#and has been for like seven years now? She’s cool though. She’s been absolutely elated by all the stuff said about her source lately

[esrah-rah-rasputin]

Don’t worry ms Doctor I saw your leather jacket

[ID: a digital portrait of the ninth doctor from the shoulders up. She’s looking over her shoulder to the left, and her hair catches the air around her. She’s wearing a v neck shirt and her leather jacket, and he hair is shoulder length with buzzcut sides. The background has little flecks of white in it, and the lighting goes from yellow, to pink, to purple. /End ID]

#Ninth doctor #Doctor who fanart #the doctor #my art #This is actually a portrait for Nina (and so was the one I posted a month or so ago of transbian Nine) - she’s in my system #and has been for like seven years now? She’s cool though. She’s been absolutely elated by all the stuff said about her source lately #described

[amymel86]

Wishes

A little time travel... for a treat...

Jon doesn’t believe in fate, or signs, or serendipity or any of that bullshit. But, he will admit that something is telling him that the time is right ‘to do the thing’ now. ‘The thing’ in question being telling Sansa how he feels.

For years he’d stamp down those admirations – the desire she’d spark or the warm, glow-y feeling she’d ignite low in his belly – because she was his best friend’s sister, and Robb was (understandably) ridiculously protective of Sansa after she’d had a couple of bad experiences with guys in her teens and early twenties. When they’d all been younger, Jon had felt like if he had actually done anything about the way his best friend’s sister makes him feel, then he’d be compromising his friendship with Robb or some shit. He can sneer at his younger self now, but that possible betrayal had felt real at the time.

The current problem Jon faced was boyfriend-shaped – specifically, Sansa’s boyfriend, Harry. What kind of a douche would he be if he confessed to always having feeling for her while she’s involved with someone else?

So instead he sulked and admired from afar... or not so ‘afar’ as it were, since he and Sansa had gotten even closer in terms of friendship since Robb married Rhaenys and moved south to Dorne.

Anyway, tonight is THE night. He can feel it. She’d recently broken up with Harry but even Sansa has admitted to him that it was a long time coming AND he’d just gotten off the phone to her asking him to come over because she has something she wants to show him.

What it actually is that she wants to show him, he does not know. Oh, he can imagine. But then he’s been imagining a hell of a lot when it comes to Sansa Stark.

It’s probably a new craft she’s learnt. She is forever finding things to try through YouTube tutorials. Just last month she taught herself to crochet and made him a blanket. It still kind of has that Sansa smell to it which Jon totally doesn’t hold to his nose like some sort of lovesick dork. (He does.)

With nerves all a-jumble as he pulls up to her little ground-floor flat, Jon prays to the Gods that he doesn’t believe in that he’s not about to a) make an absolute fool of himself and b) completely ruin the friendship that means the most to him right now. Maybe he would completely chicken out of this if it hadn’t been the little glimmers of hope he’s seen over the years; the way she’d look at him sometimes, an invitation in her eyes, the way she’s so tactile with him... the way she’s never called him out when she’s caught him staring at her ass.

God-damn, she has a nice ass.

Alright, Seven Hells, Jon. Get a grip!

The motion detector light Sansa has above her front door turns on as he approaches and her door swings open before he has a chance to even reach for the doorbell. Jon’s kind of abashed that he startles a little. His head’s not in the game yet and there she stands in all her glory – holding the power to make him elated or miserable.

“Sorry,” Sansa winces, noticing how her quick-to-answer actions had made him jump. “It’s just that he doesn’t like a lot of the noises of the house... or outside. The doorbell would’ve really freaked him out so-”

“He?” Jon asks, stepping over her threshold and ridding himself of his coat to hang on her hooks. “You get a dog or something?”

She looks nervous. Why is she nervous? “Err... no, not a dog.”

She’s twiddling with her fingers as she glances behind herself towards the lounge and back to Jon.

“Sansa?” Jon scoops up her hands and holds them gently. He gives them a squeeze and hopes that she knows what that squeeze means – that whatever that’s got her nervous, he’ll be there, he’ll help her through whatever it is. He’d do anything for her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Her earnest eyes glaze over a little as she blinks at him. She does that sometimes – Jon thinks it’s a reaction to the endearment and he’s ashamed to admit that he calls her ‘sweetheart’ at any opportunity he gets just to see her shiver or bite down on her lip.

She’s moving close now. Her mouth parts, drawing him in like a moth to the flame. He leans closer still, about to close his eyes and just – go for it. Maybe he doesn’t need words right now? Maybe he should just show her? Lay all the years of yearning out in one searing kiss.

What will she taste like?

Will it make her moan into his mouth?

Will she grasp at his hair? Tug a little? Pull him ever closer until there couldn’t possibly be any space left between them?

“I tossed a coin,” she whispers, eyes glued to his lips.

Jon’s brain switches tracks – slowly, and confusingly. Where is this current track going? “What?”

Jon watches Sansa shake herself out from under whatever spell they’d both cast here in her little entrance hallway.

Way to go, dumbass. She’s barely broken up from her boyfriend and you can’t step one foot over threshold without wanting to shove your tongue down her throat?

“I tossed a coin in the water,” Sansa repeats, making some space between them both. “At the hotsprings up at the old castle ruin.”

Jon was lost. “Okay?”

“And I made a wish and.... I think it came true?” Jon nods but Sansa is back to glancing behind herself, back toward her lounge.

Jon doesn’t believe in fate and wishes and all that gubbins. But Sansa does, so he’ll humour her. “What did you wish?”

Sansa’s twiddling with her fingers again. “I wished to fall in love,” she states quietly. “I wished for a good man who definitely, without question loves me back... in a romantic way, not like a friend.”

Ok, that last part was definitely aimed at him. Jon stutters, his foot jutting forward and his hand reaching out. He needs to tell her – he needs to tell her NOW. “Sansa, I-“

There’s an almighty crash in the lounge making Sansa spin and leave to go and see to the commotion. What on earth is it? Did she adopt a wild animal or something? That sounds exactly like something Sansa Stark would do. Jon follows, curious.

What he sees when he rounds the corner is not a wild animal... but a man; a man dressed very oddly and wielding a big-ass sword. “What the fuck?” Suddenly, the sword is aimed at him. Jon grabs for Sansa and yanks her behind himself. “Take what you want, man, but you can think fucking twice if you think you’re touching her.” His heart was racing.

“Unhand her!” The man orders. He’s dressed in some kind of medieval-renaissance-fayre-cosplay-get-up with leather and furs and riding boots and shit and-... apart from the scars on his face... looks... exactly like Jon?

Sansa steps out from behind him with her hands raised but Jon doesn’t really notice – he’s too busy having some sort of mental breakdown as he stares at his doppelganger, mouth agape.

“It’s ok, Jon, it’s alright,” she says, cooing at the Lord-of-the-Rings-cosplayer version of himself like he was the wounded wild animal that Jon had previously envisioned Sansa adopting. “Lower your sword,” she urges gently. “This is my friend, Jon – like I told you. The one that looks exactly like you! Do you remember?”

The medieval imposter’s shoulders seem to release their tension under that big-ass dead badger or whatever the fuck it is he’s wearing. “Aye,” he says with a chuckle. “It is good to meet you, Jon.” He sheathes his sword and steps forward, offering his hand. “I am Jon, Jon Snow.”

In part daze, part confusion and a whole heap of what the fuckity-fuck?!?!, Jon finds himself shaking the weirdo’s hand before pulling himself out of it. “Wait, what? No you’re not. I’m Jon Snow. Sansa,” he says, turning to her, “what is this? What’s going on?”

Am I tripping on something I don’t even remember taking?

“It’s like I told you, Jon. I tossed a coin into the hotspings and made a wish. I wished for someone to love me and then Jon appeared from behind the weirwood tree. At first I thought it was you pulling some weird prank,” she says, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of her vase that medieval-boy here clearly knocked off with his admittedly cool sword. The doppelganger knelt too to help her, a bashful sort of smile on his face when their eyes met. Jon did not like it. “But then I called you,” she says, wrenching her eyes away from the other Jon to look up at him. “Do you remember? Earlier today? I called and when you’d answered, I distractedly said I’d forgotten why I’d called?”

Yeah – he remembers. He’d thought –hoped- that she had wanted to confess some deep, burning love for him only for her courage to dry up when she’d squeaked at hearing his voice. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was just verifying that there were indeed two of him now. How silly of him.

“My apologies for the breakage,” the other Jon murmurs to Sansa, “your magic tablet came alive with sound and light and began moving across the surface in a rhythmic dance. I was unsure of the entity it would conjure and so drew my sword. I hope you can forgive me?”

“My phone,” Sansa mutters to herself in realisation. She reaches for it as it laid there on her coffee table. “I’d better put this on silent and turn off the vibration alerts,” she says with a smile aimed at middle-ages-moron next to her.

Jon purses his lips and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Okay, what is this?” If this is some kind of prank, he was over it yesterday.

Fur-boy stands and sighs. “I don’t claim to be knowledgeable in things such as these,” he starts in an admittedly gruff voice that Jon kind of hates. “All I know is that in my second lifetime, I didn’t get the chance to love Sansa as I’d wanted. We thought each other to be siblings and when I died again, I thought it was to be my last time...” he turns, giving Sansa a moon-struck look. “And I died wishing I could have loved you the way my heart wanted to.” Sansa’s answering expression looks as though her insides have gone all gooey.

“Wait – wait – wait!” Jon – the real Jon – says, stepping in between the two now. “First of all, you had the hots for your sister?”

Cosplay-Jon’s eyes don’t leave Sansa’s as he nods solemnly.

“Ok... just sayin’... kinda gross.” That earns him a playful slap on the shoulder from Sansa. “What?! It is! Secondly... what’s this about a ‘second life’ and ‘died again’?”

“I have danced death’s steps twice,” the other Jon says. “The first time I was brought back I knew my purpose was to protect her,” the damn man is looking Sansa again. “And this being the second, I fully believe that it is to love her properly this time.”

This guy has really lost his fucking mind. “Hold on there, buddy,” Jon says, squaring his shoulders. “Sansa isn’t yours to love, she’s-“ He glances at her, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs at her expectant expression. “Well.... she’s – can I talk to you in private a minute?” he says, ushering Sansa out of the room and back into the hallway. “You have to get rid of him, he’s a few slices short of a pizza.”

Sansa chuckles. “What?”

“Sansa, he’s an absolute nutter!”

“No, he’s not! He’s telling the truth, Jon!”

They both turn to peer back into Sansa’s lounge to see medieval-land boy picking up her TV remote with two tentative fingers and studying it like it had just landed from outer space.

Jon shoves his fingers up under his glasses and rubs at his eyes in exasperation. “Sansa, this dude went LARPing and bumped his head or something, shit – I don’t know, but this is all insane!”

She’s not even looking at him as he talks. She’s practically drooling at his doppelganger with hearts in her eyes as the lunatic in leather armour settles on her couch with his big-ass cloak, his hands curled around one of Sansa’s mugs (black with gold writing that says ‘Boss Bitch’ and little pink hearts). He takes a tentative sip of whatever it is that Sansa had made for him while he continues to study the room he finds himself in.

This is ridiculous. He thought this was his time! He never envisioned that he’d lose her to... himself?... himself but with a big-ass-sword?

Seven-fucking-hells!

#jonsa #jon x sansa #my jonsa fic

[blondekasp]

Absolutely Smitten

hihi!! so this is my gift to @november-hydrangea for the @itfandomprompts gift exchange, i’m sorry it’s a little late (had some internet troubles haha) but i hope you like it!

read on ao3

“Hey there, blondie. S’it okay if I sit here?” He wasn’t expecting to interact with someone so soon. But this is good, he supposes, it’s better to get the weight of first interactions with new people out of the way right out of the gate—he’ll maybe feel more prepared for class, later.

So he smiles, nods n’ watches the man sit down on the bench at the other side of the table, chunky ringlets bouncing around his head as he offers a braced grin. “Are ya just starting here?” Eddie short circuits for a moment, then remembers what the man must be talking about, n’ he sits up a little straighter.

“Oh, yeah, it’s my first year. Are you?” He receives an enthusiastic nod and a flash of buck teeth emerging from behind curved lips. His glasses are clunky, maybe a little too big for his face. The lenses are thick, too, magnifying his eyes to the maximum, n’ it’s maybe not a conventional look but it somehow completes his appearance. “Do you need directions or something?”

“Nah, I’ll figure tha’ stuff out, don’t worry, pal. I was actually wondering if ya wanted to join, a club, maybe more of a group, of sorts that me n’ my best girl Bev are starting?” He nudges his coke bottle glasses a little further up his nose, “It’s for, as Bev likes ta say, ‘friends of Dorothy’, so, would ya happen to be one?”

He’d heard about friends of Dorothy before, mostly whisperings between them in high school, n’ maybe it was because he paid too much attention, but he knew what it meant. Something twists achingly behind his ribs.

“Oh, I, uh, no! Uh, I…”

“Hey, hey, s’only a question, promise. M’not trying to catch you out.” The man’s eyes widen a little, azure irises covered over by pale lids, n’ then revealed again as he holds up his hands, as if to show that he meant no threat. Eddie suddenly feels his cheeks begin to burn like the eventide. “If you’re not, tha’s cool, but if you are, tha’s swell, too. N’ if ya wanna hang out after your classes or somethin’, we’ll be at the café across the street. Five o’clock.” He jerks his thumb behind him, n’ Eddie’s line of sight follows. He memorises the name, even if he’s not going to go.

Rather than open his mouth n’ embarrass himself further, Eddie nods. The man breaks out into a grin, “Neat, m’Richie by the way. I didn’t get your name either, blondie.”

“Oh, oh, it’s Eddie.” Richie holds his hand out, Eddie takes it slowly, shakes it, n’ lets it go soon after.

He’d thought that Richie would leave right away, now that the conversation is over, but it appears that he plans to stay. It’s silent, mostly, other than Richie making a passing comment or two about the weather, or people walking by. He asks Eddie about his classes, what his major is. He finds out in return that Richie is a drama major— it makes sense, Eddie thinks.

“Okay, I have to go, I have class now.” Eddie rises from the bench, gathering up his water n’ backpack, sun catching in his eyes for a moment before he raises his hand to shield them. “It was nice meeting you, Richie, you’re an interesting character.” He chuckles in spite of himself.

Richie stands, too, picking up his own things n’ smiling to Eddie. “You too, Eds, you’re a real cutie.” He winks, overly playful, a little ironically, n’ Eddie’s grip on his backpack tightens a little.

“My name is Eddie.” He reminds the man, face betraying him with a small smile. “I don’t usually go for nicknames.”

He’s met with a faux thoughtful expression, “Isn’t Eddie already a nickname?” N’ he can’t seem to think of a response to that, “See ya ‘round, Eds!” Before he can protest, Richie’s already bouncing away, but Eddie doesn’t have time to see where he goes off to, he has to go to class.

College isn’t what Eddie had thought it would be. Honestly, he’s not too sure what he’s been expecting until now, but he knows that it’s different. Classes are more laid back than they were in high school, the people are friendlier—though it wouldn’t be hard to find people to be nicer than most he’s met before, having grown up in the murder capital of Maine. Generally, though, the entirety of it is a breath of fresh air. He gets to stay in a dorm, by himself, away from the prying eyes of Ma, away from church, away from everyone who’d had a ruthless comment or two to make about him back home.

Five o’clock comes faster than he’s been anticipating, n’ as much as he dislikes the fact, he’s actually considering going to the little café across the street. It would be a nice way to wind down, ‘cause even if he’s elated to be here, the transition is stressful. But he wonders if he will be admitting something to himself if he goes.

By the time he makes it to the café, it’s gone quarter past five—if he hadn’t spent time fussing over whether or not he was actually going n’ walking back n’ forth between the college n’ the sidewalk where he’d have to cross, he’d probably have gotten there earlier.

Upon entering the café, he feels slightly intimidated. He hopes people aren’t staring at him, in Derry they stared a lot. “Eds, hey!” Thankful that he won’t have to awkwardly search for them, now, he gives Richie a tight lipped smile, n’ slowly walks across the room to their table. There’s seven of them, he realises, all very different looking people.

“That’s Miss Marsh, otherwise known as Bev.” Richie stands from the table, gesturing towards the red-headed woman who approaches him, holding out her hand. “She’s a real spitfire.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. D’ya like coffee?”

Eddie nods, “Oh, yeah, I like coffee. It’s nice to meet you, too.” He doesn’t like coffee, not really, anyway. It’s too bitter for his taste, even with sugar to sweeten it. He drinks it, though, every morning, if only to spite Ma. She’d never let him have coffee, or any caffeinated drink—said it would damage your heart, Eddie bear, you know how fragile it is. It hadn’t, of course.

“Great, I’ll go order you some.” She winks, reminiscent of the one Richie had thrown his way earlier in the day. He’s greeted by five others, Stan, Patty, Mike, Bill n’ Ben, or as Richie likes to call them—Stan the Man, Patpat, Micycle, Billiam n’ Haystack. They introduce themselves one by one, with kind smiles n’ a hug or a handshake to offer. He watches all of their eyes briefly flicker to his left shoulder, where his shirt is tied off n’ there’s a distinct lack of an arm, but they don’t ask, or look at him strangely, like he’s used to people doing.

