#god even though it’s exaggerated you really can tell mischief are actually familiar with the world they’re writing about

[benisasoftboi]

ChrisTrev not because of their personalities, or dynamic, or implied backstories, or the actors that play them, or really anything to do with them specifically as people at all, but because I work at an amateur theatre and I can think of few recipes for ridiculous chaotic hilarious disaster that are more potent than a director dating his head technician

#the goes wrong show #cornley polytechnic drama society #chris bean #trevor watson #christrev #the DRAMA at the post-production meetings! the staff would be gossiping for weeks! #only heightened by the fact that trevor seemingly does *all* the sections #yes he probably does screw up more than anyone but honestly can you really blame him under those circumstances #just take turns having someone sit out to run props for the week guys! #jk that would be highly unrealistic they’re actors. #god even though it’s exaggerated you really can tell mischief are actually familiar with the world they’re writing about #trevor watson realest techie representation ever put to screen. love this show

[graniairish]

Walking on Eggshells – Part 2

Hello my dears. I just couldn't resist and had to write a second part. (maybe there will also be a part 3)

Pairing: Daryl x female! Reader

Words: 5159

Warnings: language, sexual content, NSFW, 18+ (my first attempt to write smut in English - hope it didn't get too bad)

Part one

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

"Um ... what ..."

You stood in the door of your room, confused. Hershel had finally released you into "home care" after almost a week of continuous surveillance in the infirmary. In your opinion, the older man was exaggerating a little. You were fine, you had no dizziness, and the headache was gone. But that did not stop Hershel from telling you to take it easy anyway.

Your beloved work in the vegetable fields had to wait for the time being.

Somewhat reluctantly, you had agreed to everything, only to finally be able to go back to your own four walls. You wanted to sleep in your own bed again, even if it was just a simple Prison bed in the former director's office. But still, it was your home.

But you did not expect what you found there now.

As if rooted to the ground, you stood in the middle of the room and looked around with big eyes in disbelief.

Your room, your little private realm, should actually be here. But the room in front of you was no longer your room. Your things were still there, but they were not the only ones that filled the shelves on the walls.

The most noticeable change, however, was your bed. It was still in the far corner of the room, but it looked absolutely strange. Because right next to it there was now a second, and the way the sheet was stretched over it made it look like a double bed.

"I thought Hershel wouldn't release ya until tonight," you heard Daryl's deep voice behind you.

Still slightly confused, you turned to the archer. He stood uncertain in the doorway, Crossbow slung over his shoulder, hands clasped on the strap. His blue eyes were fixed on you as he chewed the inside of his cheek - his nervous tic.

And how this man was nervous right now, and it was not just his ears that betrayed him - which had just turned deep red.

Daryl did not expect to find you here now. He actually wanted to talk to you about it first and not just put you in front of a fait accompli. Though, somehow, he would have done it one way or another.

He was afraid he had done something wrong, crossed a line, or something like that.

"I couldn't take it there any longer."

Only now did you notice that his hair was wet and still dripping. Could it be that he had showered?

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod.

“I know we didn't talk about it,” he began uncertainly, “but Hershel said it would be better if someone took care of ya. And since there is no chance that ya will move back into the cell block, I thought that would be a good solution."

“That's right,” you had to smile, “I'm not going back there so quickly anymore. I like my privacy."

"Well, if it bothers you ... that I ... then ..."

"No no, I don't mind" you might answer a little too quickly, "I ... I was just ... surprised."

The man across from you felt instantly relieved. You, the woman he loved, wanted to live with him. He could hardly believe his luck.

Daryl took off his Crossbow and leaned it against the wall by the door before walking slowly towards you, his eyes full of love.

“Y/N/N we wasted so much time. I don't want to waste another minute. We don't know how much time we have left."

Daryl lovingly cupped your chin with two fingers while he gently touched your lips with his.

You could not help but melt into his touch. That you could do this now was still a miracle to you, and you would enjoy every single second of it to the full.

"But I sleep on the right side," you finally said with mischief in your eyes when your lips had separated.

"Forget it", Daryl snorted and went to the bed, "I'm sleepin’ between the door and ya."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Always the protector.

"Don't think I didn't see that."

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

A few weeks had passed since the incident during your run. You are now working side by side with Rick in the vegetable fields again. The plants were blooming and developing fantastically - and they would be very good yielding.

After a long shower to wash dirt and sweat from your body, you made your way to the inner courtyard of the prison, which was used as a canteen during the warmer months of the year. Dinner had just started, and so all residents, regardless of whether they were old or new, huddled together to have their meal together.

When Daryl returned from his shift at the Guard Tower, he spotted you chatting with Carol who was just distributing the food. He liked how carefree you looked at that moment.

Without thinking about it, he walked over to you and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek before you had the chance to notice him.

"Yuck, don't do that," you giggled, "you're all sweaty."

"And hungry," he said with a grin.

Carol shook her head with a smile before filling two bowls and holding them out to you.

"Here take these, you lovebirds."

Taking the bowls Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and went with you to the table where Glenn and Maggie were already sitting.

You had not noticed how your loving and familiar way of dealing with each other had been uncomfortable for some - or at least for one.

Michelle was sitting at a table with several other Woodbury residents and had been watching you with narrowed eyes. Green with envy, she got up at some point and went back to the cell block where she lived.

But Carol had noticed, and she would move heaven and earth to keep this woman from disrupting your relationship.

Little by little, Rick and the other members of your sworn family joined you to enjoy the meal together and to end the day.

"We should slowly start bringing our supplies up to date," Rick skillfully changed the subject.

That was his less than subtle way of reducing the conversation to necessities.

"Or in other words, time for a run," Daryl said in a nutshell.

“Tightly sealable preserving jars would be important. It will soon be harvest time and we have to preserve the fruit and vegetables. Thank God we have a lot more than we need right now."

That was the first thing that came to your mind. After all, it was important to have vitamins in winter too. Even if cooked fruit and vegetables were nowhere near as tasty as fresh ones. But in those times, you were grateful for everything. And in winter, fruit and vegetables were actually a luxury.

“We should also think about how to heat the buildings. The winter could last longer than we'd like”, Daryl expressed his concerns.

"If we had animals, pigs or goats, maybe even sheep, we would be better supplied with meat."

Hershel had always been a farmer, and you could only agree with the man with a smile.

"Or chickens," said Maggie with a dreamy look, "once again a real roast chicken, that would be something nice."

"Or turkey," you added.

"I just think you can't find something like that on the next street corner," said Glenn, who now leaned over the map that Rick had spread out in the middle of the table.

"Well, the weekly cattle market will probably be canceled."

Daryl's cynical response made you roll your eyes.

"If ya keep doin’ this, these things will eventually get stuck," he said in your direction with a raised index finger.

"That's what my grandmother always meant," you said with a shrug, "and nothing has happened so far."

“You both sound like an old married couple. Really disgusting”, Carl shook himself.

You and Daryl looked at each other questioningly for a moment before you slapped the boy lightly on the back of the head at the same time - he on the right and you on the left.

For about five seconds there was absolute silence at the table, until everyone started laughing uproariously as if on command - except for Carl, who was rubbing his head tightly.

“What that would prove,” Rick grinned as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, “but seriously now. Does anyone have any ideas?"

“I know there was a farm supply center in the south. From seeds to packaging material to combine harvesters, everything was there. The only question is whether that still stands."

Hershel leaned over the map and pointed to an area southeast of the Prison.

“That's a good hundred miles, and only if you drive on the main roads. It will be a run for several days on back roads."

Your stomach cramped painfully at Glenn's words. You knew that Daryl would go on the run. Unfortunately, since the incident, it had become very clear to you that there was no assurance that someone would come back from a run. And the thought that something might happen to Daryl made you uneasy.

“While we're there, we might as well stop by this huge warehouse complex 30 miles to the east. I think there are still some useful things there. "

Glenn glanced at the place on the map Maggie was pointing with her finger.

"Wasn't that an Amazon warehouse?"

"Yea, why are you asking?"

"Well, I think that this time it won’t work with overnight express."

At Glenn's stupid saying you had to smile, like everyone else. Though yours was more of a bitter smile. This run would certainly not be overnight.

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

"Everythin’ okay? Ya are never that quiet."

It was getting late. The moon was shining through the windows of your shared room and you could hear the crickets outside. You were snuggled close to Daryl, your head on his shoulder, your legs intertwined. You stared in silence into the darkness of your room, which was only faintly illuminated by the moonlight.

Daryl gently stroked your back. Usually there was something incredibly calming about it, and it never took you long to fall asleep relaxed - but not today. The worries about what could go wrong with the run did not let you calm down that night.

In a few hours he would be gone with Maggie and Glenn, as well as a few others. The fear of losing him paralyzes your thoughts.

"Ya don’t sleep. I know that. I can hear ya thinkin’."

You did not answer, just took a deep breath - in and out again. What should you say?

> I'm afraid something will happen to you <

> I'm scared of losing you <

> Please don't go <

There was nothing to be said, just that nagging feeling was there. This fear that the man by your side could suddenly be snatched away from you.

Daryl put his arm around you and hugged you tight as he kissed the top of your head and let his lips linger there for a moment.

"We're a well-coordinated team," he finally began as he leaned his head against yours, "and it's not the first time we've done such a big tour."

It almost seemed as if Daryl had read your mind, yet all his confidence could not take away your worries.

"I promise I'll come back to ya."

"You can't promise that Daryl."

The archer released his hug and shifted his weight so that you were eventually half under him. Leaning on his left arm, he looked down at you, the contours of your face only faintly visible in the light of the darkness.

"I promise I will come back to ya Y/N. We both have our whole lives ahead of us, and I don't intend to miss a second of it."

"Nobody knows ..."

But you did not get any further, Daryl's lips were instantly on yours. At first the kiss was deep and full of longing, but after a while it became more and more hungry. Your fingers ran through his hair and played with them on the back of his neck while your tongues fought for dominance.

As Daryl's hands slowly moved down your ribs, your lips parted for a much-needed breath.

Right at the beginning of your relationship, you discussed that sex would not be an issue for you for the time being. After what had happened to Lori, Daryl simply could not and did not want to take the risk of pregnancy. Condoms were not to be found for a long time. And neither of you wanted to play Russian roulette - like Maggie and Glenn.

But there were other ways of showing how much you loved each other, how much you wanted each other - other ways of having fun together.

Daryl's right hand went down to your ass, which he gripped tightly as he pulled you close.

You moaned softly as you could feel him rubbing his growing erection on your most sensitive spot. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. An approving growl left his mouth as he left hot kisses on your neck, making sure to suck the spot that caused your thighs to tighten around him.

You ran your trembling fingers through his hair, trying to hold onto the feeling of his lips against your skin.

The hand on your ass eventually moved down the back of your thigh - as he pulled it closer - which changed the angle of your pelvis significantly. The lustful moan that came out of your lips as you rubbed against him only made him harder against the layers of clothing.

God how good it felt for him when you took your pleasure into your own hands. But you did not get far, because Daryl's kisses slowly wandered further down. A pleasant shiver ran through you.

You knew exactly what he was up to and the anticipation made you almost impatient.

But he took his time, first freed you from your shirt and then devoted himself to your nipples with relish - first the right, then the left - until they were both hard and upright.

The longing feeling in your most private place became more and more unbearable and in an attempt to get some friction, you tried to rub yourself against his thigh.

Daryl only chuckled.

"Impatient, are we?"

Daryl's kissed down your stomach before leaning back. He was now kneeling between your legs. For a moment he soaked up the picture in front of him, burned it into his memory. How you laid in front of him, lower lip between your teeth, breathing heavily, your legs spread, the unmistakable traces of your arousal on your underwear.

A moan came from your lips as he finally ran his hands up the inside of your thighs. Without touching the place where you needed him most, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and freed you from this annoying piece of fabric with one flowing movement.

The sight the archer now saw made his cock twitch painfully.

It was almost like torture how slowly he ran his thumb through your folds and collected what already glistened there.

With faltering breath, you watched him as he slowly brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb clean with an animalistic growl.

You came almost instantly at the sight.

When he finally sank his middle finger into you, you threw your head back and closed your eyes in delight. He pumped his finger into you a few times before adding a second. He twisted and curled them in just the right way so that with each thrust he perfectly hit the spot inside you that made you squirm under him.

Your moaning grew louder as he closed his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and began to suck rhythmically. Your orgasm rolled closer and closer, and the knot in your stomach tightened until it was about to snap.

"Daryl - fuck - I ..."

"then let go - for me."

And that was exactly what you did. You came with his name on your lips, repeated like a prayer, and with each new wave Daryl took whatever you were willing to give him. You tasted like nothing else to him, and he could never get enough of you.

He slowly kissed his way back up to your neck while his fingers were still moving slowly inside you.

Your hands went into his hair and hungrily drawn his lips to yours. Just a moment later your tongues fought for dominance; you could taste yourself on his. Now your hands slowly made their way down to his crotch. He wanted to hold back. But he could not help himself, and grinded into your palm to find the relief he needed so damn bad.

Daryl's hips spasmed, thrusting forward a few times before he was groaning and shaking his head.

"No. Tonight is just about ya."

"But ..."

Before you could go on, his lips were back on yours in a demanding kiss.

" I wanna make ya feel so good today, that ya'll be happy to have a few days off."

And with that statement, his fingers left your hot core, only to re-enter with one more.

Your eyes rolled back when you felt him stretch you.

"Fuck," you hissed as you tried desperately to find hold while Daryl's fingers kept trusting into you.

As he felt the sweet pain of your nails scratching his back, his cock twitched painfully in his shorts.

The thought that you marked him, that you would let him run around with declarations of your love on his body for the next few days, almost drove him mad. He started rubbing his crotch against your thigh for some relief as he fluidly moved in and out of you, getting you closer and closer to your next release.

The knot inside you got tighter and tighter, and you tried desperately to keep it from snaping again. Your legs started to shake involuntarily, and you knew you would not be able to resist much longer. Your breath came in shorter intervals and your moans got higher and higher. It would not last long till you would be swept away by pure bliss.

When the wave finally hit you, it was an overwhelming feeling. Your inner walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers again and again as your orgasm swept you away like a tsunami.

It took you a few moments to come back from your high while Daryl's gentle movements of his fingers let your orgasm slowly fade out.

"Okay", you began with a trembling voice as he slowly left your inner core, "that was something else."

Daryl’s head rested on the crook of your neck as you slowly recovered your breath, but you could still feel him chuckled lightly.

Slowly you stroked his hair and patted his neck. When he shifted his position slightly so that he did not crush you any further, you noticed that his shorts were suspiciously stuck to you.

Apparently, he had enjoyed this whole interaction too.

