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tumbling-darkling · 3 years

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Midnight Hang-Outs

This is a small crossover between Danny Phantom and DC! (Specifically Danny and Harley Quinn!) Following the prompts from Day 11 and 12 - Midnight and Scars (more of mentioned than revolving around it) Harley might be slightly ooc because I don’t read a lot of DC comics but maybe consider it more of like AU Harley Quinn. Mother hen. She feeds the vigilantes of Gotham on slow nights.

Harley glanced over to the boy sitting next to her on the rooftop of the Gotham Bank, she had been planning to break into it to draw out some fun with any nearby vigilantes but instead she had spotted the scrawniest looking glowing teen she’d ever seen. Well he was the only glowing teen she’d ever seen, but the poor kid was struggling against some freak in a white suit.

He had already devoured about 10 of the breakfast sandwiches she bought from a nearby 24 hour fast food joint, she couldn’t remember the name but her pal, Jeremy, always worked late shifts and gave her most of the grease filled wraps for free. Which she got a total of 20 and was beginning to worry that it wasn’t enough for this endless void. She thought she could calculate this kind of thing better based on Batsy’s kids, then again none of them had powers. That must be the factor throwing her off.

She glanced over him again, taking in his features for probably the hundredth time since she spotted him. White hair that gently wisped around his face like he was constantly underwater, pale blue-green skin with neon green freckles that sparkled like stars in the night, toxic green eyes that matched the freckles, flecks of blue hidden within the irises that shone in the right light. He hand pointed ears and little baby fangs, and his suit itself reminded her of the superheroes she’s faced before, but the material seemed all wrong when she got a closer look. It wasn’t spandex, or that thick armour like fibre that Batsy likes to use. She didn’t know what it was made out of. That flaming looking D was enough to hint at a superhero gig, like Superman and that ‘S’ on his chest. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be a symbol for hope, his name was Superman and that thing was an S, end of conversation.

The kid had taken off those gloves in order to eat, she didn’t blame him though, eating with gloves on was weird, and those white gloves would stain like a motherfucker. What caught her attention about it was the scars. Little one littered this kid's hands, and then there was a ligament scar coating his left hand. It was the brightest of all the scars, glowing slightly a wicked green as if he was still being electrocuted.

She turned her gaze back to the streets below, “So, what are you doing out this late?” She asked, avoiding sensitive topics like the scar. “It has to be way past midnight at this point.”

The kid glanced over to her, then shrugged, “had to chase Boxy all the way out here, the dude flies fast for a ghost obsessed in boxes.”

Harley glanced back over, noticing the kid now had finished the last of the sandwiches as he looked in the bag for more, shoving the garbage into it once he confirmed there was nothing left, “Boxy? Was that the freak in white?”

The kid shook his head, “nah, that was a government agent. G.I.W, or the Guys in White. Must’ve followed me, cornered me after I was already exhausted from chasing Boxy all over town. Boxy is the Box Ghost, blue ghost dude in overalls, fairly harmless but he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“Want me to blow the rest of those agents up for you?” Harley asked, leaning closer while flashing a sinister grin.

The kid jerked back, “no! No it’s fine, just caught me off guard! I can handle them just fine, you don’t need to blow anyone up!” He squeaked out quickly, wildly waving his hands around. Harley couldn’t help but grin at the display, he reminded her a lot of Batsy’s kids. Energetic, good hearts (most of the time), think they can handle the world.

“So are you one of Batsy’s kids? Harley voiced her thoughts.

The kid blinked owlishly at her, “Batsy’s… you mean Batman? The Batman?”

Harley shrugged, “yeah, Batsy. He has quite a lot of them so I like to try and stay updated when he gets a new kid. You almost fit the bill, young teen, dark past, though the powers would be new.”

“How do you know I have a dark past?”

“Well, you said you were a ghost, right? Meaning you died and judging by your age, died before you even finished high school. I’d call that a dark past,” she kept out the lingering question of how he died, that wasn’t something you exactly ask someone when you first meet them. “So you aren’t one of Batsy’s kids?”

The kid shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, “never even met the dark knight before. I barely visit Gotham, well anywhere if I can help it, I try to keep my problems in my home turf.”

“I see, you know what, I should’ve known better. Batsy would never let his kids run around this late anyway,” she hummed. “I did once see him chew a Robin out for fighting crime past his curfew, it got me arrested for sticking around to watch but boy was it worth it!” She laughed. She was surprised that Batman hadn’t gotten to this kid yet, anyhow. He didn’t always stick around Gotham ever since he joined that hero club, but that just meant that this dude had even more of a chance to find this kid. Must be dumb luck or something.

“Batman puts curfews on his sidekicks?” The kid asked, mouth agape.

“Well duh, the guy is all about the well-being of his kids. He has a no killing rule but he gets close to breaking it when one of his kids gets almost killed. He keeps them well fed, makes sure they sleep, I know because I can hear him from across rooftops at times and I fight enough of his kids to notice they aren’t skin and bones like you.”

The kid looked down at his ungloved hands, and she noticed him tracing the pattern of the ligament scar lightly with his other hand. His expression changed as he seemed to run through a series of thoughts before he spoke again, “why did you help me?” He asked, not looking up to meet her eyes, “you are a villain, right? You fight Batman and Robin, and other superheroes too if they face you. You know I’m not a villain, you said so yourself. So why help me? Wouldn’t it be better to just let a vigilante kid get knocked off so you don’t have to deal with him in future crimes?”

Harley felt her heart shatter, who the fuck hurt this kid like this? “I’m not some heartless bitch,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “you and all the teen sidekicks or vigilantes out there are still fucking kids. I have morals, and some villains don’t have the same morals as me, but seeing you getting kicked around by some freak in an alley where no one could see you? That kind of shit rubs me the wrong way. I fight teen heroes from time to time because I know they can handle it, they can fight back and I myself won’t stoop so low as to kill them if I manage to get in a few lucky hits.” She lightly nudged his shoulder, “and it’s not like you’ve personally wronged me or anything. I felt like being nice, helping out. You seem like a good kid, so why not help you out? Maybe one day I can call a favour and you can distract Bats while I kidnap the president?” She joked.

The kid looked up suddenly, sending his hair in rippling waves as he was giving her a wide eyed and the most worried look imaginable. She couldn’t help but let out another laugh, “I’m joking!” She clarified. “But I think we could have some pretty interesting game nights with Ivy. Not illegal game night, more like Uno or something. Maybe just a little gambling.”

The kid relaxed again, “well… uh… thanks. For helping me. And the food. And talking,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky.

“No problem, be sure to come visit again. Hey, maybe I can even introduce you to Bats at some point! Make a big show and pretend you are a villain and then BAM! Just kidding he’s just a glowing vigilante I helped out once!” She stood up, stretching her arms a little, “be sure to take it easy on your way to your home by the way, maybe take a nap or something on the way there.”

The kid nodded with a smile and stood up with her, then paused as shock filled his eyes and he spun quickly towards Harley, “Wait- how do you know I sleep-?”

Harley laughed, “well, I don’t think ghosts normally eat, so I’m assuming you sleep too,” she offered a soft smile, “just take it easy, and hey, if you ever find yourself in trouble.” Harley then pulled out a business card she usually kept for shits and giggles, handing over the poorly designed card to the kid, “know that you have a friend in Gotham who’s ready to help. And who knows how to get Batsy’s attention the fastest.” She winked.

The kid took the card, a confused grin tugging at his lips, “thanks. Hey, uh. I go by Phantom. Since I never really introduced myself.”

“Well Phantom, nice to meet you,” Harley grinned back.

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onlydreamofmysoul · 4 years

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Let Them Eat Cake part iii (Wolfstar Bake off au)

Chapter three!!!

This episode on The Great British Bake Off, it’s pastry week.

I’m not going to jinx it.

Oh my god, I am so sorry!

As usual… this is as good as it’s going to get.

“Have you been practicing?” Lily teased, bumping her hip against Remus’.

“Lily, we literally practice together. You’ve been eating my pastries all week.”

Lily pouted. “I mean, I know you’re right but also I’m literally with you all the time and I’m running out of conversation starters.”

Remus felt a laugh overtake him as he slung his arm over her shoulders. “Okay that’s fair, I’ll give you that much.”

“Especially since you declared some topics off-limit.” Lily grumbled. Remus sighed as he looked up at the clear blue sky. It was one of those cold crisp mornings where the grass is glittering with frost but not a single cloud decorated the sky.

“Fine, I remove my ban.”

Lily actually squealed as they entered the tent, drawing more than one look from the other contestants.

“Oh my god, keep it down or I’ll revoke it.”

Lily’s eyes widened as she comically mimed zipping her lips shut. Remus swung himself up on her worktop, and she swatted his knee but he didn’t move.

“So,” She prompted, her voice low. “You and Sirius?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Lils, I already told you, there is no ‘me and Sirius’.”

Lily shook her head. “That’s not true!”

Remus made a betrayed noise at the volume of her voice and she immediately hushed herself.

“Sorry!” She whispered. “But Re, I’m right. I mean, there wasn’t a you and Sirius at first but now… there’s definitely potential.”

“What’s there potential for?”

Remus’s heart shot right out of his chest and his stomach plummeted as Sirius hopped right up onto the counter next to him. Lily had visibly paled as the pair of them searched for an excuse.

“For… for the technical challenge to be easier this week.” Remus said, praying it would seem like a normal topic of conversation. Fortunately for him, being in a baking competition did tend to allow for the contestants to talk about it… a lot.

Sirius just nodded, seeming to go with the conversation and Lily and Remus shared a look of intense relief. On the outside, Remus was pleasantly chatting to Sirius. On the inside, he was plotting Lily Evans’ death.

“So, are we excited for pastry week?” Sirius asked.

“I mean, no but I was never gonna be so…” Remus shrugged trailing off.

“Ignore him, his practice rounds have been so good.” Lily endorsed. “As the person who gets to eat all of them, I’ve been very satisfied.”

“I’ll have to try them then.” Sirius was saying but Remus was watching the judges entering the tent. He hopped off the counter and moved to his own bench, with Sirius’ voice still jabbering in the background.

“Dude, I’m gonna be like ten pounds heavier leaving this show. Like wow, everything tastes so good I just want to eat it all.”

Lily’s laugh was interrupted by someone in the crew calling Sirius.

“Duty calls.” He said, saluting Remus and Lily before dashing off to the front of the tent, holding the attention of everyone in the room in the way that only someone with Sirius’ charisma could manage. James came close, but no one was quite on Sirius’ level. Which was good. Remus could barely handle one Sirius Black, never mind if there were two.

“Okay and we’re rolling in three, two, one.” Marlene called, signalling that the camera had begun.

“Welcome back bakers! It’s the week we’ve all been waiting for!”

“No James, it’s the week you’ve been waiting for.”

“That’s basically the same thing. It’s pastry week!”

“Today our lovely judges have asked you to prepare a tart or pie made with puff pastry.” Sirius said, gesturing to McGonagall and Dumbledore.

“The fillings are, as usual, yours to interpret, but it should be eight inches in diameter and have a clear design on top.”

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

And once again, they were off. Remus began work at a leisurely pace. He wasn't worried this week. Pastries were something he made quite often, his mother had a particular fondness for them so Remus made sure there were nearly always some in the house. He was making a lemon meringue pie and could probably make it with his eyes closed at this point.

Was it too early in the competition for him to feel this calm? Possibly. Was Remus going to question it? Nope, he would take any break from the nerves that he could get.

“He set about making the pastry first - it needed time to rest in the fridge and Remus wanted to allow as much time for that as possible. He soon settled into the familiar cathartic movements or cubing the butter and sieving flour, wishing he could have his music blasting like he did at home. Baking meant music playing as loud as humanly possible.

He rolled his dough into a ball, wrapped it in cellophane and popped it in the fridge, clicking the button on the kettle as he retired to his station, pulling out a pot and a clean whisking bowl. He made the lemon curd quickly, adding a generous amount of lemon zest to make sure the flavour was there before setting it aside to cool and whipping up some egg whites and sugar to make a meringue mix.

“You look confident.” Lily commented as Remus finished making his cup of tea, his meringue still wishing in the bowl.

“I don’t want to jinx it but… I am?” I feel like pastry week is the one I was born to do.

Lily laughed at his theatrics. “Going for star baker again I see.” But Remus shook his head.

“Nah I’m not that confident… I’m just not worried about going home this week. Does that make sense?”

Lily nodded smiling. Remus stuck out his tongue at her cheekily before turning back to work.

“I’d be careful where you put that tongue Lupin.” Sirius said, appearing besides Remus in the manner in which only Sirius could move, flowing gracefully through a room. Remus tried so hard not to blush. He failed.

(But it was hot in the tent, so that would explain it… right?)

“It seems like a valuable commodity, you being on a baking show and all. Wouldn’t want you to lose your main asset.

Now if Remus were one; not on national television, two; a person who could deliver smooth lines well and three; talking to anyone other than his celebrity crush he might have said something along the lines of “Will you take care of it for me then?”

But Remus was on national television, he wasn’t smooth, this was Sirius Black and to be perfectly honest, that was a really terrible, cringy line that didn’t make all that much sense but Remus never claimed to be good at this.

Instead he just continued blushing and laughed nervously, hoping it would cover up his little pause.

“I already have an official taste tester, so I’m sure I’d get along just fine.”

“Did someone say ‘official taste tester’?” James chimed in, appearing on the other side of Remus.

“Okay, no offence but take this as your official eviction notice, there are too many people behind this bench.” Remus said, his tone joking but he also meant the words. He would chat later, now he needed to get back to work.

“Oh how you wound us!” James cried, clutching his chest. Sirius pretended to break down in tears before they both grinned and Remus and promptly went off to bug someone else. Remus shook his head fondly and set back to work. He rolled out his pastry and lined the tin, adding some (frankly, beautiful) crimping detail on the edge and popping it into the oven for fifteen minutes for a blind bake.

“Here we go.” He half sang, dragging out the last word as he pulled the tin out of the oven and ladled in his lemon curd. He piped on the meringue and took out the little blowtorch he had to finish it.

“I have a weapon!” He declared, brandishing it to Lily and Tonks on the bench next to him burst out laughing.

“Who would have thought that the innocent little Lupin would have so much fun with something so dangerous.” She teased.

“Oi!” Remus protested. “Who’s calling me innocent?”

Lily looked at him like he had lost his head. “Have you not been keeping up with Bake Off Twitter?”

“Uh, no? Should I be?”

“Yes!” Lily and Tonks enthused at the same time.

“It’s like, my only source of entertainment at this point.” Peter chimed in and Remus looked around in confusion.

“Am I the only one who didn’t know about this?”

