in the caboose of the Owl Express, the Conductor’s pride and joy and where most of the day’s scenes would be taking place. It was still at the moment, with the crew preparing for filming and the actors prepping, but you were too nervous to even think of glancing over your lines right now.

Your personal script sat atop a crate inside the car, and you currently leaning against the railing in the back. The sun was just beginning to set, painting the scene for the romance shot, and you couldn’t help but give a heavy sigh and take off the large hat you were to wear, allowing the gentle breeze to caress your face.

From behind you, someone cleared you throat, and as you turned you were met with the director, his jacket left behind somewhere and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. Considering you were planning to film in the desert, you could only image how hot he was under those feathers, you were ready to melt in the over-the-top dress you were practically sewn into. Something about the Conductor’s body language made it seem like he was also nervous, and out of reflex you asked, “Is something on your mind, Conductor?”

With a soft hum, the bird shook his head, reaching up to scratch at the feathers on the back of his neck.

“Nae donae worry about me, lass, I’m perfectly fine. Yer look like the one who’s nervous, though.”

Sighing again, you ran a hand through your hair, looking out over the desert where the crew was working to load all the equipment onto the train.

“I just… I’ve never acted before, especially not in a high budget movie as the main love interest. I won’t lie, I’m nervous about today’s scene. What if I mess it up? What if I’m not emotionally convincing? I’ve got so many worries and I don’t want to risk looking at the script and making my nerves worse.”

The pair of you were silent for a few moments until you heard the rustling of paper and turned your attention back to your boss. The Conductor had picked up your copy of the script and flipped through until he stopped about two-thirds of the way in, where you could only assume the aforementioned romance scene was. You could see him scanning over the scene before he looked up to you, keeping the script in one hand and taking a step forward. You had no chance to question what he was doing before he took your hand in his, pressing it to his chest, directly over his heart, and you immediately knew just as he began to speak.

“Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. You deserve the world, and I know I can’t give that to ye. So I’ll give ye the next best thing: my world.”

Your chest swelled and you felt yourself get a little weak in the knees as the Conductor put on his best acting and took the place of the main protagonist and Lady Cynthia’s love interest, fully intending to act this scene out with you to calm your worries. So, taking a small breath, you recalled your own lines and replied easily to him.

“I have no need for such grand gestures, darling. Your hand holding mine is enough, this is how the galaxies collide. All I desire is to be near you, to gaze upon your face and know that my heart undeniably belongs to you.”

The Conductor gave a dreamy sigh and lifted your hand from his chest to the side of his face, where you cupped his cheek in your hand and felt your heart flutter. Those feathers were so soft, and as you stroked your thumb over the warmth of his face you watched as he grew fluffier than usual. Was he feeling unwell? There was no way your acting was drawing such a reaction out of him.

“I crossed a thousand leagues of sand and sky to come to ye, and lost the best part of me along the way. Donae tell me to leave.”

“Never, my love. Never leave.”

Abruptly standing, the Conductor swept you up in his arms, dipping you low as the protagonist was meant to do in the scene and you knew where this was headed.

“Yer are so amazingly…wonderfully…beautifully…awesomely…most definitely the most precious of all precious things.”

There must’ve been stars in your eyes as you draped your arms around the bird’s neck, not daring to pull yourself closer and break the scene as you watched him slowly begin to lean in. There was to be a kiss after he spoke that line, there was no way he was actually going to kiss you. He was a dedicated actor, you had watched the films he’d stared in himself, but if he was actually going to do this during an impromptu practice run then it was a whole other level of commitment.

But as you watched him draw close, part of you realized you wanted this.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you were fully prepared to kiss your boss before you heard some frustrated voices nearby, and both of you whipped your heads over to the source. A small crowd of owls had gathered with a filming camera and they had apparently been filming your little interaction with the director, which sent a wave of heat through your face and to the very tips of your ears. The Conductor quickly pulled you back to your feet, catching yourself on the railing so you wouldn’t collapse out of embarrassment as the furious fluff ball poofed up even more out of embarrassment and snapped at his crew.

“ What the peck do ye peck necks think yer doing?! Get ye tails in gear and load those cameras onto me Owl Express and that film better be destroyed in the next minute! ”

Watching the director storm off, you fanned yourself with your large costume hat, deciding that the impromptu practice had indeed helped. If you just pictured the owl plating the main character as the Conductor, you may just be able to give a flawless performance. And maybe, if you had the confidence, you’d ask him after filming today if he could help you practice the true romance scene at the end of the movie. Your acting was probably good enough to make yourself seem nervous again. But then again, after what the Conductor just tried to pull, perhaps you didn’t need to act.