"I love you," you whispered before leaving a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

"Love ya more."

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

You patiently worked your way through the corn plants with the rake. The work was strenuous because the plants were close together - after all, you needed the greatest possible yield in a small area - and the relentless Georgian sun burned down on you.

Your hair stuck to you and the sweat kept dripping from the brim of your straw hat. Your arms ached, and despite the leather gloves you wore, you had blisters on your hands where they were tightly gripping the wooden handle of your gardening tool.

But despite everything, you kept working. You had to work through the soil so that the weeds had less chance to dispute the valuable nutrients from the crops.

This large field that you had laid out in the style of the "three sisters" was your whole pride. Corn, beans and pumpkins, the holy trinity of this bed, were perfectly coordinated. The Native Americans had already cultivated these three plants in this way.

And what worked for them could work for you too.

You have been toiling for hours. Your clothes were soaked in sweat and your back ached. Nevertheless, you continue to work, moving slowly but steadily through the beds.

"Here," you heard Rick say behind you at some point.

With great effort you straightened up and massaged your back. You felt every single vertebra as it slowly popped back into its original position. An exhausted moan could be heard as you finally turned to the man behind you.

Rick just stood there, bottle of water in hand, his eyes fixed on the fields.

You gratefully took the bottle from him and took a few sips of the refreshing liquid. Especially with such sweaty work in the blazing sun, it was incredibly important to drink enough if you did not want to suffer sunstroke.

And unfortunately, you were predestined to forget it sometimes. But Rick paid attention. You were family, and family looked after each other.

“Looks really good. If the plants continue to grow like this, we will be able to bring in quite a good yield. You are really a talented little farmer."

You looked at him in surprise with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not sure right now whether I should thank you or whether you insulted me."

“Believe me Y/N”, Rick laughed and put his hand on your shoulder, “that was meant as a compliment. An honest compliment. If we didn't have you, we almost certainly wouldn't even be able to harvest half as much. You really have a knack for it."

“Well, everyone does what they can. And I can do that."

You lowered your gaze. You felt uncomfortable when someone complimented you, so you tried to belittle it.

"No", Rick smiled at you friendly, "some do more than others."

After a long day of work and a long - but cold - shower, you sat down with Carol for dinner. You missed your family members. You missed Daryl.

The presence of the older woman had been a comfort to you in the last few days. This run had been going on for five days now, and it was impossible to tell when they would be back.

The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach was almost the same as when Daryl had disappeared into the forest with Merle. Back then you thought you would never see him again.

But it was different now. Now you had hope that you would see him again.

Maybe.

“It's only been five days Y/N/N. It's too early to worry,” Carol tried to cheer you up.

"I'm not worried," you said stubbornly while you continued to stare at your now cold food.

"Yes of course. That's exactly why you've been poking around in your meal for ten minutes. You haven't even taken a bite."

You looked tiredly at the woman across from you.

“Eat, you worked hard. And tomorrow you will work as hard again as I know you. You need the calories. And believe me, you'd rather eat it voluntarily than have me cram it into you."

Carol had used her best mother voice. Even if Carol was not many years older than you, this woman had somehow become a mother's substitute for you.

After a few moments you finally began to empty your bowl slowly.

Getting around the days was easy. There was always enough work in the gardens and in the fields, you were busy and did not have much time to think.

In the nights it was different. They were bad.

The bed was way too big for you alone, and you lacked the warmth of Daryl's body.

Even on the hot nights of Georgia, you always fell asleep snuggled together. Ever since you had spent your first night like this, you knew that you could never do it again without it.

Now you were alone. Yet again. Daryl was still on this fucking run, and the solitude in those four walls that you had always enjoyed before, now seemed overwhelming to you.

What is he doing right now? Was he okay? Was he thinking of you, too?

With these wistful thoughts, you finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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

"If they are not back by tomorrow, we will send a search party out," announced Rick over breakfast.

You made no reply as you continued to choke down your small portion of porridge, bite by bite. You were not really hungry, but Carol's stern look had kept you from skipping breakfast.

“I'm sure they are fine. They will definitely be back here soon, "said Hershel soothingly," they are all experienced with such actions. They are sure to be fine."

Yes, they were all experienced, knew how to behave and how to protect themselves, but that nagging feeling persisted in you.

You had spent the whole morning working in the fields again, laboriously dragging buckets of water to provide the crops with enough moisture. If it did not rain soon, this would probably be your main occupation for the next few days and weeks.

You had two canisters tied to the outer end of a thick wooden stick. So, you could carry the heavy burden on your shoulders and not in your aching hands.

As you were trudging up the hill again with a full load of water, Rick was leaning against the base of the central guard tower, smiling, and staring into the distance.

"Looks as if we could save ourselves the search."

These words made your body tingly and you immediately turned to face the gates. You could not prevent an unspeakably bright smile from spreading on your face.

"Oh my god," you whispered when you saw the column of cars approaching the prison.

An unmistakable chopper at the head of the convoy.

An army of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw Daryl. He was back. He really came back to you.

When he finally brought his bike to a stop and casually dismounted it, you couldn't hold back any longer. Without further hesitation, you dropped the water canisters, which hit the floor with a thud, and immediately spread their moist contents over the floor.

You ran quickly towards Daryl. But even before you had covered half the distance, he was already coming towards you - a radiant smile on his lips.

When you finally met, you immediately put your arms around each other in a tight hug. Your head rested on his chest while he laid his head lovingly on top of yours.

Cuddled so tightly you could hear how fast his heart was beating, and an indescribable feeling of happiness flooded your body. Daryl was back - back by your side.

"Did you miss me," he finally began, and you could hear him grinning right away.

“No,” you answered, “not at all. Not one bit."

“Felt the same way."

With these words, his strong arms tightened around you even more, as if he were trying to melt into you.

So absorbed in your reunion, it took some time until you noticed that Rick and Carol were already discussing the successful run with the rest of the group.

"We got almost everything," you heard Glenn say when you had finally separated from each other and now went to the cars where everyone else was standing - your little fingers still hooked together.

"We found hundreds of canning jars and even seeds," added Sasha.

"Wheat, oat and a lot more." Maggie pointed to the back of the overcrowded pickup truck.

"And we also solved the problem with the heating," said Daryl mysteriously.

This run was really a complete success. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

Suddenly the gushing and loud greeting was silent. Inquiring eyes met knowing faces.

You and Rick looked at each other as to ask if you really had heard this now.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

"What the hell is that", Rick wanted to know.

"What did it sound like?"

Daryl grinned mischievously and leaned casually against his bike; arms crossed over his chest. His chin raised challengingly.

"No," was all you could say at that moment.

"Yea," Daryl nodded, still grinning.

"No way!"

"Yea, a rooster and six chickens."

"How? Where? How?"

You were completely surprised and had to grin broadly. That was one of the best that could have happened to your community.

"Believe it or not, they were just walking around on a street corner," Glenn explained, looking incredulous about his statement himself.

"So the cattle market wasn't closed after all," you replied sarcastically.

Immediately Daryl had to roll his eyes.

"Just don't start with that," you chuckled and gave him a playful clap on the upper arm.

“You really missed something Y/N,” said Maggie with a grin, “believe me it was really impressive to see how Daryl caught the poultry. Didn't know that he was doing so well as a farmer."

"Yea, ha-ha, very funny!"

Daryl's ears had turned deep red, but then he had to laugh himself at the thought of this chicken-catching operation.

"I really would have liked to see that," you said with a laugh.

"Well, maybe there will be a repetition," said Glenn, "we have to get the critters out of the car somehow without them getting lost again."

"Ya can forget that right away," Daryl announced in a stern voice.

"Don't worry, I'll help you", you smiled at your boyfriend.

After a few minutes of reunion, you started to get the supplies out of the cars and to distribute them in the storage rooms.

Building a chicken coop was definitely on your to-do list for tomorrow. And it has been a long time since you had been looking forward to a job as much as this.

"And I found something for you too," Maggie whispered to you when she put her arm around your shoulders in a friendly manner.

You two had just cleared away a load of canning jars and were about to trot back to the cars.

"And that would be?"

Surprised you stopped and looked at her questioningly. You did not ask her to get you anything.

“I won't tell you yet,” she smiled, “but you will definitely enjoy it - as well as Daryl."

With these words, your best friend left you in the yard as she made her way back to the cars with a mischievous grin.

Part one Part tree

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon twd #daryl x y/n

[eqt-95]

One Night in Gotham

Summary | On the eve of taking over as the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor makes a trip across the bay to Gotham to see an old friend.

-----

"Now what is a delicate flower like you doing all alone at the bar?"

Lena stifled a sigh of annoyance at the brazenness of strangers. This kind of thing wouldn't happen in Metropolis.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Lena silently lifted her glass, indicating none was required.

Her eyes flitted up toward the bartender distracted by another patron, and she wondered for a moment how this man had been allowed into the private hotel bar. This was interrupted by the sound of the high-back chair next to her scraping against the marble flooring followed by the creak of the stranger posting up next to her. He reeked of booze and sounded winded by the exertion of the simple gesture.

"Well then perhaps I'll just buy myself a drink and enjoy the view," he smiled, exposing yellow-stained teeth behind the grizzly shag that covered his cheeks and chin.

No, this kind of thing would never happen in Metropolis.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Free country, honey," he chuckled into a cough that echoed with the wetness of two packs a day.

Lena was used to all kinds of people. Although few and far between some were genuinely kind. Some were naive fools who could be talked out of house and home. Others were snake-oil salesmen, hiding behind earnestness. And then there were those who lacked any sort of self-awareness, boldly trying to claim what wasn't theirs in the process. These were the kind of people she'd spent the last few weeks battling, and she was exhausted from it.

She opened her mouth to articulate how unwelcome his presence was when a warm hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hey babe," came a voice behind her, and Lena smirked.

"Darling, you made it," Lena replied, turning in her seat toward the tall figure clad in leather with a helmet dangling from one hand.

"Sorry I'm late," came an apology.

Before Lena could play it off, she was caught by the feel of lips were pressed against her own. She peripherally heard the clatter of the helmet land on the bar before two warm hands slid up, cupping her face and turning the quick kiss into something more entirely. Initial surprise faded into confusion which then faded into the warm, flush lips on hers and the tongue greedily fighting for something more. She gave in on instinct, and was rewarded with the slight nip against her bottom lip and the unfamiliar taste of Kate Kane.

Whether time had suspended or continued to tick away, Lena wasn't certain, but when Kate finally pulled back and their eyes met she felt an unexpected warmth at the mischief glowing back at her.

"Can I help you?" Kate asked, finally breaking from Lena and turning to the stranger.

His face had frozen, stuck in a contorted look of envy and disgust. "N-no."

"No? Great," Kate continued smoothly. "Do you mind though? Because you're in my seat."

Lena glanced back at her half-empty drink trying to contain the smile that threatened to break at the man's discomfort. A few begrudging seconds passed before the figure folded and heaved himself out of the chair, sauntering off toward the far, empty end of the bar.

The long fingers that had just sent Lena's cheeks flush slid around her glass, lifting it to her nose before smirking and tossing the rest back.

"You have good taste," Kate remarked, setting the empty glass back down and waving over the bartender.

"Do you normally use that much tongue?"

"I was trying to make a point."

"I think a hug would have sufficed plenty."

"This is Gotham. We're more animalistic here; nothing like your fancy Metropolis folk," Kate smirked, ordering another pair of Scotches. "You can't mince words otherwise you leave them with deranged hope."

"That's not my problem."

"It isn't until you're leaving at the end of the night and get yanked into a dark alley because he's been lingering for hours taking that last remaining thread of hope and weaving it into some deep-seeded, confounding belief that you were meant for him."

"Speaking from experience?"

Kate shrugged.

"So instead you go for a full make-out session in the middle of a very public hotel bar."

"You're a quick study, Luthor."

Lena hummed impatiently.

"Besides, now I've got something to strike off my bucket list."

"What's that?"

"Lena Kieran Luthor kissed me."

"I'd hardly say that. I believe you instigated, and I was struck in a moment of surprise."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'wooed'. I wooed you."

A stoic look with a hint of skepticism stared back at Kate.

"How long have we known each other?"

"I think that depends on what you mean by 'known'."

"And in all those years," Kate continued, ignoring Lena's analytical response, "how many times have you been floored by my charm?"

"Never once. Not even in the slightest," Lena deadpanned.

Kate scoffed in exaggerated disbelief. "You have, you're just too uptight to have any fun. What about that time I punched Lex?"

"I was eight."

"Your point?"

"Mostly I was mortified."

"I bet that's even the word you used to describe it. Did you walk out of the womb a genius?"

"You joke, but Mother was outraged. To this day she practically spits whenever she hears the Kane name."

"Is she still alive?" Kate smirked into her glass. "It's not my fault she raised such an egotistical snob. Beth told him 'no' a dozen times. If he couldn't hear words, I figured he could hear a fist crushing his nose."

"That's not how he tells it."

"Because he can point to so much precedent for honesty," Kate replied dryly. Lena felt herself flinch, and Kate's demeanor softened. "Sorry."

"He wasn't always an ass."

"Sometimes people just… spiral."

"Speaking of, are you back for good?"

Kate shook her head. "Just passing through."

"Special occasion?"

"A wedding," she answered, quickly draining the rest of her drink.

"Was it nice?"

"Don't know." The empty glass was lifted toward the bartender. "Just leave the bottle."

This was the part of Kate that Lena loved and hated. They were both raised in over-sized homes with curated lifestyles and a litany of archaic topics they could talk endlessly about, but the concept of speaking about their personal lives was a loss to both of them. It was a familiar feeling that echoed deep into Lena's core, and she took no offense to Kate's aloofness - she was cut from the same cloth.

"Where to next?"

"France," she answered.

"Sounds romantic."

"Sure," Kate chuckled at some unspoken joke.

"Does anyone else actually know you're in town?"

Kate shook her head again.

"You've been away for a while."

"Miss me?" Kate smirked, and Lena saw the telltale signs of deflection through humor. Yes, they were practically carbon copies of each other. Different around the edges, but traces of the same upbringing formed matching foundations.

"Haven't had the time."

It was honesty that would seem cryptic to anyone else, but Kate nodded in understanding.

They sat in silence for a moment, Kate shuffling the glass across the smooth, lacquered finish of the bar.

"When do you-"

"Next week," Lena interrupted with a practiced tone.

"Nervous?"

"I am excited about the potential of-" Lena began before catching Kate's unamused expression. It was enough to silence the curated response she'd spouted for weeks to reporters, board members, and potential funders. "Yes."

It was a single word, but it was an admission she'd kept contained in a tiny box under the mountain of to-dos that guided her days and late nights. She glanced down at the dwindling drink in front of her, suddenly appreciative Kate had the foresight to keep the bottle.