Lily shrugged. “I guess so.”

Sighing, Remus turned back to his pie. All he wanted to do now was whip out his phone and check out what was being said, but he had a cake to make. Or really, a pie to furnish.

Ever so carefully, Remus turned on the blowtorch and began moving it over the top of his creation, watching the white piping turn a beautiful gold.

“I’m kind of obsessed with the blue flame, I’m not going to lie.” Sirius said, coming up to Remus once again and Remus really wasn’t sure how he was supposed to handle fire and Sirius Black at the same time. This competition sure was testing more than his ability to bake.

“How long do we have left?” He asked instead of replying.

“Two minutes.” Sirius confirmed, just before James announced it to the entire room from the other side of the tent.

Remus nodded, biting his lip in concentration as he tidied up the finishing touches of his presentation, very aware of Sirius’ eyes on him the whole time, and then time was up.

“Okay bakers, set your creations on the end of your bench please.” Sirius said and the judges came into the tent.

“Mr Lupin, we’ll start with you today.” Dumbledore announced pleasantly and Remus smiled, the nerves that had been absent all morning making an appearance.

Dumbledore cut into the pie and Remus couldn’t stop himself from smiling when it looked perfect on the inside.

“The flavours in this are excellent.” McGonagall commented, going for another bite. Remus bit down his grin.

“Thank you.”

“I would have liked to maybe see a little more decoration on top.” Dumbledore said and Remus nodded along. “But otherwise, this was a lovely treat. I do have an affinity for lemon, you know.”

Remus beamed as they moved away. Pastry week was off to a good start.

“Thank god it’s lunch.” Lily groaned, throwing herself into a chair. “I know we have stools in the tent but, it’s just not the same.”

“Preach!” Tonks cried, collapsing down next to her.

Peter shuffled in, a few of the other contestants joining them. Sirius and James filtered over from where they had been chatting to the judges. Remus pulled out his phone so that he could finally look at Twitter.

“Remus Lupin is such a sweetheart, I would die for him.”

“Remus Lupin blushing is my new religion.”

“Has anyone else noticed the way Sirius looks at Remus? No? Just me?”

The last one caused Remus’ apparently infamous blush to appear. He really hoped Sirius hadn’t seen that one. Remus was just kidding himself if he thought Sirius hadn’t. He had been in the media since he was small - both his parents being famous politicians. Sirius was famously separated from the rest of the Black clan, leaving them and making his own life. He had jumped around jobs for a little while, Remus remembered reading once in an interview Sirius had done in some newspaper, before falling in love with presenting. He had been appearing on shows ever since.

“I’m so ready to just go to sleep now.” Peter groaned and Remus nodded in agreement.

“Seconded.” He said, wishing he could just close his eyes for a few moments. Sadly, the show must go on.

“How about we all go get dinner after we finish filming today?” Sirius suggested. Suddenly Remus was wide awake. The end of the day couldn’t come quick enough.

“Today for our technical challenge, our judges would like you to make six identical apple turnovers.” Sirius announced.

“They should have a buttery, flaky pastry with a soft, sweet filling.” James continued. “Everything you need can be found under the cloth on your bench.”

Remus eyed the blue and white checked cloth, keeping it’s secrets hidden.

“Do our judges have anything they say before they go?”

“Make sure you watch out for the colour.” McGonagall said vaguely and with that, they were gone.

“Well that was helpful.” Remus muttered to Lily as they uncovered their ingredients, Lily giggling at him.

“Have you ever made these before?” She asked.

“Um… Once maybe?” Remus said, scrunching up his nose in thought. “But it was years ago. Have you?”

Lily shook her head. “No. I’m not sure why because I love them, but I’ve never made them.”

Remus nodded and picked up the sheet of ingredients, scanning the instructions quickly.

“They seem… pretty okay?”

“That’s what I was thinking too.” Lily agreed. “Which is making me nervous.”

Remus chuckled and nodded his head. “I suppose we’d better get to it then.”

“I would suppose so.” Lily agreed and that was the most they spoke for another while.

Remus made his dough, set it aside and prepared the apples, the actions new but familiar enough that his brain could tune out a little. His traitorous mind wandered to Sirius, to the tweets talking about the way Sirius looked at him. Remus could almost imagine it, him icing a cake, biting his lip in concentration while Sirius looked on, wishing he could be the one to take his lip between his teeth-

Remus shook himself out of his thoughts. That was crazy. Sirius didn’t look at him that way and he was only teasing himself to let himself fantasise about it.

He filled his pastries carefully, not wanting to over fill them or the dough would split, but if he under-stuffed them, they would just look collapsed and sad. He crimped the edges with a fork and using a knife, carefully cut slits in the dough to let the steam escape. Finally, he brushed the tops with an egg wash and sprinkled sugar over them before placing the tray into the oven.

Bake until cooked the recipe said and Remus groaned. Would it kill them to be a little more specific.

He turned around and saw Lily make a face at her recipe and smiled, knowing she was thinking the same thing. He crouched down and peeked into his oven, watching the dough cook.

“A watched pot never boils.”” Sirius chirped from above him and Remus looked up.

“Good thing this isn’t a pot then.”

Sirius snorted and hopped onto Remus’ counter. “How’re things going?”

“Pretty okay? So far today everything’s gone right, so I’m trying not to jinx it.”

Sirius laughed. “That’s fair. I won’t ask you any more so.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Remus grinned. “So, tonight? Don’t we all have dinner together anyway?”

Sirius shrugged. “At different times though! I mean, I know we have to stay in the hotel to protect our little bake off bubble but I thought maybe we could pretend it was a real night out, get dressed up, all that kind of thing.”

Remus nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Remus barely dared to breathe as they held eye contact for a moment, but then Sirius coughed and jumped down and Remus looked in on his turnovers, the moment nothing more than a blip on his radar.

(A blip he would think about a lot).

(But it was just a blip).

Remus looked at his pastries. Fuck, they were a little darker than he would have liked. Not burned, but still not the nice golden Remus had wanted. Fucking Sirius with his gorgeous fucking face and his maddening smile and his dumb ideas.

Remus set his pastries out on the plate he would present them on with a sigh. They weren’t bad, really they weren’t. But they could have been perfect.

Fucking Sirius Black.

(But damn if Remus wasn’t enamoured).

Sirius and James called time up and the bakers all made their way to the table at the front of the tent to put their baking behind their pictures for the blind judge. Remus waited patiently at the side for a moment as the people crowded around the table, waiting until there was more room. Finally he stepped up next to Peter and was just putting his plate down when Peter, who was talking to Tonks, waved his hands in a dramatic hand gesture and knocked the plate right out of Remus’ hands.

There was nothing Remus could do. From the moment Peter had made contact, Remus was doomed, unable to catch the plate. He could only watch in horror as his pastries crashed to the floor.

“Oh my god, Remus I am so sorry!” Peter cried in horror, dropping to his knees to Remus’ aid.

“It’s okay Pete.” He said, his throat tight. Just needing a minute to figure out what the fuck to do. Sirius was there in a heartbeat, salvaging two of the turnovers and putting them on a plate.

“Hey, Re, don’t worry, I’ll go talk to the judges now, it’ll be fine, I promise.”

Remus met his eyes and smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

Peter was still apologising profusely so Remus stood up and turned to him. “Pete, it’s fine really. It was an accident.”

They all sat down on their stools and Lily took Remus’ hand in hers. He squeezed it a little trying not to panic. This wasn’t his fault.

James and Sirius arrived just a second before the judges, having explained the situation. McGonagall and Dumbledore went to Remus’ first, still not knowing of course that the disaster turnovers belonged to him.

“I heard there was a bit of an accident.” Dumbledore said, eyeing the plate. “But never mind that, we’ll judge based on this one.

Remus let out a breath of relief as the pastry was cut down the middle and McGonagall and Dumbledore both took a bite.

“Slightly overbaked.” McGonagall commented. “But otherwise, quite good. I like the apple to pastry ratio.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Overall, quite good.”

Remus let out a breath of relief, having experienced the most stress he had encountered so far on the competition. The judges went through the rest of the pastries, and were quite impressed. They had all produced some decent bakes.

Remus came fourth, Lily came second. Peter had come fifth and Tonks won it. The rest of the contestants filed in the other slots.

Peter apologies again as Remus helped tidy his station and gather his things but Remus just smiled tiredly. “Pete, it’s really fine. There’s no harm done.”

Peter smiled gratefully and moved away. Remus walked back to the hotel with Lily, ready to relax.

“Are you wearing a shirt?” Lily yelled from the bathroom.

“Yeah but with skinny jeans. Dress that shit down.”

Lily snorted as she emerged into the bedroom wearing a floaty sort of dress that stopped just above the knee.

“Oh you look great!” Remus enthused as she gave him a little twirl.

“Yeah and you look hot. Who would have thought the bookworm could have such scandalous jeans!”

Remus blushed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Remus they’re practically painted on. But it’s great. Sirius will love them.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Yeah as if I was thinking about Sirius when I got dressed.”

(He was thinking about Sirius when he got dressed).

“You ready to go down?” She asked, holding out her elbow like a gentleman escorting a lady to a dance. Remus chuckled and linked her arm and together they strolled down to the hotel’s restaurant

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Britain's favourite bakers!” James declared as he strolled up to them just inside the restaurant. They both laughed but Remus didn’t miss the pink stain on Lily’s cheeks.

“Grab a seat anywhere.” James said, gesturing to the one long table, already half-filled with contestants and crew alike.

“The host even on your night off!” Lily joked and James grinned.

“What can I say? I give the people what they want.”

Remus and Lily went to sit down, slotting in by Tonks, Marlene and Peter. Sirius and James joined them a couple of minutes later and the night kicked off. No one was drinking - they were filming the next morning. None of the bakers were risking being anything less than on top of their game and the rest of the crew were up a lot earlier to get the set prepared, but they didn’t need it. The food was good, the conversation was good and the people… well the people were great.

“So how did you get into presenting?” Lily asked Sirius as they all dung into their main course.

James and Sirius grinned at it. “Well Jamie always knew it was what he wanted to do,” Sirius said, ruffling James’ hair and laughing when James tried to shove him off. “He was insufferable in school, always doing dramatic presentations and the like. I realised one day when I came to pick him up from the set of a show and, I don’t know, I just thought ‘hey I could do this’.”

Remus smiled at the careful nonchalance Sirius had, it was almost as if he didn’t realise what an icon he’d become in the country.

“How did you all get into baking?”

Lily blushed, looking down at her plate, Remus burst out laughing, already knowing the story.

“Her sister told her she wouldn’t be able to bake well and Lily had to prove her wrong.” He told them and the table burst out laughing.

“In my defence,” Lily protested, “That was only for that first time! I realised I loved it and that’s why I bake now.”

“I don’t believe you.” Tonks said as he took a bite of her food, ducking when Lily threw a balled up napkin at her head.

“How about you Remus?” Sirius asked and Remus looked to his left to see those grey eyes trained on him.

“My mom always baked.” He said with a shrug. “I always used to help her. I don’t even remember when I started doing it myself, it was so long ago. I suppose it’s just something I’ve always done.”

Sirius smiled. “That’s nice.”

“Well I,” Tonks interjected, “Was forced to start baking in school. I hated it.”

Remus looked at her incredulously. “What?”

“Yeah! But then there was this cake I had to make for one of my exams and it was so good. And I wanted to eat it one day, so I made it, and I realised I didn’t actually hate baking, I just hated baking in school.”

“Okay but, does Bake Off not remind you of school?” Peter asked.

“Oh yeah,” Tonks agreed, nodding empathically. “I’m having major flashbacks. I have no idea how I thought this would be a good idea.”

“Tonks, I say this with love, but you are an idiot.” Remus wheezed, tears building in his eyes from laughing.

The desserts came out and the waitress with ‘Dorcas’ on her name tag joked that she hoped they would be up to standards. Remus didn’t miss the way Marelene’s eyes followed her around the room. He looked up and saw Sirius noticing him notice. Their eyes met and Remus couldn’t fully express what it was, but something passed between them. Remus grinned and lifted a forkful of cake to his mouth, holding eye contact throughout. Sirius bit his lip and grinned.

It was a good night.

“Hello again bakers! As you well know, it’s time for our Showstopper challenge!” James said, grinning broadly. “This time, our judges are looking for a savoury twist.”

“They would like you to prepare twenty four amuse-bouche, made with filo pastry and of course, with a savoury filling of your choice.” Sirius continued

“Judges, any words of advice?”

“The trick to filo pastry is to try to stretch it as thin as possible.” Dumbledore said, and with that, the pair of them left the tent.

“Eloquent as ever.” James joked. “Alright, ready?”

“Set.”

“Bake!”

“Here we go again…” Tonks drawled, dragging out the last word. Remus shot her a grin.

“I hope you don’t feel like you’re back in school.” He teased. Tonks threw an onion at him. Things were good.

“Are you able to get the window pane?” Lily asked, lifting up on her tip-toes to try to peer over at Remus’ bench.

Remus lifted up his dough, stretching it and holding it up to the light. ‘Window panes’ in baking were essentially when you could stretch the dough so thin, it became transparent.”

“Em… Kind of? I mean it’s not perfect but I suppose it’s not the worst.” He shrugged and put it in the fridge. “As usual… that’s as good as it’s gonna get.”

Lily chuckled and placed her own dough in the fridge. “Seconded.”

Remus took out a pan and while it heated up, he started chopping sausage and black pudding into tiny pieces. He threw them on the pan to fry while he sliced an apple as thinly as possible before tossing them in the pan too. After he had taken his filling off the heat and let it cool down a little, he took out his dough and divided it into twenty five sections - leaving an extra piece of dough in case something went wrong.

He rolled the dough out until he thought it couldn’t possibly get any thinner, and then he rolled it a little dough. As with the turnovers, adding the right amount of filling was a little tricky. Remus had discovered that exactly one tablespoon seemed to produce the best result, so he measured pedantically, wanting to make sure this challenge was as perfect as possible. He crimped the edges (he was going to be so good at crimping after this week) and popped his pastries into the oven, starting a timer and then all that was left to do right now, was wait.

“This is the worst part.” Lily groaned. “It’s so boring.”

“Now I’m having school flashbacks.” Tonks agreed.

“Oh my god, stop being so dramatic and just make a cup of tea.” Remus said. “Tea is the magic solution to everything.”

Tea, it turned out, was not quite the magic solution to everything, because when Remus took his pastries out of the oven, a few of them had split.

“But I had a formula!” He muttered mostly to himself. “Dumbass pastries, doing me dirty like this.”

“And here we have a wild Remus Lupin in his natural habitat.” Sirius commentated, appearing at his side. “Remus, are you really talking to the baking?”