Bev comes back a few minutes later, sits a cup n’ a small plate with a cookie on it down in front of Eddie, “Oh, thank you.” He smiles, finally pulling his jacket down from his shoulders n’ draping it over the back of his chair. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Thanks for coming, Eds. We just thought this would be a good way to meet some new people who have things in common. Make things easier, have some good chucks.” Good chucks? “Stan, Patty n’ Mike are together, Bill has a girlfriend called Audra but she couldn’t make it n’ me, Miss Marsh n’ Haystack are all single pringles. Ya got a sweetheart yourself, Eds?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. Not many options where I lived, before I came here.” He explains, taking a sip of coffee. They all nod, murmurings of understanding coming from around the table. “Are all of you in college?”

Mike starts first, “I’ve been working on my family’s farm back home for years, I’m here with Stan an’ Patty while they get settled in n’ then I’ll just be visiting at weekends.” Stan takes Mike’s hand n’ squeezes it gently, Patty watches, smiling softly. “The rest of you are in college, right?”

“Yeah, n’ it’s already better than high school.” Richie interjects, “My comedic genius went very underappreciated in high school.” He explains solemnly, dramatically, n’ Eddie can’t help but chuckle.

“I’m yet to hear some of this ‘comedic genius’ that you speak of.” Eddie remarks, n’ Richie gasps, throwing a hand over the right side of his chest.

“Oh, you wound me, Eds! Already broken my heart n’ I’ve barely known you a day.”

“Your heart is on the left side, Einstein.” Richie waves him off, leaning over the table. Eddie feels himself lean closer, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Can I help you with something?”

Richie pinches his cheek gently, “You're a real cutie, Eds. You’ll be positively chuckalicious in no time, I promise m’hilarious.” He sits back, wiggling his eyebrows obnoxiously at Eddie, before taking a bite of his sandwich. He rolls his eyes at Richie, shaking his head as if in disagreeal. “Don’t believe me?”

“No, not really. How could I?”

“Alright, let me prove it.”

Suddenly, it’s six-thirty n’ he’s been watching Richie prove his comedic skill for an hour. About forty minutes ago, he was trying his best to blow Eddie away with his impressions which yes, even if Eddie tried hard not to show it, he thought were actually very funny. Twenty minutes ago, he decided that he wanted to showcase his ventriloquist act, but explained that since he doesn’t have his doll with him, he’d have to draw a face on his hand n’ improvise. Eddie’s almost thankful for the lack of preparation for this act, ‘cause the sight of Richie using his hand to flirt with Eddie is truly something else.

The others have almost faded into the background, ‘cause, unexpectedly, Richie is right at the forefront of his attention. He’s almost mesmerising, his confidence n’ charm to be admired. “Awh, come on, Eds. Whatddya say, my buddy here has all the top tier characteristics required of someone who can treat you right.” He moves his hand up n’ down rhythmically, as if to make it nod along with him, “He can be real handy when you need it.”

“Oh my God, Richie.” Eddie pushes him back a little, rolling his eyes n’ giggling as his face blooms red, “M’sorry but I think I’ll have to reject your hand, I already have a great one. I can write with it n’ everything.” He waves his right hand in front of Richie’s face, n’ proceeds to have it ‘kissed’ by Richie’s hand-puppet.

“That’s too bad, you two would’ve been great together, pal.” Richie nods solemnly at his hand, before putting it in his pocket. “So what’s your verdict, Eds? Do you deem me funny enough to be worthy of your friendship?” He casts a hand over his eyes, dramatically awaiting Eddie’s ‘important decision’.

Eddie giggles, “Yes, okay, but just know that even if I’m rejecting him, it was your hand friend that convinced me. He’s funnier than you.” He watches, amused, as Richie goes on another spiel about his poor broken heart n’ how he’ll never recover. When Richie’s finally done, n’ he’s flopped back down into his seat, Eddie finishes off what’s left of his coffee, still smiling to himself. Putting his cup down, he checks his watch, “Alright, I think I’m gonna go back to m’dorm now, m’kinda tired.”

“Okay, no worries, Eds. Think I’ll turn in for now, too. I could walk you back, if you like.” He offers, starting to pack up his bag as Eddie does the same. “Only if you want me to, of course.”

A little more time with Richie would be nice, he thinks. “Oh, sure, Richie. If you want to.” He nods, standing up, “It’s been great to meet you all. I hope we can hang out again soon, it was fun.”

“Of course! I’m glad you had fun, Eddie.” Ben pipes up, reaching up to pat his arm. Bev nods beside him, delighted, n’ the others all share murmurs of agreement. They’ve been kinder to him in a few hours than any of the people in his hometown in eighteen years.

Eddie says his goodbyes, lets Richie do the same, n’ then they’re off. The walk isn’t too long, the weather is still nice n’ the sun is just setting. It’s still busy on the streets, presumably other college students going out with their friends. “My dorm is just over here.” He points to the block closest to them. Richie nods, walking him over to the bottom of the building.

“Did ya have fun, today?” Richie asks when they stop outside the door, finally facing Eddie fully. He shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back n’ forth on his feet. “I hope I wasn’t too, uh, loud, for you.”

Eddie shakes his head quickly, “Oh, no, of course not. I had a lot of fun, actually. More than I’ve had in a long time. So thank you.” Richie grins, looking sort of relieved. He pushes his glasses up again, Eddie thinks it might be a nervous tic of some sort.

“Of course, Eds, I’m glad.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s picking his next words carefully, “Say, uhm, would you maybe like to have breakfast with me, tomorrow? If you’re free?”

“Oh.” Eddie begins, taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting any of them to ask for more time with him outside of meeting all together. It’s a good thing, though, he supposes, to have made a new friend so quickly. Hell, to have made seven by the end of his first real day here. This is why he’s here. He doesn’t need Ma anymore. “I think that would be great. What time?”

“Ten o’clock? I’ll meet you out here? I saw a little diner a few streets away, we could maybe try it out.”

“I’d like that.” He agrees, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rich.”

Richie comes a little closer, n’ bends down to press a short kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Bye, Eds, see you tomorrow.” Then he’s moving back, waving briefly, n’ walking off the same way he had this morning. Eddie's heart picks a little, just enough to send a warm buzz around his ribs, into his fingertips.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #amputee eddie kaspbrak #blonde eddie #reddie oneshot #it 1990 #it 2017 #it stephen king #reddie college au #fandom exchange #mine

[its-flicked-switch]

Alien

| RATING M | 

MSIV left the X-File fandom on the edge of a cliff that, in the absence of GA, will never be resolved to any level of satisfaction. Alien is my attempt to do what Chris Carter could not — provide closure for the series as a whole. What happens following Scully's revelations on the dock? What becomes of William, Skinner, Reyes, and The Smoking Man?

PREFACE

—

"Evil (ignorance) is like a shadow — it has no real substance of its own, it is simply a lack of light. You cannot cause a shadow to disappear by trying to fight it, stamp on it, by railing against it, or any other form of emotional or physical resistance. In order to cause a shadow to disappear, you must shine light on it."

— Shakti Gawain

—

For the past 17 years, I have played the role of Jackson Van De Kamp. Odd, isn't it? That I would refer to playing myself as playing a role? But as I reflect on all that has happened in the past 17 years, that is the only way I know how to describe the journey that began on a farm in rural Wyoming in 2001 — a role.

Initially, everything was as it should have been. I was an only child being raised by two loving and doting parents. They attended to me and each of my milestones with the adoration and enthusiasm typical of new parents. Imagine their absolute elation at my ability to run when most babies were still creeping around on all fours and their pride in my ability to read at a first-grade level when I was only three years old. I was their miracle, an answer to their prayers for parenthood. As I continued to grow, however, it became clear that I was far more than an exceptional miracle.

My early childhood was unremarkable, until the day that it wasn't.

Tragically, the Van De Kamp's love and devotion would not be enough to silence what was inside of me. Despite their efforts, my earliest childhood memories were shrouded by a sense of unease. A deep-seated feeling that something was missing or not as it should be. In time, my parents confessed what I already sensed. I wasn't truly theirs. I came into their lives as an infant and what they knew of my biological family was limited. I have now come to understand why. The Van De Kamps were truly remarkable parents. The more I learn about who and what I am, really am, the deeper I mourn their loss. They deserved better. We all deserved better.

Van De Kamp Entry #092

Case No. 11101993717

Evidence No. 163.092

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

CH1: THE WATER'S EDGE

—

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."

― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

—

The rain has thoroughly soaked through her hair and clothes, but Scully feels nothing. She remains anchored in place staring down into the black abyss below her as the divers divide the harbor into grids. When William and Spender disappeared into the depths of the harbor several hours ago, the air was cool and crisp with an overlay of mist, but the temperature has dropped ten to fifteen degrees since then and what was a soft drizzle has now transitioned into a light, steady rain.

She knows she should walk away, but she's done with that.

While C. G. B. Spender's admission to Skinner had come as a surprise, the truth had not. She and Mulder had long suspected the syndicate's involvement in her sudden ability to conceive a child. After discovering Emily and learning of her missing ova, Scully had run every test imaginable. Had there have been any ova remaining inside of her, she would have found them. This is how she knows with absolute certainty that the ova used to created William was either implanted or produced within her body by unnatural means.

Her greatest fear for William has always been that his existence was part of an agenda, and the testing she performed throughout her pregnancy and after his birth had done little to ease her fears. DNA doesn't lie. William is their son. Hers and Mulder's. Yet he isn't — at least not entirely.

Traditionally, each parent passes half of their genetic material to their unborn child. William, however, only shared half of her and Mulder's DNA collectively. The remaining half was unidentifiable and by definition — alien. When she performed the original analysis, the technology to isolate this anomaly and examine it properly didn't exist, at least not in any laboratory she had access to. Her desire to find the truth, however, had been overwritten by fear. She knew that exploring the origins and implications of the remaining half would come at a cost, undoubtedly drawing attention to and endangering their son. The decision to destroy all of the samples and data she had collected had not been a decision that she had made lightly. But ultimately, she had chosen William's safety over conspiracy and little green men.

What Scully had told no one, not even Mulder, was that she had kept the most critical sample of all. Hidden in a secure location amongst hundreds of thousands of other samples, she had stored William's umbilical cord, preserving not only his DNA but his stem cells. She could not, in good conscience, given what she and Mulder had experienced with the alien virus, destroy the key to the greatest mystery of their lives. Preserving his cord wasn't just about science. It was also about security. She had lost Mulder once, and the thought of going through anything like that ever again was unbearable. Their enemies had waged war on them before, and there was little assurance that they wouldn't come for them again. William's miraculous conception only served to further convince her that the truth was far more sinister than they had been previously led to believe. In that sense, what Spender had told Skinner was true. He was, at least on some level, responsible for the science that helped to created William — but a father, he was not.

Scully isn't sure where Mulder is at the moment, but there is little doubt in her mind that he is somewhere nearby taking the brunt of Deputy Director Kersh's wrath. The fact that she has been standing on the docks for over an hour and hasn't been approached or questioned by anybody is most certainly his doing. Were it not for Skinner, she and Mulder would both likely be in handcuffs and in the bowels of the justice building.

The call she made earlier to Tad O'Malley had been reckless, bordering on insane, but it had to be done. The days of hiding in the shadows were over. Remaining silent all these years had bought them time but not freedom. Too much had been lost to let this fall below the surface yet again. This time, those responsible will not be able to contain the blowback.

The vibrating phone in her pocket pulls her away from her thoughts and back into the harsh reality of her present surroundings. The only reason she even attends to it is that she thinks it might be Mulder, but it's not. It's her brother, and it's not the first time he's called. Tad O'Malley's broadcast in combination with tonight's body count has created quite the media storm with her and Mulder at its center.

Bill's hatred for Mulder still remains unmatched. If she can give her brother credit for anything, it's consistency. With the recent loss of their mother, she knows she can't continue to send him directly to her voicemail. He never calls, so the fact that he has called seven times in the last forty-five minutes tells her that he is about to reach his limit. If she doesn't answer soon, he is likely to turn up unannounced.

Deciding that answering the phone is the lesser of two evils, Scully takes a deep breath and hits accept, getting right to the point because she knows her brother well.

"Bill, this is not a good time. I'm going to have to call you back later."

Bill is well-connected and not above pulling rank to get the information he wants. Odds are, he already knows that she is not one of the casualties in tonight's bloodbath, leaving him with only one other reason to call, and she is in no mood to argue with her brother about Mulder or the X Files.

"Jesus Christ, Dana, what the hell is going on? Are you okay? I swear to God if Mulder —"

She cuts him off quickly because she doesn't have the energy or the patience to listen to his long list of grievances against Mulder.

"Mulder wasn't the source, Bill. I was. This isn't about the FBI or the X Files. This is about William."

She says William's name to shut him up, and also because she doesn't want him to hear it from another source. Given his high-security clearance, it's certainly possible he will find out elsewhere if she doesn't tell him herself, assuming he doesn't know already. Even though they haven't had a pleasant conversation in over a decade, he's still her brother, and he still deserves to hear it from her.

"I've seen him, Bill. Spoken to him. Mulder and I both have. He's…," she hesitates because she can't be certain that her line is secure. Swallowing the lump in her throat and steadying her voice, she finally settles with, "gone."

It's not a lie, but it's not the truth either.

"William? Dana… what are you talking about? And what do you mean gone… Jesus, is he…? How can you —"

"I can't talk about this right now. Tell everyone that I am okay and that I will be in touch as soon as I have a more secure line."

"Dammit, Dana, I —"

Ending the call, she switches off her phone and slips it back into her pocket. Scully knows that at some point she will have to level with her family and tell them the truth about William, but not now — not today. Her frozen fingers sink deeper into her damp pockets in search of her mother's quarter medallion.

The mystery surrounding its origin doesn't bother her as much as it used to. If anything, it has been a great source of comfort. Scully's mother and sister were the only members of her family to ever support her decision to join the FBI, and their support and relation to her had cost them their lives — her sister directly, her mother more so indirectly. Scully's abduction, cancer diagnosis, and subsequent hospitalizations in combination with Melissa's murder and William's adoption had undoubtedly aged her sweet mother at least two decades. Her brothers continue to assert that she died of a broken heart. They are probably right.

The conversation she and Mulder had on the church pew earlier this week immediately comes to mind. Can she live with the results of the decisions she has made? Were they the right ones? As she runs her fingers over the outer ridges of her mother's quarter, she silently prays for the clarity and strength that will be required to face whatever comes next. While she cannot predict the future, she does know one thing with absolute certainty: their son is not dead.

The dive teams won't find either body. She can't explain how she knows. She just does. With her hands buried deep in her pockets, she takes one last look at the churning waters below before turning and heading back towards the chaos. There is nothing left for her here.

Making her way back towards the warehouse in search of Mulder, Scully spots Skinner almost immediately. He's sitting in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket speaking to Kersh and two other agents that she doesn't recognize. Skinner's eyes look tired and defeated, but he still manages to give her a nod and a slight smile. She returns the gesture just before disappearing behind a second ambulance. Words with the deputy director will have to wait. She needs to get out of the rain and find Mulder. As she navigates her way through the maze of tape and haphazardly parked emergency vehicles, she stops abruptly when she hears her name, turning to find Mulder walking towards her.

His stride embodies purpose and confidence, but as he gets closer, she can see the fatigue in his step and the concern in his eyes.

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

His brow furrows as he reaches out with one hand to lightly touch her shoulder, the other quickly finding the tips of her hair and side of her face.

"Scully, you are soaking wet, have you been standing out in the rain all of this time?"

Before she can respond, he's slipping off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her head in an attempt to protect her from the rain.

"I've been on the docks. They haven't located Spender or… or William," she says, her voice unsteady.

He swallows and nods, averting his eyes off into the distance as if he is looking for someone.

"Let's get out of here," he says as he takes her hand.

Neither of them speaks as he guides them through mayhem. She's surprised to see his silver Mustang up ahead and wonders how in the world he managed to move it without erupting World War III. Only Mulder could remove a car from an active crime scene and walk away unscathed. He unlocks the passenger door and places his hand protectively on the top of her head as she eases down into the seat. Moments later, she feels the car shift under his weight as he slides into the driver's seat, but she doesn't look at him. Her eyes are entranced by the rain splattering against the windshield — her mind on their son. He's out there. He's cold, wet, and has nowhere to go. And instead of looking for him, they are leaving. His words, spoken through Mulder, are still reverberating in the recesses of her mind.

"We can't protect him. No one can … let him go … he knows you love him."

A sickening feeling hits her in the pit of her stomach as Mulder puts the car into reverse and starts to drive away. Tonight, she is abandoning her son for the second time. The tears she has been holding back for the past several hours now flow freely. Mulder notices them but says nothing. Instead, he turns on the seat warmers and angles all the vents in her direction before reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers. It's not until his hand joins hers that she realizes how cold she is, but it's not just the cold that causes her tremble. The raw emotion brewing inside of her is paralyzing. She tries to speak but opens her mouth only to close it.

The first few miles are silent because neither of them knows where to begin.

The minutes continue to tick by until she can't take it anymore.

As wonderful as the heat feels as it hits her damp hair, skin, and clothes, she turns the intensity of it down to quiet the obnoxiously loud fan, not wanting to raise her voice to be heard.

"He's not dead, Mulder. Neither of them are."

It's not the most profound thing she could have said following the bombs she has dropped on him today, but it's a starting point.

"Scully…"

"No, Mulder, listen to me. I can't explain it. I can't explain how I know. I just do."

He's quiet for a moment, briefly giving her his eyes before he responds.

"Do you want me to turn around?"

"No."

Her voice is soft and raspy from the cold, but the answer comes easily, for the answers they seek are not at the bottom of the harbor.

Unable to look out into the dark, miserable night any longer, she closes her eyes. There is so much more she wants to say… so much that he deserves to hear but not here… not like this.

The drive home takes a little over two hours.