"Good," Kate replied, now swirling the glass between her fingers.

"Good?"

"I'd be worried if you weren't."

"That's not how some would see it."

"Lillian doesn't really get a say."

"Mother isn't the only resistance. God knows I've stopped trying to prove anything to her, but it's more than just her now. It's board members. It's the public. It's the very people employed by the company. I am… I am not ready for this."

Lena didn't know where the admission was coming from, but now it felt like a spigot had been pulled open, and every reservation she had about becoming the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

"I'm 22," she said, and it felt like a confession - like no one had uncovered this hidden truth about Lena, and she was one big headline away from the rug being pulled from under her.

"You know what I was doing when I was 22?" Kate asked, preemptively refilling Lena's drink. "I was getting kicked out of school and spending my nights bouncing from one dive bar to another."

"I'm not sure what your point is, but I think it serves my argument better than yours," Lena scowled. "22 year-olds shouldn't be in charge of anything."

"My point is, you're not normal," Kate clarified. "If I was asked to run a company at 22, I'd be an idiot not to run in the opposite direction. But that's because I was a normal 22 year-old. One hundred percent of the world was a normal 22 year-old."

"Again, I'm not sure your argument is-"

"The reason it's one hundred percent is because I'm rounding. I'd need to rattle off, like, a hundred nines to make my point. You're the one in seven billion meant to do this."

"Seven."

"What?"

"Seven nines. After the decimal."

Kate stared dumbly for a moment before breaking in laughter. "You really are a freak. And you've just made my point for me."

"Mental math isn't a reason."

"No, but your persistence is."

"Haven't you heard? I'm a Luthor; can't be trusted."

Kate sighed, and Lena watched her mentally struggle to find the words to say. It was different than other times Lena had met Kate. Granted, they weren't close. After Lex's nose was bloodied and Lillian's disdain made known, the Kanes and Luthors rarely interacted. From that point on, the majority of their interactions were limited to formal galas and parties of similarly rich families, bouncing from one side of the bay to the other in their efforts to impress the extents of their wealth onto others. Kate always had a knack for slipping out and getting into some sort of trouble while Lena was petrified at the thought of disappointing Lillian.

When Kate's sister and mother died, Lena 'had the audacity' to ask if they would attend the funerals. Lillian refused, but Lex persuaded her otherwise, suggesting that it would be politically good to show sympathy for the Kane family. It was perverse but worked, and Lena was eternally grateful. It was that dark day that struck up an uncanny relationship between the Kane and the Luthor.

It had been nearly three years since their paths had crossed - the longest stretch of time since Kate was thirteen and Lena ten. Lena knew Kate's absence was due to world-traveling, but the details were sparse. Whispers at the latest galas spoke of general disappointment for the Kane daughter. Like Lena, Kate was the black sheep. Unlike Lena, Kate didn't seem to care.

"You're a Luthor, yes," Kate began. "You're honestly from a pretty shitty family. I have first-hand experience, and even without that the headlines have done a damn good job at making the average person aware of it. The company is in shatters, Lex is going to prison, and Lillian isn't human. I mean, she's really truly terrible. Like… is she human? Because when we were kids, I half wondered."

"That's not really-"

"Hang on, I'm getting off topic," Kate waved away. "Yes, you're a Luthor. Yes, the world is against you. Yes, it'll be hard; I won't even pretend to know how you'll do it, but you will. I also know I'm not saying anything you can't deduce on your own. I won't waste our time with talk of your talent, your genius, your raw determination, or the sacrifices you're making to turn Lex's sins into something good. Those reassurances mean nothing to you because you aren't ready to see it yet, and I'm not the person who can help you hear it."

"That's not even remotely close to advice, not to mention helpful advice."

"I didn't say it would be advice or helpful. If it was, I'd charge you for it."

"Are you offering?"

"Are you paying?"

"Depends on the advice."

"Clever. We'll make a decent CEO out of you yet."

Conversation flowed more easily from there. The edges were softened and the curated exteriors peeled back as the bottle slowly dwindled into nothing. The void of years spent apart was slowly filled in with stories of failures, happy accidents, lovers, and reminiscing.

There was an easy comfort with Kate that always took hold; she wasn't trying to pretend to be anything special and there were never any expectations. It made for a breath of fresh air when Lena's world revolved around accuracy, planning ahead, and keeping face. Kate lived life like a game of casual checkers. Lena lived her's for the chess match it was. But for one night, on the eve of her formally stepping into her new life, she played checkers.

Lena should have known better than to assume the interaction would end after a single drink, and she was only slightly surprised when the bartender came by with the bill. She looked around realizing the bar had emptied; for how long it had been just the two of them she didn't know. She also didn't care.

They paid the tab but lingered a while longer, fighting off the real world for a few precious moments until finally, the staff politely advised that, while they didn't have to go home, they couldn't stay here.

"You aren't driving, right?" Lena asked, gesturing at the helmet left forgotten on the bar.

"No, 'here' is home tonight," Kate replied lightly, albeit with a slight slur.

"I'm sure your dad would like to see you."

"Jacob would like a lot of things."

Lena nodded, recognizing the window had closed.

"Any chance I can woo you again, Ms. Luthor?" Kate asked with a cheesy smirk. "I've got a fancy suite with a bed and stuff."

Yes, the light-heartedness was still there but it fell into their respective roles.

"That's your pick-up line? I expected more from you."

Kate pondered for a moment. "Ok, how about this: I wasn't sure if you were a beautiful angel or a sexy devil, but now that I'm close, I see heaven in your eyes."

"Does that actually work?"

"Fifty-fifty? A guy used it on me once."

"And?"

"Well, obviously it didn't work with him, but I tried it a few nights later… and, yea," Kate smirked, "it worked."

"Years at Military school, and you didn't lose an ounce of confidence," Lena sighed, tossing back the rest of her own drink and grabbing her jacket.

The entrance came far too quickly, and the door swung open to reveal the murkiness of the city night beyond.

"Huh, it's raining," Kate said, gesturing for Lena to exit ahead of her.

"It's pouring."

"It's Gotham."

"It never rains this much in Metropolis." Lena mumbled it in frustration, trying to excuse her lack of preparedness to the foreignness of her surroundings.

The sound of a soft click and thwoop came, followed by an invisible shield deflecting the incoming rain drops. Lena glanced up and saw the city was blocked out by a stretch of black fabric.

"How are you getting back?" Kate asked, holding the handle of the umbrella suspended over them.

"My driver should be here in a minute."

Kate whistled softly, muted by the avalanche of raining falling around them. "Fancy CEO privileges."

Lena forced a smile, feeling the familiar pull of stress and weight of worry return to her shoulders. She glanced back at the hotel lobby; the warm light, the soft chairs, the comforting sting of alcohol, and the laughter. For a moment she had forgotten, and in this moment she wanted to forget again.

"You'll be great. And I hope one day you'll find someone who can get you to see who you are Lena. You're a Luthor, yes, but you're so much more than a name."

Lena's eyes were pulled back to the voice next to her, and she found herself staring into Kate's piercing green eyes. Even through the haze of alcohol they were focused and confident. Focused was something Lena was very familiar with; confidence though? Hardly. Years of Lillian's cutting words had stripped her of that. But in depriving her of it, she'd acquired something better: persistence.

Kate's gaze didn't waver. Instead something else appeared, and it took all of Lena's brain to comprehend what it was: it was admiration. It was unfamiliar, and if it weren't for years of being trained as a Luthor, she'd have averted her eyes to the nearest distraction.

"If you're ever in National City, give me a ring."

"And if you're ever back in Gotham-"

"Unlikely."

"-immediately turn around and leave," Kate finished, and Lena felt her lips fight against her facade to curl into a smile at the deprecating humor. "Besides, I won't be around so who is there to see?"

"I'm sure any one of the millions of Gothamites would be a suitable substitute for Kate Kane."

"At least you didn't include the entire world."

"Only because you didn't offer," Lena shot back, and for a moment the masks fell back off, and they let laughter be swallowed into the city around them.

It settled when a black car slowed to a stop in front of them, and Lena felt the tug of life return.

"As usual, you've gotten me tipsier than I'd planned, Kate Kane."

"It was my pleasure Lena Luthor," Kate smiled, reaching for the car door and swinging it open.

Lena hesitated, feeling the wash of new car smell and air conditioning waft from the car and mix with the city and humidity. Her fingers gripped the edge of the door, feeling the drips of water mix with the dirt that had accumulated.

She didn't know the words to say to express her appreciation. Kindness wasn't something she'd been exposed to and so never quite knew how to articulate the swirling, changing web of emotions that fought to be seen. A life of compartmentalizing had cast these feelings off into the tiniest of boxes in the shadow of her mind, and she knew that a week from now the warmth and friendship she felt tonight would be a distant memory. It wasn't enough to change her, but it was enough to remind her that she could.

"Thank you," she said before stretching up on her toes to close the gap between her lips and Kate's cheek, leaving a soft kiss and silencing Kate before she could cast back a signature sarcastic response. "Now you can strike it off your bucket list."

- eqt_95 on ao3

#Batwoman #supergirl #kate kane #lena luthor #kate & lena #fanfic #oneshot #crossover

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

*brings you in closer* “it’s just really cold sorry.” (with anyone who wants to cooperate? I just needs some floof. If you can/want. If not it's cool. I know I send in a lot)

Awww, I love it. And you know damn well I will ALWAYS do your requests, hun. Thank you for the fluffy ask :) Prompt will be bolded.

Marvel Kiddos: Luka Barnes and Elena Lokisdaughter

Summary: Luka and Elena aren’t exactly the popular people in their teams, but the younger kids have an idea to make the evening a little better.

Word Count: 1130 words

Warnings: None. It’s fluff!! And Halloween!! And cuddles!!!

--

Maybe

No one had expected to stick around this long. Quick smarts weren’t working. Typical hero stunts left them at a loss. And now they were stuck – fighting heroes left and right and feeling…desperate. But leave it to the younger ones to remind them that the holidays were a thing.

The Parker kids, all friends pretty quick, were determined to decorate. And of course N’Dazhne and N'Daré were eager to help. It was weird. The tension that had been there the past weeks seemed to only remain with a few. Tugging at the backs of their minds and reminding them that they didn’t belong here.

And no, they didn’t.

But the twinkling purple and orange lights? The fake, exaggerated spiderwebs? Spooky skeletons and kids laughing because the smell of pumpkin was everywhere? It made things feel…not so bad. Elena watched Henrietta, smiling and laughing and making her hot chocolate. She looked over her shoulder when she recognized a familiar intro, amused when she saw Jorund had picked out Hocus Pocus.

It was probably for all the wrong reasons, but he seemed excited.

“You look thoughtful.”

Elena’s head whipped around, amusement glimmering in her eyes when one of the others…Luka? Handed her a mug of what she guessed was cider. “I feel like we all still need nametags.”

Luka laughed, dipping his head ever so slightly. “Considering your team is the biggest, that would make sense.” He sipped at his own whiskey. Where he had gotten his hands on that, she wasn’t sure. “Elena, right?”

“Yeah. You’re friends with – “

“Frigga. One of the other Loki-kids. You know, I wouldn’t have expected your old man to get around so much.”

Elena snorted, taking a sip of her own drink. “Well,” she muttered. “He is the God of Mischief.”

The timer went off, pulling them out of their conversation. The interruption was none other than Nathan’s cookies finished. He spun around with them, lifting the massive tray just in time to avoid a quick sweep from Oscar’s hands. “Hey!” He nodded his head, taking a step back. “Buzz off. They aren’t finished yet.”

Luka grimaced. “It’s so fucking loud.” The bitter tone in his voice and the fact that he was here, on the outskirts of the chaos, reminded Elena just how awkward it felt to not exactly…fit in.

“Come on. We can finish decorating the front.”

He chuckled. “You’re actually supporting this? The decorating thing?” She didn’t bother responding, simply leading the way. Luka huffed softly, downing the rest of his whiskey before he followed after her.

--

“I feel like you could just magic this up here,” he told her, looking down from the massive ladder they had found. He had been put on decorating the higher levels while she organized some jack-o-lanterns and other odd-ball decorations.

Really, their jobs should be reversed.

“I could, but…” She looked up at him, smirking as one of the jack-o-lanters flew to one of the higher shelves. Luka chuckled, shaking his head. “I really don’t want to.”

They spent an hour decorating. If they were being honest, it was Elena telling Luka where to put things and him listening. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have told them to shove it. But Elena? She wasn’t so bad.

He glanced back at her, smirking when he saw her catch a skeleton moments before it could fall over.

She really…really wasn’t so bad.

“You guys need any help?”

The two looked up, Luka reaching for his knife and Elena’s eyes sparking purple. There, wide eyed and hands raised, stood T’Chané.

He looked from one to the other, raising a brow. “Uh…You two are paranoid.”

Luka rolled his eyes. The knife in hand twirled between fingers before he tucked it out of sight. Meanwhile, Elena forced herself to relax. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Halloween kinda needs webs. Figured the real thing would be easier than the fake stuff.”

Luka shrugged. “Works for me.” He jumped off the ladder, landing silently.

Elena raised a brow. “Show off.”

“We’ll leave you to it, Web-head,” he called, looping an arm around Elena’s shoulders.

“Wait, that wasn’t what I – “ But it was too late. Luka had already led Elena away and back to the others. T’Chané’s shoulders slumped, tongue poking his cheek as he looked around. Grumbling to himself, “That wasn’t what I meant.”

--

The smell of cookies and hot chocolate filled the air, mixed with the warm caramel wafting through. It seemed Nathan had finished up the cookies and was now putting the last touches on some caramel apples. Hocus Pocus was over and they were just in time. Jensen had picked Addams Family, completely unaware of the fact that Oscar was watching his every move.

“You guys going to watch with us?” Mila looked at Luka expectantly, knowing very well that it was a rare day he would ever say no to her.

He sighed, gesturing to the couch. “You first,” he told Elena.

She took her seat, curling up in the corner and grabbing a pillow to cling to. Luka watched with a raised brow. He hadn’t expected her to choose a position so…childish. Not after her earlier snark and teasing. But he didn’t comment, finding it rather sweet. Instead, he took the offered seat next to her.

She was warm. Crossing a leg and stretching his arm over the back of the couch, he watched as the opening credits to the newest movie settled in. He glanced to the kids, amused by their buzzing excitement. It made them, the “grown-ups” feel like this wasn’t so bad. Hell, it almost felt like a good thing.

Turning his attention back to the tv, he snatched one of the cookies off the table and sat back. His team really wasn’t domestic like this. They weren’t a “family” or kind to each other. Well… He glanced at Nathan, amused by the hot-chocolate moustache on his lip.