Remus looked at him, his face revealing nothing. “They betrayed me.”

“Talking to them won’t change that.”

“Maybe not, but at least they’ll feel ashamed, the little shits.”

“Remus! Can you never let me get footage that I can actually use? I swear I spend half my time editing your scenes, you and your mouth.” Marlene exclaimed.

Remus winced. “Oops?”

Marlene grumbled as she walked away. Sirius shot him a wink.

“Don’t worry,” He said. “I quite like your mouth.”

Remus dropped the pastry he was holding. It was a good thing he made twenty five.

Peter won star baker. “A bloody good thing too - pastries are basically the only thing I eat!” and a woman named Sarah was sent home. Remus registered approximately none of this. All he could hear were Sirius’ words replaying over and over in his head.

“I quite like your mouth.”

It really was official. Remus Lupin was completely and utterly fucked.

#let them eat cake #bake off #bake off au #tgbbo #wolfstar #let them eat cake chapter 3 #bake off au chapter 3 #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin/Sirius Black #remus lupin x sirius black #Lily Evans #James Potter #tonks

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jasonrae117 · 4 years

Text

This is my first post on Tumblr. I have an ongoing story on fanfiction but I felt like trying something new. I was heavily inspired by @flyingkiki because timrae is too good of a pairing and there needs to be more stories. This is my contribution. I will be using songs throughout since its a band au but only this first chapter will have the whole song typed out. Furthermore all songs in this story exist in our world but for sake of my storytelling some will be "written" as originals by the character while others still belong to their respective artist which I will note.

For part one:

1.Dear Society- Madison Beer (As is)

2. Ribs - Lorde (As is)

3. Like That - Bea Miller and Aurora (Intended as band original)

4. COPYCAT - Billie Eilish (intended as band original)

Bad Idea, Good Intentions

Part 1

Tim wondered why he found himself at a club on this Saturday night. Him and his friends had just graduated with their bachelor's degree in their respective fields and they convinced him to celebrate with them at this club.

By 'friends' he meant primarily his best friend Connor. The other two guys were more of Connor's friends than his but Tim knew them well enough to consider them his too. However, Connor had called him the day before and practically begged Tim to come. Apparently there was this new band that he knew the drummer and this was their highest profile gig yet and Connor wanted to support his friend by bringing whoever he could. Tim reluctantly agreed, feeling like he should get out more and spend time with his friends outside of college.

Tim already felt like this was a bad idea when he walked into a packed club with flashing lights, a fully stocked bar, and a large stage.

"Tim! You made it!" Connor walked over to him and gave him a one armed hug as the other was occupied holding a half empty pint of beer.

Tim smiled at his long time best friend. "Of course buddy, I keep my promises."

Connor dragged him over to the bar where their other friends Garfield and Garth were sitting. Both greeted him with cheers and hugs.

"Dude, this place is fucking great! So many hot girls!"

"Good God Gar, can you keep it in your pants for one freaking night?" Garth shoved the blond playfully and took a sip of his drink.

"What can I say, the ladies love me. I just wish your stupid band played something easier to dance to." Gar crossed his arms and glared at the stage where the four person band was performing.

"This is your friend's band?" Tim directed at Connor.

"Yeah, this is Nevermore! Wally West is the drummer. Jinx is on bass, Argent is keyboard, and Raven is the lead singer and guitarist." He pointed to each of the members.

"What the hell kind of names are those. That Raven girl already has a creepy vibe and she chooses a name like that? What's with the Edgar Allan Poe obsession?" Garfield looked bewildered and shook his head.

"I'm shocked you even know who that is. But dude, it's just their stage names."

Tim looked back to Connor wanting to know more about the band that made him come here. "What are their real names?"

"I don't know." Connor shrugged.

"Are they single?" Garth had asked grinning.

"I don't know about the other two, but don't even try with Jinx, that's Wally's girl."

The guys entered a discussion about Connor's and Wally's friendship and what his stage name was. Tim heard it was something like Kid Flash but he wasn't paying too much attention. He was focused on the band onstage.

The song sounded familiar but Tim wasn't big on music. Each member seemed to have their unique style and color but they all worked well together. Wally was wearing yellows, Jinx wore black and hot pink striped knee high socks with a short leather skirt and black mesh top. Her hair was dyed entirely bubble gum pink and wrapped up in two space buns. Argent had black hair with red highlights running through it and an all black outfit with a studded leather jacket. The lead singer, Raven, really caught his eye. She has a short purple bob that fell to just below her chin.

Her outfit is what really had his mind stopping. She had on a black long sleeved ribbed shirt with a large keyhole neckline, showing off the tops of her full breasts, which was tucked into royal blue shorts that seemed to be barely long enough to even be classified as shorts with frayed edges. Her legs were encased in black fishnet stocking ending in a chunky heeled combat boot. Tim liked to think of himself as a gentleman that Alfred would be proud of but...the woman was hot. She had an hourglass figure but probably the best set of legs and ass he's ever seen. She was almost unreal how incredible she looked.

The banter of his friends regained his attention as the band switched to another song.

"Hey fellas, let's go hit the floor, this song is much better!" Garth and Connor finished their drinks and placed them on the bar agreeing to Garfield's request. They looked to Tim when he didn't move.

"You guys go ahead, I'll be there in a second. I haven't even gotten a single drink in."

Connor threw an arm around him. "That's what happens when you arrive late." He ruffled his hair a bit. "Alright man, we'll try to find a spot close to the stage. See you there."

With that his friends mingled within the crowd. Tim turned to the bar and ordered a bourbon on the rocks, he wasn't great in heavily social settings like this so he needed to calm his mind a bit. As he waited, his focus returned to the band.

They were actually really good. While he was slightly confused since their music was slower than he expected, the songs themselves were great. The lead singer had a lower voice of an alto but in the next song they started, it was clear she had a wider range. It was smooth when it needed to be but raspy and gritty, adding to the unique sound. The other girls added to the dynamic with their higher notes and he found he really liked it.

The slow beat of their next song reverberated around the bar, drawing everyone in, particularly Tim. He moved from his spot at the countertop to one of the metal standing tables that was currently unoccupied. It stood to the mid-right of the stage with a small gathering of dancing patrons between him and the stage. He gently placed his hand that held the almost empty glass of bourbon on the surface of the table as he leaned into it.

The lead singer Raven, he recalled from Gar's description earlier, slowly grasped the microphone. One delicate hand curled around the mic while the other laid gently in the supporting pole. Her almost raspy voice fluttered through the speakers.

Don't be cautious, don't be kind

You committed, I'm your crime

The low octave sounded almost sensual and her hand slid down the pole in time with the held note.

Push my button anytime

You got your finger on the trigger, but your trigger finger's mine

Her left hand formed into the shape of a gun and as she 'pulled the trigger' she collapsed her hand save for her single index finger that she spun slowly in a circle. Tim grinned at the small gesture representing being wrapped around one's finger and he couldn't pull his eyes away from how delicate and smooth her hands were. Even from the distance he sat she looked flawless.

Silver dollar, golden flame

Dirty water, poison rain

Perfect murder, take your aim

I don't belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name

Raven removed the microphone from the stand with her left hand and held onto the pole with the other as she slid down to a squat. On the beat she pulsed up and down to the next lyrics.

By the way, you've been uninvited

'Cause all you say are all the same things I did

Tim swallowed, eyes having never left her body he watched as the muscles in her legs contract and saw how her amazing ass peeked out slightly more from her bottoms. The routine had certainly taken a turn to a sexual nature and he couldn't help being turned on by the attractive lead singer. Her voice seemed to just purr in his ear. She rose to her feet again as she began the chorus.

Copycat trying to cop my manner

Watch your back when you can't watch mine

Copycat trying to cop my glamour

Why so sad, bunny, you can't have mine?

Did she just make eye contact with him? Holy shit, she definitely did. And was that a smirk? Was he drooling? Tim wiped at his mouth to confirm that he did not embarrass himself. He shook his head a bit to rid himself of the ridiculous idea that she could pick him out in the growing crowd. Many more patrons, especially the male ones, drew in closer and he found that he only had a small space around his table left. No way she looked directly at him.

Call me calloused, call me cold

You're italic, I'm in bold

She sauntered to the right side of the stage before flipping around and doing a body roll on "italic" followed by a deeper and more exaggerated one on "bold" where she popped her ass out more. There was a cheer from almost all the guys in the building and a flurry of whistles.

Call me cocky, watch your tone

You better love me, 'cause you're just a clone

Was Time seeing right? He could have sworn she winked at him as she strutted to his side of the stage. He knew he wasn't imagining things when she deliberately pointed at him accusingly while swaying her hips. Damn it was hot in here. He knocked the rest of his drink back hoping to steady his thrumming heart.

The chorus repeated with her returning to center stage and moving the stand off to the side. She dropped to the floor and threw her legs over the side where some of the guys tried to touch her before a bouncer pushed them back. As she finished the chorus she swung her legs back onstage but pivoted so she was parallel to the edge. One leg straightened while the upstage leg was bent.

I would hate to see you go

Hate to be the one that told you so

You just crossed the line

You've run out of time

Raven brought her upper body down flat with such ease and no doubt incredible core control. She gracefully placed an arm above her head as it turned to look out at the audience all keeping in time with the now soft melody of the song.

so sorry, now you know

Sorry I'm the one that told you so

On the extended note she curled back up and hugged her knees briefly before sitting up and resting her ass on her heels. Tim was not only impressed with her fluidity and the hot choreography, but the range she held in her vocals. He was starting to think this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry

Raven bowed her head and sang softly into the mic looking like she was praying for their forgiveness. The music silenced for a beat before she snapped her head up with a devious glint in her eyes, a small curl to the side of her lips, and a quirked brow.

Sike

She got up to her knees and swayed back nearly to the former sitting position before thrusting forward again on each beat.

By the way, you've been uninvited

'Cause all you say are all the same things I did...

...you can't have mine?

She had risen to her feet again through a combination of swaying hips and body rolls. She retrieved the mic stand again and returned the mic to its post before the last lyric and ended the song in the same pose she started with.

At the song's last note the crowd erupted in applause, whistling, and to Tim's displeasure, sexual comments from some of the more rowdy and drunk guys. The band bowed and waved before thanking the owner and the audience and retreated off stage.

His earlier worry about the band playing songs inappropriate to the occasion was thrown out the window because all parts of him thoroughly enjoyed their last song. He wouldn't dare say that to anyone but damn him if it wasn't true. That lead singer was just so gorgeous and had such a unique and fantastic voice, this must be every guy's fantasy. It was his now but who was he kidding, she must have a boyfriend. Wait...but didn't she wink at him? No, it was all an act. God he needed another drink.

Tim made his way back to the bar and ordered another bourbon on the rocks. He paid his tab and leaned on the bar, replaying the movements of Raven's body. He felt a little shameful for not watching the other bandmates as the whole song was performed well, but she was too captivating. Probably why she was the lead singer.

A pat on the shoulder interrupted him from his non-stop overthinking and he turned to see the smiling faces of the friends he came here with. The friends he had completely forgotten about until now.

"Dude where the hell did you go? We had a great spot just left of center stage! There were a ton of hot girls dancing with us!" Gar waved his arms around almost smacking Garth and Connor. The two just shaking their heads and laughing.

"Not to mention a great view of the performance." Connor nudged Tim and an almost wistful look came across his eyes. Tim swallowed hard again.

"And what a performance that was. Shit that lead singer has a great body." Garth swung his arm around Gar's shoulder.

"And voice." Tim coughed and immediately took another sip of his drink realizing that it didn't help.

Garfield chuckled. "Who was listening to the music when she worked that ass like that. She probably got ninety percent of the guys in here hard by the first chorus."

"And you said she was creepy." Connor poked Gar in his chest.

He held his hands up defensively. "Hey, that was before I knew she could get down like that! I mean her name is the bird of death, a bad omen. The other girls' names are kinda hot."

"Raven is just her stage name." Tim interjected. He didn't know why he felt like defending her, he quite literally didn't know her at all and this was typical Garfield behavior.

"Woah chill Tim. Got the hots for the lead singer? Wouldn't be the only one. Do you think she's single?" Garth lightly pushed his shoulder and took a seat next to him at the bar, flagging the bartender down. The other two looked at Connor who seemed to have the most information on the girl.

He head flicked back and forth between the two men staring at him before he understood their eager silence. "Look, I don't actually know that much about her. I just know about the fake names and mostly about Jinx. Wally doesn't really talk about the other two and I don't ask."

Garfield groaned. "Why the hell not? Your friend is the drummer for a hot girl band and you don't ask about their relationship status, or what their real names are?"

"No I don't because that's weird and I'm sure he's told me their names, I just don't remember right now. Not like you'd have a shot with them." The three men laughed at Garfield's expense and he crossed his arms and pouted.

"I don't see a line of girls wanting to dance with you Kent."

"It doesn't bother me all that much Logan. Plus, I came here to support my friend not hook up with some random chick."

"Ugh you guys are all lame. I'm heading back out there. This band is playing music more my speed." Gar grounded out and spun on his heel, disappearing into the sea of bodies.

"Good job Con, you made him all grumpy. Now I gotta calm him down." Garth grabbed his beer and followed his friend.

Tim was now reminded of why he was hesitant to come tonight. He wasn't the best of friends with Garth and Garfield and he came solely because of the desperate plea of Connor. He looked over to the stage and saw the main band playing their hearts out, music blaring over the speakers in an uptempo beat. Although it was more along the lines of typical club music, he found he preferred the darker melodies of Nevermore.

"Yo buddy! Where'd that big brain of yours disappear to?" Connor waved his hand in front of his face dizzying him for a second. Tim reached and snatched Connor's arm to stop him and dropped it once his motion stilled.

"Sorry, I was just trying to remember something. How are you doing? Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah it's great. Awesome way to celebrate getting our degrees. I wish I had someone a little more special with me though, better company than those two numbskulls. How'd they graduate anyhow?" Connor took the seat the Garth vacated and spun facing the bar.

"Well, shockingly, Garth is actually pretty smart and Gar just copies off him when he can. He certainly didn't graduate magna cum laude." The two shared a laugh, lightening the mood once more. "You'll get that someone soon. Why don't you go back out there and see if she's there?"

"I feel like my soulmate isn't dancing in a club right now. I wouldn't be if my good friend wasn't playing for a big audience tonight."

"Fair enough. His band was really good. Do they play often?"

"At smaller venues yeah. I'm sure they'll be playing more here though, if any of the guys have anything to say about it." Connor smiled as if replaying a fond memory. "What do you think about Raven and Argent?"

"They're cool, great voices and Argent is amazing on the keyboard. How she keeps track of all the sounds is beyond me."