They finish it with their hands joined in silence.

---------

AN: As always, a HUGE thank you to my betas @kikocrystalball, @admiralty-xfd and @suilven19 for their edits and encouragement... because nobody gets there alone ;)

To follow the Cleaning Up After Chris Carter Series, click here. 

#msr fanfic #post my struggle 4 #XF season 12 #the x files #x files fanfic #mulder and scully #william arc

[sinfvls]

          hey all you cool cats and kittens !  it’s carole desi from big cat rescue and i’m here to deliver a tubular trio to this glorious group. i’ve been on the hunt for a solid supernatural rp for idk how long and i’m so stoked to find a home in bloodshq  &  begin writing / plotting with every single one of you !  admittedly, their backgrounds are pretty underwhelming because they’re all new muses ( lord help me ) and i’m still getting a feel for them, and i have just a few wanted connections up for grabs listed at the end of each of their blurbs, so if you see any that strike your interest please feel free to slide into my ims ( but i’m also super open to anything, so feel free to hit me with your ideas too ! )  &  now without further ado, i give you  DAMON BELMONT ,  NICHOLAS SPENCER  &  VERONA ADLER. 

damon belmont  has been seen walking the seattle streets. the werewolf has been in town for  one week, and are known to be  aloof  but also very  loyal.  the  thirty seven  year old is the  vice president of the mongrels motorcycle club.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble charlie hunnam. their pronouns are  he/him.  damon’s werewolf gene is  triggered.

statistics & connections

doesn’t know who his parents are / were.  he was found abandoned in the woods of hayfork, california as a wee babe by a pair of hikers.  tossed into the social system, he hopped from foster home to foster home, until finally sticking with a woman named delilah belmont, who eventually opted to adopt him.

she lived off the grid, in the backwoods, where she fended for herself by hunting for meat, growing her own produce, and even tended to livestock. damon thrived in this lifestyle, learning how to survive in the wilderness. he didn’t go to public school. instead, he was homeschooled by delilah, who taught him only what she valued to be of great importance. she wasn’t gonna raise no soft, yellowbelly who couldn’t fend for himself.

however, one day while out hunting, the two were attacked by a grizzly bear and it mauled delilah nearly to death before damon put a few rounds of bullets into it. there was no saving her, and she knew it. instead, she begged damon to end the pain. out of mercy, he killed her, and thus triggered the werewolf gene he didn’t even realize was in him. the confusion he had to deal with alone as a result was heartbreaking. he didn’t understand what he was, seeing himself as a monster whenever there was a full moon to unleash his inner beast. damon thought he was the only one of his kind, until he met a group of mysterious travelers.

the mongrels motorcycle club, what everyone assumed to be a band of criminals. damon first met them at a dive bar in town, where he’d been planning to drink himself into a stupor. they knew what he was immediately and offered him a home; a new family with them. while he had so many unanswered questions, the young werewolf also had nothing to lose, and so he joined the bloodmoon pack and never looked back. 

the acceptance and relief from knowing he wasn’t an abomination was overwhelming. never did he think that he would develop such a strong bond with another person, let alone an entire pack of werewolves. the bloodmoon pack has been travelling just about everywhere, stopping in areas to rest before carrying on again, living as vagabonds, and picking up “strays” / other packless werewolves along the way. he’s been with the pack for sixteen years.

( more tba yikes )

wanted connections

bloodmoon pack / mongrels mc members.  still need a president, sgt at arms, road captain, enforcer, chaplain, etc. info can be found on the wanted connections page on the main !

soulmate. listen, he’s been around the block and i think it’s safe to say he’d have found his mate by now asdjkhg. she could have already been with the pack when he joined, or joined after him at some point. completely open to plotting all the details. filled by cleo clarke

( more tba maybe sdjhfg )

nicholas “nick” spencer  has lived in seattle for  twelve years, and are known to be  broody  but also very  altruistic.  the  twenty one  year old human  goes to school at seattle university.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble finn cole. their pronouns are  he/him.  nick is  unaware  of the supernatural.

statistics & connections

born in los angeles, california to a pair of admirably gifted parents, nicholas spencer lived a fairly privileged first eight years of his life. his mother, a soap opera actress, and his father, a talented chef, gave both nick and his older sister a life full of love and luxury. yes, everything was absolutely perfect in their world. until it wasn’t.

at barely eight years old, nick was violently thrown along with his sister into one of the most traumatic experiences any child could go through; they lost their parents to a fatal car accident. being forced to move to seattle with his sister to live with their aunt, he didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process what was going on. the pain of his loss was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though their parents abandoned them. and thus, nick’s out of control behavior was born.

suicide mention tw.  he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, nick found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his aunt’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in nick’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with nick spencer. he was quite eloquent, sure, but the one thing he always did was play basketball at one of the outdoor courts in seattle. anytime he needed to blow off steam, to contemplate life, or just to shoot hoops, you could always catch him at the court. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned nick the win and three thousand dollars as a prize.

bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, nick embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he keeps safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to seattle university, where he’s now a literature major with plans of either becoming an author or perhaps an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

( more will be added later oop )

wanted connections

his three best friends ( see listed in wanted connections on the main ! )

someone he doesn’t see eye to eye with, maybe opposite in personality or morals. most likely someone he went to high school with or someone who also attends seattle university ( bonus points if they’re supernatural )

some bad folk he may have accidentally gotten mixed up with, either in the past or current ( or both sdfhkjg ). could literally be ANYTHING, maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have, maybe there’s some drug scandal he got mixed up in and now can’t get out of ??  

more tba eventually !

verona adler  has been seen walking the seattle streets. the fae has been in town for  three years, and are known to be  restive  but also very  fervent.  the  twenty four  year old works as a  bar & grill waitress.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble dove cameron. their pronouns are  she/her. 

statistics & connections

oakdale, louisiana.  born and bred.  she was raised middle to two brothers, one older and one younger, but was the absolute apple of her mom and dad’s eye, being their only daughter. her family was reputable, as were the strawberry fields they owned. people from all over the state would pay a petty price to pick a few cartons full of the famously juicy adler strawberries.

at a very young age, verona had to learn how to better control her emotions, which is very difficult for a child to understand and do. she was known for glowing tantrums, and levitating when particularly elated over something. however, in due time, the young faerie learned to hide these paramount parts of herself from the world surrounding them, out of fear over the potential backlash of human ignorance.

she’s been very personable her entire life, much like a light in a dark room. excelling in school, she mastered both academics and the social aspect, she was on the school’s yearbook committee as well as the cheerleading squad, and played an active part in her community as best as she could, generally through volunteer work. a true southern belle, through and through.

however, verona was exhausted. she couldn’t stand pretending to be something she wasn’t; hiding her true colors from the world just because the world was deemed to be much too censorious when it came to being different. while she adored her family and friends, she wasn’t being true to herself which left her unhappy behind closed doors. so, at the age of twenty one, she found an ad in the paper for a roommate in seattle and the city was evidently huge in comparison to her small town. the thought of living somewhere that was hopefully more accepting was an absolute dream, so she packed her things and made the move.

she’s been living in seattle for three years now, working at the same bar & grill she started off with as a waitress and she loves it. she loves meeting people that come from all different walks of life, the mixture of humans and supernatural is perfect. though she’s still a little put out by hiding her true self, she enjoys being surrounded by a bigger populace of supernatural beings that she generally doesn’t have to hide around.

( more tba probably ... eventually )

wanted connections

exes / flings / one night stands.  her friends calling her a slut is just teasing and gets a laugh out of her, a stranger calling her a slut will put vee in a full on rage, but all in all .... girl gets around.  NOT because she’s a sex fiend, but because she loves the idea of being loved, and therefore looks for it in all the wrong places sdfahkfjg. 

best friend ( supernatural only pls ! ).  she needs someone she can fully open up to without worry of being judged, rant / vent to each other about all the shit in their lives, talk about things they wouldn’t normally be able to talk about in the public, etc. a good wholesome friendship.

someone she annoys / who annoys her / or both.  girl is basically a constant ray of sunshine & agonizingly curious / nosy, and that probably presses at least one person. she can’t stand some who’s a grump without a cause & has an insatiable need to pick people apart in order to find out wtf happened to them / the reason why they are the way that they are.

maybe her brother(s) ?  i mean, if anyone wanted to pick them up, they’re free to snag !!

more tba later !

#bloods.intro #* 𝙙 . 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩 ╱ intro . #* 𝙣 . 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro . #* 𝙫 . 𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro . #suicide tw #murder tw #death tw #made individual intro tags thinkin i was gna post individual intros #i played myself

[yashalex]

crash and burn, baby. crash and burn   [Chapter 10] Previous chapter is here It’s not a problem when your best mate finds a new crush and forgets about you. It’s the problem when his crush takes an interest in you and you don’t really mind. Or: Lucas Lallemant, a new guy in the school, attracts Eliott’s best mate attention… and not just his.

Chapter 9 Eliott and Lucas finally have a lot of time to spend together.

“So… parallel universes. What do you think?”

Lucas and Eliott were lying on the bed in Lucas’s room with only boxers and t-shirts on. They came here hours ago, being absolutely soppy, their teeth were chattering with cold. Still, they both couldn’t stop smiling. Lucas’ father was off on a business trip again, so his house was the obvious place for them to go. And all this time they were doing nothing but kissing, hugging, touching and exploring each other’s body as if they were the most precious things in the world. And Eliott started to think that it was exactly what Lucas was. Too precious. So when the boy asked him his question, Eliott didn't manage to catch it straight away.

“What?” He murmured, burying his head in the boy's neck. Absorbing his scent. If only he could lock it up in the bottle and take it to his flat just for his room to smell like that. Life would have been so much more pleasant then.

“Parallel universes. Do you believe in them?” Lucas clarified his question, and Eliott couldn’t but notice that he chose a weird thing for discussion. But he didn’t mind.

“I’m not sure,” he said, not moving from his spot. He could feel a shiver, running down the boy’s neck which was caused by his voice. It made him smile, and he continued. “For me, there’s only one universe and there is a real tragedy in that. Sometimes when I have to make a choice I always think that there are two paths to take. And when I choose one path, because I need to make this choice, I always think about the second one and about all the missed opportunities I left with it. That drives me crazy.”

“But what if there is another Eliott in the parallel universe, who’s chosen another path? Then it’d mean that you’ve tried all the options,” Lucas suggested.  The way he seemed sincerely interested in this theme was fascinating. The boy clearly was a dreamer.

“Then I don’t envy him,” Eliott answered, and there was no need to look at Lucas to feel his confusion.  “If I’d chosen another path in the past, I could never meet you.” He lifted his head to look at the boy, who was now smiling at him fondly. Lucas leaned over to leave a kiss oh his lips. But Eliott didn’t let him go easily, having beaten his lower lip and deepened the kiss.  When their tongues touched Lucas groaned and Eliott grinned satisfied. “Can you imagine Eliott and Lucas who doesn’t have this moment right now?” He whispered in his mouth and Lucas shook his head slightly. Yeah, Eliott thought the same.

He grabbed Lucas’ back of the head and pulled him as close to himself as it was only possible. One Lucas’ hand was rushing through Eliott’s hair while another one found its way underneath Eliott’s t-shirt. As soon as his fingers touched Eliott’s bared skin an electric shock ran through his body, which was completely under Lucas control now. And there was no desire in them to talk anymore, they had some other things to do.

 “I still think that parallel universes can exist”.

When Lucas brought up the theme, which they successfully dropped nearly an hour ago, Eliott couldn’t hold his laugh. They were still lying on the bed but there were no t-shirts on them anymore. They were just an obstacle in their way of knowing each other better, and they had no other choice but to get rid of them. Lucas was lying on his stomach and Eliott used the boy’s back as a pillow for himself. He was running his fingers along Lucas’ soft skin, trying to memorize every line of his body and every mole that he had. He wished he had a pencil and paper to capture this moment, but he wasn’t ready to remove himself from the boy. Not yet.

“Ok. Share your thoughts.” Eliott put his chin on Lucas’ scapula, ready to hear everything that he wanted to say so much. And if that was important to Lucas, then it was important to Eliott too.

“When I have a choice to make I love thinking that there’re other Lucases in other parallel universes who took all the paths I couldn’t take. And when I have bad days, doubts or regrets I always remind myself that somewhere there’s another Lucas who’s happy and who’s living his best life at the moment. Sometimes it helps me to move forward and make other hard decisions which I need to make.”

“And did other Lucases meet me?” Eliott asked, enchanted by the dreamy Lucas’ face.

“Yeah. Some of them definitely did.” Lucas smiled, turning his head to look at Eliott. “Maybe, in another universe, you’re not a painter but musician.”

“I can hardly see that happening,” Eliott laughed. He was one hundred percent a tone-deaf person.

“Well, it’s another universe. Everything’s possible there,” Lucas was saying that as though he really believed in that theory. And Eliott wanted to hear more of that.

“And what else? Who else could we be?” He asked, and Lucas turned around carefully just for Eliott to lie on his chest. Lucas reached Eliott’s hair with his hand and began to play with them with his fingers.

“Well, we could be girls. Can you imagine that?” Lucas supposed and Eliott let out a laugh.

“That would be so cool, right?” He asked and Lucas nodded his head in agreement.

“You can be bald. Can you imagine yourself without your beautiful hair?” Eliott shook his head on it as the thought seemed too ridiculous for him. He would never get rid of his hair. “We also could live in every country. Norway, USA, Italy, Germany, Netherlands, Belgium, England, China, Brasilia…”

“Even in Russia?” Eliott’s interrupted Lucas and the boy shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“О да!” Eliott exclaimed, and Lucas has been clearly taken aback by his response. “Last summer I met a group of Russian tourists and when I heard them I decided that I want to know their language. So I learned a couple of phrases.” Of course, it wasn’t the whole story. Eliott’s been living through one of his episodes back then, and he couldn’t rest until he learned at least something. That was one of his stupid obsessions, which didn’t bring him anything useful at the end. As always.

“Then tell me something!” Lucas asked, looking at him with his big angelic blue eyes. If only Eliott could say «no» to them.

«Ты самое лучшее, что когда-либо случалось в моей жизни.” He whispered, taking a lock of Lucas’ hair off his face.

“And what does it mean?” Eliott expected to hear this question.

“I won’t tell.” He smiled playfully being perfectly aware of the reaction he would get.

“Oh, you can’t do that!” Lucas exclaimed indignantly.

“Oh, yeah, I can!” Eliott teased and before Lucas said anything, he pulled himself over and kissed him gently. And there was no resistance from Lucas’ side at all, as he answered the kiss straight away. A couple of seconds later they were lost to this world again.

 They were half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, leaning on the bed and sharing one joint. The room was filled with smoke and there was only their breathing which was heard in it. Lucas' head was lying on Eliott’s shoulder and Eliott buried himself in his soft hair. That was the most comfortable place in the whole world.

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” Lucas asked, having let out the smoke.

“Kind of, yeah,” Eliott answered, unwillingly pulling away from his hair and taking a joint in his hand. “But that was for my mother’s pleasure rather than mine. She was a very good friend of mine and it was convenient being with her, but with time I understood that wasn’t what I wanted at all.” He took a drag, having realized how much he missed that feeling.

“And what did you want?” Lucas asked and Eliott wanted to laugh because was it so necessary to answer it now? That was obvious.

“I didn’t know myself until the recent days,” he said and smiled. Lucas was smiling too now. That was the view he was ready to look at forever. “And what about you? Will I have to deal with some jealous exes in the future?” Eliott was sure that such beautiful boy as Lucas surely would have dozens of admirers.

“Well, I came out only a year ago, so I didn’t have a lot of time. I kind of had a crush on Yann for a while but that was before I understood what was going on here,” Lucas pointed to his head. “And then nobody really caught my eye before I came to a new school and saw you,” Lucas admitted.

“Was it hard for you to come out?” Eliott asked him, trying not to think too about much how flattered him Lucas’ words and how elated he was by them.

“I think it was harder to come to the moment of coming out rather than the process itself,” Lucas was talking, thinking about his every word. “Stupidly I made myself believe that me being gay was the end of the world and that it would change everything. I was scared that my family and my friends would turn their backs on me and that I would be left alone. Now I realize how dumb that was but I can't change anything, can I?”

“So everyone accepted you?” Eliott knew that he was ready to fight everybody who’d at least thought about hurting Lucas in that way.

“Yeah, it turned out that I was a lucky guy and that I have people who love me the way I am. Well… my father needed some time to process it but he’s gotten there at the end. My mother even told me that she always knew and that she was proud that I was finally ready to accept myself.” Lucas’ face shining with the smile, but still, there was something unmissable sad in his tone. Talks about mother clearly hurt him but that wasn’t only it. There was something else, Eliott could feel it but he had no courage to ask.

“And my parents were in shock when a five-year-old me said that I’d marry our seven-year-old neighbor one day. Leon was his name if I’m not mistaken. And in a month I was in love with Marlyn, and there were Claudia and George…”

“Oh, and here I thought I was special!” Lucas exclaimed in a jokey way. Eliott cracked up laughing.

“Yeah, I was a real heart-breaker back then.” He put his hand through Lucas’ hair, but still, he felt an urge to explain it. “I’ve already said that I always had troubles with feeling my parents’ love so I guess I was just trying to find it somewhere else. I was just a child who didn’t know what love was, so I came to the conclusion that I was falling in love every time somebody lied an eye on me. Is it pathetic?” It was important for him to know Lucas’ opinion.