[squiddybeifong]

A Page Turner

Fun fact: if you go to @ravensflockofrobins and search Bette’s name, there’s one (1) post at the time I’m posting this. And it’s not even a shippy thing rip this drowning paper boat

--

She didn’t know what compelled her to take a quick vacation, exactly.

Maybe it was the lack of crime. Maybe it was the disgustingly scorching heat that summer brought. Maybe it was that she needed a break before she accidentally zapped the TV and the horrid romance movie that Starfire was playing.

Whatever the reason, Raven made up her mind. opened her eyes and moved Silkie off her lap, teleporting to her room. She considered her options and started a particular spell, one that she’d admittedly used many times before. One of the few (very few, incredibly miniscule) perks of being Trigon’s daughter: interdimensional travel.

Sliding through the dimensions as easily as flipping pages of a book, a particular timeline called to her. It smelled of bookstores and crumpled daisies and Raven blinked as she stepped into this particular universe.

The Golden Age, she reminded herself, taking in the not-so-golden scenery around her. The world around her was the sheer definition of nostalgia: the colors muted in the most charming of ways, the whimsy of the backgrounds (she simply took the buildings fading into space at the edges as a perk), the blocked off rectangles where additions would be written.

Surely more of a comic book feel than the animated life she knew, but it felt right.

What didn’t feel right was the lack of yellow. Sure, some of the stores had signs with bold letters the color of pineapple flesh. And, yeah, the lemon paint job on some of the cars was impressive. But aside from the sprinkling of pollen from the just barely blooming flowers, Golden Age Gotham wasn’t the most golden of scenes.

Honestly, with such a heavy title this ‘golden age’ was falling flat.

Raven pulled her cloak around herself and sunk into the shadows, casually setting out to explore. She avoided the areas she already knew and delved into the thick of the city, grateful that their emotions didn’t press on her as strongly as her own dimension’s did. Food vendors, students clamoring on the sidewalks as they got the most of that wonderful time between school being let out and their parents calling them in for dinner, even some rats who scurried out from the sewers, all but sunbathing as they dragged dropped pieces of food and cigarette buds back to their hovels.

Not too different from the Gotham Raven knew, but she still stayed hidden, watching all that she could. A pout involuntarily curled her lips at the sight of her favorite pretzel food-truck, replaced with a dual newspaper and ‘shoe polishing on the go!’ stand.

There was a simultaneous groan from all the kids as a clock rang, their disappointment mingling with the adults’ sighs of relief.

Raven felt the muted mix of their emotions, her lips quirking up at how similar people were in their complaints, dimensionally different or not: “Man I can’t wait to get home,” a mustached man breathed as he observed his freshly polished loafers and tucked the afternoon paper under his arm; “What? You’re betting on the Yankees? Get outta here, ya freakin’ jag!” an incredulous teen cried at his friend, shoving his shoulder in horrified disbelief; “I swear, Debbie, all he ever says is ‘Aspic’s lookin’ good as you.’ Not tasty, or even pretty, but good! That carrot cake looks good but my aspics are gorgeous. The nerve of that man!” a big-haired woman bemoaned to her pencil skirt-clad companion.

Raven’s head tilted in confusion; what was aspic?

Before she could dwell on whatever food trends she obviously wasn’t privy to, the Bat symbol lit up the sky. At its appearance the crowd seemed to hustle home even quicker, the conversations muting to a murmur as the clouds darkened over Gotham.

The symbol was bright against the sky; one flicker, only a simple fix if this dimension was the same as her home. Raven hummed at the sight and melted even further into the inked on shadows, following the panels as she landed just beyond a bank.

An explosion sounded halfway across the city.

Half of the officers hesitated and the other half jumped into their cruisers, speeding towards the pillar of smoke. The rest glanced among themselves and followed. Raven frowned at them; it was probably a diversion.

Sure enough, she felt the giddy nerves of the bank robbers inside a few seconds later. The Titan laid her cheek in her fist and merely watched as they scrambled about, her head turning as she felt Batman’s unmistakable aura enter the page. A brow raised at the youth of his visible face, then her eyes widened to a comical size.

Oh. Oh.

The demoness froze in her spot, watching as Batman went gliding over the rooftops. But Robin wasn’t by his side. Neither was either of the Batgirls that she knew. No, this one must have been one she’d never met. Surprisingly, she didn’t display the Bat symbol on her chest at all; in fact, her crimsons and emeralds were a stark contrast to the rest of the comic, but her fit was odd.

Not quite made for being Batgirl, but inexplicably belonging in this golden age. How odd.