Connor let out a lighthearted chuckle. "I meant as attractive women, not their talents. Dork."

"Oh, yeah they're attractive."

"Wow, you're just not into this dude talk are you?" Connor swiveled to face him.

"I'm sorry, what am I supposed to say? I'm not going to sit here and objectify them." Tim looked seriously into his glass. It wasn't his intention to ruin the fun but he wasn't a fan of talking about his romantic interests, it felt too personal even though Connor was his best friend.

"Sorry Tim. I didn't mean to offend you, just dumb guy stuff. I guess I've been hanging out with Gar squared too much." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Damn Tim really had a way with being a downer.

"Nah, it's all good. I think I'm just constantly in my head too much. Gotta be professional all the time and all that jazz."

"Yeah man, well I'm gonna check on those idiots. Try to relax and have fun." Connor stood up and began to move before Tim stopped him.

"For what it's worth, I think Raven is the hottest. Her voice is positively sinful." Tim smirked at him and Connor's eyes widened as if Tim had spilt some highly classified secret.

"There you go man! Hey maybe I can see if Wally can hook us up with a meet and greet." He winked and came back toward Tim to clap him on the shoulder. He started walking backwards toward the mass of people dancing to the music while pointing at Tim and sending him a knowing wink again. Tim just shook his head and laughed.

#tim drake #Raven #timrae #band au #robrae #bad idea good intention #first post #hopefully this isn't awful #thanks #teen titans

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marvelmadam08 · 5 years

Text

Jellybeans

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 54: Don’t lick it/ Prompt 93: What’s behind your back

Synopsis: Chris eats a bunch of your candy before an interview, unaware that they're edibles.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety attacks, drug use, swearing, bad reaction to drugs