“No, that’s sad for sure, but that’s not pathetic. But you still had some kind of love, didn’t you?” Lucas straightened up and looked at Eliott who didn’t really get what the boy meant. “I know that you are friends with  Emile, Sofiane and Idriss since the early days. Emile told me that. And it looks like you’re all really close.”

“Yeah, we are…” Eliott whispered as the guilt began taking over him. Emile was the topic they managed successfully avoid till this moment and Lucas was clearly acting without any intentions to make Eliott feel bad because of that but that happened anyway. And Lucas felt it straight away.

“Fuck! I’ve ruined everything, right?” He asked guilty and Eliott smiled at him gently and shook his head.

“That’s alright. You didn't mean to. And we can’t run from this theme forever,” Eliott answered wishing to erase Lucas’ feeling of guilt. That wasn’t his fault that Eliott turned out to be a pretty shit friend at the end. There was nothing he could do to change that.

“But we still can try to do it for tonight,” Lucas grabbed Eliott’s face and kissed him gently. “Agreed?” He asked, leaning his forehead to Eliott’s.

“Agreed,” Eliott gave his answer and in a minute his lips were on Lucas’ once again.

 «Why are you not sleeping?»

They were on the bed again, facing each other, sharing one air. Eliott’s lost count of time a long time ago, but when Lucas began dozing off from time to time he knew that it was already pretty late. And he loved just lying next to him, watching at the peaceful angel which life was so generous to give him. Just being near him was enough for Eliott to know that his heart has been stolen from him forever now and he would have done nothing to return it.

“You’re very beautiful when you sleep,” Eliott whispered, stroking him on the cheek lightly.

“You’re really that kind of guy, yeah? Romance and all that stuff,” Lucas murmured with a tiny dreamy smile on his face. Eliott couldn’t resist but touched the boy’s lips. He wanted to kiss him once again despite the fact that it was the only thing they were doing for the past couple of hours, but he decided against it eventually. The boy was tired.

“Only with you, I promise,” Eliott said and he meant that. There had been no one in his life who’s ever made him care so much. But with Lucas he wanted to be every second, support him, help him, be happy with him, and be sad with him. And to love him.

“Thank you,” Lucas suddenly pronounced and finally opened his sleepy eyes.

“For what?” Eliott could think of thousands of the reasons why he should have been thanking the boy and not the other way around.

“For choosing me,” he answered and Eliott was sure that he saw tears in his eyes.

“I guess I never had a choice.” That was the truth. All his denying was a simple waste of time.  “The minute I saw you I knew that I’m in deep troubles.”

“When I saw Emile’s face that morning and when it got to me what was happening I thought that I had no chance anymore,” Lucas said despite their promise not to bring up this topic that night. And for some reason, Elliott decided not to stop him. The tone of his voice hinted that it needed to be said. “First time in my life I felt a real attraction to someone and in a few days I thought that it was over before it even started just because someone felt something for me that I couldn’t control. That wasn’t fair. I felt like another good thing has been taken away from me and I couldn’t do anything to change it.”

“Like happened with your mother?” Eliott asked softly, Lucas nodded his head.

“I miss her,” he whispered, and Eliott could see a single tear running down his cheek. “After she was taken away I felt so lonely, there was a hole inside of my chest nothing could fill. No father, no friends. We had this special bond with her, she knew me like nobody in this world, and she understood, supported and accepted me. And suddenly that’s all gone. And then I meet this gorgeous guy, and I feel the connection once again, not the one I had with my mother, another one, but it wasn’t less important. And I’ve nearly lost it too…”

“But you haven’t! I’m here, aren’t I?” Eliott tried to cheer up the boy because his tears were tearing his heart apart.

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Lucas was looking straight at his eyes. “You can have troubles with your best friend.”

“Yesterday you gave me the advice to think about me and not him, didn’t you? ” Eliott noted carefully. Lucas’s mood obviously changed once again.

“Yeah, because I was selfish and I wanted you. But now I have you here, lying next to me and…”

“Are you trying to say that you’ve realized that you’re not interested anymore?” Eliott joked.

“Of course not!” Lucas was offended by the fact. “But I don’t want to be a trouble. I mean I maybe was a little bit pushy but I don’t’ want you to risk anything for me. I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize what a big mistake it was and that it was all my fault….”

“Stop! Stop it now!” Eliott pressed his finger to Lucas’s lips. He couldn’t listen to this anymore. “Tell me what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like that? Why are you saying such things?”

“It’s just… my mother has already realized that I wasn’t worth it. She doesn’t want to see me anymore,” Lucas breathed out and the tears run down his face.

“What?” Eliott was sure that he’s heard something wrong because the boy couldn’t have said that.

“When I came back for my things yesterday morning, my father was still at home and he was speaking with someone on the phone,” he was breathing heavily trying held his tears, which were uncontrollably streaming down his face anyway. “And I’ve heard… I’ve heard…” Lucas began to choke in his tears and Eliott felt the panic rushing through him, he didn’ know how to help. He didn’t know what to do. “That it was her decision not to see me. Not my father’s. She doesn’t want to see me anymore!” Lucas fixed his gaze on Eliott and a shiver run down his spine. “I don’t wanna be alone,” Lucas said quietly and that broke Eliott. He pulled him in his embrace and took him as strong as he could. Lucas didn’t hold up any more, he burst out crying and that was one the most heartbreaking things which Eliott ever lived through. He never felt so powerless.

“You have me,” he whispered him into his hair. “And I’m not going anywhere,” Eliott promised.  And that was the only thing he could do. He just wished it would be enough.

#skam france #my fics #crush and burn #elu fic

[thathalloweengal]

Christmas Eve at Wayne Manor (fanfic)

Bruce Wayne threw another log on the fire, it crackled angrily at him but its warmth soothed his weary bones. It was Christmas Eve and the newly renovated Wayne Manor had been decorated thoroughly, bright red and gold tinsel was draped from the oak staircase, a massive fern tree stood tall in the lounge and hundreds of tiny multicolored lights were hanging everywhere. The coffee table even had freshly baked cookies on it, still warm from the oven and spreading the smell of cinnamon throughout the house.

Bruce had one hell of a night, some idiot with powers called Gentleman Ghost decided to hold Mayor Grange and some city council members to ransom. When Bruce got the call it seemed like a cake walk but he didn't expect some damn councilman to be in on it. One maniac in a pig mask, two stab wounds and a pair of bruised ribs later, Bruce felt far older than he was. Ten years ago he would have been ready for them. The two newcomers to Gotham would have been taken down by what onlookers would only be able to describe as some kind of Bat demon, instead of that fifty year old playing dress up with kevlar.

"A dollar for your thoughts, Master Wayne?"

Not for the first time in his career, Alfred Pennyworth cut through Bruce's self criticism.

"Maybe when I was a kid, my thoughts are a little more expensive now"

"Damn inflation rates" Alfred sighed, sitting down in a nearby recliner and nursing a glass of what was probably cognac

"The guests should be arriving shortly" Alfred said after a moment

"Yeah they should be, you did a great job with all this by the way" Bruce nodded at the decorations and the tree

"Thank you sir, between being tactical support and stitching up near fatal wounds, I too believe that my calling lies in holiday planning"

"You didn't do it, did you?"

"Unfortunately I did not have the time but Mr. Allen thankfully stepped into my shoes"

"That kid's got a lot of heart" Bruce smiled

"Makes one remember brighter Christmases, doesn't it? I just wish he'd stop calling me Elfred"

"I always wanted you to have an irritating nickname" Bruce giggled

"Well bully for you sir, I suppose you are absolutely elated with Master Allen's choice for you?"

The look of confusion on Bruce's face prompted Alfred's reply "Bat Dad"

Bruce grimaced on the outside but deep down kept a slight warm feeling of contentment to himself, it had been a long time since anyone thought of him as a father figure.

"Any luck finding Curry?" Bruce asked

"Won't answer any communications but satellites have pinpointed him in a large stretch of ocean, near where the legendary city of Atlantis was once alleged to stand"

"More turkey for us" Bruce dismissed

A bolt of blue lightning sped into the room, carrying Barry Allen along it, he was wearing a sweater with a half eaten gingerbread man on it.

"Speaking of turkey, I don't know if you guys know this but I'm a vegetarian"

"Your dietary needs have already been catered for, Mr. Allen"

"You're awesome, Elfred"

Alfred rolled his eyes and took a long sip of cognac. Bruce decided to give his old friend a break from the young speedster by bringing back a Wayne family tradition.

"Barry, would you mind heading over to the cave and picking up the package beside the car?"

"The Batmobile?" Barry beamed

"The Batmobile" Bruce confirmed with a reassuring smile

Barry was gone in a flash, back into his blue lightning and out of the room. A few moments later he reappeared with a large crate as tall as he was, it had his lightning symbol on it.

"What is this?" Barry asked, slightly concerned

"Only one way to find out"

Barry raced around the crate, unbuckling straps and somehow removing screws, before finally removing the cover. Inside was a new costume, something that Bruce had his company create as a gift to Barry. Its design was much more refined than the current costume and had cutting edge Wayne Tech inside.

"Early present" Bruce explained

In the blink of an eye, Barry changed into the costume. It looked impressive on him, more like high tech armor than something someone had lovingly thrown together from NASA's dumpster. It's finish was a darker shade of red than Barry had previously sported and small holographic displays were already updating him on crimes around the city.

"Holy crap, this is so cool"

Barry superspeeded Bruce into a hug before saying something that sounded like:

"I'mGonnaTakeItForATestRunThanksBatDad"

Another blink and the blue lightning had once more carried Barry out of the room and through the front doors. Alfred smirked.

"That should keep him busy for at least a few minutes"

"Been getting under your feet?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, you are aware that he moved in upstairs?"

"Who do you think gave him the room"

Alfred chuckled a little before becoming a little more reserved.

"Does he know about the..."

Bruce cut Alfred off, immediately shaking his head, a matter of importance lay in the air between them.

"I wanted everyone to know" Bruce said softly "I'll tell them tonight"

Three knocks at the front door cut through their conversation.

"More of your unruly children, I think" Alfred grinned

Bruce got to his feet as Alfred topped up his cognac with a bottle from a nearby cabinet. Bruce pulled a massive door open to be greeted by a gust of cold wind, Clark Kent, Martha Kent and Lois Lane. Bruce took their coats and led them over to a sofa. He poured Lois and Martha drinks from the cabinet, Clark asked if he could get some hot cocoa instead, which Alfred kindly obliged, rising from his recliner and making his way into the kitchen.

"How's Perry doing?" Bruce asked, Lois and Clark's boss was an old acquaintance of his

"Same as always this time of year" Lois answered, taking a sip of her beverage "Santa hat on, singing Christmas songs older than the building, it's adorable"

"He's also very generous" Martha added

"But only to this one" Lois squeezed Clark's hand "He got the highest bonus that Perry has ever given anyone"

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Clark blushed.

"I don't think our cover story of how Clark Kent and Superman died around the same time and came back around the same time but definitely aren't the same person washes with Perry"

"He's too good of a reporter" Bruce replied

"We talking about the same Perry White that buries stories because they're too quote un quote invigorating for our readers" Clark spoke up

"Well he used to be a good reporter" Bruce said sheepishly "He rumbled me as the Bat a couple of days after he met me for an interview"

"How did you handle that?"

"Ever wonder how the Planet stays afloat despite hemorrhaging subscriptions and sales?"

The two reporters froze, no doubt wondering if Perry was blackmailing him or if Bruce was lying. It was unlikely that they knew they were talking to the secret owner of the Daily Planet.

Another knock to the door provided Bruce with the perfect moment to leave the three. Opening the door, once more, he found Diana arm in arm with a woman who must've been at least seven feet tall, they were both wearing stunning dresses. Bruce showed them inside and over to the Kents. Diana explained that her companion was called Mala, she was an Amazon and had just been exiled from their Island. They went back a very long time together and were now picking up their relationship.

Bruce had never seen Diana so happy, she was absolutely gleaming with joy, holding her partner's hand and joining in with the rest of them laughing at Clark's hot cocoa mustache.

A flash of blue lightning returned to the room, dropping off Victor Stone and Victor's father Silas.

"Look who I found outside" Barry announced, trying to hide his broken holographic displays and partially destroyed costume from Bruce

With one more flash, Barry changed back into his gingerbread man sweater and jeans. Bruce made a mental note to ask him about his misadventure later, but for the time being simply hugged Victor and shook Silas's hand, before pouring them out drinks.

The holiday party started well enough, Barry and Victor were talking about video games, Lois and Clark were sharing incredible "How we met" stories with Diana and Mala, and the sounds of jingle bell rock played throughout the old house. Bruce hadn't seen it this alive and full of love since his parents were there.

Bruce felt himself slipping into the past, he could almost hear his father telling him that he could open one present early. Feeling a little overcome with emotion, Bruce put on his coat and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and to calm his nerves.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to be back inside, be with this new family he had helped create, but he knew that he would have to leave them soon enough. Why prolong the inevitable. Over the last five years, he had been through a lot, both mentally and physically. Jason's death, the fallout from the battle of Metropolis, his obsessive crusade against Clark and all of the guilt that followed after. Even helping to kill monsters like Luthor's creature and Steppenwolf didn't alleviate the demons and the damage inside Bruce.

The situation was made even worse by the fact that In the last couple of years Bruce found himself having nightmares, very real feeling nightmares. They'd always start differently, sometimes on a ruined Earth with soldiers wearing Superman's symbol, other times in an alley with Bruce himself snapping the Joker's neck. These dreams would have him being captured or buried alive or even breathing in the Joker's poison. They always ended the same way, regardless of if it was Clark, Joker or some mad man claiming to be his own father, Bruce would always be too slow, too beat up, too arrogant, Bruce always died.

Before he woke from these dreams though, Bruce would have a vision of Barry. Not the Barry currently in Wayne Manor, dancing terribly to the music of George Michael but an older, more tired looking Barry. He always gave advice and warnings before leaving. Advice that had helped calm Clark when he was brought back to life. He told Bruce that Lois was the key, had he not done that, Bruce expected things would have gone much worse than they did. Occasionally Barry yelled about being in the middle of a Crisis, about needing to correct something called a fractured timeline and told Bruce to be prepared for worse days to come.

These dreams and every night he patrolled Gotham convinced Bruce that he was seriously incapable of dealing with whatever the future held. Tomorrow as his friends celebrated, he would be on a plane to a city called Nanda Parbat, where he would seek the mythical Lazarus Pit it was infamous for. He hoped that it could heal his body and purge his soul of the pain that weighed him down.

Most people who looked for the Pit died climbing the mountain that hid the city, those who survived disappeared, never to be heard from again. That didn't put Bruce off however, he had inside information that the Pit lay somewhere within the palace of the Sensai, the ancient leader of Nanda Parbat. Bruce's only problems were getting to it through an entire league of assassins and any side effects the Pit might cause him. The only person he knew who had done this before wasn't exactly the picture of sanity, of course neither was Bruce.

"Only you would brood at Christmas" teased a voice approaching him through the snow

Holding a small stack of presents, Commissioner Jim Gordon smiled comfortingly at Bruce.

"Sorry I'm late, some damn fool decided to save the Mayor and tie me up in paperwork and reporters"

"Sounds like a real hero type" Bruce replied "A billionaire playboy like myself wouldn't know anything about that"

Bruce couldn't keep a straight face, Bruce and Jim embraced and kissed. His lips were chapped and he tasted of tobacco but it was Bruce's favorite feeling. When they seperated, Jim looked like something was troubling him.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked

"I was just wondering, will this be the last time we do that?"

"Hopefully not" Bruce said playfully but Jim looked somber

"I know that you have to go, that for you to stay fighting in a world of super crazies you need this elixir of mumbo jumbo, but I worry"

"That I'll come back different?"

"That you won't come back at all" Jim said, sadly "Bruce I care about you, I don't want you to end up dead in some snowy hell hole"

"Good thing I'm Batman then" Bruce said, taking Jim's hand in his own "One thing you can count on in Gotham, even a small time crook could tell you, when Jim Gordon stands on top of Police HQ and lights that big Signal up, the Batman comes running, might take him a while to get there but he'll always show up"

Jim looked like he was trying to suppress a smile but it quickly broke through.

"What will we do without you?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll cope for a while but just in case I did ask Dick to look in on you from time to time"

"You two are talking again?"

"I know it's a Christmas miracle" Bruce chuckled

"I'll keep your damn oversized nightlight running" Jim agreed "Might scare some superstitious cowards"

Hearing a commotion inside, Bruce and Jim glanced through one of the windows. Barry had supersped an Elf hat onto a sleeping Alfred, Diana was dancing with Martha Kent and Clark and Victor were playing Twister, though Bruce wasn't sure who brought it, Mala and Lois were refereeing.

"You going in?" Jim asked "I've always wanted to meet Superman" he grinned cheekily

"Only if you're my plus one" Bruce said, more cheesily than he had originally hoped

Bruce walked back into Wayne Manor, Jim close by his side. Bruce had no idea what Nanda Parbat would do to him but for now at least he was content sipping tea, giving presents and sharing this night with the people he cared for most.  

#Batman #Bruce Wayne #Christmas Eve #Barry Allen #The Flash #Alfred Pennyworth #Christmas #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Superman #Wonder Woman #Jim Gordon

[whathelluci]

Seven Minutes in Heavenly Morning

Summary: The first time they sleep together, it’s not how they imagined it would be. Post 2x13 AU where they didn’t find out that Chloe is a miracle (for less drama cause apparently i’m still salty about what-might-have-beens)

You can also read it at AO3

Word Count: 3k+

Rating: T for slight smut and language

AN: This took me and my lazy procrastinating ass forever but I did it. My first 1k+ word count and first time writing a bit of smut. Please let me know how I did!