He was definitely the exception. Not the rule though.

Luka jumped slightly when he felt warmth shift closer to him. He glanced down, surprised to see that Elena had used her magic to pull him closer while also moving herself. “You okay,” he asked, amusement lacing those two words. A part of him wanted to tease her.

She nodded, eyes still watching the screen. “Sorry, it’s just really cold.”

And then the little witch had to go and say that. Luka gulped, an odd sort of nervousness settling over him. Why? She was just… Okay, he knew why.

Luka shrugged, tugging her even closer. The pillow that had been in her lap now rested on both their legs. “Not a problem.”

Maybe this really could be a good thing? Maybe.

--

Autumn Prompts

Marvel Kiddos

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day Seven

Day Seven of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Fem! Reader

Prompt- “Are we friends?” “No.”

Warnings- Drinking? Dean being illegally attractive?

Wordcount- 2,050

           You’re sitting in the bunker with Charlie for your rare movie night. Things haven’t been settled enough for the two of you to really see each other, between the last world-ending event, your normal hunts, and Charlie’s responsibilities as Queen of a LARP Kingdom. Ahead of you waits a movie marathon- you would bet money Charlie picked Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings series- girl talk, and movie snacks, and even better, a night off from ganking monsters or stitching yourself and the boys up. 

               Sam and Dean had even left the bunker for the night, going to have some “brotherly bonding”, which you suspected was a cover for probably getting themselves arrested, absolutely piss-drunk, or both. “Alright, up for some Harry Potter?” Charlie exclaims, already sliding the disc into the large telly Dean had hooked up to what he and Sam called the “Dean-cave” (you refused to call it that). “Obviously. While we watch, you can finish telling me all about this girl you met.” You tease, wiggling your brows playfully at your red-headed best friend. Charlie laughs and agrees, and you grab the popcorn and change into your pyjamas.

               You were both laughing so hard your stomach ached over the story of your latest hunt- on which Dean had tripped right into the grave you’d dug, and the lid of a coffin had closed, trapping him with a skeleton- when the bunker doors open, familiar footsteps clunking down the stairs. “Y/N? Charlie?” Dean calls, peering into the room. “Hey, Dean. What are you doing back so early?” You ask, turning to face him questioningly. “Stealing my popcorn, apparently!” Charlie gasps, looking affronted as Dean reaches over to steal a handful of her popcorn. You laugh, and Dean winks, quickly munching on the popcorn with an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Friends share, Charlie.” He states seriously. “Are we friends?” Charlie asks, and now it’s Dean’s turn to act offended. “No. Apparently, Y/N is the only nice one here.” Dean huffs, green eyes narrowing at Charlie as he crosses his arms over his chest. You snicker and shove the tall hunter’s shoulder playfully. “Who says I’m nice?” You quip, raising a brow. “Unbelievable. You two are- are ganging up on me!” Dean shouts, throwing his hands in the air, and directing a glare at you and Charlie, while you only gave an innocent smile. “Payback for interrupting girl’s night. Now get out, Winchester, unless you want to hear all about my date from last week!” You smirk, Dean’s ears going red as he mumbles inaudibly and whirls around. “I am gone!” He calls from over his shoulder.

            You and Charlie laugh at Dean’s expense before you turn back to watch the movie, except her playful smirk that can only mean she’s up to no good is now directed at you. “What? I don’t like it when you look at me like that, Char.” You say nervously. “Oh, nothing. It’s just interesting, is all.” Charlie shrugs nonchalantly, her smirk only growing. “What.” You demand, less a question and more an order now. “You and Dean. How long has that been going on?” Charlie questions eagerly, leaning closer to you. You nearly choke on air. “Me- Dean and- What?!” You sputter, eyes as wide as moons. “Oh, please, Y/N, as your best friend, it is my sacred duty to inform you that you two are making major heart-eyes at each other. It’s kinda gross, actually, in a cute way.” Charlie snorts, rolling her eyes at your apparent obliviousness. “Charlie, I think you’ve been watching too many rom-coms.” You scoff. “Y/N, are you serious? You can tell me, I swear I won’t say anything.” Charlie pleads, giving you a pair of puppy-dog eyes almost as convincing as Sam’s. You sigh, realizing she isn’t giving up, and resign yourself to your fate.

          “Alright, fine, you got me. I may, sort of, just a wee bit, kind of... fancy Dean.” You admit. “But if you tell anyone, or even think about it near him, Charlie, I swear to God, I will bloody murder you!” You rush out, panicking at the thought she might let something slip. You loved Charlie, but she was kind of awful at keeping things hush-hush, and you would die from embarrassment if Dean ever found out about your not-so-platonic feelings for him. “I knew it! This is like, amaze-balls, Y/N! In the books the tension was so unreal, and in person, it’s killing me! Dean is totally crushing on you!” Charlie squeals, her face lighting up at your admission. “Holy Batman, you guys are just so cute together! You have to tell him!” Charlie insists. “Charlie, you’re insane. We get along great, and our friendship is really important to me. I’m not going to risk that because of some stupid feelings. Look, Char, I love for trying to convince me to take the chance, but it just isn’t gonna happen, and that’s okay. I’d rather be Dean’s friend than a hook-up or something.” You sigh. “But Y/N, I’m totally serious! You should see the way he looks at you-” “I’m attractive, and I’m a woman. Of course he looks at me. Lust and love are two very different things, Char. Can we- can we just drop it, please?” You ask, mood much more subdued now. “Okay. You’re wrong, though. You’re the Hermione to Dean’s Ron.” Charlie says softly, letting the topic go and playing the next movie.

               What neither of you know is that Dean had walked back, about to inform you of the next hunt, and heard everything from your threat on Charlie’s life, to Charlie’s weird, Harry Potter-themed comparison. Dean stood frozen in the hall, and almost dropped his beer in utter shock, his swift reflexes preventing him from being caught. He was glad no one saw him, because he was sure he’d turned a brighter red than Charlie’s hair, eyes bugging out of his head. Dean had been harboring the world’s biggest crush on you since the moment you’d met- first time the Winchester brothers saw you, you were spattered with blood (whose blood it was was impossible to tell) and had just eradicated a nest of at least five vampires, alone, and Dean was pretty sure he’d frozen and stared at you for a full minute- and had kept it to himself (except Sam, who somehow knew about Dean’s feelings before Dean knew about Dean’s feelings) the entirety of the four years he’d known you. The whole time, he didn’t think for a second you might feel the same way. For a split-second, he wondered if he was dreaming, the surprise of hearing you say out loud that you, Y/N L/N, actually fancied him, Dean Winchester, making his head spin and heart rate accelerate dangerously. And he knew exactly what he had to do.

                You and Charlie had shoved Dean Winchester and all relating topics aside, completely focused on catching up on all that you’d missed, and laughing over inside-jokes and the movies. “Hey, I just had a great idea.” You say suddenly. “What?” Charlie demands excitedly, smiling wide. “Snacks are great and all, but what would really make this a party is some tequila.” You grin, eyes bright with mischief. Tequila was Charlie’s weakness- two glasses in, and she’d be three sheets to the wind, and singing loudly and off-key whatever horrible pop song came into her head for hours, until she eventually passed out. “Absolutely not!” Charlie denies instantly. “Knew you’d say that. You’re no fun.”, you say with a smile, “but if you insist on denying me my own private concert, I’ll break out the cheap booze instead.” You finish. “Be right back! And don’t watch without me!” You shout warningly, Charlie giggling behind you and claiming she made no such promises. 

              You were still grinning as you made your way to the kitchen and the cabinet which housed bottles of cheap, but effective, alcohol. Rummaging through your options and humming classic rock to yourself, you didn’t notice someone else entering the room. “I hope you two aren’t drinking tequila. I don’t think I can handle a three-hour repeat of Charlie singing “Walking on Sunshine” again.” Dean’s low voice chuckles, the sound of his warm timbre sending warmth to your cheeks instantly as you recall the conversation about him from earlier. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. Just some trashy vodka tonight. I think the trick is to get her drunk before mentioning the tequila so she won’t be so sensible and say no.” You laugh, turning around with the bottle in your hand. Your breath catches at how close Dean is, close enough to count every freckle, to see every colour in his unfairly gorgeous messy green eyes. Your nervous smile falters under the intensity of his gaze- normally, when he’s as focused and determined, it’s because he’s staring down some demon or monster. Now he’s staring at you, and the air feels charged, and then his eyes drop from yours to your lips. It’s an effort not to let the glass bottle slip from your hand to the wood floor, and you should probably get going, really shouldn’t be doing this, but the rational part of your brain is drowned out in the overwhelming wave of Dean, and his smell, like good whiskey and leather and gasoline, and his eyes, which were seriously too beautiful to even be possible, and the way he was looking at you. He moves, and this time, you do drop the bottle, thankful for Dean’s quick reflexes as he catches it, and places it behind him on the island without looking, his plump lips crashing onto yours, stubble scratching your cheeks in a way that ignites a blaze of fire in your belly. 

            You kiss back just as passionately, all teeth and tongue and hands that map your body but stay above the waist in a way that’s so gentlemanly and so not. Just as swiftly as the kiss began, Dean ends it, pulling away barely, so you’re breathing the same air, chests heaving. It’s silent for a long moment, just staring at one another, your mind replaying the scene a million times. “You should get back to Charlie.” He murmurs, looking dazed and unfocused, but his eyes are still fixed on you. “Yeah.” You nod, suddenly insecure- was this his way of changing his mind, letting you know the kiss had been a mistake. Something in your expression or flashing through your eyes must give you away, because Dean gently cups your jaw in his rough, warm hand. “Hey,” he says, making you meet his eyes again, the green of them turned dark and hungry, but he’s looking at you with such tenderness, too, “you and me, we’re gonna talk, and I’m gonna kiss you again, probably a lot, but if you don’t walk out of this kitchen soon, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.” Dean says roughly, drinking you in. You suppress a shiver at the insatiable look in his eyes, the firm set to his jaw, and carefully step around him. 

                 You take the vodka bottle, and grip it so tight your knuckles turn white, like it’s the only thing keeping you from jumping the hunter right there in the kitchen. Dean watches your every move, and at the threshold, you look back at him. “So, I take it you fancy me then, right?” You ask, needing to hear confirmation. His lips draw into a smirk, and you want to kiss the smug expression off his face. “Give Charlie a thank you for me. Never been so glad for her Harry Potter references in my life.” Dean replies, watching in amusement as you flush red, realizing he heard you little talk with Charlie. “Hope she wasn’t spendin’ the night.” “Why’s that?” You dare to ask. “’Cause we’ve got plans.” Dean smirks, cocking a brow at you, waiting for you to tell him if he was crossing a line. “I’ve seen Harry Potter too many times anyways.” You mutter, meeting his cocky grin with one of your own, and quickly leaving the kitchen.

             “Charlie, I will never doubt you again, as long as I live.” “Well, good, but what happened?” “You and Sam hang out tonight.” “Huh? But- sleepover! Why?” “I’ve got plans.”

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting​

#ibw: hello spring 2020 #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #y/n

[justhereforseverus]

A Rose by any Other Name Would Smell as Sweet

Chapter 2: The Fault is not in our Stars but in Ourselves

Summary:

Severus Snapes agrees to help our young arts professor with a sleeping potion. However, this won't help her for the current night and she decides to visit the gardens to have a look at the stars. One familiar dark and brooding professor joins her unexpectedly...

Notes:

In a rush of creativity and energy I actually finished the second chapter on the same day as the first. Beware, this bench will be visited maaaannnyyy times and there will be many more cringy Shakespeare quotes to come. Thank you for reading!

Chapter Text

He sat at his desk over a pile of papers. The school year has just started but I guess if you’re giving pages upon pages of essays because you’re a strict teacher, you also have quiet a lot to do from the start. I preferred to give more reading and then expect everyone to discuss the work in class. He looked up when I entered but then relaxed his manner and redirected his eyes back towards the essays. “I didn’t expect you Prof. (y/n). Thought it was one of these annoying first years bothering me again with silly questions.” – he ended writing a sentence with his quill and put the feather away in the ink pot with a swift and almost over-exaggerated gesture. Gosh, that man could have been a brilliant actor playing dandy villains… He folded his hands together and put them on the desk, saying “Take a seat” and gestured to the chair in front of him. I felt like one of his students before the oncoming storm of detention but quickly reminded me of the fact that I’m a grown-up, I’m his colleague, we’re even roughly the same age and oh God I gotta say something… get yourself tooogeeethhherr…..

I stuttered: “Yes, Dumbledore sent me to you. I have some trouble sleeping and he suggested you could make a potion helping me with that? Only if you’ve got the time.. I don’t want to burden you with more work. But I was thinking it might be good idea to try. I’m thankful for any help, really… ehm…yeah….” Welp, that have been way too many words. Why is he making me so nervous? I’m usually quite good at playing the professional, reasonable grown up without anxiety functioning on 2 hours of sleep. “I see…”, he said looking around in thought. “Are these problems common or have they never existed before? Maybe it’s just some.. nervousness about a new environment?” – wow ok, that sounded condescending but let’s just ignore that. I told him that these problems, unfortunately, are normal for me. Though they have been a bit more extreme than lately. Awkward pause. He stood up and went to his shelves, taking one or two different coloured bottles. He arranged them on one of the working desks and looked at them for a few seconds in silence. Then he shifted his head towards me and replied “Yes, I think I know one potion that might help you. – he nodded looking at the bottles - I’ll need some time to prepare it though. I’ll get back to you tomorrow morning, if that’s alright with you?” – I nodded and said yes. “Fantastic. In the meantime, I’d try to work on whatever the root cause is. Constant use of potions are not an ideal solution nor will I be able to mix you one all the time.” – he said sternly and then told me I might leave now. I rushed out of the classroom with a nod and a rather quiet “Thank you”.

Ok, so that’s been handled well.. more or less. I was glad that I might get some relief but he’s right. That can’t be the solution long term. It also doesn’t help me with tonight. Thanks to my procrastinating before the visit I’m out of work for now. After some hours turning over in my bed, I decided to take other measures. Instead, I was going for a walk on the Hogwarts grounds, breath some fresh air and have a look what the stars have to say.

I sat on one of the benches behind the castle and just breathed slowly. I looked at the stars and remembered one quote from the muggle comic Calvin and Hobbes: “If people sat outside and looked at the stars, I’ll bet they’d live a lot differently – How so? – Well, when you look into infinity, you realize there are more important things than what people do all day.” And yes, looking at the stars always sooths me. The stars don’t care about our silly little problems. They might not even be alive anymore. They shine and that’s it and I shouldn’t take everything so goddamn seriously.