A/N: I do not know if Chris actually takes medication for anxiety, this is just a fanfiction. Also have no idea what he’s saying in the GIF below, but I’m assuming it’s ‘Fried eggs’

~~~~~

To say you had a hard time speaking in public would be an understatement. Back when you were in school, if you had to give a presentation you'd stare at your classmates’ shoes the entire time. Which could've been linked to the small shoe obsession you had now, but that was a different story.

So how did you managed to make it this far in your acting career without a complete nervous breakdown during press tours and meet and greets? Edibles, medically approved, and perfectly safe. Not enough to get you completely incoherent, but just enough to calm your nerves, as long as you took the prescribed amount.

That's where you were now, in your dressing room, sneaking a few 'special' jellybeans, just before you and your other cast members had to take the stage and speak in front of at least a thousand fans and reporters.

"You okay?" Chris came up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, meeting your eyes in the mirror

"Yeah, what about you?"

You knew how bad his anxiety was, there were times when his medication wasn’t enough to calm him and you had to pull him off to the side and help him get out of his head. When it was you, Chris would do the same, distracting you with inappropriate jokes and giving you his hand to draw small doodles on. It was how your friendship worked. Although you wished it would go further than ‘just friends’ but again that’s another story for another day.

“I’m good.” he glanced down at your hand “Ooh jellybeans.”

“Nope.” you smacked his hand away, sealing the bag shut “None for you.”

“Rude, if I had candy I’d share with you.” he gasped in pretend shock

“Good thing I’m not you.”

You knew Chris wasn’t a stranger to marijuana, but he always said it was in his party days and he would never do it again, which is why you never told him about your personal coping methods.

“Hey guys, five minutes to go, we need you out here.” the stagehand tells you two

You carelessly tossed the bag of jellybeans on top of your purse, before pulling Chris out of the room. He tells you something about leaving his phone behind and having to run back to get it. While you waited for him to get back, Sebastian and Anthony walk up to greet you.

“First stop on the press tour, you ready Miss director?” Anthony nudged your ribs

“Stop that, I’m nervous enough.”

“You shouldn’t be, it’s a great movie, amazing script. And the cast is phenomenal.” Seb smiled at you

“Okay everybody, let’s get the ball rolling!” the MC spoke into her mic

Chris slid up next to you, waiting to be called up after Seb and Anthony. You didn’t pay him any mind until you caught him eating something colorful from his hand.

“What are you eating?”

He tucked his hand behind his back like a child “Nothing.”

“What’s behind your back? Chris, let me see.”

He spun around while you tried to grab his hand, when he wasn’t letting up you tickled his ribs until a few jellybeans fell from his hand.

“Aw man, I dropped a yellow one, those are my favorites.” he continued to eat the ones in his hand “You’re holding out on me, these are good.”

“Chris, stop eating them.” you felt your heart rate increase with each passing second “How many of those did you eat?”

“I dunno a handful maybe.” he was handed a mic

“Chris Evans!”

“See you out there.” Chris tossed the remaining jellybeans in his mouth before taking off for the stage

“Holy shit.”

“And now the star and director (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)!”

If you had the option to stay in the shadows to let your brain catch up you would, but now your focus wasn’t on the people or the movie, it was on Chris and the massive trip he was going to have once the edibles kicked in.

“Shit shit shit.” you muttered to yourself as you hurried up the stairs to the stage

You were given the seat next to Chris, who was still cogent and alert for the time being. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t really take your eyes off him for more than minute, and you almost got away with it, until Chris pointed it out.

“You’re staring.” he whispered away from the mic, his head lolled to the side a bit and his eyes getting red

“Chris, I gotta tell you something.” you started

“Right (Y/N)?” Seb pulled you and Chris back into the conversation

“Come again?”

“I saying how well we all worked together on the set.”

“Oh yeah, like huge family. It was amazing to work with-” you stopped when you felt a finger flick your ear, you looked to Chris, all smiles and intently focused on your earlobe “Amazing to work with these guys, they really bring a-” he tugged on your ear again “playful essence to the set.”

“You okay there Chris?” the MC asked him

“Your earlobe is so soft.” Chris half whispers to you, ignoring the question completely “Earlo-oo-be.”

Oh shit.

“Chris?”

“Hm? Yes a question.” he grinned “And the answer.... never violence.”

“You okay dude?” Anthony asked him this time

“I’m feeling great.” Chris nods slowly before leaning over you and Sebastian to hold Anthony’s hand “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“What’s wrong with Chris?” Sebastian whispers in your ear

“You know how bad his anxiety gets.” you tried to brush it off “I got it covered- hopefully.”

Chris throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “This woman right here is the best person I’ve met, sorry mom, she’s- just- awesome.”

You pat him on the arm and try to steer the conversation back on the right tracks. Chris’s hand lazily ran back and forth on your arm, sending chills through your body. If you didn’t like it so much you would’ve told him to stop, plus it was keeping him focused for the time being. And for the following ten minutes he was calm, switching between picking the lint off your dress, to rubbing his face, things you could play off as normal things.... and then it went south.

In the middle of Anthony answering a question, you heard a strange wet sound over the speaker, glancing back at Chris you saw him licking the side of his microphone.

“Chris, stop that.” you pulled his hand away from his face, he quickly switched it to his other hand and continued to lick the mic “Don’t lick it.”

He chuckled giving you an overly obvious wink “Can I lick you instead?”

Your cheeks are flaming now, and the heat shot straight down to your core. A collective ‘ooh’ came from the audience, Sebastian, Anthony and the MC all froze mid topic.

“Laying on the charm pretty thick there Chris?” Sebastian said, in hopes to lighten the situation up

“I mean at least take her out on a date first, Evans.” Anthony laughed

Chris pulled you even closer into his side, lowering his lips to your ear, in attempts to whisper “I wanna kiss you right now, and raise a puppy together.”

“Did you say something Chris?” Sebastian glanced over to him

“Nope, he didn’t say anything.” you pushed the mic away from Chris’s face, he reached over and grabbed yours

“Show of hands who has a dog?” he pointed out to the audience, and about half the members raised their hands “I wanna pet them.”

“The dogs or the people?” Anthony questioned

“Yes.” Chris pressed the mic to his mouth again “All the dogs.”

There was scattered applause from the audience, Chris laughed to himself then relaxed further into the couch, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, we’re gonna do fan questions right now.” The MC gave Chris a strange look

“It’s really hot right now. Is anyone else hot?”

A series of questionable mutters came from the crowd, Anthony and Sebastian gave you confused head tilts as Chris stood up, hands going to the top of his shirt, undoing buttons. Many, if not all the females in the room, started to cheer, chanting ‘take it off’, you hopped up in time for him to only get half done with his shirt.

“Chris, keep your shirt on.” you hissed pulling it closed

“But it’s hot.” he pressed his forehead to yours, resting his hands on your hips “You’re hot, let’s get a dog.”

“You have a dog.”

He gasped, those normal baby blue eyes were bloodshot red, his pupils completely dilated “I do? Is he here?”

“Yeah, let’s go see him.” you slung his arm back over your shoulder, then brought the mic up to your lips “Give us a moment, a few technical issues.”

Chris took the mic from you again “We’re gonna get a dog together!” he dropped the mic, leaning on you for support “Goodnight Boston.”

“We’re in Sarasota, let’s go see Dodger.”

You managed to get Chris back behind the curtains, helping him down those five steps would’ve been difficult, if he hadn’t jumped down them himself. You quickly followed behind him as he touched everything, muttering ‘Why Should I Worry’ along the way. When you caught up to him, you yanked him back in the dressing room, shutting the door behind the two of you.“There’s no dog in here.” he pouts

“Chris, listen to me.” you turned him around to face you “You have got to calm down and focus. Those jelly beans you ate- were edibles.”

“Well yeah, I couldn’t eat ‘em if they weren’t edible.” he laughed loudly and threw his head back

“No, I mean they’re laced with medical marijuana. The label says you’re only supposed to eat five maximum, and you ate a fucking handful of them. You’re higher than Spudnik right now.”

Chris finally caught his breath, nervously looking around the room. He started to scratch at his skin, his breathing getting heavier.

“Holy fuck, what the actual fuck?” he muttered to himself

“Calm down, you’re gonna be fine.” you steered him to the couch, he grabbed the nearest pillow and held on to it for dear life

“I can feel my blood flowing in my body, is that normal? Why are these lights so- big. No not big, what’s the other word? Holy shit I’m freaking out right now.”

“Are you okay?” your rubbed his arms “Just breathe.”

“Bright, the lights are bright.” he nods leaning back into the couch, his shirt falling open “It’s still hot.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

“No.” Chris pulled you in by your wrists “I haven’t a trip this bad in years, feels like yesterday. Why is time going so fast? Am I gonna die?”

"No, you’re gonna be fine.” you moved to sit on the couch next to Chris but he pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him.

His hands were secured around your waist, and he laid his head on your shoulder. The only thing keeping you from full body on body contact was the pillow between you. But you could still feel his heartbeat slowing to its steady rhythm.

“Uh- you sure you’re okay?”

He nods again “How long does this last?”

“A few hours, but if you’re anything like me you’ll be asleep right after you eat.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” he sighed “Did I say okay already?”

“Mhmm, but it’s fine.”

“You smell nice, you always smell nice.” he moved to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his lips lightly trailing across the your exposed skin. It sends shivers down your spine that settles between your legs

“Chris-” Your fingers ran through the short hair at the back of Chris’s head, his body started to relax a little, leaning into your hand and groaning softly. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, I like this, more than you know.” he paused “I want fried eggs... and a shitload of bacon.”

You chuckled, pulling your phone from your pocket when it starts to buzzing like crazy “Sure, we’ll get something to eat after the hall clears out a bit.”

“Do you think anyone out there noticed?”

“Uh-” you scrolled through your timeline, cramped with headlines about you and Chris being in a not so secret relationship. Others hitting the mark, stating that Chris was in fact high. But over 25.7k people were rooting for the relationship rumors to be true

“Maybe a few people.”

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #Knives Out #jellybeans #100 days of productivity #marvel #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson x reader #tony stark #spiderman #point blank #comiccon #lady thor #valkyrie #CEvans #Avengers #Excelsior

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lallemcnt · 5 years

Text

go ahead and watch my heart burn (part four)

“When you look at him you see dark night opening, giving way to dawn.”

— Ibn Said al-Maghribi

“Talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t have to reassure me all the fucking time! I’m so sick of my brain and how messed up I am!”

“You’re not messed up, Lucas.”

Lucas is perched on the arm of Eliott’s sofa, head bowed and arms shielding his body. Eliott sits on the edge of the sofa at its other end, the exasperated expression on his face mirroring Lucas’ voice. The distance between them, a sofa separating them, feels like miles upon miles, an impossible space to close. Lucas understands his frustration, he even feels sorry for him, sorry that he has to deal with Lucas when he gets like this: frustrated and insecure, when Eliott hasn’t done anything to incite these feelings, when he has been nothing but understanding, nothing but absolutely caring, nothing but a flame in the dark on the days when Lucas’ anxiety has been particularly debilitating.

He knew this was going to happen, that he would mess it up, he just didn’t know he would only have a month of being with Eliott before it all blew up in his face. Abruptly, the frustration drains from him and he is tired. He moves towards the door, stuffing his feet in his trainers and pulling on his jacket. Eliott gets to his feet, following Lucas to the door, asking in a beseeching voice, “You can’t just leave, we need to talk.”

Lucas doesn’t turn around to address him, simply opens the front door and lets out a quiet: “Let me go” before shutting the door behind him and trudging down the stairs into a chilly late summer day. His shoulders instantly hunch up and he’s blowing hot air into his hands for warmth, not sure where he’s going exactly. Going, he scoffs to himself, more like running, like the coward you are. But the knowledge of his cowardice is not enough to make him go back to Eliott and explain.

Lucas recalls a conversation they had a few days after he told Eliott about his father. When Eliott asked Lucas about his anxiety and how it affected him. He didn’t push Lucas to speak about it or set up some kind of intervention. They had been watching reruns of shitty TV at Eliott’s, as usual, eating popcorn and drinking some kind of nasty-ass beer Lucas has brought over when Eliott had asked him:

“I- Can I ask you questions about your anxiety? I’ve been reading up on it and I know I’ll need to do more, but would you…would you mind that? Because I know it is different for everyone.” His voice was tentative, his hands clenched around his beer bottle as if he was scared he had crossed an unspoken line, entering into unknown territory.

It was completely out of the blue. Lucas wondered if this had been on Eliott’s mind the entire evening, he, himself, felt slightly uncomfortable and nervous, because talking about it never ended well, it only ever crushed his mood, his soul, leaving him disappointed. However, he knew, in his heart, that if this thing between them had any chance of survival Eliott had the prerogative to know, to decide for himself if Lucas was worth all the work, and to make this decision he needed all the facts.

Turning down the volume on the TV, Lucas had shifted to face Eliott, because he could be strong. Hadn’t all his years of quiet survival proven that? He could look Eliott in the eye when he inevitably concluded that it was all too much. That Lucas was not worth it.

“You need to understand that you can’t fix me, okay? I’m always going to be dealing with this and I want you to know that I won’t blame you or hate you if you decide to leave, okay? It is a lot. I know,” Pausing for breath, Lucas had taken a swig of his drink before continuing. “Sometimes I’ll get irritable for no reason, at myself and at you. I’ll be snippy. I won’t want to talk to you. When we’ve planned to go to a party or out for dinner, when the day comes round the thought of going may make me feel physically sick and I won’t want to go because I’m terrified of meeting new people or being left alone at a party with nothing to do or no one to talk to. Sometimes I’ll put off doing things and stay home for days because the idea is a lot more peaceful, comfortable and safe than going out.

“And you have to know, it won’t be your fault. I just need space sometimes. There’s something else, too. It’s hard to explain why…there are times when I think it’s because of my father, but I can be touch averse too, casual touches will annoy me and turn my mood sour. I used to be this really affectionate kid, and I still crave touch, but I also hate it at times.”

Eliott nodded thoughtfully along as Lucas spoke; being given the opportunity to explain how he feels and be heard was everything. Everything and more. More than he ever imagined he would be lucky enough to experience.

He doesn’t even know how this afternoon’s argument got heated so quickly, but when he reaches that level of frustration he can’t be talked down, no placating words can calm him, and Eliott contradicting him, telling him he wasn’t messed up made him more angry, and Lucas also knew that while his head was telling him to yell and slam the door and tell Eliott that he will never understand, that he doesn’t get it, that this will never work between them, his heart was whispering for him to get out of there, to cool off, before he said something he would regret.

He knew why Eliott was frustrated, Lucas had been closed off for the past week, refusing to confide in Eliott who had asked him several times what was going on. He was clueless, unsure if he was the problem. Lucas could have easily reassured him that it wasn’t him, but he was feeling mean and bitter. Communication. The age-old issue that tore couples apart on the daily. He knew Eliott would be struggling to understand if the issue was anxiety-related or if Lucas was just being an asshole, which he was want to be every now and then, but that only made Lucas more irate.

Walking along the Seine, Lucas kicks out at a rock and then another, physically exercising his annoyance. The thing was, deep down is wasn’t just anger he felt, it was fear and shock and insurmountable shame, and even the thought of explaining this to Eliott- it is enough to make him sink down on a bench in fatigue, because hasn’t he told enough secrets for once? Hasn’t even opened himself up to pain over and over again these last few weeks? So, seeing what Lucas saw in conjunction with someone else being worried about you and constantly asking if you are okay when you most definitely are not is too much. To be worrying about someone else’s feelings when you are consumed by your own mounting despair is enough emotional grievance to knock you out for a lifetime.

Today at 13:15

Le gang

yann: my dudes who’s up for a night of gaming at mine? bazzz: HELL YES I’M IN arthur: idk i’ve got this huge essay to get done by tomorrow arthur: and i haven’t started yet bazzz: yikes arthur: lucas!!!!!! have u done it yet?? bazzz: come on we haven’t hung out in ages bazzz: are you’ll really choosing work over spending time with ME?! yann: i have bEER arthur: bold of you to assume i’d bunk of uni work for beer bazzz: we’ve got arthur! yann: lulu! where u at? arthur: lulu! bazzz: lulu!

Lucas clicks off the chat, puts it on silent and pulls up Manon’s.

Today at 13:27

Manon

lucas: hey u around? Manon: hey!! Manon: yeah i am Manon: what are you thinking? lucas: ummm wanna go for a walk? Manon: i’d love to

After deciding where to meet, Lucas begins to stroll across one of the many bridges that cross the river. In an attempt to clear his mind of Eliott and their argument, he marvels at the beauty of his city, at all the history that these old and ornate buildings must contain; the grey water washing by them, dividing banks and creating islands. He walks by children already wrapped up in coats and hats but licking away at vanilla ice-creams. There are two men in suits locked in a heated exchange, jaws tight and eyes narrowed. A couple up ahead leans against the side of the bridge, entangled in each other’s arms, blonde hair whipping against their faces: Lucas looks away quickly at the surge in his chest. And just beyond them, he spots a red pea-coat: Manon. Dressed in woolly tights, her brown hair tied in a loose braid, she clutches a paperback book in one hand, her elbows rest on the off-white arm of the bridge, discoloured by the grim of urban life.

When they meet, Lucas falls into her outstretched arms as though this place, here, is a refuge amidst a storming sea. He doesn’t cry, but he remains there for a while. If Lucas had to describe Manon he would wax poetic about her. She’s closer to a sister to him than a friend, but then who ever said a person couldn’t be both to you?