But her hair…

Raven swallowed the air in her throat. Well, that certainly answered why this place was the golden age.

Admonishing herself at the beginnings of a schoolyard crush that she could feel starting, Raven shifted in her spot. This wasn’t her dimension, she could potentially indulge with screwing everything up, right?

So, despite wanting to keep a low profile as she watched them fight, the empath turned into a bird and phased in just behind them, watching as this Batgirl fought. Not quite as endlessly sarcastic as Steph, not as eagerly critical as Babs, not as intense or skilled as Cass, but as excited as any Batgirl for the ability to fight alongside the Batman.

She didn’t even seemed fazed when bolded words popped up in unison with their punched and kicks. Both she and this Batman slid along the BAM!s, BIFF!s, POW!s, and WHAM!s that described their attacks without any hesitation, and within a few pages all the bank robbers were apprehended.

The blonde nodded at the police as they cuffed the men, tossing her pine cape over her shoulders. “Aw, too bad Robin missed this,” Batgirl grinned up at the cloaked vigilante, her bright smile making Raven’s heart flutter.

“We should team up more often, Batman!”

He glanced down at his sidekick for this fight, “Batwoman needs you far more than I do.”

The rejection didn’t deter her, although her grin did falter. Her hands went to her hips, “Then at least until Robin’s arm heals up. You shouldn’t have to fight alone.”

The dark knight’s head tilted in silent agreement.. “Hmmm, very well.” His masked eyes took in the groaning bodies and the sound of approaching police sirens, “Go continue patrol while I find out what these robbers know about that explosion.”

“On it!” She gave him a salute and sprinted off, a flash of blonde hair and christmas colors. She got a block away without trouble, her eyes glancing at the police as they zoomed by and her fingers curling into fists as she noted a bird following her.

Batgirl frowned. She zig-zagged through the panels but no amount of speed lines or ducking into the fading buildings stopped the little avian. So, the Gothamite dove just behind the city’s library. The secluded setting made the bird sloppy and the hero tossed two smoking batarangs, leaping and pinning the raven in place. There was a shift like one page flipping to the next and the bird’s eyes turned red. Batgirl gasped and jumped back, her fists up in a fighting stance as the bird morphed into a woman.

Blue eyes blinked, skeptical and amazed at the plum cloak and stunning lilac eyes. No, not a woman. A teenage girl, just about her own age. But Batgirl didn’t let this mystery girl’s looks perplex her for too long; she immediately sized Raven up, carefully watching how the shadows followed her every move.

This little excursion certainly wasn’t going to plan but something in the Gothamite’s face made the demoness decide to be honest, consequences be damned. A sigh escaped, then she awkwardly met the blonde’s gaze, “Uh, hello. I’m Raven.”

A stormy glare was her answer, then a terse introduction, “Bat-Girl.”

They both jumped as the Bat’s comm blared out. The empath let out a sigh, her words a bit strained, “I promise I’m not a threat.”

Bat-Girl narrowed her eyes and took out her comm. She kept the mystic out of the screen’s view as she nodded at Batman’s instructions. She noted how Raven paused as she quickly gave Batman her report, her stoic features blanching at the sound of the hero’s voice.

Raven bit back a shudder at how young the dark knight was, Certainly not quite to the point of being the gruff, sandpapery tough guy that he was in her dimension. For the first time Raven wondered if the Golden Age was on the same age basis as her reality was.

Bat-Girl signed off and tucked her comm away, muffling the one link back to the BatCave under three layers of pockets. Raven shook her head at the familiar sight, quietly musing to herself, “Figures Bruce would still be so obsessive this early on.”

She just barely dodged the kick Bat-Girl aimed her way, strands of black magic swirling around them and pinning the mortal to the bricks. Raven stayed out of arms’ reach and narrowed her eyes at the hero, trying not to spend any time taking too much stock in how defined her bare forearms were.

Refocusing, amethyst eyes searched the vigilante’s face. Raven crossed her arms over her chest, making sure that her magic didn’t squeeze the blonde to the point of discomfort. “Does Robin exist?”

A derisive snort was her answer, “You mean birds?”

“I mean Dick Grayson.”

Bat-Girl’s eyes glared behind her mask, the muscles in her arm twitching. Raven took that as an invitation to speak, “I’m a part of his team.”

“In the future?”

Raven shrugged, “Something like that.” She considered pulling back but the pulse of Bat-Girl’s emotions kept her close. The demoness raised a brow, “You don’t seem too surprised.”

“This is the golden age,” Her voice raised half a pitch as she let out an exasperated laugh, shifting under the tendril of magic pressed painfully snug to her throat. “We still get a narrator during our fights sometimes.”