I continued looking at the stars for a while and then a voice startled me, interrupting my philosophical emptiness: “You can thank the stars for not being a student. Filch informed me about someone in the gardens and I was prepared to give 2 months of detention.” – I looked to my left and Professor Snape stood there with one eyebrow elevated and a questioning look on his face. “I’m sorry. I.. it’s just..well, you know about my sleeping problems by now. How’s the potion coming along?” – I said. He sat next to me on the bench and replied “Well, it’s done but it needs time to develop. It will be done by tomorrow.. as I already said.”- ahhh no. “Oh Sorry… I didn’t want to imply your not doing your work. Apologies.” I looked down on my feet and we just sat in silence for a while. But with the stars above me and my nerves soothing, I felt brave to overcome this silly nervousness. Hell, I’m a teacher and an actor, I can do small talk. I think. “It’s quiet late though and you’re also here. Was it really just Filch’s alarm going off on you or why are you here?” I turned towards him and saw a smirk on his face. “Well, primarily yes. I wish Filch would turn to other teachers from time to time. But to answer your question, I know sleeping potions not only because I’m the potion master. However, I know how to use them responsibly and do my job well despite of the waking hours.” Ouch, here he goes again mocking me. “But maybe I was just surprised to see you here instead of a mischief-making student and thought to.. investigate.” He turned his gaze away from me and looked out to the woods. So, that means.. he wanted to know what’s up? Is that it? Why couldn’t he just say that he wanted to know how I’m doing or so. I’m confused but intrigued. “Oh” – I uttered articulately. “Thank you, Professor Snape. I’m not doing any mischief, promise! I just really like this place and come here if I need some reflection and peace. The stars sooth me somehow, you know.” He looked up and I did the same. Just two idiots watching the stars together…or so.

I became conscious of how close he was to me. I sat just inches away from him, I could feel his heavy coat next to my hands. This closeness felt nice. “I guess, no one can disagree with that.” – he muttered. “I hope you haven’t had a talk with Sybill though. I don’t think her readings of the stars are anything worth following.” I replied “Well, she’s very friendly and nice. Seems a bit disorganized but no, I don’t need the stars to tell me anything. Their existence alone is what gives me peace. And in the end the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” He sighed and turned towards me saying “The drama teacher citing Shakespeare. How predictable. Nevertheless, I have to agree with this muggle fellow.” Wow… wait a second, he recognised the quote! “I didn’t expect you to notice it. Was hoping I could sell it as my own wisdom” – here I winked and smiled at him – “not many wizards bother to read anything from the muggle world and especially not something related to the arts.” He stood up and let out the quietest laugh, I’ve ever heard. “You didn’t fool me, but it might indeed work on others”. He looked me straight in the eyes and smiled: “But now, I’ve got to get back to my rooms. Good Night. Thank you for this conversation.” And with that he was gone. His gaze at the end sent a shiver down my spine and I don’t know why. It didn’t feel threatening though, but my heart beat faster. He has ignored me for most of my time here so far, but this was… interesting. I couldn’t explain any of this, but I knew one thing: I’d love to do this again.

#severus snape #harry potter #snape x reader #snape x oc #snape x female reader #pro snape #fanfiction

[thekitchensnk]

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 9)

Rating: T Warnings: Violent imagery, trauma, allusions to potential past sexual violence Pairing: Gin/Ran Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9 “They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

They carried out her plan to sell their fruit in town. They had so much that summer that it was close to spoiling on the tree, filling the garden with a sweet, pungent smell.

They filled a bag each to the brim, and set out, once again, for town. It was a sign of how many times they had done this that her legs no longer shook on the walk and she could make the journey both ways now without the need for an impromptu piggyback.

Nevertheless, the bags were heavy, and she complained vociferously the whole way.

"-and it's bad for our backs!" she rambled fiercely, getting into her stride. He shook his head fondly.

"This wasn't my idea," he said reproachfully. "What should we do with the extra money?" he asked in a bid to stop her rant early, before it could really get going.

That caught her out.

"I... Don't actually know." she paused. "We could do anything." A gleam entered her eye. "We could buy a servant."

He sniggered. "We won't have enough for a servant," he said. "And anyways, what do ya' want with a servant? Ya've got me."

"You're not my servant," she laughed.

"I dunno," he said. "I look after the garden, I sweep, and I sew up ya' clothin'." He swept into a low bow, and the fruit in his bag almost spilled over the top in his silliness.

"Hey!" she objected heatedly. "I cook! And I clean! And you stabbed me when you patched up my yukata, so you'd be a useless servant anyway." She pouted.

"I catch us fish," he insisted with a grin.

"Be serious," she giggled.

"I could carry ya' everywhere in one of those fancy boxes," he said, caught up in making mischief, "wash ya' feet and say 'Yes ma'am' and 'No ma'am' and 'three bags full ma'am."

She gave up. "And you'd do up my beautiful kimono every day and cook me dinners- at least thirty eight courses, otherwise I'd have your head chopped off. And you’d bring me sweets from town. And I'd make you sing songs without any dirty bits."

He feigned horror. "Choppin' a man's head off is one thing, Ran-chan, but makin' him take the dirty bits out of songs? Ya' cruel."

She gave him a smug smile and poked him in the arm. "See? You can’t call your mistress cruel. You'd be a useless servant. Too much backchat. You can't keep your mouth shut."

It could not be disputed, but he tried anyway.

"Me?" he said innocently. "I'm the picture of a quiet, obedient servant. Look me up in one of those books, and there I’ll be. Barely even hear a peep from me." It was a bare-faced lie, and even he was impressed that he managed to keep a straight face saying it.

She just snorted at him and bashed his leg with her bag. 

"And ya' a perfect, polite lady," he finished, grinning widely.

"Watch your mouth, you!" she protested, but there was a smile on her face too.

“What would ya’ do if ya’ were rich?” he asked, swinging his bag.

“Hire servants who don’t make all their songs rude and who can sew up a sleeve without stabbing me.”

He gave her a wounded look. “Very funny.”

She pondered a moment.

“I’d spend all my money. I’d buy fancy kimono, and sweets, and sake, and I’d have parties, and a giant mansion, with a garden and one of those wooden things the rich people have- y’know, the ones that go ‘bonk’.” She waved her hands around as she talked, and then paused. “I’d give money to poor children here too.” She sighed. “That would be the life, wouldn’t it? Comfort. Riches. Servants.”

As they walked, their feet picked up the dust of the road. She paused to try and rub some of the dirt from her feet. “What would you do?”

The question threw him.

There was nothing much in life that he really wanted- or at least, not much in the way of material things that money could buy. There were people he would like to see dead, and certain injustices put to rights, and money could potentially buy assassins to do it for him. But it would take the satisfaction of achieving them by his own hand out of the equation. How could he tell her that he revelled in the fear in men’s faces and felt a sick excitement at their pain- that his wants were simple- to have her, their garden, and to watch the theatre of misery and play out his part in it?

“I dunno either. Probably I’d buy ya’ that mansion and that feather bed and those kimono,” he said vaguely, scratching at his head. He’d like that at the very least, he thought, to be able to look after her and buy her what she wanted- to make her happy.

“And the sweets?”

“And the sweets.”

“You could buy a whole forest of persimmon trees,” she suggested.

The thought was a nice one.

“A bigger garden, maybe,” he said.

“Is that all?” She sounded disappointed.

He looked at her in confusion. “Got everythin’ I want right here. What else do I need?”

They both fell silent.

He paused and looked around. The streets were curiously busy, and he found it deeply suspicious. “Is it just me, or does town seem noisier today?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He grabbed her hand suddenly, and started running in the direction of the bar. She had no choice but to follow. It caught her off-balance, and she almost fell.

"Hey! Hey!" she shouted in protest, but he only grinned in response. He ran like the silvery wind, dragging her along in his wake, and he leapt and bounded over all the rubbish in the street, and she staggered after. He was so quick and moved so effortlessly that it was almost unfair. He was not even out of breath when they arrived at their destination, and he grinned as she panted.

The square that the bar fronted was filled with people and the air was thick with chatter and laughter. People looked on curiously and occasionally craned their necks, as if they were waiting for something to happen.

Alcohol flowed freely, and for once, people only seldomly remembered to check their possessions out of fear of pickpockets. A few in the crowd were better dressed than usual. The whores who had makeup had used some, despite its rarity, and they mingled freely in the crowd, giggling and hanging on; the gangsters strutted about with puffed out chests and polished knives.

"What's going on?" Rangiku asked in fascination.

Gin could only shake his head suspiciously. "No idea. World's gone mad. Have ya’ seen this lot?"

She spotted a familiar youthful face at the bar with its greying hair. “One moment,” she told him. It was her turn to drag him around, persimmons still heavy in her bag.

"Hey!" she called out loudly, marching towards the bar in determination. "Hey!"

It was the whore who had accosted her the first time she had walked with him into town.

Kanae's head whipped around, and she froze initially when she saw who it was. Her lip curled into her ever-present expression of irritated disgust, and her eyes rolled in annoyance, but she beckoned them forward anyway.

"So polite," Gin remarked cheerfully, though who it was aimed at- Rangiku, who thought “Hey!” was an acceptable greeting, or the ever scowling Kanae- no one could tell.

Kanae eyed him warily. "Watch it, brat," she spat. She turned to Rangiku and spoke abruptly. "What?"

Gin could not contain himself. "I've always admired ya' way with people."

Kanae glared daggers at him, and turned towards the bar again in an exaggerated, slow fashion, conspicuously ignoring the two children. Rangiku shot him a disgruntled look.

"Wait! He's sorry- he didn't mean it. He's just messing around. 

Gin rarely meant half of what he said, but he never let that stop him. He enjoyed prodding at people, seeing whether he could get a rise out of them. It was a game to him, to play with other people's feelings. He rarely dwelt on the impact of his actions.

"What do you want?" she said icily.

"We wanted to know-" Rangiku said eagerly, "what's happening? What's going on? Why are people here?"

Kanae laughed nastily. "On the last one, I couldn't possibly tell ya'. They’re idiots, milling around. Who knows why they’re here? I, on the other hand, am here because it'll be a good business day. People are boozin' and laughin' and partyin'. For once, I might have enough money to pay my rent and my bar tab."

"Why are they partying? What's happening?"

"Why is ya' hair going grey if ya' don't have wrinkles?" Gin interjected. Rangiku glared at him and gave him a wallop.

“Shush you!” she hissed.

Kanae sneered at him. "It's the stress of havin' ta' live in a world with brats like ya’. Given how sick ya’ all make me, it's a miracle I have any hair left."

Rangiku felt the conversation rapidly sliding out of her grasp, and so she made one last bid to find out what was going on.

"Why are people here?" she asked again loudly and slowly, ignoring the animosity between the other two.

Kanae gave her a sideways look. "Are you always so obnoxious?" Gin's expression darkened, and his hands curled into fists, but Rangiku stepped between them. Kanae sighed in resignation, giving in. "There's a weddin'."

Rangiku gave Gin a look of confusion, and he paused and gave her a half-shrug in reply. "We don’t know what that is,” she informed the whore. “What's a wedding?"

"Obnoxious and ignorant. Wonderful." Kanae slammed her bottle on the counter. She drew in a deep breath. "A weddin', brats, is an empty sham where people put on clothes they can't afford and make promises they can't keep before gods that don't exist, givin' everyone an excuse to get drunk off their faces before fallin' into bed with perfect strangers and- hopefully- whores. Are we done yet? Anythin’ more? Will ya' leave me alone now?"

Rangiku paused, digesting the new information. "What kind of promises?"

Kanae's knuckles went white. "To share joy and sorrow together. To live peacefully together. To make a home together. To provide for each other. To honor the gods. Bullshit,” she sneered.

Beside her, Gin had fallen silent in thought.

"Okay," Rangiku said. "One last question, then I promise we'll leave you alone, Kanae-san. Whose wedding is this?"

"Nakamura and his whore," Kanae said with an ugly smile. Gin's face suddenly perked up in interest, and a slow, gleeful smile crossed his face too, which Rangiku did not miss. She elbowed him and gave him a look.

"Thanks for explaining everything to us, Kanae-san," Rangiku said. "We're very grateful." An idea suddenly occurred to her, and she began to rummage through her bag. "Here- you should have some of these. We have plenty."

Kanae gave her a searching look, and then her hand shot out to grab the persimmons Rangiku had offered. Rangiku looked at her pensively before turning to leave. Kanae paid them no more attention, tearing into the first persimmon, and did not look at them at all as they left.

"Why did ya' do that?" Gin asked curiously. “We could have sold that.”

"Did you see her?" Rangiku said pityingly. "Food is so expensive here. I think that might have been the first time she's had food in years."

He looked at her blankly. "So what?"

She turned to him sharply. "You gave me food. I remember what it was like to go without."

"That was different though," he said. "Ya'd have starved to death without it."

"They still crave it, even if they won't starve. It hurts to be denied what you want over and over again. She’ll get more pleasure out of it than I ever would have. And anyways," she looked at him curiously, "there are plenty of people about who have a small amount of power. They starve. Did you ever give any of them food?"

He hadn't, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she knew that, given how she was looking at him.

(How could he even begin to explain how she differed from everyone else? How his initial curiosity had transformed and evolved into something deeper, something so alien and so strange but so tender? He couldn’t. He couldn’t even explain it to himself.)

"We should set up shop on the corner," he decided, avoiding the question. "Too close to the bar, and people will ignore us in favour of buying booze. Too far and no one will bother."

She gave him a knowing look, but if she had something to say, she wasn't saying it.

The sun was beginning to set, filling the square with a hazy golden light, and paper lanterns were beginning to be lit when he hum of voices in the square suddenly escalated into a dull roar, and all of a sudden, people were whooping and cheering and stamping their feet.

Rangiku looked up in alarm, and he snorted at her reaction. "It's just the weddin'," he told her. "Nakamura-san and Mr Shop Keep's old girl are at the other end of the square. Guess she's just Nakamura-san's girl now, though." He paused. "How do you think he's keepin'? Should we pay him a visit?"

He sounded hopeful.

"Don't be mean," she chided. She arched her neck in a bid to get a look at the newlywed. "I can't see them." She sounded disappointed.

He sighed theatrically. "Guess it can't be helped," he said. He crouched and patted his shoulders. "Up ya' get."

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"I'll squash you!" she objected. "I'm too heavy for that now."

He grinned. "Then I'll be the most brilliant pancake that ever lived. Hop on.”

"You weren't supposed to agree, you!" She pouted at him, but a hidden smile played about her lips.

"Mou, how was I supposed to read ya' mind?" he complained. "Okay, alright- 'You'll never be too heavy for me to carry, Ran-chan!'” he said in a saccharine voice. “There, ya' happy now? Climb on."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

She got on to his back, and sat clumsily on his shoulders. His knees wobbled and they swayed ominously, and she clung to his head in panic, pulling at his hair. He grasped at her legs.