It’s rare for Chloe to sleep in, being a hardworking mother with a job, even on her occasional day offs. And in this quiet morning it feels like she just had the best dreamless sleep she’s had in a long time.

But years of routine woke her into consciousness. Half her brain drowsily reminds her to get ready for work, but Chloe uncharacteristically resists, giving herself a couple more minutes and nestles in deeper in her bed. Her wonderfully warm bed… that is breathing in and out under her…?

Her eyes slowly open, a bit disoriented when she doesn’t sense the familiarity of her bedroom. She’s actually in the living room, lying on the couch, with –

Lucifer.

Her memory fits the puzzles into place of last night. Trixie was at a sleepover with a friend. Maze’s bounty-hunting kept her busy and away. She had the apartment to herself and the elation of solving a case with Lucifer hadn’t subsided so she invited him in.

In all honesty, Chloe had hoped they would end the night in her bedroom. She and Lucifer had been stoking the flames going on between them. She would flirt headfirst, his reaction turning in shocked disbelief then eventually in delight and respond in kind. He quickly caught on to her motives, not having to use his mojo game when she’s practically being so obvious. It didn’t go as she hoped for when he teased with her emotions, leaning into her personal space, lips a breath too far, the lust in his eyes drilling a hole in her head, then backed off leaving her frustrated. She supposed it was a bit of payback for all the times she rejected him.  But Chloe was not having it, not when she finally wants him in return. 

So during a case she raised her chin up, glared at the Devil in the eye and wagered for a kiss if she gets to catch the killer first. Lucifer accepted but he kept looking at her weirdly the whole time, eyes a thousand miles away. He may have been holding back and letting her win but sprang into action at the last minute out of nowhere and caught the suspect by the throat. After that he escorted her home, with them bantering back and forth on who actually won, which didn’t matter in the end when Lucifer still ravaged her mouth that left them both breathless. 

He stopped there despite her whined protest. “Darling, you’re being quite the sore loser. You lost and I still gave you a delectably generous kiss for free. I don’t think I heard you wagering anything more than that.” he teased, eyeing her ruffled hair and swollen lips. 

He didn’t look any better, or, he even looked more ravishing than ever, the smug bastard.

She looks up at the man in question. His unkept hair showing his adorable curls, lips thin and pink. In all there time together, Chloe has seen Lucifer in a whirlwind of emotions: with shameless flirtation, with uncontrollable fury, with exuberant glee in his eyes making him look young and immature for his age, then with haunted sorrow from experiences of the past that makes him look too ancient. And in their moments where he seems to allow himself, accepting to be vulnerable around her, with her, looking at her wonderstruck.

Unfortunately, they never made it even remotely close to the bedroom. Lucifer got distracted peeking around her stuff and found her old movie collection and gleefully insisted they watch it together. And there they were on the couch, snacking on popcorn and Cool Ranch Puffs, Lucifer’s commentaries had her laughing her head off until they both had to lean on each other, sides aching.

Chloe couldn’t remember how they ended up like this: with her practically on top of him, head nestled on his chest. Lucifer’s tall form couldn’t accommodate into the length of the couch so his knees were bent up, their legs tangled. His one arm around her waist holding her close, the other pillowing his head; his body is unnaturally warm keeping her comfortably toasted from the cool room temperature.

And this one she suspects no one has took the time to appreciate, the serenity of sleep in his face, free from the weight of everything, and he’s absolutely breathtaking. Chloe wishes he could be like this more often, no walls or masks, and hopes one day he would finally trust her enough to let her in. 

She commits him to memory and lies back down again to hear his heartbeat in her ear, her growing desire to bask in the morning with him fighting against her practicality to get the day started, but Lucifer is already stirring awake under her, unconsciously rubbing her back up and down and Chloe tries her best not to purr. 

She meets his eyes when they blear open and she is stunned motionless by the unguarded way he’s looking at her. Her heart starts racing violently, this did not go the way she had imagined. Chloe had planned to rip his shirt off and drag him to bed and have raging hot sex with him and instead they’re sleeping intimately on the couch still fully clothed and he’s looking at her the way a serious boyfriend would look at his girlfriend in the morning and she’s still not sure that he would consider having a monogamous relationship with anyone, particularly with her.

Lucifer doesn’t take notice on her internal monologue freak-out and seems to snap out of it. He confusingly looks around the apartment and settles back to her, eyes caught in headlights.

“I, um… good morning?” His voice is rough with sleep, chest rumbling under her.  

“Good morning.”

“Uh, how did we…?” His stuttering grounds her back and makes her grin.

“We fell asleep.”

“Well, that’s evident considering our current… predicament.” 

Chloe hums, she places her palms on his chest to rest her chin on. He’s incredibly flustered and it’s adorable. He still looks uncomfortably confused she thinks there’s more to it than accidentally falling asleep together.

“This doesn’t usually happen…”

“What, waking up with a woman on a couch? I bet you’ve done that loads of times.” She tries to keep her tone light. In another time, she was used to him being intimate with other people, but now it has her stomach growl for territory.

“Yes, but, you know, I slept with them. But I have never… slept with them.” For a suave club owner who could make girls swoons with just the way of his words, he can’t find them right now, but she finally gets it.

“Oh.”

Chloe probably would never solve all the mysteries of Lucifer Morningstar, the details of his past he could never hope to outrun no matter how hard he tries, the secrets he shares with his therapist that he might never tell her, which she tries to convince herself that it’s fine. She’s already accepted all of him. She can relate of not ever wanting to talk about painful histories, but she takes every moment to let him know that she’s there for him. But he avoids them with excessive partying, drinking, sex and women.  

She likes to think that Lucifer working with the LAPD is doing him good, that it’s his way of fighting against the demons in his head, though they’ll never really be gone. And she likes to think, hopes, that with the new friends he made: Linda, Ella, even Dan, her, is helping him find home here in Los Angeles when it seems like he didn’t have it with his family.

And lately, he’s gravitating closer to her. Chloe thinks about her earlier thoughts about him doing monogamy. He’s had sex with a lot of people but never actually had any emotional intimacy with them. Then it’s the complete opposite when it comes with her, ‘Granny Panties Decker’ Maze likes to call her. She and Lucifer had several of their so-called moments, but they haven’t had sex… yet. 

The thing between them, what they have, maybe it’s a first for him. 

As she’s contemplating all of this, he’s still staring at her with uncertainty, in silent desperation to hold on to her, unsteady. He’s completely out of his element. And Chloe gazes back to her partner who has come to be her best friend and knows they’ll make it as long as they have each other’s back. She thinks of comfort and company and silly tunes of Heart and Soul, nostalgic sandwiches and wet tears in expensive shirts from hugs, burgers and fries, calming waves and worthy partners, heart monitors and warm hands and reassurances of you and I, surprise glad-you’re-not-dead dinners and soft brown eyes and I’m-so-glad-you’re-okay kisses.

In some ways, this is a first for her, too.

And she’s looking forward in figuring it out with him.

Chloe consoles him with a smile, she’s kept him waiting long enough. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

She’s gotten pretty good at reading him now. And ever since there was the mere concept of them his reaction is always the same, with completed disbelief, as if with all his attempts to seduce her he’d gotten used to getting a no from her. And now he stares at her with that look again, like he’s never met a woman like her before, lips widening to a grin and eyes sparkling. And every time the butterflies in her stomach multiplies and makes her want to kiss him.

She’s already leaning towards him, noses touching, but he suddenly tenses up and stops her. “Right, not that I don’t enjoy ‘sleeping’ with you, shouldn’t we get up and get ready for work?”

Chloe blinks. The euphoria in her chest deflates. Right. They have to get to work, and she has to pick Trixie up from school later. They’ve already wasted a bit of time just lying here. And for Lucifer to suggest that instead of they get to a more comfortable sleeping arrangement like in her bed. Really, it’s like he’s avoiding having sex with her.

She huffs getting up, stretching her stiff limbs when Lucifer grunts under her. She’s about to ask when she feels her leg brushes up against his…oh. Oh shit.

Lucifer tightly shuts his eyes as he grips her hips to stop her, either from moving away or getting closer, she can’t tell. 

It’s just one slide away to sitting directly on top of him. Chloe smirks. For once, she has the upper hand, and moves to join them together where they’re both aching, and grinds down. Even still fully clothed, they gasp at the friction.

“Shouldn’t we take care of this first?” she teases, rubbing his chest, his stomach.

“Nope. I’m fine.” he says through gritted teeth.

“Really? Because it feels like you’re having a hard time down there.” Chloe keeps her hips moving, both pulsing against each other.

Lucifer glares up at her, irises darkened with lust. “Ooh, you naughty little minx.” he growls through his teeth.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle it?” she gloats. She’s loving her control over him. But it’s short-lived when his gaze turns feral.  

Lucifer sits up so fast, gluing their fronts together, he pushes her hips down while raising his, causing harder friction. Chloe moans, clawing his back.

“Is that another wager, darling?” he blows hot breath in her ear. She shudders at the endearment. “I think I have half a mind of taking you right here on this bloody couch for a round or three and then we’ll see who couldn’t handle it.”

He suddenly stops their movements. “But I’m not going to do that.”

Chloe furrows her brows. Is he seriously going to leave her like this? But he keeps going.

Lucifer pulls back to touch their foreheads together, the hunger in his eyes is still there, but there’s a soft brown that shakes her like thunder.

“When I finally get to have you, what I plan to do with you, I want to take my precious time getting to know all of you…” He slips his hands under her shirt.

“I want to have all the time in the world getting to know every freckle, every scar…” 

His voice turns deep and gravelly. Heat radiates from his touch as he reaches up to caress her shoulder where her bullet scar is. She in turn unconsciously places her palms gently on his back, just between his shoulder blades, but neither notices.

“Every sweet spot that makes you sing…”

Each word has her losing oxygen in her lungs. Dropping his head down to her neck, he sinks his teeth in. Chloe gasps.

The Devil whispers temptation and sin in her ear.

“Scream.”

He flips them over so she’s the one resting on the cushions with him directly above her. He then proceeds to kiss the living daylights out of her, and Chloe eagerly returns it. She cups his face in her hands as their lips glide. His kisses are intoxicating. Her body is buzzing with pleasure, she clenches her thighs around his waist to have him closer.

Their tongues slide so deliciously against each other that she doesn’t feel Lucifer popping her pants open. Sliding a hand in, slipping past her underwear, he finally touches her where she’s aching.

Chloe breaks their kiss to cry out. Head tilted back, Lucifer sucks on her exposed neck. She pants at the stimulation, gripping him tight. She grinds on his fingers, needing more.

Lucifer lifts his lips up to whisper more in her ear, asking her how she wants it, but she just moans, his voice melting her. Taking that as an answer, he puts two fingers in.

She muffles her scream in his shoulder, but he softly grips her hair to pull her back and looks her in the eye. “I want to hear you.” he whispers. She can’t help but whimper when his fingers move in and out faster, her legs shaking. He starts grinding himself on her pelvis and his thumb rubs her, hard.

He starts talking again, but she can’t focus on anything else but the pleasure he’s giving her. She’s so close. Then, one word registers to her mind, she hears her name on his lips. 

“Chloe.” 

And that’s it. Her back arches as she screams his name. Explosions bursts behind her eyes. His fingers keep going as he prolongs her climax. She whimpers and grips his shirt and he lets her cover her face in his chest, catching her breath.     

Chloe looks up to see Lucifer raising his palm to his mouth, licking off the wetness while staring at her with the most sexual gaze and she fucking swears she’s already wet again.

“And that was just a little teaser, love. Just wait for the main event when I finally get to have you in so many ways you will scream your throat bloody raw.”

Her body shivers in anticipation. He’s already figured out that whispering dirty promises in her ear and calling her nicknames turns her on.

“And that’s not even the best part. You get to top me anytime you want.”

At that, her mind replays a faded memory, a fantasy of passion on top of a piano, on a different couch, dragging down a devilish man by his horns.

Lucifer grabs her waist and lifts them both up to stand, she holds on to him her legs shaking from her high. They’re both a mess, clothes wrinkled and hair sticking out all over the place, his curls more prominent. He buttons her pants back in place, she flushes when his fingers brush her stomach, and straightens down her shirt. Now that they finally unstuck themselves from the couch, Chloe doesn’t want to let go of him just yet. Mind slightly cleared, she sees the tent in his pants is still there. She was so caught up with him pleasuring her with just his mouth and fingers that he didn’t get to relieve himself.

“Um, shouldn’t we…?” Minutes ago she was teasing him about it, now she’s suddenly shy.

He peers down at her, mischief in his eyes. She had figured a long time ago nothing ever comes good with that look. He holds her chin up and caresses her bottom lip with his thumb. It’s still moist.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something, love.”

Chloe shudders.

Some time later, she’s eating the omelet Lucifer has cooked for her while she took a shower (“It’ll be more fun if we shower together.” “How original, Detective.”), feeling refreshed wearing clean clothes. It doesn’t say the same for her partner. Lucifer had declined using her bathroom (“It’s not like I haven’t done the walk of shame, darling.”), opting to freshen up back at his place after they have breakfast together.

Speaking of, he’s eating across from her and she’s tries to take short peeks at him when she thinks he’s not looking. Lucifer casually cooking and having breakfast with her, that’s what usually couples do. It’s possibly the most normal thing they ever done together.

“You want some orange juice?”

“I think I’ve rejuvenated myself with some intoxicating juice earlier, love.” he says with a wink. He bites down his omelet showcasing his teeth without breaking eye contact. He chuckles when her face burns red.

Chloe’s halfway thinking of getting back at him by trailing her foot up his leg under the table and work him back up again when they hear the door open and close with a slam and Maze walks in.

“Maze!” Lucifer exclaims.

Chloe flops her foot back down, not feeling the same sentiment as she slumps down in her seat. The little bubble of just her and Lucifer popped too early for her before he even left.

“Hey, Maze.” she says feebly.

Maze is wearing her usual suggestive leather get-up when she stops short when she sees them, eyes flicking between them. Her eyebrows furrow and a frown starts to appear on her lips.

Lucifer doesn’t notice her silence and continues on. “So, how was your nightly hunt? I’d love to know how you caught your wretched bounty this time.”

Maze doesn’t answer, still scrutinizing them both. Though Lucifer groomed himself he’s still in his wrinkled suit and Chloe wonders if Maze is already figuring out why he’s here so early in the morning. She finally settles to glare at him.

“You. Out.”

“What?!” Chloe and Lucifer asks.

She doesn’t take her eyes off him. “You heard me.”

Lucifer sputters. “But – but I haven’t finished my omelet -”

“I don’t care. Out. Or I’ll make you.”

But Maze is already gripping his elbow and bodily drags him out of his chair and to the door with unbelievable strength and speed. Lucifer can’t do anything but helplessly look back at Chloe. She rushes to them, but Maze already has him out of the apartment and slams the door on his face.

“Maze.” Chloe chides her. There was a muffled “Mazikeen!” behind the door. Maze just shrugs and leaves them.

Chloe sighs and opens the door. She sees Lucifer fixing himself as best as he can, sighing as well.

“Well, it’s no fun anymore when a demon spoils the morning,” he mutters, but looks up to smile at her anyway. “Raincheck, darling?”

She pouts. “I’ll see you later, then?” she asks hopefully, reaching for his arm and then thinks, of course she will, they work together. She’s just being clingy after being so close to him the whole night.

He grins wider and grasps her back. “Tall non-fat almond milk latte with sugar-free caramel drizzle.”

“And no vodka this time.” she playfully reminds him.

“No promises.” he retorts back.

She giggles. They both lean at the same time for a kiss. Chloe smiles into it, heart fluttering. The last touch between them is the tips of their fingers.

She watches him go until he’s out of sight, the atmosphere suddenly feels empty. Cold. She shakes her head and closes the door and turns back to the kitchen to see Maze in Lucifer’s previous spot eating the rest of his omelet. She’s staring at her.

“How was it?” Maze asks, mouth full.

“How was what?” Chloe asks back. She drinks her coffee, already knowing where this is going.

“I think you know what I mean, Decker.”

“I think I don’t know what you think you mean, Maze.”

“You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

“And what gave you that idea?”

Maze rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Please, I don’t have to be a detective to figure out that Lucifer slept the night here, Decker, he looked like a fucking rat’s nest. I can analyze post-sex better than you do at a crime scene. Not to mention, don’t think I missed you playing footsie when I came in. And it’s not a coincidence that you’re wearing a turtleneck of all days to hide, I don’t know, a hickey, maybe?”  

The more Maze listed off the deeper Chloe lowers her face behind her mug, cheeks burning.

“But that’s not just it, isn’t it?” Maze leaned over the table to squint at her. “You’re still sexually frustrated. Which means he just left you with enough satisfaction but he never did the deed and finally put his dick in your pussy. Or up your ass.”

“Maze!” Chloe says automatically, but there’s no eight-year-old kid around to hear it.

Maze just smirks. “Am I right or am I right?”

How Maze could know all that she doesn’t want to know. Chloe could just deny it more or say it’s none of her business, but she’d been so frustrated the last two weeks of Lucifer leaving her hanging.

She hangs her head and sighs deeply. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Fingers or tongue?”

“I am not going to answer that, Maze.”

She shrugs and leans back, taking another mouthful. “It’s not like him, though. Seriously, he stopped bringing strippers over to his place. I don’t get why he hasn’t boned you ‘til you can’t walk your way to work.”

Chloe silently agrees and thinks about his promise earlier and wonders when he’ll get to it.

She’s about to leave when her phone buzzes and sees a text from Lucifer.