Drawing away from each other, they smile and return to look over the bridge where Manon rests her book. Lucas observes the cover and the authors name as recognition hits and he’s turning back to Manon, incredulously, as he exclaims, “No way! What the hell? Is that the last book?”

Manon is grinning and holding it up to Lucas’ face. “Yep! Had to pre-order it and everything. Just went to pick it up from the shop, actually.”

“I can’t believe it. We waited, what, five years for it and now it’s actually here? Fuck.”

When they were twelve, there was this fantasy book series everyone was reading about magicians and vampires, empires falling and rising, quests for lost artefacts and stolen celestial swords. Suffice it to say, Lucas and Manon were obsessed; they would queue up outside the bookstore for midnight releases with Manon’s older brother and parents, they would have reading parties together on weekends, but it was also one of those series where the last book kept getting pushed back until it’s release seemed a fallacy, but after seven years, the final book was out.

Lucas grabbed the book proffered to him and scanned the cover and back, flipping the book open like a fan. The smell of newly printed pages ready to be devoured and loved was an inexplicable bliss. He placed it in reach of Manon whose back was against the bridge’s sides and face directed towards Lucas, her blue gaze is searching. He pretends to be interested in the boats disappearing beneath him, but he’s forgotten Manon can out-wait him, she has the patience of a saint. What’s more is she has always thought of Lucas as a younger brother despite their birthdays only between two weeks apart — one week, six days, two hours and 19 minutes exactly if you ask Lucas — making her infinitely more willing to spend minutes, hours in silence until he is ready to open up or can’t stand the silence so he fills it meaningless words which eventually unwinds into the deeper stuff, because Manon makes the time to be there for everyone she holds dear. Lucas is one of those lucky people, he knows that.

In this way, while the wind insists on dispelling summer in favour of autumn, as Manon waits out Lucas and the sky grows grey in alliance with the wind and the Seine leads its placid journey, winding around the city, Lucas voices what has got him all twisted up inside for the past week, the catalyst for this argument with Eliott.

“I think I saw my father last week. At uni.”

This shocks Manon. Although he isn’t directly looking at here, out of the corner of his eye he sees her blanch at his words, she turns around, standing beside him as though in solidarity, as if she would be able to protect him from what has already happened. His heart clenches at this.

“How are you feeling?” She asks.

Bringing his hand up to chew his thumb nail, Lucas shrugs, which is ridiculous because he knows how he feels, he’s been sinking in this tumult of negativity for seven fucking days.

“You know what I wanted to do? I wanted to go up to him. I wanted to look him dead in the eyes and see if he would even recognise me, to ask him how he could do what he did and claim it was love? How you can do that to someone you’re supposed to love unconditionally? What did I do exactly to make him hate me so much? What did I do? I want to know so I never do it again, so I don’t provoke that kind of behaviour-”

“Listen to me, Lucas. No,” Manon is shaking her head and holding Lucas own between her hands so he is forced to look at her while she speaks. “You did not provoke anything, you hear me? I can’t explain to you why he did what he did to you, why he hurt you. But I do know one thing for certain, and I know you’re tired of hearing me say it but I will say it forever if I have to, this is all on him, nothing you did was wrong. It was all him. All him.”

Biting down on his lip, blinks back tears. “I don’t even know why he was there, and I didn’t want it to become this big thing but Eliott caught on to my mood, I mean, how could he not? And I didn’t feel like talking about it, not after telling him about my father, my anxiety. It would’ve just been overboard for him, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Lucas, he’s there, right? Wanting to be with you. In relationships there are times where you don’t want to say how you feel and you don’t want to express the messy shit, but Lucas, if this is going on for an extended period of time you have got to let him in. It’s unfair otherwise. You’re part of a team now.”

Lucas sighs.

“Unless he’s been an asshole and said something-”

“No! He hasn’t-”

“-because then I’ll be having words with him.”

That brings a smile to Lucas’ lips. Hearing Manon threaten someone — even thinking it sounds ridiculous in his head — is always a shock because she’s Manon, always flocking to make sure everyone is okay, wearing their coats when it’s cold, ensuring everyone has a ride home after a night out.

“No, he’s great. I’m the asshole, but what’s new, right?”

Throwing an arm around Lucas’ shoulder, easily done because they’re the same height, Manon frowns. “Just talk to him, my love. For him, for your relationship, but, most importantly, for yourself. Now, say this together with me ‘I am not an asshole’.”

Lucas rolls his eyes but Manon is serious. She begins to open her mouth and when Lucas makes no effort to join her she stops and glares, full force, at him until he obliges with another sigh.

“I am not an asshole.”

“And again.”

“I. Am. Not. An. Asshole.”

“Whoop! That is so true, Lucas. You aren’t. Alright, let’s hobble along somewhere, it’s kinda chilly out here. I think my toes are about to stop working.”

“Okay, okay.”

Linking arms, the two friends find a coffee shop to sit at, a feat on days such as this when everyone is seeking the warmth of the inside, clutching warm mugs of hot chocolate between their hands they speak of lighter things, less serious but just as important.

By the time eight o’clock rolls around, Lucas is feeling hopelessly guilty about leaving Eliott’s place that afternoon. Manon’s words play on his mind: You have got to let him in. It’s unfair otherwise. You’re part of a team now. But because he’s the king of avoidance, Lucas has agreed to go to Yann’s for a gaming night and he’s rationalised to himself that that is okay, because he hasn’t seen the boys in a while and he misses them and Eliott is probably off hanging out with Idriss and Sofiane, so he’s okay and they can speak tomorrow. It can all be sorted out tomorrow.

On his way over to Yann’s, he begins typing an apologetic text to Eliott, it screams pathetic and cheap, everything he should say in person. Cursing in frustration, Lucas deletes it all, at least he tries to and he does erase most of it but his thumb slips onto the send button in his frustration.

Today 20:04

eliott

lucas: i’m

FUCK.

He shoves his phone into the front pocket of his grey hoodie, and of course this happened, he really can’t catch a break can he?

He gets no response. Radio silence. Hopefully hanging with le gang will be distraction enough.

For the first hour Lucas is caught up in the fervor of his friends’ excitement about a new season of a TV show about a family gang in Birmingham, England on netflix. They settle on Yann’s sofa, pulling up beanbags and lazy-boys to rest their feet on; despite their apparent enthusiasm they talk through the entirety of the first episode, making poor imitations of the Birmingham accent, Baz laments about how attractive the leading male is and Lucas can’t do anything but agree.

As the night goes by, however, Lucas becomes restless, he plays one game with Yann and then a team game with Arthur and Basile. He drinks flat coca-cola and chooses the music they listen to, but there, in the background of everything is Eliott’s face when Lucas left. When he is choosing the next song to play he thinks back to the many nights when they would talk on the phone before bed and Eliott would play Lucas the piano music he had grown to love, sometimes falling asleep to it, lulled by tender notes and impossibly smooth melodies. He should be there. With Eliott.

So he leaves, apologising profusely, promising to meet them at lunch on Monday, his mouth agreeing to anything while his one-track mind retains its steady focus on one boy. He is running in the dark, the sky jet-black where weeks ago the sunset was only beginning be set. Impossibly, a few stars peak through the light-pollution endemic to most cities and the moon is there, coaxing him on his way, as if to say hurry hurry you’re almost there. Out of breath and surely sweating Lucas does not stop. He doesn’t text Eliott; he will wait outside his place until he comes home, he will wait forever if that is what it takes.

Lucas is anxious now. He presses the buzzer for Eliott’s door, hoping against hope that he will be forgiven for walking out.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Lucas.”

Silence.

Lucas is there on the steps, panting from his run, his heart galloping in his chest for more than one reason he can count. It feels like an eternity before he hears the tell-tale sound of the front door buzzing and he’s pushing it open, climbing up the stairs to Eliott’s door. It is down the end of the corridor, the last one on his floor, and Eliott is there, in the doorway, watching Lucas as he walks towards him and it is agony: he can feel the guilt’s full force curling in his stomach. Lucas is suddenly self-conscious, he wants the floor to swallow him up. His steps are hesitant. He stops a few feet away from Eliott. Wanting to hug him.

“Can I come in?” His words are stilted, coated in uncertainty.

“Why are you here?” Eliott looks tired.

“I want to talk.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t budge a single inch.

Looks like Lucas is going to have to do this here. In the hallway. Where any number of people can just walk by. At least Eliott hasn’t shut the door in his face.

“I’m sorry. For shutting you out, refusing to talk to you. For being mean,” At this, Eliott’s composure starts to falter, Lucas understands then that his annoyed posture was all an act, possibly an attempt to guard himself from hurt, and that nicks at his heart a little. “For walking out earlier, I should have stayed. I’m just really sick of feeling vulnerable all the time, I feel like I can’t catch a break and then I take it out on you by being cold.

“I saw my father last week, unintentionally, he was at uni and it’s the first time since he left that I’ve laid eyes on him. It brought back all the shame and humiliation. I wanted to walk up to him, like I’ve imagined doing multiple times over the years and confronting him, but all I could do was run the other way. I hate that this man still has this power over me. Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is that I hurt you-”

Eliott is stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Lucas, pulling him into his apartment and holding him against the door.

“Please don’t be mad.” Lucas’ voice comes out muffled against Eliott’s chest.

“I’m not mad. The truth is I’d rather be annoyed by you than not have you at all. I want to know when you’re in pain and why. And you were, I could see it and it hurt to know you were fighting something on your own. I am so sorry, Lucas.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Remember what I told you, yeah? You are not alone.”

Lucas’ heart clenches at those words. How does Eliott think of and say things like that, so sincere like it is effortless, like it costs him nothing but the air he breathes to say them.

He pulls back from Eliott, head tilted up against the door. “You need to stop that.”

“Stop what?” Eliott cups Lucas’ face

“Saying those romantic things.”

“And you need to know that you have nothing,” He says fiercely. “To be ashamed about. You are not what happened to you. You are magnificent, and I can’t believe how lucky I am that you choose to be with me.”

“I love you.” The words slip out, Lucas widens his eyes and Eliott is laughing at Lucas’ brazenness. Simultaneously, his eyes shift and brighten, as if Lucas’ confession has changed the very colour of Eliott’s eyes, as if those three words have changed him.

A kiss, soft and tender. ”Not as much as I love you.”

Another kiss just as tender and slow, torturously slow. “Yeah, yeah. Now carry me to your bed, please.”

They stumble there, stripping off their clothes as much as they can while kissing and touching each other. As soon as Lucas hits Eliott’s bed though he is enraptured by the softness of his duvet and pillow and he sighs contentedly.

Eliott looks up from where he was kissing down Lucas’ chest and lets out a disbelievingly laugh when he sees Lucas snuggling into his pillows. He crawls up Lucas’ body until he is caging him in and looking directly down at him. Eliott, straddling Lucas’ hips now, plants a hard, searing kiss on his lips which Lucas is all too happy to reciprocate, clutching Eliott at the hips.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you.” Lucas winks.

Eliott rolls over, laying his head on Lucas’ chest. “You’re tired.”

“Yeah…Your bed…Morning sex, instead?”

“Sure.”

From his position on Lucas’ chest, Eliott caresses Lucas’ lower stomach, running his fingers lightly over the skin, raising goose bumps in their wake.

Je t’aime.

Moi aussi.

#elu fic #elu #skam france #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #mine #go ahead and watch my heart burn

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dualwieldingrollingpins · 5 years

Text

I haven’t written fic in years, but mp100 and its fandom have inspired me to pick it back up. This was inspired by a post by @mikuhats and I hope you all enjoy!!

——————————————————————————

Looking back, Shou realizes he only had himself to blame, but he couldn’t have expected the outcome of his actions. Not in a million years.

He was, after all, the one who had broken the silence and occasional clicking of buttons. It was too quiet, and although he knew Ritsu valued the peacefulness if he didn’t speak he was probably going to explode.

“Hey Ritsu, I got a proposition for ya.”

The boy in question kept his eyes on screen, the only hint that he had even heard the redhead was the small hum of acknowledgement he made.

“Five races in Mario Kart. Whoever wins gets to draw whatever they want on the loser’s face.”

Not his best plan, but the thought of drawing something hilarious (and probably inappropriate) on the Golden Boy of Salt Middle School amused him more than he cared to admit. He practically vibrated in his spot on the floor, though this wasn’t out of the ordinary considering he could barely sit still in the first place.

However, he clearly wasn’t the only one scheming, as the illuminated screen let him see the corner of Ritsu’s mouth turn up ever so slightly.

“You’re on.”

They choose their characters (Shou chooses Toad, Ritsu picks Luigi) and their karts (something both boys are very serious about, maximizing their potential to work with their characters’ strengths). Shou grins, hunching forward towards the television. He’s ready to kick Ritsu’s ass and have bragging rights for at least the next week, as well as maybe have a photo for him to snicker at whenever he needed it.

Then the races start, and Ritsu annihilates him. Absolutely destroys him. With every green shell that hits Shou at the worst moment, every boost that Ritsu somehow manages to get perfectly, and every time the redhead’s kart flies off the track, Shou’s dreams of embarrassing Ritsu with his epic racing skills fly further and further away from him. He’s astonished really, Mario Kart is HIS game, and while he’s struggling Ritsu still has that calm smirk that Shou can’t wipe off his face despite all his efforts.

At the end, his pride is so battered that he almost forgets his fate, until Ritsu grins triumphantly and turns toward him.

“Alright,” he turns off the game, leaving the home screen as the only light in the room. “Where’s my marker?”

Shit shit shit shit shit and He’s going to draw a dick or something like that and I’m gonna look like an idiot were the two most prominent alarm bells clanging in his head. But he’s not gonna back out, he’s no coward and he’ll take his punishment like a man.

Ritsu stood, silently walking towards his desk as to not wake his parents. Rifling through his drawers, he picks up a brown marker, not as noticeable as black would be, but good enough.

He knelt back down in front of his friend, marker uncapped, twirling it between his fingers.

“What are you gonna draw?”

Ritsu rolled his eyes, flicking Shou on the forehead. “Like I’d tell you. Now close your eyes.”

Although this was normally when Shou would make a snarky comment or a half-hearted protest, this time he did it without hesitation. Bright blue eyes closed, leaving Ritsu free reign to unleash whatever chaos his artistic side was feeling that moment, which was truthfully nothing. He had no clue what he wanted to draw on Shou’s face, because he wasn’t going to do something basic like draw dicks, there was way too much potential to waste it on something like that.

He inspected his canvas, trying to gain some idea of what to do. Then he spotted them. Shou’s freckles.

The young boy has always been fascinated by them, if he was honest. Shou’s heritage made him look completely different than most people in Seasoning City, a physical representation of his out-of-the-box and fiery personality.

He was struck with an idea, and while it wasn’t anything embarrassing or funny, he was gonna have a good time doing it. Leaning in and ignoring the flip flop of his stomach, he pressed the tip of the marker to a freckle on Shou’s left cheek, connecting it to others around, even some on the side of his nose.

Normally, Shou’s mind was running at around 60 miles an hour, chasing and capturing thoughts while some slipped through his fingertips like sand. This time though, it was moving double time, speeding and racing, revolving around one thing.

Ritsu was so close. He can practically feel the boy’s breath on his face. It’s the only thing he could think about, and his mind took the possibilities and made them into a one hundred meter sprint.

He couldn’t stand it, the outside world was so quiet while his mind was buzzing and panicky and loud-

His thoughts, once floating and soaring, plummeted to the ground from the gravity of a hand on his cheek. His eyes snapped open.

“Dude wha-“

“I couldn’t control the marker calm down,” Ritsu deadpanned, oblivious to the other’s crisis due to trying to mask his own. “Now close your eyes, you staring at me while I’m drawing is weird as hell.”

Shou nodded dumbly, for the first time in his life he was completely speechless. His face was rapidly heating to levels he had only felt when his curiosity had led him to touching a candle’s flame when he was young. His heart was thumping so loudly that he was positive Ritsu could hear it and his mind was screaming and Ritsu’s hand was so warm.

He tried to focus on anything other than that stupid hand. The coolness of the floor underneath him, the hushed ticking of the clock in the hallway, the reminder that it’s 1:53 in the morning and he’s never felt more awake in his life, the pins and needles feeling in his legs from kneeling for so long. But nothing worked, because as soon as Ritsu did anything his thoughts focused on him like a moth to light.

Ritsu had moved on from his friend’s cheeks to his nose to just idly doodling on forehead, though his points of reference were quickly disappearing due to Shou’s face and hair becoming the same color. But it didn’t matter, he was almost done, and he didn’t know why that thought disappointed him. As he finished the final line, he tilted his work from side to side, inspecting his art.

It was cute. He’s cute, his inner voice corrected.

“Okay, I’m done.” It came out a whisper, as if he was too nervous to be any louder.

One eye cracked open, then another, and as soon as he saw blue, his breath trapped itself in his throat. Because he realized how close he truly was, inches away from the other’s face, and his cheeks began to burn.

For a moment, neither spoke or move, daring the other to do something. The challenge hung in the air, mingling with the nervousness and excitement that had been there previously.

As if bored of their game, the earth decided to continue its rotation. The clock sounded. It was 2 am, and the trance was broken.

Both boys backed away from each other. The tension was palpable.

“So, uh,” Shou started, very interested in his socked feet. “I guess I need to see what you drew. Hopefully something funny or cool, like a creeper.”

He chuckled in an attempt to dispel some of the awkwardness that permeated the room, and he silently thanked Ritsu for playing along.

“Yeah. It’s nothing crazy but it’s better than dicks.” The black haired boy shrugged, trying to maintain his calm facade when really his stomach was turning cartwheels.

Shou headed towards the bathroom, with Ritsu a few steps behind, making sure to avoid waking anyone up.