She looked her animated visitor over, “Didn’t think Richie would team up with a…” She paused, taking a moment to consider just what kind of powers described Raven. “A spirit of some sort--no…” Her lips spread as she guessed, “A demon?”

“You’re perceptive.”

Blue eyes rolled but Bat-Girl didn’t stop the cocky grin from brightening her face, nonchalant to the hold she was in, “And you aren’t a threat.”

“I’m not.” The shadows that held her slunk away, “Dick and I are heroes in our dimension.”

She could feel the concern seeping out of the heroine, but still the blonde let out a sigh and rolled her fingers. If this Raven character really was a teammate of Richie’s, then perhaps she could let her guard down just a little. Although Batwoman and Batman would be disappointed in how quickly she was trusting this pretty face.

Bat-Girl rolled her jaw, “Well in this dimension I’m Bette. Bette Kane.”

Recognition lit up amethyst eyes but Raven didn’t speak and Bette didn’t question her. In fact, the not-yet retconned hero seemed to be opening up to the prospect of Raven being in her dimension, if just for a visit.

So the empath decided to test her luck. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, “Would you mind showing me around, Bette? I’m not used to having to turn the page.”

“Pfft,” Bat-Girl snorted and Raven got the impression that she realized her words weren’t a metaphor. Instead, the teen readjusted her mask and motioned for Raven to follow, “Already got one sack of feathers to look after.”

“Well this one can take care of herself just fine.”

Her sleeved shoulders straightened at Raven’s words, affronted at the mere idea of not helping someone she could, “Doesn’t mean you should.”

“Spoken like a true bird, Miss Kane.”

Bette raised a brow, the movement moving her mask. But Raven didn’t explain and she shrugged, “Anywhere you want to see?”

“Anyplace with you there is fine with me.”

Bat-Girl ran a tongue over her teeth at the demon’s shameless attempt at flirting, trying and failing to keep a straight (hah!) face. An idea came to mind and her eyes lit up, watching as Raven’s gaze flicked to her mouth.

“You’re okay with other birds, right?”  

When the superpowered teen merely shrugged she continued, “There’s a bunch of nests over on the gates around Wedgwood Museum. Gotham Academy’s music class has been holding their practices out in front.”

Raven smirked at that, “Taking advantage of tourist season?”

“Hey, tubas are expensive!” The blonde chuckled as she motioned for the Titan to follow her, the two of them easily gliding past the stiff backgrounds. Bette grinned at her flying guest as a flick of magic kept her grapple hook from falling out of a crumbling rooftop.

The sound of music got louder as they neared the gated house. Violet eyes shut as she tried to place where she’d heard that jazzy tune before, her attention on Bat-Girl as she murmured, “But they’ve really been getting better. Sometimes I like to listen in, feed some birds when crime is pretty low.” 

Raven clicked her tongue at that. “Well I have some free time for a picnic, if you’d want.”

She glanced at Bette from the corner of her eye and felt that urge to be honest curl in her stomach again. A breath quickly escaped her before she was reminded of Batman’s instructions, “I read ahead. Apparently the robbers bought off the Riddler for a few of his bombs. Just a classic distraction case so they could get away clean.”

Bat-Girl tilted her head as Wedgwood came into view, lengthening her grappling hook until she skipped onto the ground. The two made their way towards the house in silence as Bette mused over her words, the mage’s shadows mingling with the tree’s shade to keep them from being spotted by any civilians.

“A picnic does sound nice,” Bette aimed a lazy smile Raven’s way, fiddling with the green triangles that adorned the ends of her sleeves. A gasp escaped as a disk of black magic appeared under her feet, lifting them up and levitating up to the large tree that hung just outside of Wedgewood’s gates.

Bat-Girl leaned against the mystic’s shoulder as they got settled just beyond the tree’s branches, hidden by the tulip tree’s waxy leaves. The tuba-heavy refrain started up again and Raven let herself get comfortable, clinging to the calming nerves that washed out of Bette. Her eyes slid open at the wave of nervousness and she turned to the Gothamite, “Is something wrong?”

She started to pull away, horrified that she might have made Bette uncomfortable. Bat-Girl’s hand wrapped around her wrist, preventing her from going too far. The blonde licked her lips, her words coming out faster than normal, “No, this is okay. But do you have to go after this?”

“Yeah, it’s probably getting late back at the Tower.” The cloaked teen sighed, sliding her hand down until her palm pressed against Bette’s. She weakly smiled, a lilt in her voice, “But I can always come back.”

Bette squeezed their hands, “Just to see me?”

“Just to see you.”