I had a wonderful time ‘sleeping’ with you, Detective. I have better ‘sleeping’ arrangements at my penthouse the next time you want to get more cuddly with me. I have no qualms of you screaming my roof off. No one to interrupt us this time. It’ll be just you and me. ‘Sleeping’ together.

The text ends with a devil emoji. Chloe can’t help but laugh at his quotations, shaking her head. Her heart jumps in elation.

“I wanna hear all about it!” Maze calls.

Probably not, but Chloe sends her a smile over her shoulder anyway. She closes the door and heads over to her car, debating the whole way whether or not she’ll reply if she and Lucifer could do it on a weekend.  

#lucifer #lucifer fox #deckerstar #deckerstar ff #deckerstar fanfiction #lucifer ff #lucifer fanfiction #my writing

[pen-masta]

Let’s Play Pretend Part 4

[Prologue]  1   2   3   4  5 

As they walk down the sidewalk to the festival with their hands intertwined swinging between them, his heart is racing as if he were running a marathon. His mind has been a whirlpool of worries, anxieties, and an infinite amount of horrendous imaginary scenarios which all have the probability of one in quadrillion chance of happening. 

Joy is smiling and swinging their arms as she skips and hums along to a clumsy version of…well he can’t really recognize what she’s humming. She is so excited and relaxed and calm, everything he’s not. She doesn’t see the risk in this game they are about to play, this ruse, this this facade they are about to put on. No, she just sees it as another one of her drama club plays. It was actually quite comical getting ready this morning. Listening to her plan out her “character”.

“Joy you’re just you,” he chuckled as he made them coffee.

“But what is my motivation?” She smirked putting her earrings in.

He smiled, “Um…you’re a pretend girlfriend…?”

“Where am I from? Am I foreign?”

“Joy come on now,” he shook his head filling two mugs with the hot brown lava. “You’re just you.”

“These are legitimate questions that an actor must ask before a performance,” she deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, “Alright well you are going to school in Georgia, you are an art student and your name is Joy.”

“Can I be foreign?” She beamed and bounced on her toes, “I’ve always wanted to have an accent!”

“You don’t do accents well Jo-jo,” he grinned and took out the coffee creamer from the fridge. “And plus Nathan already met you, don’t you think it’d raise some questions if you suddenly changed nationalities?”

“You’re looking too much into it Cassie,” she waved her hand dismissively before her eyes grew wide. “Ooooo! What if I had an French accent!”

“Why french?” 

“I’ve always loved the way your mom sounded with her french accent,” Joy sais thoughtfully. “And plus you speak french so we could say that’s what started the conversation!”

He gave her a puzzled look to which she huffed and rolled her eyes, “Common ground Cassie.”

“Joy no you are you,” he said firmly.

“But I can do it! I even know the slang!” She smiled, “Oui Oui mon mo-i-tee.” She said butchering the word in a horrendous french accent that made his skin crawl.

“Mon moitié,” he corrected.

“It es a beautiful mec out today.”

“You’re not using mec correctly,” he smirked. “And it’s est not es.”

“Un patin es charmantee!” She said passionately

He snorted, “It’s esta, the word is charmant, and I’m positive you have no idea what un patin means.”

“Je pe-x par-lor fran-say,” she said and flipped her short hair with her hand.

“Ok I know you have absolutely no idea what you are saying, nor how to properly pronounce the words. You are murdering the language with a somewhat french accent so you can sound like you know french,” he smiled at her. “Give it up kid.”

She narrowed her eyes and pouted, “You’re crushing my creativity.”

He rolled his eyes, “Jo-jo I’m nervous enough for this as it is,” his smile faded. “I need to know you’ll take this seriously.”

Her mock irritation melted as she frowned, “Cassie I am taking this seriously.” She put her hand on his on the table, “I was just trying to lighten the mood was all.”

He smiled a little and squeezed her hand, which caused her lips to curl upward. She squeezed his hand back to reassure him that she was on his side.

“Just keep it simple, please?” He asked

She smiled, “I promise with KISS.” When he gave her a puzzled look she followed up with, “KISS, Keep It Simple Silly.

He laughed and relaxed into her reassurance that they’d make it through today as a bonafide couple.

But that reassurance is fading fast as they grow closer to the park.

His stomach is in knots, the rationale part of him is not wanting to do this at all. Rationale Castel is screaming all kinds of red alerts and warnings, seeing how this could conclude in life-ending flames. However, Irrational Castel has a much louder voice right now and is yelling over all of Rationale Castel’s thoughts about how he could finally put an end to the humiliating set ups. It’s funny how Irrational Castel has the voice of a mouse compared to Rationale Castel when he’s alone, but as soon as Joy appears it’s as though Irrational Castel has downed seven cups of espresso and ten pounds of sugar. Irrational Castel suddenly is like a ten-year-old with ADHD and the vocal chords of a megaphone that drowns out Rationale Castel’s hollow attempts to bring some common sense into the picture.

R.C, we really shouldn’t do this

I.C. but it’ll be fun!

R.C, but this could end very badly

I.C, but it’ll be fun!

R.C, this is a terrible plan!!

I.C, but hear me out though…it’ll be fun!

Gosh, she really brings out a wild side in him.

Although they disagree on just about everything there is one thing R.C and I.C can agree on. Joy’s ideas--no matter how outrageous, unattainable, illogical, crazy, and ill advised they may be--are what make up some of the best memories he has.

As they near the entrance to the local park his blood tingles under his skin as the pressure from his anxieties builds up. But all that he needs is to see the shocked speechless expression on Autumn’s face and suddenly his anxieties and worries are put on mute. Confidence and pride and maybe a little smugness floods his body ‘til it reaches the overflowing point. His posture changes as soon as he sees Autumn’s flabbergasted face, his shoulders square, his back straightens, and his chest puffs out as he walks with a sense of status.

He’s so confident that he even breaks their hand holding and opts to wrap his arm around Joy’s waist pulling her flush to his side. Is he smiling? Well he has to admit Joy does have this confident effect on him. Perhaps that’s because he knows he doesn’t have to impress her, he’s got nothing to prove when he’s with her. She knows him and she loves who he is, he’s at ease around her cause he can be himself totally and completely.

Joy glances at him as her smile grows and she follows his lead by wrapping her arm around him and slipping her hand into his back pocket. If he had one word to describe the odd look in Autumn’s eyes it’d be: combustion.

“Little hi little low,” Joy greets cheerfully.

“Little hey little ho,” Nathan chuckles.

Autumn gives him a queer look, but Joy is elated that he not only got the Stuart Little reference but he completed the greeting.

Catsel fist bumps his roommate and smiles at Autumn–not really because he’s happy to see her, but because he is loving the look on her face. Her mouth hangs open slightly, her one brow is quirked, and her expression looks crossed between confusion, disbelief, and a burning flame of…well he’s not sure what. But right now he doesn’t care, time to get back at her for all those ghastly dates without his consent.

“Good to see ya Autumn,” he says without a single sense of nerves in his voice.

Autumn shakes her head and smiles, “You too Cas.” Her eyes shift to Joy, “This must be Joy. Nathan’s told me about you.”

“And you’re Fall!” Joy says with glee and rapidly shakes Autumn’s hand, “Cassie’s told me lots about you!”

Autumn blinks, “It’s Autumn.”

“To some people,” Joy shrugs, “but other’s use Fall it’s faster. But pretty either way.”

It takes Castel every ounce of self-control he can muster to not laugh. He can’t tell if Joy is just being herself or she’s trying to aggravate Autumn with the subtle offhanded comment…probably a mix of the two he concludes.

Autumn blinks again before shaking her head, “Alrighty then…uh…shall we?” She asks turning to Nathan.

“I’m all set,” Nathan smiles taking her hand.

“Onward to adventure!” Joy howls and thrusts her fist into the air

“Adventure!” Castel echos and throws his fist in the air as well.

They both giggle and race each other through the park’s gate with Nathan and Autumn in tow. Perhaps today will be easier than he thought.

============

The festival is more of a mini-carnival or at least that’s how Castel would describe it. Food carts, game booths, marketing tents, street performers, even some rides fill the park. At the center of it all is a big stage sits between two oak trees, with as enormous white sheet cascading down from the branches of the trees. That must be where the movie will be shown later this evening.

Castel smiles as Joy pulls him along as they jog down the green grass.

“This is so cool!” She squeaks and beams at him, “What should we do first?”

“We could play a game,” Nathan suggests from behind them.

“A game sounds fun!” Joy nods and points to a booth, “Let’s go to that one!”

Soon the four are standing in front of the milk-bottle booth. Nathan pays for three baseballs and takes a chance throwing the three balls knocking down the bottle tower. Autumn grins as she picks a big stuffed dolphin from the rack. Joy bounces eagerly beside Castel.

“Which one do you want Jo-jo?” He asks and digs a dollar out of his wallet

Joy taps her chin humming thoughtfully as she scans the rack of stuffed animals. Her eyes light up as she points to a giant stuffed panda bear.

“That one!”

Castel smirks, “Alrighty. Hey you know Zack taught me the trick to these games.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods, “Yeah you aim for the carni’s head and take the prize while he’s unconscious.”

Joy and Nathan snort, Autumn rolls her eyes and the carni eyes Castel with a cautious expression. It looks like he’s trying to decide if he really wants to take Castel’s dollar or tell the kid to take a hike.

Castel smiles and holds his hands up in defense, “Only kidding Sir, only kidding.”

The guy gives a gruff huff and opts to take the dollar in exchange for three balls, but he does stand far enough off to the side so he’s not in the line of fire.

Joy giggles and Castel smiles as he aims for the bottle tower. He misses…terribly!

Joy doesn’t hold back the bark of laughter as Castel blushes. He was not an athlete but he’s was sure he’d be able to at least knock one of the bottles over.

“Alright alright,” he rolls his eyes and pokes Joy’s side. “Enough now, that was just a warm up.”

“Uhuh,” Joy snickers and bites her lip trying to stop the laughter.

Castel takes the second ball into his hand, “Ok this one’s for real.”

He throws the ball and this time it hits the table which the bottles are set on and ricochets back at them. Both Castel and Joy squeak and duck to avoid decapitation by the flying ball. Once they are sure they’re safe they stand again. Castel’s face holds a very bewildered expression as he looks at Joy who looks as though she’s going to explode with laughter.

He narrows his eyes at her, “Ok ok so I’m not a good shot, sue me.”

“It’s ok Cassie,” Autumn says from somewhere behind him.

“Yeah it’s ok Cassierole,” Joy nods in agreement. “I mean if the goal of the game was to miss in every way possible you’d be a champion!”

He blushes more and growls at her, “I still have one more shot.”

“Optimism!” Joy cheers

He takes the last ball into his hand and stares hard at the illusive bottle tower. He’s determined to win her that bear, he’s just gotta look at this from a mathematically stand point. He quickly calculates the angle he’ll need to throw from, how much force he’ll have to throw it at, the direction of the wind, he even estimates the mass of the ball and the distance at which he stands from the tower.

“Quit stalling!” Nathan yells.

“Alright! I’m throwing it I’m throwing it!” Castel snaps and takes a deep breath.

He rears his arm back and soon the ball has left his hand. It flies through the air with the speed of a rocket and his heart pounds as he watches the ball near it’s destination.

The carni.

The man yelps and jumps out of the way of the fast ball. Nathan and Joy burst into laughter when the carni glares at Castel.

“I’m so sorry Sir,” Castel shakes his head. He sighs and looks up at the bear, “I’m sorry J-bird.”

Joy smiles and shakes her head, “No worries Cassie.”

“I really wanted to win it for you though.”

“I know you did,” Joy smiles sweetly and takes his hand, “I know you’re a terrible shot.”

“Hey!” He starts to protest but she cuts him off.

“That’s why it means more to me that you still tried,” she says and kisses his cheek.

All the anger and humiliation instantly melts away as she smiles at him and he feels his own lips curling. His hand is attached to the back of his neck.

“Thanks Jo-jo…I’m still sad I couldn’t win it for you though.”

The carni clears his throat, “Listen kid,” the guy rubs the back of his neck, “that was really sad and painful to watch.”

Castel’s cheeks burn and he hears Nathan bite back a laugh.

“I feel really bad for you,” the carni says, “I don’t want you to walk away with nothing so…here.” He says and holds out a very small bubble container.

Castel takes it and opens the little container, out falls a silver plastic ring with a purple gem in the center. Well it’s not a bear but…

Castel smiles and thanks the carni before handing the little trinket to Joy.

“Here Joy,” he says and puts the plastic hoop onto her finger.

Joy holds her hand out in front of her studying the little ring. Nathan smiles at the carni’s kindness and Autumn rolls her eyes and smirks with a slightly smug look.

“What a useless piece of junk,” Autumn scoffs and Nathan shushes her.

Castel’s heart sinks, rude or not she’s right. Just as Castel is going to apologize again for his failure here eyes grow wide and her lips pull back into a toothy grin.

“This is so cool!” Joy squeals and bounces on her toes, “It looks so real!”

Castel grins as Joy coos over the obvious fake ring, she always sees the best in everything.

“Joy it’s clearly not–”

“Cassie this is awesome!” She pipes and gives him a broad smile. “Do you think you could miss like nine more times!?”

They walk down the hill as Joy marvels at the ten plastic rings that cover her fingers. Castel smiles and wraps his arm around her as she babbles on about how she feels like royalty with all the rings, and how from now on when ever he greets her he has to kiss every ring like they do with the queen. Castel tries to explain that, no one kisses all the rings of the queen or the Pope or the Godfather and Joy huffs and says she’ll have him thrown in the dungeon for crass talk about his queen.

He can’t help the way his heart pounds more in his chest when she calls herself his.

They pass some street performers playing the guitar, a box drum, and a trumpet, with a lead singer. It sounds like they’re singing I Got You by Train but their own version of it. Joy smiles and joins the small circle that surrounds the performers and starts to dance to the beat. Castel smiles and watches her dance around with such a loving gaze; the bedazzled gems of his name sparkling in the sunlight. He will never know how she’s learned to dance like there’s nobody watching her. He’s pulled from his love induced stupor when she appears in front of him and grabs his hand. She pulls him over to the circle with her. She smiles widely at him as she starts to dance. His eyes shift to all the people watching them and pulls his hand away shaking his head.

“No Joy,” he whispers and takes a step back prepared to watch her from the sidelines.

She captures his hand again and smiles sweetly at him, “Come dance with me Cassie.”

His face goes red and he looks around again at all the eyes watching them. Joy cups his cheek and turns his chin to look at her. She gives him a reassuring and genuine smile as the lyrics play through the air.

I got you I got you

You’re the sun through my window warming my skin oh you

Like Sonny and Cher expect I’ll be there for you!

“They aren’t here,” she says just above a whisper. “Dance with me just like we do at home. Just focus on me.”

Her words calm the storm in his stomach and she takes both his hands. She slowly starts to sway back and forth and he’s surprised to find his body following hers. He feels his lips pulling into a smile and he imagines they aren’t at a big festival with thousands of people, no he’s back in her parent’s cabin. They year they got snowed in and she took the opportunity to teach him how to dance. He can feel himself relaxing and soon he’s completely forgot all the people around them. He dances with her smiling and singing along to song with her. Although he has forgotten the people, he does however hear laughter, clapping, and cheering and when he looks around again everyone around them has joined in the dance as well.

They ride on the roller coaster, the Spinning Top, the Whip Lash, and the bummer cars. Castel smiles as he rams his car into Joy’s causing her to laugh and chase him around the track. He glances over in the direction of his friends just in time to see Nathan slam into Autumn’s car. She scowls and glares at him, but not in a playful way. She looks like she saying something to him and judging from his face it’s not something nice. Castel honestly feels kind of bad for his friend…

“That was so much fun!” Joy giggles as he helps her out of her little car, “I beat your butt!”

“I doubt that!” Castel laughs as they walk out off the track.

“You’re just a sorry loser,” Joy says and whips her hair back with her hand.

Castel chuckles, “Sure Jo-jo sure.” He smiles back at Nathan and Autumn, “You guys wanna go on one more ride before getting something to eat?”

“Yeah I’m down for another ride,” Nathan says with a weak smile.

“Alright what do we wanna–”

“They have a carousel!” Joy cheers and tugs on Castel’s sleeve.

“A carousel?” Autumn echos and rolls her eyes, “You cannot be serious.”

“Why not the carousel is fun!” Joy beams at her before looking at Castel, “Come on Cassie!”

Castel laughs as Joy drags him to the carousel leaving Nathan and Autumn behind to argue whether to join them or not. Apparently they chose not but Castel is one hundred percent positive Nathan wanted to go on the ride with them. As the bob up and down on their plastic horses Castel can’t help but laugh at how frustrated Autumn looks. Despite all the nerves he’s happy they’re playing this game, if only to make Autumn feel guilty for all the humiliation she’s put him through. Although he does wish Nathan would detach himself from her hip and come have fun with them–let her be the stick in the mud this is fun! Joy’s ideas are always fun.

================

“So how long have you two been together?” Autumn asks as they sit down at the picnic table.

“Three years,” Castel says using some of his napkins to clean up the mess Joy has made on the table from her chili cheese dog.

Autumn blinks in surprise, “So all this time you’ve been in college?”

“Yupper roonie,” Joy smiles as she licks the cheesy chili from her lips. “Started when we were just wee baby freshmen.”

“How come you’ve never visited?” Nathan asks and slurps his soda.

Joy shrugs, “Ticket was really out of my price range. Plus we’d see each other on breaks and between semesters, so I didn’t see a point.”