As soon as he flicked the light switch, the brightness smacked him in the face with an unforgiving relentlessness, and he groaned. He took a moment, blinking rapidly in order for his eyes to readjust to the stark change.

Once he could finally stand to open his eyes, he took in his reflection. There were no dicks, no creepers, and no words. He leaned in closer, inspecting.

His freckles were connected by brown lines to form various little shapes. Constellations. The Big Dipper on his left cheek, the Little beyond that, going up the side of his nose. Cancer dipped from his forehead to a spot above his eyebrow, and Sagittarius stretched from his right cheek to his ear to above his lip. So many constellations littered his skin, and the spaces not connected by brown were covered with planets, as if Ritsu was determined to leave no part of his face untouched. He was transformed into a miniature universe with something as simple as a marker.

He pulled and tugged at his skin, obsessively checking so he doesn’t miss a single drawing Ritsu had made. Ritsu observed him from the door frame, bouncing from one leg to another and twiddling his thumbs to suppress his nerves.

Ritsu waited. And waited. The seconds seemed to pass like molasses, idly dripping with no intent on gaining speed. Finally, it was too much. He coughed awkwardly, which brought the redhead back to earth.

“What do you think?” His voice cracked on the last word, buzzing with anxiousness.

The redhead looked at him through the mirror, grinning, cheeks a pretty shade of rosy pink.

“‘S cute Ritsu. Didn’t realize my freckles were such an inspiration.” His teasing was lighthearted, poking his cheek.

Ritsu scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well I figured it would be more fun than just writing ‘Fornite sucks’ or something like that.” His aloof attitude was betrayed by his refusal to look Shou in the eye and a blush that was overtaking his face and ears.

A laugh rang out, genuine and pure and happy. Shou was grasping the counter, shoulders shaking. It was contagious, and just like a lot of his actions, his best friend couldn’t resist joining him.

There they stood until their laughs turned to giggles and faded away. Their faces were alight, having laughed more in that moment than either have in a long time.

“We should probably go to bed. It’s late,” Ritsu pointed out. Shou nodded, turning back to his reflection, looking at his galaxy.

“I wanna take a picture of it. It’s really cool,” Shou reached into his pocket, gesturing for Ritsu to get closer.

Opening up his camera, the two grinned for a picture, their cheeks pressed together and Ritsu’s right hand brought up in a peace sign, with Shou’s arm thrown around his shouldner. After taking a few, Shou seemed satisfied, lowering his phone and inspecting the pictures.

Ritsu saw this as a cue to start walking back to his room, reaching to open the bathroom door.

“Wait!” Shou grabbed his sleeve, stopping him. They both looked down his grip, Shou dropping his hand quickly and muttering an apology.

“I want to take another picture. None of them turned out quite right,” his voice was uncharacteristically small, and he was stumbling over his words.

Ritsu raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of mood, but obliged. They returned to their previous pose, Shou opening his phone camera once more.

Shou gulped, mentally preparing himself for what he was going to do next. As he continued taking photos, he stood on his tiptoes (Ritsu still had a good two inches on him, a fact he never lets Shou forget) and pressed his lips to his friend’s cheek. He felt the other boy stiffen, and he quickly pulled away.

“Thanks for the pictures Ritsu I’m gonna go to bed now sorry if I made things weird just don’t mention it haha,” Shou made a quick exit, willing himself not to kick a wall or scream because he was positive he had messed it up and his first real friend had fallen through.

A calloused hand grabbed his own, and now the tables had turned. He stared down at their clasped hands, then back up at Ritsu, and the fact that Ritsu had yet to speak was killing him inside.

Ritsu silently inched closer, not taking his eyes off Shou, clearly focused.

“Dude please don’t beat me up I’m sorry,” Shou stammered, his eyes squeezed shut.

He was prepared for anything really: yelling, shoving, silent animosity, and he was suddenly reminded of his time at Claw in the worst way possible. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the soft pressure on his forehead.

For the second time that night, his eyes shot open to stare at the esper. He was in complete disbelief.

“If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve asked,” Ritsu muttered, embarrassed but still sporting a small smile.

The redhead’s jaw opened and closed, trying to form words but only succeeding in staring. He simply nodded, as his vocal cords were obviously betraying him.

“Let’s go to bed. I’m tired,” Ritsu yawned, tugging their intertwined hands and leading them down the hall. And through his embarrassment and happiness, Shou realized that, as corny as it sounded, their fingers slotted together perfectly.

As they climbed into Ritsu’s bed on opposite sides, allowing sleep to wash over them, Shou realized that this all stemmed from his stupid challenge. He reached up, idly tracing the stars that dotted his face.

Something had changed between the two of them, something they could talk about when the sun was shining. But for right now, each other’s company was enough.

And if they woke up with their fingers intertwined and their bodies much closer than before, they didn’t have to mention it.

#mp100 #ritshou #shouritsu #mp100 ritsu #mp100 shou #mob psycho 100 #two awkward boys with awkward crushes

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fordarkisthesuede · 7 years

Text

JOURNAL 3 BLACKLIGHT EDITION REVEALED! (Part 3)

Oh boy. This is it. The final stretch.

A New Concern: “What if he wins? It is a thought to horrible to imagine, but imagine it I must. If Bill succeeds in opening the gateway between worlds, it will result in an… Odd-pocalypse? Weird-mergency? Unsual-tastrophe? No matter. If the big day arrives, coming up with a catchy nickname for it will be the least of my worries. To prepare for this worst-case scenario, I have begun stocking my old research bunker with supplies, rations, and weapons. I also tried to choose which theoretical physics books would be most fun to spend 50 years rereading, but they’re all so great I couldn’t decide!” [Picture of the Unseen Eye with the caption “Saw this symbol again recently!”]

Hiding Spot? page: “In case of catastrophe.” [The tree leading down the bunker is shown, with a staircase winding around it to the roots, with “danger!” pointing down, ending in a rectangle with “prepare for the end” inside.] “LAST RESORT – hopefully cryonics have sustained. Watch out for Shifty.”

Page left of Security Room: “I need to stop spending time down in this bunker. I was reprogramming my security code when I could have sworn I heard someone speaking to me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I suppose I was voted “most paranoid” in junior high, bt I thought I had gotten over that phase. Then again, maybe that’s what people wanted me to think: that I wasn’t paranoid anymore so they could start plotting against me, plotting to take my precious thoughts, my MIND-thoughts! Okay, I’ve been inhaling bunker coolant for too long. Going up for some air now.”

Security Room page: [it now says “Security Code” and has the four buttons to open the bunker highlighted and numbered.] “If I forget this, I’ll be taking a trip to the FIRST dimension!” [There’s a picture of an exit door with “don’t forget!” pointing at it.]

Bill’s Teacup page: This one’s unusual. “One of Bill’s friends… Where have I seen him?” The face is so normal that I can’t really say who it could be. Seems masculine? I mean, my best guess is Alex, but who knows for certain…?

[Edit, 4/26/18: I kept forgetting to fix this bit, but this is a reference to the “Have You Ever Dreamed of This Man?” hoax! Thanks to everybody that pointed it out! (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) ]

The machine pages: “The machine was meant to create knowledge but it is TOO POWERFUL! The device if fully operational could”

My Muse Was A Monster page: All the eyes drawn here glow in the dark. It looks just as creepy as you’d imagine – especially the big one. It also says “Laseep” “ELPH EM” “sit lal vero” and “rutts on eno”. This is just normal English with rearranged letters, so it says “Asleep”* “Please” “HELP ME” “its all over” and “trust no one”.

*in my defense, I was sleepy when I first unscrambled the words, and I peeked at that “Can’t Sleep!” page...guess I knew what was on my mind that night :/

Bill Cipher pages: Spanning both pages: “If he gains physical form then all is lost!” Left page - “If he entered our dimension, what form would he take? Flesh and blood? Metal? Vinyl? Spandex? Would he be a suave, well-dressed, possibly British man in coattails? Absolutely unequivocally not. Bill is a screeching, senseless lunatic. By best guess at his physical form is something like this.” [arrow points to Ford’s idea of Bill, which is like a triangle-shaped meatball with his eye and a strange large mouth]

I love you, Alex. I really do. Getting that nod at the fandom’s general depiction of human!Bill is the greatest feelings that I didn’t know I could have - yes, we had it before, but not so directly and in a published book. It still brings that certain level of satisfaction. I’m continually amused at the jabs at it, and I still to this day love quite a few depictions of him, but more than anything I’m flattered and amazed that fan-artists can get recognition at this level in this day and age. It is truly a time to be alive. I love this book.

Right page: [the figure of the human head’s brain separated into categories reads “ego, deceit, lies, pride”.] “Counterattack strategy: ?????? A triangle is supposed to be the most stable shape in geometry, but there is nothing more unstable than this angular psychopath. The damage he’s done to my thoughts is impossible to calculate….what havoc might he have wrought?” Underneath, Bill writes: “Wanna know what I did last time I was in your mind, Sixer? I deleted the world “burden” from your vocabulary and replaced it with “sea otter”! Good luck next time you try to sound ominous, smart guy!”

You know, I’m surprised that Bill writes properly. You know, proper grammar, capitalization, punctuation… You’d think he’d be the one to write in all-caps, like he talks! I didn’t think about that before now. Weird, isn’t it?

Blank page next to Invisible Ink page: “I have decided to use invisible ink to keep away prying eyes. ANYONE could be watching me!”

Invisible ink page: [the lightbulb has rays of light coming from it as well as a normal eye in the bulb. The ink pot has invisible written on it, with splatters where ink might drip from the pot. There are a series of odd symbols drawn around it as well as a few on top of the page.] “I may provide previous pages with new secrets I have learned since originally writing them, and perhaps reviewing old passages will stabilize my rapidly dwindling sanity…”

No picture, but the page where Ford goes into town has all the townsfolk’s eyes glowing. Even Paul Bunyun’s.

Hiding Places: [doodle of journal 1] Journal 1 – Describes my first 3 years in gravity falls. Focuses on mythical beasts, geographic anomalies, and my 30-hour arm-wrestling match with a very annoying unicorn.” [doodle of journal 2] Journal 2 – The most dangerous journal! Curses, incantations & dark power became an obsession in this volume. Describes the hiding place of the mystic amulet. I buried the amulet once I learned that it corrupts your soul (and whitens your hair)!” Journal 3 – The volume I hold in my hands. Describes my embarrassing defeat at the hands of Bill and the loss of my very sanity. Also contains a pretty good drawing of a plaidypus. Will soon be bestowed upon S and hidden at the ends of the Earth (I hope).”

Hiding places page 2: Underneath the scribbled out drawing is the picture of the momentum conserver Ford made back in the seventies. Underneath it is written “what might have been…”

Trust No One page: “Can’t sleep!” Is written nine times, and trust no one is highlighted and circled.

On the page next to it, it looks exactly like the show, with several spots on the odd wheel scribbled out, the sad face over the center, and “IS THIS RIGHT? I just don’t know anymore!” written beneath it.

The next two blank pages are Bill’s: “GUESS WHO! That’s right, pal, ol’ Six Fingers just conked out, & that means Captain Bill is steering the ship! And by “STEERING THE SHIP,” I mean making Sixer slap himself over and over! HA-HA-HA! That’s right, I just wrote down the sounds of my own laughter!” [next to the next paragraph, there is a drawing of Bill pouring gasoline on a flaming planet Earth, with the strange expression of someone watering flowers and encouraging their growth.] “Now where was he? Ah, yes! Mr. Serious was saying that anyone who was smart enough to decode these messages is smart enough to get on the right side of history! And that meant joining ME, your new best friend and style consultant, Bill Cipher! All it takes is a little handshake! Ever wanted to see inside the dreams of your crush? Or crush the dreams of your enemies? Or jet someone else control your body and take the old bone-mobile for a spin? ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS SUMMON ME!”

Page 2: “And it’ s so easy! Just say the words “BILL CIPHER” three times out loud, alone in the dark. Ready? I’ll say it with you! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! BILL CIPHER! See? That wasn’t so hard! Now there’s a pathway between your mind and mine. I can see everything you can see! Sixer’s about to wake up, but the business between you and me has just begun. Let’s just say I’ll see you down the road. And if you ever get a phone call from a number that says “UNKNOWN,” pick up. Your Guy on the Inside (of Your Mind), BILL”

June 1 page (aka Dipper’s starting page]: “I discovered the Author’s black light secret! I invented some invisible ink and I’m going to try to write a few sneaky – Ugh! I spilled it! Now it’s everywhere! Oh, gross! It’s all over my pants! Ugh, this is embarrassing. I’m going to go wash it off. No black light for me. Yuck! –Dipper” [True to his word, dipper spilled the ink all over the next page, and indeed the page he was writing on. It’s like 2 giant splatter marks.

Mabel’s Smile Dip page has the “Do you like me” letter!!! I’m so tempted to check Absolutely!!! BUT I CANNOT TARNISH SUCH A TREASURE!

Bipper page: Underneath the note Bipper left is the best gift this book has given me – a caticature of Bipper. It even says “Bipper as a cat!” underneath it. All is right in the world at this moment. I couldn’t be happier. If you can, look upon that drawing and feel the joy enter your soul.

Category 11/Dipper’s page on Pacifica: (underneath the photo of Archibald Corduroy) “Roses are red, Pacifica’s blood is blue, I read what you crossed out! I’m on to you! Start combing your hair, Brother! –Mabel” Dipifica fans are now 10x happier they purchased this book – or got to read that poem!

I’m Back page: “I have found my old bottle of invisible ink! It was right where I left it 30 years ago – hidden inside the science fair trophy in my electron carpet room. Unfortunately, most of the ink is gone, and there’s a note on the bottle which reads: “Hey, dude! I tried to drink some of this and it made my tummy glow. Like Shimmery Twinkleheart! Ha ha! I think I’m gonna go lie down forever now. –Soos”

I’m Back adjacent page: “What a waste! Although, I am amazed that “soos” survivied what should have been a lethal dose of ink. He must be one of the most fit and healthy men on Earth! It’s just as well – this ink did little to keep my secrets from Bill Cipher. And I may have permanent retina damage from constantly flipping the lights on and off while trying to read my own messages. NOTE TO SELF: Invent bionic eyes. I’ll use what little ink I have left for some….private thoughts. NEW DIMENSION CHECKLIST:

Read the past 30 years of newspapers. I wonder if whales have finally made it onto land and become the dominatnt species. Also, looking forward to seeing how advanced the lasted fax machines must be!

Catch my breath – literally! I haven’t breathed the proper combination of nitrogen, oxygen, and trace vapors in years. Air is great. Really can’t overemphasize how great air is.

Order red turtleneck sweaters in bulk.

Check out The Eurythmics’ latest chart-topper!

Invent something as a sign of goodwill towards my niece and nephew. What do kids like these days? Bionic arm-lasers? Maybe a pet Cthulhu?

ILJXUH RXW ZKDW D “VLOYHU IRA” LV DQG ZKV HYHUBRQH NHHSV. FDOOLQJ PH RQH.” [Translated with Caesar -3: “Figure out what a “Silver Fox” is and why everyone keeps calling me one.”]

OMG

EVEN MORE PROOF THAT I LOVE THIS DAMN BOOK. THE LAST PAGE WHERE FORD WRITES:

“AN INITIATION: to fully complete your initiation as an honorary Pines, there is one final task - to place your hand on this page, hold it while you charge up the black light and then remove your hand. See what happens? Welcome to the family! Zh’yh ehhq zdlqlqj iru brx – Stanford”

If that didn’t rip your heart out, translated with Caeser -3, the last line reads “We’ve been waiting for you.”

I’m literally tearing up. Thank you to everybody who made this book possible. I’ve never been so happy to pay over a hundred dollars for a book. It was worth every penny. And the weird nightmares I got after receiving it.

[Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3]

#gravity falls #journal 3 #journal 3 blacklight #J3 Blacklight Reveal #spoilers #I LOVE THIS BOOK SO MUCH #SO SO MUCH #stanford pines #bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #pines family #618 #long post #like long long post #i love that Do You Like Me note #but i can't remove it from it's sacred place of honor #I'll have to just open the book every day i want to see it #i like how Bill drew himself setting the world on fire #but he still wants us to summon him #i did have some seriously disturbing dreams the night i got it in the mail #like no kidding #the most violent gory dreams i've ever had #there were 2 goat heads in the oven #but they weren't cooking #they just turned grey and their horns charcoal?#it was strange #i also got a knife thrown at me in that same dream #like it almost hit me #i really felt like i felt it scrape my neck!

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soldierstark · 7 years

Text

Kiss and Dash | Part 2 | PETER PARKER X READER

Description: It all starts when the reader kisses Peter Parker for a dare then runs off but it really spirals out of control when Spiderman takes revenge with his own kiss and dash. Is it possible that a simple dare could lead to the unveiling of New York City’s youngest superhero’s true identity? Because not all people kiss the exact same… right?

Author's Note: I know this isn't an update to Double Take but I promise that'll be the next fic I post. I'm currently out of town (this post is scheduled) so I'll be answering all the asks and messages I receive when I get back. Once again I'd like to say that inspiration for this fic came from this one and as always feel free to send me requests or let me know if you want to be tagged in my future fics

Important Notice: I want to hold a contest to celebrate my recent gain in followers and one of my wonderful followers suggested I do a writing contest. Here's a link to the ask she sent me with more info. If enough people message/like/reblog/reply to it I'm going to do it. Please let me know if you're interested so I know if I should do it!

Word Count: 1969

FANFICTION MASTERLIST | Part 1

(Y/N) had kissed him.

She actually pressed him against the lockers, and kissed him.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), his best friend who was relatively timid and shy, stormed into the boy’s locker room, pinned him down, and kissed him.

It was literally, all Peter could think about. He couldn’t tell you what happened in school that day because he was too busy playing the kiss over and over again in his mind. The warmth that seeped through his collar where she grabbed him. The feel of her soft lips against his. The sweet taste she had left behind and the sparks that fizzled all over his body at the fact that she had just kissed him!

And Peter couldn’t understand why. Well, he had an idea of what it meant but he wasn’t really in the mood to dwell over the fact that he might have a crush on one of his best friends.

(Y/N) had never been the type of girl who, well, walked into boy’s locker room and kissed someone. Not only that, but kiss someone fiercely. Peter never thought that (Y/N) had an aggressive bone in her body before this, but that kiss certainly raised some questions to the matter.