"Hang on, hang on," he gritted his teeth, and soon enough they were steady again.

She looked out, and her eyes were bright.

The district was too poverty stricken for even the bride and groom to wear new clothes, but they had done their best. The bride's hood had been sewn neatly together from whatever white fabric she could find, but from a distance, no one would ever be able to tell; her lips were a dusty red, and her hair had been pinned up. The groom laughed and smiled and bantered with his friends, but every so often he would look back at his wife, and his gaze was soft.

"They're beautiful," she breathed quietly.

He could not see her face, but he knew exactly the sort of expression she'd be wearing, and because he could not see it, he imagined it- lips parted in gentle wonder, eyes bright and sparkling, avid fascination written on her face.

He had no impulse towards empathy, but he could not help but feel the reflection of it. Nakamura and Mr Shop Keep's former girl meant nothing to him. He could quite easily run them through with a knife today, bury the bodies tomorrow, and eat his rice with no qualms the day after that with a clear and untroubled conscience.

But this, this warmth, this reflected wonder which she gave to him so freely, which played in his ribcage and which somehow sparked a warmth of his own, this meant the world. He would do anything to keep it safe.

But his legs were beginning to ache.

"Time to come down, Ran-chan," he said regretfully, and he crouched down to let her off. She slid down his back, and her yukata hitched up inelegantly as she did so, baring her legs. She quickly rearranged her clothes.

They hawked and shouted and bartered and their supply of persimmons began to dwindle quickly. Kanae had been right- weddings were good for business, and food was a rarity in this district. People were keen to celebrate, and when word of cheap, fresh fruit spread, demand quickly outstripped supply, and they had to beat back thieves.

The men, deep in their cups, cat-called and made lewd suggestions and undressed her with their eyes, and he glared and showed his knife. But she was in high spirits regardless, and paid little attention. In truth, the wedding had done a great deal of good for everyone; for once, the mood across town was light and festive, and its inhabitants, usually driven to rob and cheat each other from desperation, embraced each other and laughter rang in the air like bells.

To share joy and sorrow together, he thought absent-mindedly. To live peacefully together. To make a home together. To provide for each other. That was what Kanae had told them.

He did all of that for her already. It wasn’t much- if that was all it was, then they were practically wedded already, he decided.

When she smiled, he smiled; when she woke with nightmares, he got rid of them. They sat together in the evening in front of the fire, and did not even need to share a word, because they knew what the other was thinking. He tended the garden where they grew their food, and she cooked their lunch and their dinner. What was home without her? There was no such thing; in the simplest sense, wherever she was would be home, always and forever.

"Ne, Rangiku?" he asked curiously. "Would you like a weddin’?” 

She laughed at him, as if what he had suggested was absurd. “What a weird question!”

“It isn’t,” he insisted.

“Yes it is!”

“It isn’t.”

“Yes it is!”

They squabbled back and forth for a few moments childishly.

“I don’t know!” she said in exasperation, throwing her hands up in the air. “Maybe! One day! I’d need to find someone who would want to marry me though.” She crossed her arms and leant against the wall in a huff.

His eyes narrowed. He had not considered even for an instant that someone else might marry her, and now that the thought had occurred to him, he did not like it one bit. He seethed quietly for a moment, and kicked a stone down the road.

“I don’t think it’s any different from how things are already,” he announced arrogantly.

She did a strange thing then, and gave him a scathing look. “What?” she growled.

He gave her an odd sideways glance. “It’s just what we do already, but they’ve put on fancy clothes and thrown a party.”

“It is different,” she insisted loudly.

“How?”

“It just is!”

There was a strange tension brewing in the air between them.

“How?”

“It just is!”

“How?” he pressed insistently, unaware that he was poking at a tender spot.

“Because he’s never going to leave!” she shouted, rounding on him. Her voice had cracked half way through the sentence, to her shame, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

It was like he had been punched in the stomach.

If he loved basking in the reflected glow of her happiness, then this was its terrible shadow, the painful ache that he felt in his chest whenever tears came to her eyes, and the dreadful, clumsy knowledge that he would do anything to make it stop. It was the price he paid for happiness. No matter how he had looked at it and analysed it, he could not extricate the one from the other. If he was to feel her happiness, then he would also feel her pain and he would have to let himself suffer it.

It made him writhe inside with a horrible discomfort and a muted horror. She and her feelings and the feelings she provoked- they were a weakness and he could not afford weaknesses, not here, not in this cruel and brutal place, and maybe nowhere else besides. He had spent long enough here to have that lesson carved into his bones. Her existence made him so-

(vulnerable.)

No signs of softness, no signs of weakness; never let them know where your heart lies, he had been told as a child.

He had never thought it a problem, because he had always been sure that he didn’t have a heart.

Her eyes were furious.

The pain was tinged with the shame of knowing that he was the cause of those tears, that he had been their instigator.

(And he would be again. And again, and again.)

He had to leave. No matter how much it would hurt her.

(No matter how much it would hurt him).

“Yeah,” he said blankly. “Guess ya’ right, Rangiku. Sorry.”

She fell silent.

They did not speak the entire way home.

The sun set, and the golden haze of the day retreated leaving behind a black and starless sky. They had no moon by which to light the way, and he walked on ahead, leaving her to stumble after him.

In the darkness, she could barely make out his shoulders.

He was gone when she woke up.

#bleach #gin ichimaru #rangiku matsumoto #ginran #ichimaru gin #spider lilies #gin you dumbass #there comes a point when you're writing GinRan #where you forget how it all ends #and you can convince yourself that it's all going to turn out okay #if he just scrapes his act together

[icequeenjules26]

All I Want (For Christmas) Is You

Summary:  Dan Howell's life as a student of modern piano music is completely turned upside down when he is grouped in an assignment with Phil Lester...

Word Count: 7,2k

Tags: University AU, Fluff, Pianist!Dan, Guitarist!Phil, 

A/n: This is written for @babethepig for the Phandom fic Fests Holiday Exchange. As always the biggest ever thank you goes out to my love @succubusphan, who spent a lot of time beta’ing this. You’re the best. <3 

Read on A03

Dans schedule was a proper mess this semester. His decision to specialize in modern piano music got frowned upon not only by his parents but also by his Uni, so his curses were not nicely fit together anymore. He had a lot of free time in between, but his time gaps were too short to get back to his dorm, so he mostly stayed on campus, spending his free time in one of the multiple coffee shops around or with his friend Louise, who was assigned a dorm room much closer to campus than he was.

 That’s how he caught wind of it first.

 He had always been good at playing the piano, the time at uni had only helped with that, obviously; but that he was supposedly the best in his studies had always sounded like an exaggeration. There were a lot of piano students, so he had tried toning down the people talking about him, directing them to someone else. Aside from his musical ability there wasn’t much interesting about him, though, so he had drifted out of the other students’ eyes - at least aside from the talk about whoever was supposed to be dating this week. His open bisexuality made for a large pool of possible suitors, but there were students much more interesting to talk about.

 Now, though, he was back inside of the rumor mill, and right in the center.

 It started off innocently enough.

 “The instruments students are doing trios this year, did you hear?” The two girls in the booth right next to his were chatting animatedly with each other, obviously unaware of him just sitting half a meter away. “Yeah, I’m so excited! We haven’t seen Dan Howell performing for a while, which is a shame. Him at a Piano is enough to get me going to be honest.”

 Dan was already puffing out his chest like a peacock, debating on whether to go over there or at least make his presence known otherwise, when the other girl’s reply made him halt in his tracks. “I mean same , but have you seen Phil Lester lately? He got rid of his emo fringe and stuff. He’s scolding hot .” She layed extra emphasis on the word hot and in Dan’s head, two mindsets started battling over what to do. The first one expressed some kind of jealousy in a “I wanted to tap that girl”-kind of way, the other one wanted to spring onto facebook to check out the guy they were talking about, whose name sounded kind of familiar.

 Former emo fringe musician that got hot? Sign him the fuck up.

 Chuckling lowly about his screaming bisexuality he continued listening, his interest now peaked.

 “Well, they’re doing trios right? Just imagine both of them on stage together…”

 The other girl actually moaned at the thought and Dan couldn’t contain the smirk creeping on his face. He took a sip from his coffee, his still open laptop on the table in front of him long forgotten. He probably should be working on one of his assignments due this week, but the girls’ conversation was too interesting to ignore.

 Dan had to suppress some swearing when his laptop dinged with an incoming email. He could hear the girls whispering behind him when they looked over because of the sound, realizing who he was - “Oh my god is that Dan Howell?” and “Oh my god, do you think he heard us?” -  and he quickly leaned forward to appear busy.

 The email causing the ‘ding’ was actually about the assignment the girls had just been talking about. He packed up his stuff immediately when he had read through it. The list of assigned groups had just been hung out in front of his professor’s office and she invited all participants to a meeting in about half an hour on the other side of the campus, so he had to rush.

 ~~~

 Even the rushing didn’t help in the end, the unfortunate incident of a broken down bus costed him the time to check the list before the meeting started. When he got there he still had no idea who his partners were, so he didn’t understand the reason behind the quiet whispers that started when he set foot into the lecture hall. He managed to find his friend Louise quite fast and slid into the free spot next to her. “What’s the fuss about?” he asked her quietly but before she could answer, the door opened again and a group of professors walked in.

 Their looks varied about as much as those of the students sitting in the audience, making for a quite colourful group. For this assignment, nearly all rock-centered curses were thrown together, not only piano but also guitar, drums, bass, violin and multiple other instruments. The hall was packed full, but the arrival of the professors assured silence among the students.

 “Good morning everyone! Hopefully you all checked the list and are in the process of contacting your partners. Teamwork is the key for this assignment! Because of the number of students most groups consist of one piano student, one guitar student and one of another instrument, specifically arranged to play into your strengths and make you work on your weaknesses.” The young male professor’s voice rung soundly through the hall and Dan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Prof. Smith, responsible for the guitar department and  specialized on rock music, was so completely different from his own professor and so cliché rock musician that it offended Dan’s believes; he fit the stereotype perfectly, including tattoo covered arms, piercings and wild, green hair, often sporting band shirts.

 Prof. Johnson, on the other hand, was nothing like her profession. She was a middle-aged woman with slim, neon green glasses and grey eyes that always seemed to shine with mischief. Her jet black hair fell in untamable curls onto her shoulders and she seemed to never leave the house without a nerdy T-Shirt, merch for some comic, TV-Show or movie. When she stepped forward, the whispers around the hall got louder and the grin on her face was so wide Dan couldn’t help but grin back. He liked his Professor, even if she tended to overstep her boundaries and was eager to make friends among the students.

 “If you have questions you can always turn to me or Mr. Smith, Mr. Miller or Mrs. Adams, or any of the other Professors involved,” she said, then paused for a second to let the murmures and voices ring out.

 “Now, we know this is a big thing among the student body, but we hope you can keep it as low as possible. Drama and relations, as fun as they are to watch for us, will only make your work harder. If you want to outplay this though, be assured I will be watching with a glass of wine and popcorn.” There were chuckles among the group and Louise next to him went red trying to keep in her laughter. Dan grinned at her and made a mental note to tell her about the girls he had encountered before coming here.

It took some time for the students to calm down, but when she continued speaking, Dan was shocked into silence. “That also goes for other students aside from yourself. The list is out for half an hour and the only duo involving Mr. Howell and Mr. Lester has already caused an uproar throughout the whole university, so please think about what you are causing when you speak about information like this next time.”

 The rest of the meeting went by in a blur. The professors informed them of the nature of the assignment - the whole thing had pretty much the built-up of a generic talent show. They had to cover one song each week in an open, on-campus concert starting in two weeks. Each week two groups would be voted out by the professors until three groups remained for the finale.

 At the end Dan didn’t remember anything the professors had explained to them. He would beg Louise for her notes tomorrow, but that wasn’t the important thing right now.

 The important thing was that he was supposed to perform with the one and only Phil Lester - and after a quick facebook check he realized why the name had sounded so familiar. Dan had had a crush on the cute and amazingly talented guitar player performing every saturday in a close-by coffee shop for weeks until he had disappeared. What made it even harder for Dan was the fact that the girls had been right.

 The guy had gotten hot as fuck.

 Louise’ mumbled keep it in your pants seemed almost impossible to stick to.

 ~~~~

 It took Dan around half a week to stop running from Phil. He kept himself busy with papers not due for at least a few more weeks and working harder for other assignments than he ever had before - he did anything that would make him forget about the short message from Phil awaiting him on whatsapp, where he introduced himself and informed him they were partners. The little dog emoji at the end of the message made him squeal like a schoolgirl, but that was exactly the problem. He had to keep it professional. Which would be difficult considering the increasingly hot pictures Phil posted on his facebook and instagram…

 On thursday Dan finally realized he wouldn’t be able to hide from this forever, as he couldn’t afford to fail this class. So he decided to suck it up and went with a generic confirmation and the question to set a time for their first rehearsal as a reply.

 On friday Dan was about as nervous as he could be. Fidgeting the entire morning, he changed his outfit for at least five times until Louise threatened to rip his whole wardrobe to shreds if he didn't decide soon. Her teasing didn’t make his job any easier though. He was supposed to meet Phil in less than half an hour in one of the practice rooms in the music building half a campus away and he was dying a little.

 “Do you really think I look okay?” he asked Louise, who was seated directly next to him on the bus, anxiously running his fingers through his brown locks. Louise caught his wrist mid-movement and forced his hand back into his lap before she patted it sympathetically. “You look great, Dan. Just don’t behave like the little schoolgirl you’re portraying right now, okay?”

 Dan couldn’t get rid of the blush creeping onto his cheeks for the rest of the bus ride.

 When he arrived at their booked practice room, Phil wasn’t there yet. Sighing in relief, he let his backpack sink to the floor before moving over to the piano, situated on a little pedestal in front of the window. He took a seat on the stool right in front of it and let his fingers run over the keys testingly. A series of notes rang through the air and he realized delightedly that the piano was pitched precisely.

 He let his fingers push the keys purposefully and before he knew it they strung together to one of his favorite songs. He started singing along, just for the fun of it; but he got completely lost in the music. At one point a second voice joined in, harmonizing with him to an unbelievable extend, but he didn’t even realize; it just sounded like it had been there from the start.

 Like it belonged there, ringing alongside his own.

 Only at the end of the song he realized what had happened. When the last note rang loud through the now deafening silence he whipped around, eyes wide - and met the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

 He wanted to avert his eyes, wanted to check who it was, but he couldn’t; for a few moments, he was frozen, lost in time, no connection to reality except for the blue he was drowning in.