“Oh where do you go to school?” Nathan questions with a smile

“UG,” Joy says before bursting into a mini-giggle fit.

Nathan chuckles, “University of Georgia?”

“Ding ding ding, give the boy a prize Vanna!” She cheers and nudges Castel’s ribs with her elbow.

“Why am I Vanna?” He laughs

“You’ve got the arms for the part,” Joy grins and does a quick motion with her arms as if she were showing off a car.

The boys snicker and Autumn gives a forced smirk.

“So why now?” She asks with an underlying dubious tone

Joy clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, “Duuuh girl it’s called a surprise.” She smiles and pokes Castel’s side, “Thought it’d be fun to come see my dork before we left for break.

Castel smiles and bites into his hot dog, “And a nice surprise it is.” He says before giving her cheek a quick peck.

Autumn doesn’t look convinced, “How come Cassie has never talked about you? I mean as a couple.”

Joy’s eyes widen and she gasps, “Cassie you don’t tell people we’re together?”

Castel’s eyes widen slightly and his heart picks up in speed.

“Well um…I just…” he’s totally dropping the ball! What’s wrong with him? Why can’t he make up a reason? What even would be a good enough reason!? He can’t think, especially not with the way Autumn is smiling at him right now. Although it is a smile it’s not a nice smile, it’s more of the look a spider would have when a fly gets caught in its web. Castel hates how he knows which role he’s playing in that scenario right now.

“I’m just kidding Casper,” Joy says putting her hand on his arm. “I know why you don’t tell people we’re together.”

“Why?” Nathan asks

Yeah why? He thinks as he stares at her, trying hard to tell her with his eyes to watch her steps.

“Our families don’t want us together,” Joy says in a loud whisper.

Nathan and Autumn share a confused glance.

“Why not?” Autumn asks

Yeah why not Joy? He thinks in his head, his heart pounding a million miles a millisecond.

Joy sighs dramatically, “They’ve been feuding for years and refuse to let us be together. We’re what’s it called? Sud…stud…star? Yeah! Star-crossed lovers!”

He is internally screaming.

She smiles at Castel before putting her hand on her forehead as if she were going to faint, “A doomed forbidden love.” She sighs audible before smiling again, “You know like that one couple that, that dude Shakespeare wrote about. The whole Romeo Oh Romeo come we must kill ourselves do to poor communication.”

He’s still screaming.

“Romeo and Juliet,” Castel hears himself correct despite the howls of his internal self.

“Tomato tamahto,” Joy waves her hand dismissively. “My title is much better.”

What happened to KISS!? He yells in his head as his heart runs out the door with its bags packed leaving a sign on his ribcage that reads ‘gone finishing’. He swallows only to find his mouth has gone dry and he dares to look at Autumn. Maybe there’s a chance she’s buying it…nope. Not at all.

The girl still smiles but there’s an evil glint in her eyes as she laces her fingers and tucks them snugly under her chin.

“So why can’t you tell us you have a little birdie Cas? I mean after all we’re not family?”

Castel is proud of himself that he’s held his smile although his cheeks are starting to hurt. He takes a breath and clears his throat. Perhaps there’s a chance he can save this sinking relationship.

“Well you know how word travels like wildfire,” he says and seeing that he has no pen to start clicking, he opts to flatten out the napkin he’s been mangling. “Nathan has met my family before, and he’s pretty good friends with my brothers. Suppose one time on accident he let’s it slip out that Joy and I are together? My brothers would tell my parents and they’d tell Joy’s and it’d be a whole ‘nother turf war.” He shrugs, “I couldn’t live without Joy so we’d run off and elope in some other state.”

“Yeah it’d be a trickle up affect.” Joy pipes in

“Trickle down,” he corrects.

“Whateves somethings trickling to somewhere,” Joy rolls her eyes and finishes her chili cheese dog.

“Aren’t you going to have to elope anyway?” Autumn questions with a sneer

The malicious sparkle in her eyes angers him. He wants to put her in her place, so he swallows his nerves and finds his courage.

“Well we’re hoping one day we’ll be able to sit down with our families and work things out.” He says with a smirk, “I mean after all I want both of families to be there when we get hitched. Wouldn’t you?”

Autumn stares him down for a moment and he stands his ground. He doesn’t care if it is a lie he’s going to make he believe it. He’s so done with her arrogance and delusions of superiority, Joy’s lit this cannon and he’s gonna make sure it lands right on the target.

Autumn drops her hands and takes a deep breath, “Well I wish you would have at least told us you were taken.” Her eyes soften, “I wouldn’t have tried so hard to set you up.” She looks down almost embarrassed, “I’m so sorry I had no idea you two were together I mean it makes so much sense now. You were not interested in those girls cause you already had a girl.” Autumn looks back up at him, “You sure were loyal. I’m sorry for pushing so hard.”

Castel can feel his muscles relax, “It’s alright, no harm done.”

Autumn turns her gaze to Joy, “Please forgive me I had no idea.”

Joy smiles and shakes her head, “Don’t worry about it Fall everything’s A-Okay.” Joy shoots finger guns at Autumn who seems to almost sigh in relief.

“Thank you,” Autumn smiles.

Although Autumn has finally apologized for her nonstop revolving door of sloppy mean girls, he knows the day is not over. They’re not out of the woods just yet.

#love #fluff #pretend #play #house #ruse #pretendgirlfriend #cute

[peterjonesparker]

in which junior prom is a thing and michelle is having fun at the thing, which may or may not be because peter parker is her date, but shhhhh.

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight (THIS ONE!) | nine

when michelle was younger, she didn’t exactly have a lot of suitors knocking down her door. none of her classmates were leaving cute notes in her locker or asking her to be their valentine. so maybe michelle is feeling a little nervous as she sits in front of the mirror on friday night. prom night.

6:07

prom is in the gym of midtown high. everyone agreed to leave her apartment at seven because who needs to show up on time? unless you’re cindy and you’re working the prom, but they don’t have that concern. everyone is supposed to arrive at her house at six thirty for snacks and prom pictures™. which means peter should be arriving in approximately eight minutes if his previous history is any indication.

she takes a deep breath, looking at herself in the mirror. her mother absolutely adored the red of her dress. so she took the lead with everything else prom related. she’s wearing her mom’s red heels from the nineties and her mom’s bold red lipstick from…well…from sephora, she thinks?

she doesn’t ask her mom about date nights with her dad. that’s just…weird.

anyway

michelle knows she looks beautiful. but part of her is worried. because, well, her previous crushes haven’t always thought so and she’s nervous that, despite all the signs she’s hoping that she’s reading correctly, peter only likes her as a friend.

“michelle.” her father calls from outside her bedroom door. “peter is here.” he slowly opens the door, sticking his head around. his smile spreads wide and bright across his face as he walks over to his daughter. “mj, honey, you look beautiful.” he hugs her tightly and mj smiles into his shoulder. she really loves her dad. but oh god, is he crying again?

“dad! you promised!” she pushes him away, hitting him lightly on the shoulder, though she’s chuckling with a bright grin on her face.

“I know, I know!” he wipes his tears quickly and takes a deep breath. “but it’s just you and I here, so it’s okay. I won’t cry in front of your boyfriend.” he draws out the word in a song and shakes his shoulders from side to side when he says it and michelle groans and wants to stomp off but these heels are higher than she’s used to so she just walks, simple and dignified.

she waits at her door for her dad, nonetheless. and if she grabs his hand before walking to the stairs, that’s nobody’s business. she’s allowed to do-

fuck

there is no way peter parker should ever be allowed to look that good.

he’s talking with her mother and laughing and his whole face is just lit up like the sun. he looks so happy and carefree. and his suit. it’s tight in all the right places. like, she knew he was spiderman so in theory he should have muscles, but it’s actually just straight up unfair how good he looks.

then her dad clears his throat and mj quickly bites her mouth closed. she hadn’t even realized it had fallen open. she might as well have been drooling. and then she locks eyes with peter and she smiles. she hopes the gulp he takes and the glaze that covers his eyes aren’t something she’s making up.

her mom cheers and claps as she walks down the stairs and michelle rolls her eyes but she’s actually very ecstatic because this is her prom and she’s going with the boy she likes and she’s wearing a beautiful dress. she’s allowed to be giddy and happy and excited and bashful.

when she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she hugs her mother and then looks at peter. she smiles as she meets his eye, but he still doesn’t look quite focused so she snaps in his face. “hey, loser, ready for prom?”

he jumps slightly, shaking his head, smile growing slowly on his face like the dopey nerd he is. “of course.” he moves back and forth on his heels a bit and michelle is overwhelmed by how precious he is and how much love she has for him. “I’m really excited.”

her mother looks between the two of them, who aren’t really looking anywhere but at each other, and announces that she’s going to go finish preparing the snacks in the kitchen. she grabs her husband’s hand and takes him with her.

mj and peter stand there, smiling at each other like dorks, and mj hasn’t felt this elated in a long time. she laughs, looking down briefly before giving him a quick once over. “you cleaned up nicely, parker. color me impressed”

peter smirk, grabbing the lapels of his suit proudly. “told you I would look good. my uncle ben had good taste.”

mj smiles, smoothing out his collar gently. “I can see that. it’s a good look, parker. you should wear it more often.”

his dopey grin fades a bit and he clears his throat. “you look really pretty, mj.” he looks stunned. “like, really pretty.” she has trouble trying to fight the butterflies in her stomach that threaten to fly out. and she has to maintain some element of cool here.

“thanks, dork. now let’s go eat some moon pies.” and so they walk to the kitchen and chat with her parents for a couple minutes before the doorbell rings and ned and betty are there and then the apartment really fills with noise. ned has an amazing ability to just. keep. talking. don’t tell him, but mj loves that about him.

they eat snacks her parents made and talk and laugh. they take embarrassing prom pictures™ on her staircase and maybe her happiness threatens to bubble over when peter wraps his arms around her waist. and maybe she’s frozen a bit and she can’t really breathe because those are his arms around her and his hands locked over her stomach. and she doesn’t even have to try to smile because she’s already doing it and she can’t help it.

everyone agreed that mj should drive because her brother left his car in new york and really, it’s her car too. no matter what alexander insists over the phone. (but she did get his permission to take the car for the night, promise to be the designated driver and all.)

so they all pile into the car and her parents give her a brief talk about responsibility and driving safely and consensual, protected sexual activity and she groans and wants to melt. she hugs them anyway and gets into the driver’s seat and peter puts his hand on hers briefly when she rests it on the center console. “thanks for asking me to come with you.”

she’s too stunned to smile and then he’s taking his hand off and smiling as he looks straight ahead at the car parked in front of them on the street. she shakes her head briefly, looking forward and placing both her hands on the steering wheel. she takes a deep breath and forces her heart to shut up for once as she turns the key and pulls into the street, on the way to the very exciting locale of midtown high.

ned and betty’s chatter fills the silence of the car ride and peter seems to just be content to smile, but his hand is resting on the center console and she doesn’t know if that means he wants to hold her hand or not and she doesn’t want to hold it if he doesn’t want her too so she just keeps her hands planted on the steering wheel. focus on driving, mj.

so that’s what she does. and if she keeps looking over at peter, smiling if he happens to be looking at her, and then blushing and quickly turning back to the road, well, no one can judge her.

when they arrive at the school, she parks the car and they all walk over together, back to laughing and shouting about silly things. peter offers her his arm and she blushes when she wraps her hand around it, holding him to her tightly through this one point of connection.

michelle will be the first to admit: she is very impressed with the setup of the prom. the decorations are beautiful. she actually likes the song playing. she’s there with all her friends and oh my goodness, are those brownies? she makes a note that she needs to compliment cindy and the rest of the team responsible for putting this together.

and then they’re just….at prom. and they all walk over to where the rest of the team is hanging out, even flash thompson. and the whole team jokes around and laughs and brags to each other about their two year winning streak and making it a triple. and it’s fun.

so michelle allows herself to make weird faces in the cheesy photo booth set up in the corner and she allows herself to drink really sugary punch and pretend to gag at ned and she allows herself to dance awkwardly and sway side to side as a pop song plays and she allows herself to look at peter and smile at him and make jokes with him and wrap her arm around his shoulders when she calls him a loser and he makes a face like he’s sad. (he isn’t.)

and she and peter are laughing at how ned blushed red as a tomato because betty kissed him on the cheek when peter just…gasps. she looks up to find him staring off toward the dance floor, face completely entranced and blank. “uh, earth to parker?”

he whips his head around to look at her and his cheeks are slightly pink. “sorry, it’s just, uh-” he looks down at his shoes, hands moving back and forth at his sides, “this is like, my favorite song.”

and michelle listens more closely. and wonderful tonight? oh god, her mother listened to this song on repeat for all of her middle school years. really? she never took peter for a sappy romantic. but she guesses he’s just full of surprises. and then she looks at the dance floor and couples have matched up and entwined themselves, swaying slowly back and forth as eric clapton croons the lyric, “you look wonderful tonight”.

oh

peter’s favorite song isn’t just a romantic song. it’s a slow dance song. arms around your neck, hands on your waist, head on the shoulder slow dance song.

and

well

michelle doesn’t want him to have to stand around while his favorite song plays at their junior prom. so, despite all the flurries she’s getting from listening to this song about a man telling a woman that she looks wonderful:

“okay, then let’s dance, dork.”

so, slowly and most definitely awkwardly, the pair makes their way to the dance floor to join the hoards of other students dancing. and michelle takes a deep breath and wraps her arms loosely around his shoulders while he lightly grabs her waist. and they start dancing.

they don’t talk for a few moments, both looking determinedly over the other’s shoulder. and then

“michelle, I-” she looks at peter, eyes gentle and nervous.

“yes?” she tries to keep her voice calm and decidedly not desperate. and she doesn’t dare say another word because the whole world has become silent and focused on this one moment in her life.

peter takes a long, deep breath. “I just. there’s something I have to tell you.” he wont’ quite meet her eyes, but maybe it’s for the best. her heart’s kind of beating a mile a minute but it’s also lodged in her throat and things are very confusing but she’s also nervous and excited.

and then he looks her straight in the eye and whispers, “i’m spiderman.”

and

she wasn’t expecting this. but. this also feels so great. because she’s waited months for him to trust her with this. for him to feel like she deserves to know his biggest secret in the world. and she can’t help but feel happy about that. even if part of her heart is disappointed.

“I know.” she smiles as his face contorts and he starts, “how did you-”, but she just covers his mouth, quietly whispering, “be quiet, you horrible secret keeper. just dance with me.”

she pulls him closer and rests her chin on his shoulder, hugging him tightly as she continues to sway back and forth with small steps. he pauses for a brief moment before wrapping his arms tightly around her back, deeply sighing.

they stay silent for a few more moments before she smiles, face pressed up against his soft hair, and gently says, “thank you for telling me.”

“I’m glad you know.” he says, tightening his arms and they stay locked in that hug well into the next song that plays. (one sweet day by boyz ii men and mariah carey, if you were wondering.)

they only pull apart when peter nervously and awkwardly announces that he has to pee really badly. she laughs and pushes him toward the restroom. she shakes her head when he trips over his foot near the gym door.

she goes to wait by the fruit punch. (even though it’s sickeningly sweet…she kind of likes it, okay? leave her alone!)

and then flash thompson approaches her. “hey mj.” he says, nonchalant, as he grabs himself a cup of punch.

“flash.” she looks down at him, eyebrow raised.

he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “calm down. I’m only here to invite you and your nerdy friends to an after party at my house. the whole decathlon team is invited.” he more quietly says, “we did a good job this year and I wanted to celebrate one last time before summer.”

and mj nearly smiles at flash thompson, of all people. “yeah, that sounds fun. I’ll ask them.”

and he smiles, walking back to his date. “what did flash want?” ned asks, walking over to her as she sips on her punch.

she glances over at him briefly. “he invited us to a party at his house after prom.”

“really?” ned sounds very excited for a moment, bu then he huffs angrily and says, disappointed, “I don’t have my party hat with me.”

at that, michelle actually laughs. ned looks stunned and a little hurt. “buddy, I’m sure betty is gonna think you look just fine without your party hat. and that’s all that matters tonight.”

he lets out a quick smile, nodding his head once. “you’re so right. this is gonna be so much fun! flash is supposed to have great food.”

“who has great food?” peter asks, walking up to them. he gives mj a smile almost as sweet as the punch and she blushes ferociously.

“flash. he invited us to his party. peter, we have to go.” ned says, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and looking him sternly in the eye. “it’s our junior prom. we need a little fun.”

“well, uh,” peter moves to lock eyes with mj, “do you want to go?”

he shrugs her shoulders and nods. “it could be entertaining. what’s the harm?”

so peter nods quickly, looking back at ned. “sure, why not?”

“yes!” and with that, ned runs off, presumably to go find betty and tell her the exciting news that they, the dork squad™, have been invited to flash thompson’s prom after party.

when she takes her eyes off ned to find peter, he’s smiling, small and adorable as he looks at his shoes. and, well, she’s hoping the after party will hold more pleasant surprises.

#spiderman: homecoming #spiderman homecoming #michelle jones #peter parker #spideychelle #michelle x peter #peter x michelle #mj x peter #peter x mj #ned leeds #sh #otp: i'm just kidding i don't care #i write things #in which michelle deserves all the headcanons and fic #hello all #i am trash #this is like #2600 words #and i didn't even finish writing all of prom day #this covers LITERALLY JUST A FEW HOURS #but #i wanted to post this because it felt like a good stopping place #but i'll write the after party because i am trash #i also realized i can't put these characters through too much turmoil right now #i am weak #i just want them to be happy #also lol guess who has two thumbs and was too lazy to think of a non cliche prom theme #this girl! #anyway #i hope you like this!