“Hmm,” Bat-Girl felt her smile widen as she guessed, “Perks of being a demon?”

She felt a heat curl up her face as Raven’s eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips and back again, “Something like that.”

[pastelastronomy24]

Laid Up— Erik Killmonger x Plus Size!Poc Reader

Listen, I’m mad that I was ABUSED INTO WRITING THIS BUT I’m a punk bitch so uh here y’all go. Also if this is hot garbage all blame goes to my nigga @killmongersgurl

———————

It was particularly hot on this Monday, and it seemed like niggas high and low decided today would be a kick back day. Gary from across the street had decided to barbecue, the smell of hot links and burgers in the grill filling the summer air. The old folks gathered around the beaten up and raggedy domino table, sipping on henny and yelling out phrases you still didn’t know the meaning of. The lil teenage niggas had long ago forgotten their shirts as they adorned only basketball shorts while they hooped on Mr. Johnson’s driveway. They had been playing the longest game of HORSE you’d ever seen. The little-er niggas were playing around the “Mysteriously” broken fire hydrant, only stopping to get some Fla-Vor-Ice.

It was such a nice little kick back that you decided to join a couple of the neighborhood girls on Auntie Keisha’s porch. The group of you were sitting around talking about your child hood years growing up together and things like how Keisha from next door became Auntie Keisha. You sat on the third step with Ayorie wearing your summer booty shorts and MTV tank top, letting all your thickness show (arms, tummy and all) because it was hot as fuck, and you reallllly didn’t give a mother fuck. Well, until THAT nigga showed up.

Erik “THAT nigga” Stevens was possibly the most popular nigga on the block. He went from “Quintessential Hood Nigga™️” to “Prestigious Hood Nigga™️” as he left your city to go to MIT. You’d never really associated with Erik for several reasons. One because your momma scolded you for having a 5 second conversation with him, claiming that he was “A hit and quit ass bitch” (which wasn’t wrong). And two because you’d spent enough time in high school hearing the phrase “Girrrrrlllll did you hear what Erik did?” which you proceeded to groan and roll your eyes every time because hearing what (and who) Erik did wasn’t worth your time.

Besides all the problematic qualities he possessed, he attracted punani like a moth to a flame. You knew way way way waaaay too many girls who’d fucked with him ( or him in general ) so you most definitely knew that the dick was bomb, but still you didn’t give a fuck. It was when Erik said “Aye Ma?” In a questioning tone that you realized you zoned out and looked to see that Erik was really right in front of you. He was dressed in a simple white tank with short grey sweats. He was of course wearing fresh Jordans which you found bold as fuck considering that they were white and the water from the hydrant had made little mud puddles. You saw that the other girls were looking at you waiting for an answer to a question you really didn’t even hear, and Erik stood with his eyebrow raised. You cocked your head to the side in confusion.

“Did you need something?” You asked incredulously. Erik chuckled and it was like the vibrations from his chest traveled to your body and it was suddenly super hot. How did this nigga exude superiority even in his fucking chuckle?

“I said I know you can braid the fuck outta some hair. Best on the block from what I remember. You think you can hook me up it’s hot as shit. This heat no joke.”

It was like you had both ascended and had a stroke. This dude knew who you were? You couldn’t even believe it. But you also realized that he probably hadn’t had his shit done in a while up in MIT. You looked up at his head and saw that he graced a bun in the back of his head above his fade (his edges almost all over the place). You sighed and nodded

“Alright. You’re gonna owe me $10 and some Canes though nigga” you didn’t expect to sound so bold and almost reeled back in shock. You weren’t going to show him that you were afraid of your own strength though, so you got up and walked into Auntie Keisha’s house asking if she had some Blue Magic, Rubber Bands, Edge Control and a Rattail Comb. She pointed to her bathroom and you went in and quickly grabbed the stuff, heading outside. You sat down on the fourth step while you instructed him to sit on the third.

“You want anything in particular? I can do most things it’s whatever you want.” You said as you pulled the ponytail holder from his dreads and applied edge control.

“Nah princess, I’m putting all of this in your hands.” You literally choked. You knew damn well he was playing games. You began to finger section his hair and tying the rest of it back for your first braid. As you rubbed the blue magic in his scalp he groaned and you were utterly shook. “Look nigga I know you’re like, king of pipe around here but imma need you to chill so I can concentrate.” You scolded him as you slicked the edge control on the back of your hand and onto his dreads. He held his hands up in mock defense. “I swear it’s not my fault your hands feel good as fuck in my scalp, and that’s on some non sexual shit. Every time I get my hair braided the lady is always heavy handed as fuck.” He smacked his teeth and groaned. “Man imma need to come back and have you always braid my shit up.” You laughed.