 The moment shattered like glass around him when some kind of crashing noise pierced in from outside of the room and Dan was finally able to move his eyes.

 “That was beautiful,” a deep, melodic voice said and he couldn’t help but stare at the black haired figure standing proudly and tall at the other end of the piano, smiling at him reassuringly.

 Dan had to blink a few times and pinch himself covertly, but the picture in front of him stayed the same: Phil Lester, in all his delicious glory, eyes shining so bright Dan was sure he’d need sunglasses.

 “It was,” he agreed with a raspy voice, watching wordlessly as Phil made his way over to him. “I’m Phil,” he said, sticking out his hand in front of him and Dan had to gulp down his fast rising excitement. I’ll get to touch Phil Lester!!

 When it happened, when their hands touched, he almost flinched back. A warm feeling shot up his arm at top speed and for a second, he forgot how to breathe. Holy shit.

 “Dan,” he rasped back, staring up at Phil with wide eyes, not really sure what to do with himself, only one thought ringing through his mind - if touching Phil felt like that , how amazing would kissing him be?

 Obviously, the black haired guitar player was not as shocked as Dan. “So, do you think we found our song for the first show?”

 Just like that they slipped over into work - and working with Phil, Dan learned, was just as easy as breathing.

 ~~~

 The first week with Phil was like walking on clouds. The numerous holes in Dan’s schedule made for good practice times, and the fact that Phil didn’t have many classes this semester meant that he was there for almost every one of them. Work flowed easily and smoothly and on monday they were already done segmenting the song and deciding who would get to sing which parts.

 But not only the work went great, even their voices harmonized like they were meant to be heard together. They didn’t even need transitions between Dan’s singing parts to Phil’s, the changes from line to line went just as smoothly as the ones with longer instrumental intervals between.

 Tuesday evening they were basically ready to perform. Dan had his piano playing recorded as a playback to make him more flexible on stage instead of immobile behind a giant instrument. Phil’s guitar skills maybe didn’t quite match Jimmy Hendrik’s yet, but they were definitely up there, and he had the song down to a T. Neither of them had classes the next morning, so as they were leaving the practice room, Dan felt quite courageous from all the adrenaline still rushing through him after a perfect run - and he boldly asked Phil if he wanted to get a coffee somewhere before retiring to their respective dorms.

 Ten minutes later they were sat in a coffee shop right off campus. Dan chose a cozy little booth in the corner directly next to the window front while Phil went to get their coffees. When Dan took the first sip of his drink he almost spat it right back out, but instead moved to first eye the drink and then Phil suspiciously.

 “How do you know?” he asked, his voice almost high pitched as he narrowed his eyes.

Phil just raised an eyebrow into an almost perfectly shaped curve, looking at Dan questionably as he calmly took a sip of his coffee, not saying a word.

 “How do you know my order?” Dan specified and watched incredulously as Phil’s full, kissable lips spread into a wide grin. He could almost picture it, attaching his own lips onto his as they spread into the exact grin before the kisses started to get more serious, more heated, Phil’s fringe messed up, his cheeks red as clothes were coming off…

 Oh my god, stop betraying me, goddamn heart.

 “I didn’t. I just ordered two of my usual order.”

 Phil’s voice ripped him out of his daydream and for a second he couldn’t do much else than stare in stunned silence. “You drink caramel Macchiato, too?” he asked, blinking. Huh. He really hadn’t expected that from a guy as hot as him…

 Jesus fucking christ, actually shut the fuck up!

 Dan’s attraction to Phil had risen to an unhealthy level by now. Not only was he hot as fuck, no; during their practice time Dan also had had to learn that the guy was smart, funny, lively, and talented as fuck , even more than Dan remembered him to be. Dan was lucky the assignment, and working on the music kept him busy and focused, or else he would have probably jumped the guy by now.

 “It’s my all time favorite,” Phil confirmed, his grin transforming into a cheeky smile, and Dan couldn’t keep a blush from dusting his cheeks pink.

 “Mine too,” he admitted and took another tentative sip from his drink, purposefully avoiding Phil’s eyes. He knew that if he looked into them now, he would drown in them.

 For a few moments it was silent between them, both nursing their coffee, Dan deeply lost in thought about the blueness of Phil’s eyes.

 “So, Muse, huh?”

 It was Phil breaking the silence and Dan looked up, surprised. It took him a second to realize how Phil had even known he liked Muse , until he realized they had met while singing their song Thought Contagion before choosing it for their first performance. This time he was pretty sure he kept the blush at bay.

 “Yeah. I love them.”

 Phil’s mouth stretched into a happy smile, his eyes shining brightly, full of honest excitement as he started chattering about them. Dan had to gulp and pinch his hand unsuspiciously to keep himself from losing his mind .

 They moved from Muse to Panic! to Fallout Boy to Paramore and even further. Albums became scores, which lead the way to games, movies and TV shows. It was almost scary how much they had in common, how much their interests overlapped, and it actually took Dan a while to remember a question he’d had since he’d heard of the assigned groups.

 He used a temporary lull in conversation - one that he could have easily filled with something relatable to the topic they were on, mind you - to finally ask.

 “By the way, do you know why we are the only duo?”

 Phil raised his eyebrow, a cheeky smile back on his face and Dan knew there was a blush creeping up his cheeks yet again. He couldn’t help but feel like he missed something vital here, but he had no idea what exactly.

 “Did you not pay attention at the meeting?”

 Dan felt his eyes widen in surprise and blinked, cheeks even hotter than before. “I might have been… preoccupied ,” he admitted and Phil’s smile grew into a full-blown grin.

 “Prof. Johnson and Prof. Smith spent like ten minutes explaining,” he informed Dan, “Apparently the numbers didn’t match up and they had to have one duo, so they both chose their best student and realized we would be a good match.” He put special emphasis on the word match and for a second, Dan wasn’t sure if he would be able to stay conscious. Was he just making a joke… Or was Phil Lester really flirting with him?

 “We - we are,” he stammered in response and Phil’s chuckling send his heart into overdrive. Oh god. How was he supposed to survive at least 2 more months working with the guy?

 “I think so too,” Phil whispered back with a husky voice, making Dan choke on his long cold coffee.

 Fuck, these next weeks are going to be torture.

 ~~~

 The next monday morning Dan found himself in yet another on-campus coffee shop, putting the finishing touches on an assignment that was due today. Normally it was a break he would spend with Phil, but he had stuff to arrange with one of his professors, so they decided he would join up with Dan as soon as he was able to. They had managed to get a headstart on this week’s performance by starting working on it on saturday, so they weren’t in much of a rush. They had decided on a song and discussed divisioning on sunday already; it was only practicing left.

 Of course the performance on Friday had gone great. They had gotten a lot of applause by the watching students, the little hall on campus used for performances had been packed to the rim, so there had been at least a few hundred watchers. The professors had obviously also been satisfied with their presentation, considering they had informed them they would progress into the next round even before the whole show had been over.

 So Dan and Phil had spent their Friday night celebrating. Even though neither of them were really the party going type, they had agreed to go out for a few drinks with their best friends Louise and PJ - who, coincidentally, were in the same group - and Tyler, a music production student Dan had been friends with for years. He had flirted with Phil quite obviously and had teased Dan for his sour mood afterwards, but had assured him that Phil only has eyes for you, you dumbass, pay attention!, coupled with a playful whack on his head.

 The memory let Dan grumble absently, but the arriving of a group of students in the booth right behind him ripped him away from his trip down memory lane. “I mean, they’re both bisexual, right?” one of the girls stated while taking a seat, making him peek up immediately. He liked to hear stories about his fellow unicorns and regretted only becoming aware of this conversation after it had already started.

 “They are,” a guy’s voice confirmed. Dan was pretty sure he had heard the voice before, but he didn’t have the courage to turn around and check. He was lucky enough to not have been spotted by the group, he really didn’t have to push his luck.

 “Have you seen their sexual tension? I know you want to fuck them both, Caleb, but come on.” The female voice was followed by a male groan and the sound of a head meeting the tabletop. “I knowww,” was the answer, “I’m sexually deprived, not blind .”

 Dan raked his brain, trying to figure out who they were talking about. Being friends with Louise and Tyler meant that he was mostly up to date with recent campus gossip, and he really wanted to tell them about this later.

 “Did you know there’s already a bet going on? About if they’ll be dating by the end of this semester.”

 “Which idiot would even bet against that?”

 The booth erupted into laughter and Dan furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. He leaned forward, trying to appear busy, but in reality the assignment currently open on his laptop was the furthest thing from his mind.

 “Okay, but aside from all that they were the best group, even if it was just the two of them. They’re gonna win this thing, hands down.” 

Dan’s eyes went as wide as saucers as realization seeped into him. They weren’t really talking about -

 “Absolutely. Thought Contagion was brilliant, I’m so excited to see what they’ll come up with for the next round.”

 That was the moment Phil decided to make his appearance, ripping him out of his thoughts almost violently. “Morning!” he said, cheerfully, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. He pushed one of them over to Dan after he had taken a seat.

 A look of confusion, even concern appeared on his face when Dan didn’t react, just continued staring at his laptop screen with his eyes wide open. “Dan? Are you okay? Have you seen a ghost?”

 The chatter behind him ended immediately. When he slowly turned around a group of seven people was staring at him, wide eyed. All of them scrambled to their feets as fast as they could. “You’re a cute couple!” one of the girls squeaked out, then they were gone, leaving Dan to explain the situation to Phil.

 Needless to say Phil wasn’t fazed at all, instead he used the story to make more flirty remarks, making Dan blush yet again.

 Damn, I’m fucked.

 ~~~~

Almost three months passed by in a rush and by december Dan couldn’t even recognize his life anymore. All the time he had previously spent alone in front of his laptop, browsing tumblr or watching Netflix, converted into Phil-time, slowly but surely. They played games or watched TV-Shows nearly every day after practice. Dan’s roommate had even asked him if he was moving out with all the time he spent away, but Dan couldn’t help himself. Phil lived in a flat near campus all alone. A tiny flat, sure, but it made for the best meetup place, especially for gaming or movie nights or for research about their next song - and it gave them some privacy. Not that much had happened yet aside from the increasingly flirty comments and occasional cuddle sessions, but it still made their friendship easier.

 Especially because they were now something like campus-famous and got recognized wherever they went.

 So far, they had aced most performances and were through to the last show before christmas break. After New Year’s there was only one show left before the big finale. They were pretty sure they had a good grade secured, but they still gave it their all - they had come so far, there was no way they were giving up now.

 In the upcoming show only seven groups were left and it was the first one with two mandatory songs, one optional and one christmas themed, dropping the rock theme just for this once. Since the last week was cut short - Christmas break started on thursday - they had an additional half week to prepare. Dan and Phil had decided on Panic! ’s High Hopes for the first song and Last Christmas for the second and as always, they had been quite fast with their work. They were practiced and basically done on Monday, so they allowed themselves the night off. Phil’s brother was in town and Dan had heartlessly neglected Tyler since the assignment started (his words), basically forcing Dan to spent the night with him.

 Fortunately Tyler had a lecture early the next morning, so he wasn’t trying to get himself or Dan trashed. He did, however, made use of the time by grilling Dan about his relationship to Phil.

 Dan was a bit annoyed, but at the end of the day he was glad to be able to talk about it, even if he would never admit to that. Louise and her group were still in the run for the finals too, which made her so busy they barely were able to talk for longer than a few minutes at a time - and he desperately needed an outsider’s opinion.

 It took him almost an hour to get Tyler up to date on what had happened, all the while getting interrupted by texts from Phil. Right when he was done explaining his phone dinged again, indicating another text.

 ‘the girl two tables over has a cute lil pup on her lap i keep staring she probs thinks i'm a perv help’ it read and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Tyler inspected him warily from across the table, absently playing with the straw in his half-empty cocktail. “Okay, who are you texting?” he asked then, fixing Dan with a steely gaze.

 “Oh, it’s just Phil,” he answered distractedly, typing a quick response before turning his attention back to Tyler. “Why?”

 “Are you shitting me?” he asked back, a fitting expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Dan just answered with a surprised “huh?”, shooting him a confused look.

 “Mate, how dense can you be? You are basically dating the guy, only without the good parts!”

 Dan blinked, completely lost now, unable to follow Tyler’s train of thought. “What?”

 “You and Phil are dating, Dan, wake up! The only thing missing is the sex!”  Dan was stunned into silence, staring at Tyler like he had grown a second head. It took the thought a while to register in his brain, but then he blushed, taking a huge gulp of his drink before calling the waiter over to order another one.

 He needed more alcohol for this.

 ~~~~

 The show on wednesday evening went exceptionally well. They had the most fun rocking to High Hopes and got really festive during Last Christmas , with Dan at the Piano and Phil sat on top of it. Their professors called them over and into the next show immediately, making them giddy and high on adrenaline in the process.

 The christmas party thrown by the rock music department started directly afterwards and PJ and Louise, immensely proud of their best friends even though their own group had been voted out, insisted on going. Still in an after show rush they agreed, but soon realized why they normally didn’t like parties. It was loud, the room stuffed with people and the food was average at best, and it took them around twenty minutes to revert back to the snacks table, where they hid from the actual party.

 When Louise, PJ and Tyler of all people found them, sporting a cheeky expression, Dan knew they were fucked. They were leaning against a wall, talking and laughing with each other as much as the music allowed them to, and only a few people were inspecting them from afar.

 “Do you know where you’re standing?” PJ asked when the group was within earshot and Dan raised an eyebrow. “Next to the snacks table where we always are?” he remarked drily, making Phil chuckle next to him.

 “Look up!” Tyler singsonged with a high pitched voice and flattered his eyelashes with faked innocence.

 Dan perked up immediately. He knew that voice.

 He didn’t even need to look up to know what was fixated on the wall over their heads.

 “A Mistletoe!” Louise grinned so widely Dan was sure it had to hurt. He turned his attention to Phil, his heart throbbing in his chest on full speed.

 There was a cheeky smile on the guitarist’s face as he took a step closer, taking a hold of Dan’s head with both hands. “They want a kiss,” he murmured, lowly, “let’s give them a kiss.”

 The second his lips met Phil’s was like a firework going off everywhere inside of his body. For a moment he forgot where he was, hell, even who he was, just continued kissing Phil with passion and lust and love. He didn’t even hesitate opening up his mouth at Phil’s silent request to let him in, too far gone to care - hell, to even realize they had an audience.

 The kiss lasted for minutes and it probably could have gone on much longer if there wouldn’t have been a sudden outburst of applause. The blood took a second to reach Dan’s brain after having rushed somewhere south only seconds ago, but when it did, it immediately spread into his cheeks. They broke apart, Dan’s face still in Phil’s hands, silently contemplating the recent event.