[destielisruiningmylife]

Written for @eternallydeancas a few months ago, in honor of great fathers. Happy father’s day! x

Dean can't stop pacing. He wouldn't be surprised if the carpet is significantly thinner by the time he stops - and he doesn't care even a little bit. 

Today is the day he's going to become a father. 

It's a day he never expected for himself. He'd never had the best luck with relationships throughout most of his adult life, and after a while he just assumed he wasn't destined for that whole white-picket-fence, apple pie life. He also considered himself a loner, which added to this theory.

He couldn't have accounted for Castiel, the tax accountant who changed his whole world.

Honestly, truly, Cas was just his tax man for three years before anything happened. Dean’s never been good with that kind of shit, and Castiel was recommended to him by Charlie, who worked IT in Cas’s department. They met up twice a year, once to hand over the paperwork, and again to talk over what all Cas did after he was done a couple weeks later. He always tried to help Dean understand so maybe he wouldn't have to spend so much money on a tax accountant to help him out. But between his own earnings and taking care of a business, it was too much of a hassle. He kept allowing Cas to teach him things anyway.

And, boy, did Dean learn. He learned that sometimes you can be completely wrong about who you think you are. He learned that he was capable of so much more love than he'd ever been given by anyone besides his baby brother, and that it was easy. Loving Castiel is the easiest thing he's ever done.

The love Cas gave in return? So much harder for him to handle. At first, after they'd been dating for a while and things had gotten serious, he'd almost wanted to run when Cas told him he loved him. He's self-deprecating by nature and it took him a long time to come to terms with just how much Cas was willing to give. And feel okay with taking.

Now, as Dean finally slows his pacing and glances at the waiting room couch where his husband is dozing off, he can't imagine a life without this caring man. This man, who loves cheeseburgers and strategy games and fucking The Breakfast Club (it’s Castiel’s favorite movie), is his and they are about to be parents.

A nurse comes into the room and Dean is in her space immediately. “What is it, is she okay? 

The nurse chuckles and lays a comforting  hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Ms. Bradbury is fine. She's still in labor, but it should be any minute now.” 

Yeah, like he hasn't heard that one before. Thirty-seven minutes ago. He has to hand it to Charlie, though, she's a trooper. She offered to be a surrogate for Dean and Cas a little over 10 months ago and they both had been overjoyed. Rather than use a sperm bank, they'd used both of their sperm and left it up to chance as to whose baby it turns out to be. Dean doesn't care either way, although he would be elated to have a baby with Cas’s bright blue eyes. And wild mat of hair. And adorable dimples. Okay, so he's kinda hoping Cas’s sperm won the race, but he knows he'll love this baby no matter what with all of his heart.

He'd been a mess throughout the whole pregnancy. They both had, really - painting a nursery, making sure Charlie is healthy and happy; Dean went as far as to offer for Charlie to stay in their guest room to keep an eye on her, and that was when she practically ordered Cas to take Dean away for a weekend to pull his head out of his ass and find his cool again. It hadn't really worked, but it had been worth a shot.

Cas wakes up just as the nurse is leaving and Dean sits down next to him. He reaches over and takes Dean’s hand, twining their fingers. “Dean. She's going to be fine.”

What would have made it even more fine is if Charlie would have let them in the labor room with her. But she insisted it would be better for them to wait outside; honestly, probably a good thing because Dean probably would have passed out from anxiety in the room itself. He thinks Charlie knew that.

He still can't believe she offered to do this for them. They'd been trying to adopt for a while, but kept hitting roadblocks in the state of Kansas with same-sex parents and adoption. They'd considered moving, but their whole life is in Lawrence and then Charlie, who had been Dean’s best friend for so long, had offered up the perfect solution to their problem.

Cas is rubbing patterns onto the back of Dean’s hand and it helps him slow his breathing. He's never been so nervous in his life. Dean turns his head and rests it in the crook of Cas’s shoulder and neck, nuzzling slightly.

“I know she'll be okay.” 

They sit like that for quite a few minutes, long enough for Dean to get worried again before the waiting room door opens and the nurse comes back in. This time she's grinning. “It's time!”

Dean scrambles to his feet and pulls Cas up with him, wrapping a shaking hand around his waist before following the nurse.

Cas whispers in his ear, “Final guess?” 

Dean shakes his head. They've been debating whether or not the baby would be a boy or a girl for months, and Dean was firm on not wanting to know ahead of time. Of course he knows in his heart what he wants, but that doesn't change that no matter what the baby turns out to be, Dean will love them regardless.

Cas chuckles and they push through the door to find a very sweaty, smiling Charlie holding a small bundle in her arms. Dean stops in his tracks, suddenly overcome with bone-crushing fear. The bundle is so tiny, how is it so tiny?

Charlie holds the bundle out and Cas, who isn't frozen with fear like a good adult, takes the baby in his arms carefully and when he gets a look at the baby’s face, Cas’s face absolutely lights up. He lifts his head and beckons Dean over.

Dean is scared shitless but he suddenly is itching to hold the baby. He holds his arms out and Cas gently deposits the bundle in his arms. His eyes widen as he looks at Cas’s face, happiness etched in every pore. He finally looks down.

And into the bright green eyes of his baby daughter, evident by the pink cap peeking out from under the blanket. Tears fall from his nose and Cas reaches out to wipe them, leaving his hand on Dean’s cheek afterwards.

He knows he'll never have the words to describe the love he feels staring down at this little sleeping baby girl, how strange it is to feel it so instantaneously. He finds himself thinking of his own father, of the love Dean knew he felt for his two boys before he died. The love of a father is special, and he feels it now, stirring up something unshakable in his heart.

When he looks up at Cas again, he knows he feels it too.

#father's day #destiel #supernatural #ficlet #fluff #domestic #dean winchester #castiel #my fic

[themusicenthusiast]

Friday, September 29th, 2017 – New Songs and Old Favorites Abound as the Turnpike Troubadours Rush to Beat Curfew at Western Days

What a perfect opening day it was for Western Days. The annual event in downtown Lewisville was kicking off with cloudy skies concealing the sun; the light showers that had fallen around D-FW no longer being a threat as festival goers entered into the grounds... or so people thought. Some drops were felt every now and then as the night progressed, though it was more annoying than anything, and certainly not heavy enough for attendees to bail early. Some heavy hitters had been tapped to headline the two-day event this year, beginning with The Turnpike Troubadours, who were doing their first headline gig in North Texas since the end of 2016. Free for those that arrived before seven and a mere ten dollars for everyone that couldn't make it until later, the price was impossible to beat. Couple that with the fact that the Oklahoma-based outfit is capable of selling out venues that boast a capacity of several thousand and there was no doubt that the street would be packed by the time ten o'clock rolled around. Sure enough, it went from being relatively empty just a few hours before to a staggering amount of Turnpike fans covering every lane on Church Street as their set time neared. There was a nice mix of fans out as well. A few young kids sported Turnpike Troubadours shirts, speaking ecstatically about what they hoped to hear, while others ranged into their sixties or so, with every other age group in between also represented. They were all eager for the band of the hour, roaring fanfare greeting them as they finally took the stage at 10:02, Evan Felker waving at the congregation as he stepped out underneath the stage lights. A track of pummeling percussion was what they walked out to, the intro piece adding to the excitement as it set the stage for what was sure to be something thrilling.

“Well, she was born in the morning, late October, San Antone…” The throng of fans echoed along on that opening line of “Every Girl”; the delight that filled the air upon everyone recognizing it being palpable. Even if you knew (or at least expected) that it was coming it still provided such an excellent start to the show, the chipper mood that the beloved song maintains setting the pace for the rest of the night. As it reached the end, repeating that opening line, Felker raised an arm towards the sky and twirled his hand around, as if encouraging everyone to help them out again. The audience picked up on that cue, belting it out with more passion than before as they then moved directly on to the next number. Diamonds & Gasoline was the focus for the first handful of cuts, that lead track from it giving way to the subsequent song, “7 & 7”. Ryan Engleman was wielding a double neck guitar for the first couple of tunes, seeming to make them a little more intricate as he occasionally shifted between the two, while ratcheting up the “cool” factor exponentially, the axe-slinger radiating a confidence as he waved it about, brandishing it in the air as the song concluded. Kyle Nix was also featured prominently on that sing-along, the fiddle prevailing throughout it, overpowering the other instruments for a few fleeting moments and sounding fantastic. “The last Texan in the band” was how Felker referred to Hank Early, the pedal steel player leaving his seat and grabbing the accordion; the upbeat “Shreveport” being the ideal follow-up. Live, it’s incredibly up-tempo, the rapid setting that the musicians move to making it downright irresistible. That fast pace ensures it’s perfect for a clap along, something that Felker incited as the bridge came around. The accordion received some prime time throughout “1968”, fading into the mix and stealing the show for a moment before tapering back off in excellent fashion. The backing vocals were also quite strong on that one, adding another layer to the performance, while Engleman simply mouthed along to the words of the song that he was firmly invested in. Four songs in and the Turnpike Troubadours hit their first real break of the night. The silence didn’t last long however, soon being broken by a drum roll courtesy of Gabriel Pearson. A certain drum roll that can elicit a reaction stronger than any of the other tracks in their impressive arsenal. It was extended, beginning somewhat reserved before Pearson packed more force into it; a bit of a collective gasp transforming to cheers and elated screams once everyone discerned that it was “Good Lord Lorrie”. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” was Felker’s response to the massive fanfare that erupted after that one was done. That was about the extent of the dialogue this night, the group wanting to utilize every second they could and deliver the songs that everyone expected from them, the fiddle soon piercing the silence as Nix set them off on what stood out as another fan favorite, “Kansas City Southern”. “…That’s a hell of a lot of people!” Felker remarked afterwards, some of the lights illuminating the crowd, highlighting the droves of fans that had turned out. The singer and acoustic guitarist then mentioned they had a new record coming out soon (A Long Way From Your Heart due out on October 20th via Bossier City) and asked if it would be okay if they played some new songs from it. No one had any qualms with that. They only did a couple, and surprisingly, the first of those was not one of the promotional singles that they have released from it. “Pay No Rent” has undergone a radical transformation since last December, the then newly written song being performed in a bare-bones manner at a show in Shawnee, Oklahoma. In some ways, that format is behooving of the beauty the track conveys, though the fleshed-out sound they’ve since given it was still transfixing in its own right. Slightly relaxed by Turnpike Troubadours’ standards -- the bass and drums being subtler -- it’s still an exceptional song that is teeming with emotion. You could tell the newer songs are still being worked on in regards to incorporating them into the live setting, a lengthy stick count seeming as if it was going to be the precursor to the next track before the clacking ceased. Instead, the six-piece outfit just launched right in to the lead single from the forthcoming record, “The Housefire”. It earned some strong reactions from the concert goers, considering it had only been out for about a month prior to this show. A sure sign that it is, at the very least, well liked. Actually, it wound up being their best song of the night, that story oriented track sounding absolutely superb. Depicting a young family -- husband, wife and baby – who narrowly get out from their burning home and subsequently lose it all, it succeeded in capturing a mood the likes of which none of their other songs do. The instrumentation translates extraordinarily well live, a crucial piece of what made it so riveting, the tale itself evoking an array of keen feelings, thus making certain it struck a chord with everyone. The recording portrays it as a great song, no one would argue that, but live, that’s where “The Housefire” is at its best. Further grabbing one’s attention while listening to that song is the fact that “Lorrie” makes another appearance, be it the same character from a couple of past works or just a version of the enigmatic woman. And how appropriate it was that they follow it with the final song referencing that character. Some twangy licks from the guitars accompanied an atmospheric and somewhat eerie sounding transitional piece, the haunting tones suddenly being broken by the opening chords of “The Mercury”. That rocker ultimately came to a sizzling finish, the deafening notes resonating out into the open air; the band only halfway through the show they had planned. And, much as is stated in that song, they were just starting to hit their stride. “Down Here” lightened the mood some after a couple of heavier songs (in terms of the story elements), and as they breezed through that reassuring track, it apparently dawned on them that they were sans their normal light guy, Reece, who according to the congratulatory post on Facebook was spending some time with his newborn baby. Felker mentioned him afterwards, dedicating their next song to him. In its own way, “Blue Star” was a perfect tribute to their friend and integral part of their team. Engleman began strolling around the stage much more, stretching his legs and visiting his band mates, he and bassist RC Edwards locking eyes for a moment and jamming on what was the first of a series of offerings from Goodbye Normal Street. The next two were the most popular songs from that five-year-old album, the first of which required Felker to swap out to a banjo. Engleman laid down a slick solo in advance of the third verse of “Gin, Smoke, Lies”, an ominous interlude that would fit well in an old western film serving as the bridge between it and the next number. It was foreshadowing of the chaos that would unfold during “Before the Devil Knows We're Dead”, which saw the musicians put a certain amount of grit into it that outdid their previous cuts. It was done with sheer conviction, another clap along being worked in at that point; Felker changing up one of the lines, instead singing, “…I’m thirty-something years old now…” There was no recovery time for the spectators. Applause had just begun when the initially soothing tones of “Whole Damn Town” quelled it. The poignant breakup song was magnificent, a smooth quality abounding at every turn, contributed largely thanks to Felker and the way in which he delivered the lyrics. “Thank you, Western Days,” he stated quickly as they broke into what everyone knew signified the end of the show: “Bossier City”. Audience participation was practically a requirement, from more clapping to a chorus or two that was turned over entirely to the crowd. As usual, it also featured a formal introduction of each of the band members accompanied by an opportunity to let their talents shine. Nix was first up with a soaring fiddle solo, Engleman following suit, with Early going all-out on his accordion soon after. “The Good Doctor himself” (as he was introduced) RC Edwards laid down a strong bass solo with Pearson winding it down, while Felker brought it home with a great piece on the harmonica. Technically that was it, the conclusion of their 67-minute long set, though Felker remained on stage, immediately starting the encore. He opted for something that was unexpected, a song he would later say “only goes over in Texas”. It’s hard to believe that not everyone would at least enjoy “Empty as a Drum” (a song that ranks high on my list of personal favorite Turnpike songs), though maybe it is a Texan thing. People appreciated the rarely heard tune; the desperation and longing that’s conveyed in the story seeping into Felker’s delivery of the lyrics, guaranteeing it was an emotional powerhouse. He then headed for the wings, the rest of the band making their way back out, Edwards taking the helm for what has become a staple song of theirs over the past year or two. “…We’re gonna get drunk. We’re gonna get high. We’re gonna get loud!” goes the refrain of the pure party song that is steeped in authentic country, Edwards’ Southern drawl providing the tacks’ primary charm. It was all hands-on deck for the ol’ John Hartford song that Felker stated had worked well for them over the years. Indeed, they have made “Long Hot Summer Day” their own, putting their mark on it and making it a signature of their performances. It’s so fun and vibrant, akin to the same vibe that “Bossier City” emanates, and it provided a fitting end to that 14-minute long encore. Still, fans weren’t ready to leave yet. Some made their move for the gates, though most were steadfast and determined as the cries for an encore grew. There would be one more, but only one, as the band had a curfew to meet. “…It’s kind of funny,” Felker admitted, almost thinking aloud. “You get into the music business and then you have a curfew.” One noticeably absent song was “The Bird Hunters”, which was remedied with their final few minutes, the six of them leaving the stage triumphantly, holding their instruments high before they disappeared from view. They had thoroughly entertained the masses that had turned out, delivering a caliber of performance that fans have come to expect… and they beat curfew. They may have not visited North Texas much this year, though the Turnpike Troubadours have certainly not been taking it easy in terms of touring, the rigorous schedule they keep continuing to push them further as musicians and performers. That was noticeable on this night, the six of them appearing more at home than ever on stage, a determined spirit ever present as they tore through that extensive set list. One comprised mainly of songs they surely know by heart, yet ones they still manage to inject new life into, capturing a sense of freshness no matter how many times one has seen the band and heard their hits. By possessing that kind of ability it’s no wonder why people keep turning out to see them, the crowds continuously growing larger with each trip they make to a city. Aside from their prowess as musicians, the Turnpike Troubadours strengths lie in their music. Their blend of Americana, Red Dirt and country styles, hefty doses of rock mixed in, creating something that is familiar yet distinct, different from everything else out there. There is a catchy quality about their music, while the stories they spin reel one in, creating immense interest in what is happening and where things will go next. Their new music, judging by what they have released thus far as well as what they performed this night, seems to exemplify that better than ever before. They work to get deeper and convey a more personal outlook than any of their past works (which is saying something), proving that the best is yet to come for the Turnpike Troubadours. Best of all, though, has to be the fact that these tried and true performers genuinely enjoy doing what they do. That’s evident by watching them, and they work to make sure the onlookers are having as great a time as they are. All of that is a definite winning combination. On October 20th, the day that A Long Way From Your Heart releases, the band will be performing at The Criterion in Oklahoma City, OK for the official CD release show. Other upcoming shows include the Harvest Maroon Fest at Wolf Pen Creek Amphitheater in College Station, TX on October 13th; headlining The Blue Light Live Street Concert in Lubbock, TX on October 14th; and performing at the Walker Theater in Chattanooga, TN on October 23rd. The Gramercy Theatre in New York, NY will host them on October 25th; on November 9th they’ll be in Wichita, KS at The Cotillion; and on December 1st and 2nd they’ll do a two-night stand at ACL Live at Moody Theater in Austin, TX. For more details along with a complete listing of their show schedule, go HERE. Also, make sure you go to iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY and pre-oder A Long Way From Your Heart or grab their previous releases.

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