“Erik I’m not even done. I haven’t even finished this first braid yet.” He shook his head in protest and you smacked him on the forehead lightly mumbling ‘don’t move fool’.

“I’m foreal Y/N. I’ve seen the way that you braid. You’ve hooked up this whole block at least once and you always have everyone lookin fresh. I shoulda asked you to do this shit a long time ago.” You sensed that there was another meaning to what he was saying, but you elected to ignore it.

You spent the next 25 minutes laid up on the porch with Erik talking about life on your block and school life. Like the time Erik got in trouble for correcting Mrs. Evelleta in the 4th grade because she forgot to carry the one in a simple equation. And the time that Erik got caught smashing Aliana under the stairwell in 11th grade,and how Mrs. Lopez didn’t snitch because her “I’m only 21 and you’re kinda fine for a 17 year old” ass was lowkey in love with him. You guys found yourself belly laughing as you unearthed Erik’s bad ass past. You also found yourself braiding a little slower as something that usually only took 15 minutes took 25 because well if you were honest, you didn’t want this interaction to end. You could tell Erik knew what you were doing but he didn’t seem to mind as your fingers sectioned his hair.

Erik had just gotten through the story about the time when he was at some white boy college party and a frat played a Purge Prank on the members when you finished his last braid.

“I’m all done” you said as you finished putting in the last rubber band. You both got up and Erik stretched, his white tank lifting up and revealing the slightest bit of his impeccable stomach. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a multicolored African wallet (because of course that nigga would own a wallet like that). He grabbed 130$ and handed it to you.

“No Erik I only asked for 10$ take your 130$ back” you were about to hand him his extra money when he shook his head and pulled out his phone to look at your work.

“Nah princess, you got my shit looking phenomenal. You better keep that 130$. And I got your fluffy ass for Canes tomorrow aight?” You felt like you just got transported into a parallel universe at his words and internally swooned. You cast your head down and nodded. Erik stepped closer to you and tilted your chin up. “Imma pick you up tomorrow afternoon. And I’m serious about you being my personal braider Ma. Imma be popping up a lot over the summer.” He let go of your chin and smirked as he walked away, a cocky swing in his step. You rolled your eyes as you tried not to appear flustered.

“Yeah whatever nigga, don’t be late I’m serious about my chicken.” You yelled over to him at an attempt to sound hard.

You watched Erik step into his entirely too nice car and drive away, waving goodbye to you.

————————-

PART 2

@killmonger-apologist

[softstraykidsimagines]

Boyfriend!I.N (Jeongin) 

MASTERLIST 

WOOT WOOT

Little Jeongin!

This is gonna be so damn fluffy watch out 

Here we go!!!

Ok so Jeongin is shy at the best of times

So God help this poor child while he has a crush on you

He won’t even be able to talk to you properly

Most likely runs away whenever he gets embarrassed

Which is very often

Just

Can’t function

If one of the members even try the subject of his crush on you when you’re in the room

He lets instinct take over

And he dolphin screams to distract everyone

As people look in his direction

Because he is hella loud

He’ll scream again and die on the inside

Why can’t I think straight with y/nnnnn

He’d be so frustrated with himself

He’ll probably mentally slap himself every other second when he talks to you

Why did you say that? What is y/n gonna think of you?! IDIOT

I highly doubt he’d confess to you himself

At least in person

One of the members probably told you

So you went to see him

And scared the bejesus out of him when you asked if it was true

But he eventually nodded and confessed and VERY quietly asked you out this baby my God save him

To which you OBVIOUSLY said yes

And he probably jumped around happily to your response

Tried to stay cool, because he is Mature™

But as soon as you were not around he’d scream with happiness and run around because he is a ball of energy and he’s gonna explode

He’s whipped, your grace

Dates with Jeongin

Is it really such a mystery?

So so SO soft

His first date with you was going to a carnival

Because he made it his new goal in life to win you a stuffed toy

And win your heart forever

Little did he know that had already happened

Got really grouchy when he didn’t win anything

But immediately felt better when you both had something to eat who doesn’t feel better with food?

Forgot how to human when the date came to an end

And you kissed him on the cheek

Half as a joke, he collapsed onto the ground in a heap of giggles not really a joke it was genuine

He was, at that moment, the happiest boy to walk the planet

You can probably guess that this kid is too shy for PDA

But he’s all for hand holding wherever you two go

He really loves to swing your arms back and forth like children cause that’s what you are

Sometimes will peck your cheek if he’s feeling bold

If you initiate skinship out and about, he’s gonna turn a dark shade of red

But will hold in his squeal thank goodness

If the members tease him for being shy

Because where’s the lie

He’ll greet you and become insanely clingy

If you ask him why he won’t tell you

“I just really really really wanted to hug you”

“Jeongin you’ve been clinging onto me for 10 minutes, are you okay? And what if the boys tease you”

“They won’t I’m proving a point”

“Say what?!”