 He had just kissed Phil Lester. In front of basically the whole rock music department.

 Great. Just great.

 The applause and whooping didn’t stop soon and he couldn’t do much more then to exchange a long look with Phil. They had a silent discussion Dan himself didn’t know the content of, until suddenly and with no indication there was panic on Phil’s face as he hastily let go of Dan and scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket. It was vibrating violently in his hands and Dan couldn’t even blink by the time Phil rasped out a “Shit! My brother is waiting for me!” and left in a rush.

 Dan stood there, staring after Phil until most of the students had averted their gazes from him and went back to whatever they had been doing before. When the ice in his veins freezing him into place finally dissipated, he groaned. He knew Phil’s brother Martyn was picking him up for Christmas with their family, and he wouldn’t be back until january.

 Of course. That’s just my fucking luck.

 ~~~

 He spent christmas break in some sort of limbo, like his relationship to Phil was Schrödinger’s cat, platonic and romantic at the same time. He knew the kiss had meant something not only to him but also to Phil, that much had been obvious with the way he had taken the offensive in deepening the kiss and how he had held him afterwards. But that was about the amount of information Dan had, and neither of them mentioned the kiss on any level, so he decided to just ignore the issue for now.

 It did made him jumpy and fidgety and mostly unable to focus, though, and only his frequent skype calls with Phil got him focused and concentrated enough to get some much needed work done.

 There were only two shows left, but they were only one week apart and both required three songs, so they decided to learn all songs over the break. They spent hours on skype, deciding on the songs and how to play and sing them, so they would be done learning their personal parts until they could meet back up in person.

 For a short moment, their reunion was like the sun had risen again. They hugged, soft words of attachment and longing on their lips, but then it was like someone had flipped a switch and they were back in working mode. Phil didn’t mention the kiss and Dan didn’t dare to, so they went back to Status Quo, just like that.

 The first show in the new year went okay-ish. Neither of them poured everything into it, already looking forward to the songs they had chosen for the finale, but they still managed to pull through. Their only truly memorable performance was The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance , which they definitely aced, but the other ones admittedly fell a bit flat. Both their professors urged them to not take it too lightly just because they had done so amazingly until now, so they swore to give everything they had in their last performances together.

 They were the first group performing in the finale. It wasn’t hard for Dan to get in the mood of their songs, considering they were all pining lovesongs and he would have the one he was pining after up on stage with him, so he was glad they got to go first. It made the waiting and anticipation in between easier, and waiting for the results when they were done didn’t mean much to him anyway - he didn’t care too much about winning.

 He just wanted to give his best, pour all his feelings into the songs when he was up there with Phil. He wanted to make it obvious that he meant every word he was singing.

 He wanted to get Phil to understand…

 In short, he just wanted Phil.

 Their first song was a soft piano interpretation of It’s not living (If it’s not with you) by The 1975 , and Dan was so entranced by Phil he forgot to look at his hands while playing. He didn’t make a single mistake, thankfully,  but if he would have made one he probably wouldn’t even have noticed. He benefited from the fact that he had practiced the piano part so often on the tiny piano in his childhood bedroom that his parents had asked him to please, please stop.

 They spent their break with a bottle of coke huddled together on a tiny sofa backstage, making loose conversation and trying to get their mind off of things. Dan basked in the close physical proximity and simply smiled when Phil just casually took his hand while he talked, playing with his fingers. He had a feeling that things would be going well.

 Dan had particularly fun during their next song. The Last Of The Real Ones by Fallout Boy was one of his favorite songs and he connected a lot of the lyrics to Phil. The piano playing was not an issue this time since they had both laid down their playing previously and conjoined it in a track, so he had all the time in the world to focus on Phil, which he took full advantage of. They riled up the crowd so much that Tyler, who had agreed to be the presenter of the night, had trouble getting them back in check for the next group.

 During christmas break, far away from Phil and his feelings, their next song had seemed like a good idea. It was romantic, emotional and full of love and Dan couldn’t think of any other song that would make his feelings for Phil more clear than this.

 Now, though, it seemed entirely too personal to perform in front of what felt like the whole Uni. During practice he had refrained from building too much of a connection, afraid of taking it too far, but now he didn’t have much of a choice and it made him more nervous than any other performance before. His hands were sweaty, his stomach was rumbling and he was ready to cancel the whole thing when Phil noticed the state he was in.

 “Dan,” he whispered, pointedly ignoring the other people lounging around backstage, completely focusing on Dan, “It’ll be okay. You will be okay. And I will be with you, right there by your side the whole time, okay?”

 It was in this moment that something settled in Dan’s chest. He returned Phil’s fond look with courage and determination, grasping his hand in his and squeezing it tightly. “Me too. We’re on the same page.”

 He was sure Phil caught the double meaning when his look got soft. “I think I always knew,” he answered quietly, almost inaudible. “Let’s do this.”

 ~~~

 Their last performance of this assignment was a complete success. They performed The Only Exception by Paramore sitting huddled together on the little Piano stool in front of the huge piano and didn’t take their eyes off of each other the entire time. It was so emotional Tyler had tears in his eyes when he came on stage, hugging first Phil, then Dan tightly, muttering a soft “go get ‘em, tiger” into Dan’s ear and Dan could feel his heart swelling.

 This was it.

 Backstage, thankfully, they were alone. Both of the other groups were nowhere to be seen, and Phil obviously noticed faster than him.

 Before he even had the chance to turn around from closing the door he was already spun around and pressed against the next hard surface, Phil’s lips attacking his own.

 For what felt like ages they were kissing furiously, like they had deprived themselves of this for far too long and now a dam had been broken down, nothing holding them back anymore.

 Once they were out of breath Phil separated their lips, lovingly gazing into his eyes instead. “I have waited for this for far too long,” he whispered quietly, softly, his hands on the sides of Dan’s head, his thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

 “Me too,” he mumbled back, drowning in Phil’s eyes and feeling himself falling, falling; falling even deeper in love with him. “I meant every word I sang.”

 There was a beat of quiet, then:

 “I love you.”

 The words were muttered completely simultaneously, and for the single bat of an eye both stared at the other, stunned into silence.

 Then they were both dissolving into giggles, holding onto the other to keep from toppling over.

 “That,” Phil gasped out, “was so us.”

 Dan couldn’t help but agree.

 ~~~

 “Do you really think so, Badiha?”

 “I don’t know, Henry, but they did seem smitten during that song, don’t you think?”

 “True!”

 There was a group of at least five people seated in the booth directly behind Dan’s and even though he wasn’t that much of a gossip he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. He was busily procrastinating the work he needed to do until the next day, refreshing tumblr around ten times a minute, so it wasn’t too surprising the conversation distracted him as soon as it got loud enough for him to hear.

 “But they haven’t been seen in public with each other in ages aside from their performances. I just really want them to be happy with each other, is that too much to ask?”

 That was the first voice again. Dan allowed himself a short look at the group out of the corner of his eyes and recognized all faces he was able to pick up on. They had all been to the performance Phil and him did twice a week in a near bar ever since their joint assignment last year, he was sure of it. He mostly recognized them because of the person that had spoken first, a girl with the pride flag drawn on her eyelids. He remembered how she had attracted his attention during their first show because of her truly iconic makeup.

 “I know, right?!” a male voice joined in and this time Dan didn’t need the information practically jumping into his face to realize they were talking about him and Phil.

 After their win in the finale they had decided to keep their relationship at a down low, trying to make themselves comfortable with being boyfriends before they truly made it public. They were still pretty famous throughout the students and the center of the rumor mill, but they had been in a relationship for almost a year now and had only recently realized there was nothing to be afraid of if everybody knew. Most of them would be happy for them, and the rest of them, well -

 They’d just have to suck it up.

 That was the moment his boyfriend decided to show up. He slid into the booth, taking a seat directly next to Dan, pressing their thighs together. “Morning, love,” he greeted Dan gently, planting a kiss on his cheek before grinning happily. “Busy procrastinating?”

 “Yeah,” Dan replied extra loud, grinning right back, “but I’d rather kiss my boyfriend.”

 So they shared a short, cute kiss, making the group behind them gasp loudly. “It’s them,” the girl with the pride flag on her eyelids whispered into the silence stretching between them. Dan grinned.

 “It is,” he confirmed cheekily, turning around to look at her. “Very iconic Make-up by the way, I like it.”

 “Oh my god, thank you,” she answered, a blush becoming apparent on her cheeks and Dan’s grin only got wider before he turned his attention back around to Phil.

 “What was that about?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and his head cutely tilted to the side.

 Dan pecked him on the lips. “Had to make a point.”

 Phil looked back cheekily, a grin on his face so wide Dan was able to see his tongue poking out between his teeth. “A point about what?”

 Dan puffed out his cheeks, feigning huffiness. Phil knew exactly what this was about, and they were both aware of that. “You’re an idiot,” he said, pouting.

 “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

 Dan looked at him, eyes full of fondness and adoration and love. “Exactly.”

#phan #phanfiction #phan fluff #phanfic au #my writing

[queenofallhobos]

Daisypool Chapter 16: The Cameo

Daisypool Masterlist

Ao3 link

“I miss my baby so much it hurts. Like physically hurts me. I couldn’t bear to tell Wade about it because then it would have been real and I was afraid it would hurt even more after I said it out loud… I was right, now that Loki knows the truth it feels like a dagger in my heart being twisted constantly. Loki is a WHOLE other issue too.” “I know my feelings shouldn’t be this intense, because I haven’t truly known him until recently… but he’s just so cute and his eyes! Plus, the way he touched me the other day after I had a nightmare was so… much. And then I woke up alone the next morning…” I heaved a sigh and slid along the wall to the floor. “Of course, he knows all about my ex and some of the shit he put me through. I don’t think he knows just how bad it got though before he got sick of me. You’d think someone as old as him would know not to take advantage of someone in an emotionally fragile moment.” I stopped and looked at the man by my feet. “Are you even listening? Ugh, just like a man not listening to a woman.” His only response was a final gurgling noise as he drowned in his own blood. About time too, he’d hung in there much longer than his buddy. “Alone again… naturally.” I sighed. “Ugh, this is why I was just going to keep my pussy in my pocket, but then the freakin’ god of mischief just had to waltz along with his dreamy blue eyes and chiseled physique… just need to get through this mess and get back home to Wade and Ness. Then Loki will ride off into the sunset and forget all about the weird human he fucked on that weird trash planet.” “Worst part is, I can’t do anything to get out of this.” I mumbled, kicking the body closest to my foot in the head. “You wouldn’t really want to get out of all this though, would you?” A familiar voice asked, effectively pulling me from my morose thoughts. “Stan Lee! I was hoping I’d get to see you.” I said jumping to my feet and wiping the blood from my hands so I could shake his. “That was my name for your earth, wasn’t it?” He mused. “What has you all bothered that you have to talk it out with a bunch of deadbeats?” “Feelings.” I told him with an over exaggerated shudder. “Nothing major, I was just whining.” The look he gave me made it clear he didn’t believe me, so he picked up one of the chairs that had been knocked over in my earlier scuffle and sat down. “Being in a completely different reality than your child is not ‘nothing major’.” He said fixing me with a stern glare. I sighed and reclaimed my spot on the floor. “Well, no, of course not. But there isn’t really anything I can do about it… is there?” The pitying look he gave me was answer enough so I kept talking before he could say something that would make me cry. “So do you know what’s going to happen or… how does your whole role work?” I asked. He shook his head but allowed the change in subject. “I only inform the Watchers, nothing really special about me. No superpowers of any kind. Though if the message I just received from Heathcliff is to be believed my son had some help with a new friend in gaining a fire breathing suit, so maybe that will change soon.” He chuckled. Heathcliff? Fire breathing suit? Why did all that sound familiar? “You have a kid? That didn’t pop up in any of the movies.” He smiled mischievously at me. “Not in the Marvel movies maybe.” “Wait…” his smile grew as the pieces began to connect in my mind. “Are you telling me that Big Hero 6 is actually part of the MCU?!” I shrieked. He threw his head back and laughed at me as I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that somewhere out there, Hiro, Baymax and their friends were fighting crime. Does that mean… “If BH6 is canon in this universe, what about other Disney movies? Should I call you Mr. Fredrickson? How does being a Watchers informant work? Do they help-“ “Slow down, kid. I don’t know what else is out there that would be familiar to you. As for the Watchers, they help me get to where I need to be, make sure things happen a certain way. Key points in time all that. If things

go wrong I report it back to them.” “So, you’re going to tell them about me?” I asked nervously. “I know they’re giant peeping toms but are they also tattle tales to the TVA or something? Though to be honest, I’m kinda surprised the TVA hasn’t popped out and had me pruned yet.” “They’ve got bigger fish to fry with their upcoming battle with Kang.” He waved off my concerns. “As for you, the Watchers are already aware of you. And your plans to fiddle with the chain of events. Try not to stress kid. You’re in a reality with magic and heroes, enjoy yourself.” He groaned as he got to his feet and started heading toward the door. “I gotta go though, keep your chin up Daisypool.” I watched Stan Lee walk out of the shack then stared at the door for a little bit longer, until I couldn’t stand the smell of the dead guys who, as you know from an earlier chapter, had shit themselves upon dying. My walk back to my room was much longer than I thought it would be, probably because I was sore, covered in blood that wasn’t my own, and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and pass out face first in my mattress. I was so focused on getting into the shower I didn’t bother checking around to make sure Loki wasn’t here like I had the last couple of days. Though I probably should have… There are on my bed, on her hands and knees was Pazit, and right behind her slamming his cock repeatedly into her cunt was Loki. I stared at them with wide eyes as my brain processed what exactly I was seeing, then Pazit caught my reflection in the mirror. “Daisy!” She cried around a groan, and upon hearing my name Loki’s hips slowed and he turned to look at me. “We were hoping you’d be back soon, would you like to-“ “I was already taken care of thanks. I’m just going to shower and catch some Z’s.” I replied tonelessly before whirling around and slamming the door shut behind me. I practically ran to Loki’s room, throwing myself fully clothed into the freezing cold water, not willing to wait for it to warm up. My legs were shaking so badly I took a seat on the floor with my back against the wall, biting my fist to keep from sobbing out loud.

#wade wilson #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson fanfic #deadpool is a good bro #loki (marvel) #loki #loki imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #oc #original character #original content #original story #original series #loki x original female character #fake marriage #eventual real relationship #Loki is bad at feelings #thor: ragnorak #loki fanfiction #tom Hiddleston #rape/non-con elements #tom hiddleston/loki/original female character #breaking the fourth wall while breaking the fourth wall #OFC is a Wilson #nuff said #author is a potty mouth #vulgar language