First kiss.

You’d think it’d be you who would have to make the first move right?

Wrong.

So freaking wrong

Because realise: once he makes his mind up about something, Jeongin carries his decision through to the end

And he decided to make a certain evening walk in the park very special

You were walking around, and it had gotten dark, only a few street lamps lit your way

You were both talking about absolute nonsense, laughing at each others jokes etc

And then he suddenly became very serious

“Can I ask you a favour? It’s really important to me…”

You got kinda nervous, because when was the last time Jeongin managed to keep a strait face like that?

From his pocket he pulled out a chain bracelet, with a pretty but subtle pattern on it. “Can you wear this? For me? And whenever you’re sad, or scared, look at it and think of me, and I can protect you”.

You were absolutely dumbstruck, so you just quietly let him out the bracelet on

You were about to cry as well

He showed you a second one which he had on his own wrist. “I want this to be something special between us”

And then he siezes the moment

And connects his lips with yours

Very gently

He kisses you so delicately, like you’re made of ice, about to break

When you part, he smiles softly

And starts walking again, calmly

Making you stand there confused af

Like where tf is shy Jeongin? Who is this?

Spoiler alert, it’s I.N, not soft Jeongin

Oh lord prepare yourself before meeting the rest of SKZ

Physically and mentally

Knowing them they’ll probably try to lift you up and get you to crowd surf

While still teasing the Maknae

They’ll be so protective of you, just like with Jeongin

You have become family, don’t doubt that for half a second

You are also now in charge of being the mood lifter for Jeongin

And his reassurance

Especially if he’s sick

Because he gets really tired whenever he so much as catches a cold, because he refuses to stop working and rest common sense who?

And when he’s tired, he thinks way more negatively

You were once alone with him in the practice room, and he was trying to improve a few moves to a really difficult choreography

For a while he kept smiling like the child he is, staying positive

But after trying over and over, having to catch his breath from fatigue, having trouble breathing from a blocked nose, he still couldn’t get the moves right

And out of pure exhaustion and frustration, he burst into tears no judging I’ve had this it’s painful

You immediately went over and hugged him tightly, reassuring him and calming him down

You both sat together on the floor, until he wasn’t upset anymore, but you still refused to let him practice after that

You took him home and looked after him until he passed out that night

The members were confused af as well 

“What’s wrong with Jeongin?”, asked Chan, being his usual protective-leader self

You replied simply because you didn’t want to upset the other boys. “He got frustrated at the dance he’s learning, and was exhausting himself, so I dragged him home to sleep...”

They were all really grateful the you were looking after Jeongin so well, and their love for you with the Maknae you only grew

Now this boy is not at all afraid of speaking his mind

So you two basically leave everything out in the open

No secrets

If one of you is pissed at the other, you will freaking say that you’re pissed at them

You don’t hold back

So then you can both talk rather freely about why you might be pissed

Basically what I’m saying is that fights are super rare

Because they don’t even get a chance to start when you two are so open with each other

So at most you bicker over food

But there are times

Like I said, insanely rarely 

Jeongin doesn’t tell you how much he’s struggling

He doesn’t want to seem like he’s complaining too much so he stays quiet about his worries about being an idol

It’s a bit like his situation during The 9th: he doesn’t want to burden anyone about feeling down, so he keeps a bright smile on his face

You kinda sense that there’s something up, but he convinces you for a long time that he is totally fine 

But when it becomes too much 

Being tired, frustrated, stressed and worked to the bone, and he still hasn’t said anything to anyone

He’ll break and yell at you over something not even worth yelling about

It’ll shock you so much that you’ll flinch away from him

He won’t just yell at you 

He’ll yell about how tired he is, about how unfair he thinks it is that he can’t learn a dance as quickly as anyone else

He’ll yell about everything and nothing

You understand quickly that he’s letting of steam, getting it all off his chest 

So once he’s quiet again, breathing heavily, crying silently

You’ll hug him gently, and reassure him that you’re there no matter what and that he can ramble and complain all he wants with you

NO MORE ANGST IM OUTTA HERE

He tries to force you to watch Mukbang, until you threaten him that you’ll secretly feed him black beans

You both love blasting Bruno Mars in the dorms, driving SKZ up the wall as you sing at the top of your lungs

He’ll try to teach to sing trot like him

But you both know that you’ll never be as good at singing it as him

He loves texting you whenever he has a spare half-second

He always gets in trouble with the other members because as soon they stop what they're doing, he's off to get his phone

“Where did Jeongin go”, asked Woojin. “He was here a second ago...” 

Chan sighed. “I can take a guess. JEONGIN PUT THAT DAMN PHONE DOWN!” 

He uses his Maknae Influence™ to get our of trouble lol

You both like to try and cook together

Doesn't really work

You usually end up making a mess

Or if you’re baking something

Like cookies

You'll end up eating all the batter before it even reaches the oven

Stray Kids will be deprived of cookies RIP 

When you suggest him meeting your family

He gets super nervous

But refuses to show it

You'll kind of pick up on his attitude

The way he answers questions on the matter so directly and seriously

But you're too kind and high-key impressed to point it out 

But when he does meet your fam he's super smiley and actually seems genuinely comfortable 

You on the other hand

Get hella stressed when you're supposed to meet his parents 

Will they approve? 

Will his brothers like you? 

As soon as you voice your concerns to Jeongin

He hugs you, reassuring you that they'll all adore you

He couldn't have been more right

His parents are so so sweet and love you from the word go 

Both his brothers love you just as much

Especially his younger brother, who just idolises you 

It’s so cute

You immediately exchange contacts and stay in touch

Jeongin ended up making a group chat with you and his bros because he was so excited that you got on so well

His favourite thing to do in the evening with you is just watch a random show

From a K-Drama to a weird comedy neither of had ever seen

He just likes relaxing with you, usually with your legs draped over his lap 

Probably screamed the first time you walked over wearing one of his jumpers

“ISN'T THAT MINE?”

“Oh, sorry I'll go put it back...” 

“DON'T YOU EVEN DARE I LOVE IT” 

Low-key snuck his hoodies into your closet just so he could see you wear them

But as soon as you brought it up

He'd refuse to give any answer on the matter

“What are you talking about? You must have stolen them yourself, thief”.

“Alright, I'll give them back, then”.

“No no, you stole them, so you must keep them”

“... Right” 

The first time he said 'I love you’ resembled your first kiss 

He had thought about it and planned it out 

The plan didn't really work

He'd meant to cook something for you

And watch your favourite movie 

And surprise you by just saying ‘I love you’ casually

But he messed up dinner

Accidentally spilled too much salt into the dish

So instead ordered takeout from your favourite place

Then 

Just because the universe was against him, for some unknown reason, the movie wouldn't work

So you ended up watching something else

And he was about to give up and plan for another day

But it just kinda slipped out?

“I'm sorry I couldn't make this a perfect night”, he said, dejected. “I wish I could just... easily show you how much I love you...” 

Sort of panicked after he said it

He started stuttering while trying to explain himself

Until you kissed him to shut him up

Telling him that you loved him too

And that's how he had a happiness heart attack

This bean will go public after a couple of years

He posted a photo of you smiling brightly in a cafe

With a simple caption: 'Love you so much’ 

Now naturally the internet is gonna die because hello?

Little baby Jeongin is dating?! 

But after a few hours of commotion there's gonna be something unexpected

People will recognise you 

From clips in SK TALKER

They'd seen the two of you

Just barely within the view of the camera 

Messing around and playing a bunch of games to pass the time

Some had naturally insisted that you two were dating

But you were mostly just written off as Jeongin’s best friend who had come to see him a few times backstage

But now that he had officially announced your relationship

There were A LOT of people saying 'I told you so’ on the internet

Whoops

Low-key, kpop fandoms area group of mini Sherlock Holmes’

He becomes so happy at the very mention of your name

Low-key hopes in every convo that someone will bring you up

Just so that he can talk about you nonstop

He talks a lot about you

SKZ always get a real earful

Especially when they’re away

He'll never stop talking about you which pisses pretty much everyone off

His coping mechanism for being away from you is just to recap a bunch of his favourite moments with you

So naturally anyone within earshot of him will hear a bunch of cute stories about you two

Right up until the moment he sees you again

Thank heavens the rest of SKZ will say as they watch the Maknae crush you in a hug, giggling excitedly

All in all, you two have a soft af relationship

With lots of giggles, cuddles surprisingly, and a lot of love

Can I please just get a Jeongin?? 

There we go! That concludes my soft-ass day! 

Now, I’m going away on holiday (sooner than I thought I would), but that’s not gonna stop me from writing! There’ll just be a few posts that won’t be on the Masterlist for a while. But as soon as I get access to any computer, I’ll update the Masterlist :)