“C’mon Peter, bro,” Ned said, snapping a finger in front of his face. “Snap out of it! You’ve been acting like a zombie all day!”

The two boys were in Peter’s bedroom after school doing their homework. Well, trying to at least.

“Huh,” Peter blinked, snapping out of his reverie. He looked over at Ned and saw that he was staring at him with a look that read really dude. “Sorry. I was just thinking about-“

“(Y/N),” Ned finished for him dryly, rolling his eye. “I know though I’m not sure if thinking is the right word for it. More like… obsessing.”

Peter flushed and looked down at his history assignment. He was well aware of how stupid he had been acting today as Ned had to guide him back to class and stop him from running into pillars and walls whenever he caught sight of (Y/N)’s (Y/H/C) hair.

“It’s just that she kissed me Ned!” he cried running a hand through his unruly dark hair. “(Y/N), one of our best friends, kissed me.”

“I know dude,” Ned said flatly. “I was there. I was literally 2 feet away from you. You flopped around against the lockers like a fish,” he snickered.

Peter ignored him and continued. “She just marched right into the boys’ locker room, and kissed me! In front of everyone!”

“I know!” Ned rolled his eyes. “I was there!”

“Yes,” Peter snapped irritably, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “But why Ned? Why did she kiss me?”

“How should I know that?” Ned shrugged, not looking up from his homework. “I don’t read minds. The only way you’re ever gonna find out is if you just ask her.”

Peter looked up at that with a thoughtful expression that was rapidly turning into a mischievous grin. “You’re right Ned,” he stated standing up out of his desk chair. “I will ask her.”

“Of course I’m right,” Ned replied. “Now that that’s settled le-… What are you doing?” he asked looking up from his homework.

Peter was stripping down right in front of him whilst digging around in his backpack. “Getting ready to see (Y/N)”

Ned quirked an eyebrow. “Naked?” he asked confused.

“No,” Peter replied back breathily, pulling a familiar red a blue suit out of his bag.

Ned’s eyes widened as he watched Peter begin to put on his suit. “What in gods name do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to go ask (Y/N) why she kissed me…. Duh.”

Ned stood up off of Peter’s bed. “As Spiderman! Peter, that’s a terrible idea you can’t be serious,” he said shaking his head in disbelief as Peter walked over to his bedroom window and opened it.

With one last smile, Peter pulled his mask over his head and crawled thought the window. “Cover for me. Will you Ned? Thanks! You’re the best,” Peter whisper-yelled before he shot a web out into the distance and swung away.

The best part about being a superhero was the freedom. The feeling Peter got as he swung through the streets of New York City was indescribable. He got an exited tingle in the pit of his stomach as he swung high up above the ground then swooped down until he was only a few feet above the pavement.

It was the ultimate feeling of freedom. And Peter absolutely adored it.

For once, luck was on Spiderman’s side. As he approached (Y/N)’s apartment building he noticed that she was already sitting outside on her balcony. She was turned away from him, writing in what he was guessing was her notebook, unaware that anyone was watching her.

Spiderman swung onto the balcony, landing in a crouched position quietly and stealthily like any good superhero. He stood up straight and leaned against the railing casually. “What are you writing?” he asked.

(Y/N) jumped up and turned around quickly, breathing erratically. She sighed in relief and rested a hand on her heart trying to soothe its erratic rhythm. “Oh,” she mumbled looking at him confused. “It’s you.”

“Not happy to see me?” Spiderman asked feigning hurt.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders. “Well I’m not mad to see you either. I’m just surprised and confused as to why you’re here right now.”

Spiderman strolled along the perimeter of the balcony nonchalantly. “I was in the neighborhood and saw you out here and I decided to check in. For no reason in particular, though if I’m imposing I’ll leave.”

“You’re not imposing,” (Y/N) reassured him. “It’s just rather unusual that New York City’s youngest superhero drops by my apartment on a Tuesday evening. What can I do for you?”

Spiderman opened his mouth, ready to ask the question that had been nagging him all day since his PE class, and then immediately snapped it shut. It suddenly occurred to him, he should’ve listened to Ned. He couldn’t ask (Y/N) why she kissed him, Peter, while dressed as Spiderman.

Apart of him still wanted to ask (Y/N). Mostly out of curiosity, but it would also be a relief for Peter if his other best friend knew his secret. He knew (Y/N) pretty dam well, so he knew that she’d definitely keep his secret, but now didn’t seem like a good time for to reveal it however.

Why didn’t Peter think this through? Why did he have to be so dam impulsive and swing on over to her apartment without thinking about the consequences?

“…Spiderman,” (Y/N)’s voice echoed around him. “Hello?”

Spiderman blinked and realized that (Y/N)’s hand was being waved in front of him. He shook his head and snapped himself back to reality. He was still on (Y/N)’s balcony with no real explanation as to why, while in his suit.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking over the railing and down at the street. “I was just… thinking.”

(Y/N) walked over to him and leaned over railing next to him. “About what?”

Panicking slightly, Spiderman said the first thing that came into his mind. “About how beautiful you look against the setting sun,” he said with surprising confidence. Where the hell did that come from, Peter thought to himself.

Much to his amusement, (Y/N) blushed a rosy red color as she made eye contact with him. “Do you always hit on strangers?” she asked with a slight smile. “But uh… thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.”

That’s when inspiration struck.

Peter couldn’t ask (Y/N) why she kissed him this morning, but he could induce the same stunned, flattered, embarrassment that she had inflicted on him. “I don’t know why you’re blushing sweet cheeks. You probably get complimented on your good looks all the time.”

(Y/N) snorted and smiled at him playfully. “Okay, now you’re just being nice. Don’t act so full of yourself.”

“I’m full of nothing except my complete and utter amazement of your beauty.”

“Are you expecting a huge thank you from me or something?” she asked with a smirk.

There was an unmistakable playful glint in (Y/N)’s eyes, one that Peter had seen before on many occasions. But something was different now. Spiderman found himself drawn to it like a moth to flame, and he couldn’t resist it any longer.

He reached one hand forward and grabbed (Y/N)’s chin while simultaneously lifting his mask up ever so slightly, bringing his lips down to hers. As they kissed for the second time that day, Spiderman felt something stir inside him filled with giddiness and excitement.

As he slowly deepened the kiss from a caste peck to something a little more passionate, Peter could no longer deny the fact that he had a crush on (Y/N). This kiss lacked the aggressiveness and fierceness that (Y/N) had poured into their earlier kiss, but there was something about it that made it so, much, better.

(Y/N)’s arms snaked up his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer to her. Spiderman kept one hand on her cheek and gripped her by the waist with his other arm.

When they broke apart for air, Spiderman gazed at (Y/N)’s dazed expression. Her lips were pink and swollen while and her cheeks matched in color. Mission accomplished.

“That’s all!” he said cheerfully, pulling his mask back down over his lips and chin. He whirled around and immediately took a running jump off of (Y/N)’s balcony and began his journey home.

The window to his bedroom was still open when Peter arrived home. He crawled in stealthily on the ceiling and dropped down onto the floor in a crouching position, looking over at Ned who was sitting on his bed with a blank expression.

“You’d never believe it, but I just got a sense of déjà vu,” Ned said dryly.

Peter chuckled and pressed down on his suit so it loosened around him and slinked off. “Did Aunt May notice I was gone?” he asked taking the mask off of his head.

Ned shook his head. “Nah she’s been cooking dinner. What did she say?”

“What did who say?” Peter asked putting on a t-shirt.

“(Y/N),” Ned said quirking an eyebrow. “What did she say when you asked her about the kiss?”

Peter pulled on a pair of pajama pants and ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask her about it,” he answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Then what did you say?”

“We didn’t talk much.”

“Then what did you?”

Peter pursed his lips and looked away from Ned, suddenly interested in his history homework which was still sitting on his desk.

“Peter,” Ned drawled out slowly. “What did you do?”

“I- uh- sort of, maybe, kissed her,” Peter answered rubbing the back of his neck.

Ned stared at him blankly. “You kissed (Y/N).”

“Yes.”

“As Spiderman?”

“Yes.”

“Out of revenge?”

“Ye- well when you put like that I’m n-“

“Peter!” Ned burst out suddenly, no longer calm and collected. “Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

Peter looked at his friend confused. “Ned I just kissed her it’s really not that big of a deal. I mean sure it wasn’t my smartest decision ever but…”

Ned groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. “Peter, you just kissed (Y/N) as Spiderman only hours after she kissed you. (Y/N). The extremely perceptive girl who pays extreme attention to detail. The girl who’s probably sitting in her room right now, wondering why the hell Spiderman and her best friend Peter Parker kiss the exact same way.”

Peter’s faces went pale when he caught on to what Ned was saying. “Oh my god,” he moaned, rubbing his temples. “Ned. What have I done?”

“You my friend, have done fucked up.”

Tagged:

@vixrobs98

@davros2004

@that-really-awkward-dinosaur @johnsonxstilinski

@hanabyn

@autumn-eternally

@captainbarness

@sylviestars

@gracehollanne

@writtenforthestars

@rosaetum

@alurea-actually

@fridgeisle

@peter-pan-hoe

@not-now-not-here

@parker---peter

@wizardinthewrongplace

@aweways

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bluboothalassophile · 7 years

Text

Rooftop Dances

Selina had probably always loved him, ever since they were kids. Different kinds of love, of course, but she’d loved him all the same.

The first time she ever saw Bruce Wayne, not in the papers of course, but in person, was on the worst night of his life. She’d witnessed his parents’ murders, heard his screams of anguish, and she could still hear those screams on the bad night. And those screams had made her hard, young, cynical heart bleed for another human who wasn’t Ivy for the first time in a long time. So she’d tried to help him out, Gordon seemed like a straight shooting kind of guy, so she went out on a limb and trusted a cop for the first time ever in her young life. Of course that went horribly but that was another matter entirely.

The first time she met Bruce Wayne she had been told she was safe. That broken kid was so genuine Selina had just wanted to guard him against the world, and scratch the eyes out of anyone who dared to come near him. The kid was wicked smart too, a bit of a stiff, but holy shit, he was so fucking smart! Selina couldn’t keep up half the time with his thought process though she did try. But the kid was clearly a genius which worried her a bit because at that time he was so damn trusting. Seriously, if someone offered the kid an ice cream cone out of a pedophile van he might have taken it not knowing to be afraid.

However, his friendship was a shock to her life; and actual damn frustration at times.

Not that it mattered, she loved the kid, and for a long time she was convinced that love was platonic, at least until one of those preppy prep school princess started looking in his way. He was fifteen, growing into his jaw, growing tall like a fucking weed, and had this voice he was breaking into. Bruce was going to be a handsome man, and those princesses were not worthy of him, at all. Selina had initially dismissed her possessive feelings as looking out for a genius level, naïve kid who she’d come to care about despite all the hells, the troubles, the antics, and disruptions he caused to her simple life.

She was sixteen the first time she’d seduced him, neither had really expected it, neither had planned it, and neither had stopped it. Selina loved knowing that later, despite all the others, she’d been his first, like he’d been hers. Bruce left Gotham shortly thereafter, left her with a goodbye note, and Wayne Manor was shut up for the first time in her memory.

Of course, she’d been concerned, but then again she had her own life and her own worries to worry about as she sharpened her thieving skills. She wasn’t staying down in the gutter for forever. There wasn’t much time for her to worry about her friend as she struggled to survive on her own.

Quickly she built up a rep for her skills, and she was good too. All she had was her juvie record, which she’d disposed of because she was that good.

It was when she was turning twenty-six that it hit the papers: Gotham’s Prince Returns!

Selina had snatched up a copy despite herself and just stared at the cover image of him. Her cold, hard heart did that annoying thing it usually did when she saw him and she just stood there in the fog, the sleet, and the cold staring at his image. The tender barked at her and she paid for the paper as she walked home to her nice penthouse to read this. Curled up on her favorite chair she owned she scratched Isis’ head as she stared at the image of him.

He hadn’t changed, well, that wasn’t true, he had. He’d grown into those looks he’d been coming into. A nice strong, square jaw, those icy blue eyes of his. God, he was so handsome and tall, thick, he’d really grown up well. She smiled a bit as she read his story.

Of course, she wasn’t going to see him.

She’d changed, he changed, they weren’t kids anymore.

Selina went to London to steal a Bast statue. Which lead to her staying away from Gotham for a bit. Well, a bit turned out to be a year, and she hadn’t paid attention to Gotham news, so upon her return, for a job to liberate a rare diamond she had gotten a hell of a shock to her system.

Her first encounter with the Bat had been a true shock. He’d intercepted her on the roof as she was running, free as a cat and then she wasn’t. The man was huge, shit he’d scared her, she swung hard, he evaded, and for a man that size he was fast. Really fast. Kicking for his gut, he caught her leg, his voice was gruff and it sent a thrill down her spine. Even despite how he was dressed; seriously!? The man must have had mental issues or something! He was dressed as a Bat!

Somehow that was a massive turn on even as she struggled to keep her prize for the first time in over a decade, but the man was relentless. Eventually, she was teetering on the edge when she felt the call was about her life or the diamond. Selina lost the battle, but the war was far from over as she scampered off after she blew him a kiss, tossed the stranger a wink and skedaddled like no one but she could. She knew she’d left him in the dust, and felt a thrill down her spine at the thought of going toe to toe with him again.

Over the next year she and Batman went toe to toe more and more often, often leaving them at a draw, but the thrill of it got to be so much more fun. It was like a game, or a seduction, he was so serious, and such a tease, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Like a moth to the flame. The first time they’d kiss, she tackled him off the roof in hopes of startling him. He’d ended up startling her, when he whispered her name in a ragged tone, and he’d saved her as he snatched her prize away and disappeared into the night.

Now it was an obsession, she would figure out who the Bat was, she would do it. He was so familiar to her, and yet so different she was trying to figure it out. He was far too familiar for her not to know. But she couldn’t place her finger on it.

Bruce Wayne’s takeover of his family’s company was news which had her cheering the awkward genius kid she’d once known, and she hoped he could change the world. His revamping project in the area she’d once lived in, the same neighborhood she’d let him live with her in, was his first of many changes. The man proved himself to be Gotham’s White Knight, even if he was uncharacteristically involved with so many women. Selina didn’t like the feeling her gut would get when she saw the headlines of his latest conquest. Some small vicious part of her wanted to claw their eyes out, but she couldn’t. Her claim on Bruce had long since ended, she’d been his first though, and that held her a special spot in his life no matter what was to come.

Her rooftop dance with the Bat continued to escalate. Their game of Cat and Bat became more of a seduction, a dance they both excelled at as they pushed themselves. The kisses turned into something more, she couldn’t get enough of that flavor of his. He was something cold, a bit metallic, but damn he tasted divine, and she was hooked. Besides, she liked having him all over her, the man was huge. It was during one of these make out sessions that it clicked in her mind who he was, as she let him ravish her.

He had obviously gotten more skilled, but it was the way he touched her which had her biting her lip to keep from whispering his name, his real name as she clung desperately to him. Bruce, he was Bruce, the hard, imposing, intimidating, terrifying Bat was the dorky, awkward, naïve kid she’d loved. He clearly had grown up a lot, and to be kind of honest, she wanted to know more about him as she brought his lips to hers again. She’d missed him so much.

She decided to pay him a little visit, as she pulled on an elegant evening gown and a mask for a masquerade ball he was throwing at the museum, she had work there and she wanted to see him. Slipping in wasn’t a problem, even as she cased the joint.

“It’s been a very long time, Miss Kyle,” his voice was behind her which had her red lips curling a bit as she tilted her head back. Fuck he’d gotten tall, she was an average athletic woman, standing at five foot six, but Bruce, he now towered over her.

“Not as long as you’d like me to believe,” she informed him. Bruce blinked as his lips curved a bit. “Been a while kid, how’s life treatin’ ya!?”

Bruce laughed, a real laugh she’d later learn, not one of his social laughs. “I suppose alright, and you?”

“You know me, always surviving,” she purred.

“Uh-huh, you can return my father’s watch to me, Selina,” he dryly mused.

“Just wanted to see if I had taught you anything,” she promised holding up the watch. He shook his head in exasperation no doubt, and she smiled innocently. She’d kind of forgotten how much she had loved him. Even as her stomach was all in a flutter, and there was a heat pulsing in her blood which made her want to kiss Bruce Wayne the way he’d kissed her last night when he’d been the Bat. But she didn’t, she’d let him keep the illusion for now, that she didn’t know. It was for the best, people like Joker, and Penguin would kill to know who the Bat was, and she didn’t want it known she knew.

Catching up with Bruce was so much fun, she hadn’t even remembered to case the joint. Oh well. There was always later.

Two weeks later it was in the news that Bruce Wayne had been at the circus when the Flying Graysons died leaving behind an orphan. Bruce was photographed with the boy, and her heart bled a bit for the kid, and for Bruce.

Two months later was the biggest news to ever hit Gotham press, ever. Even she’d been thrown by this loop. Bruce Wayne takes in Circus Kid.

The rooftop dances between her and Bruce slowed a bit, but she figured it was single parenthood and wondered if she should swing up to the Manor or something as Selina to say hi and meet the kid. It was for the best though if she didn’t. After all, she had never fully won Alfred over, though as a kid she hadn’t been trying to. She supposed now though she should have, Alfred Pennyworth had been a pretty cool, but terrifying, dude.

Nearly eight months later the Bat had a partner. She’d been livid! Not because he had a partner, no, but rather because he was willingly putting a kid into this life; after all the shit they’d been through as kids! Oh, she was furious, she was about to march right up to that Manor and give Bruce a piece of her mind, she didn’t care if she ousted him on his little secret, this should not be left to stand! Richard Grayson was a kid; and she had no doubt that’s who was behind the colorful mask and in that green speedo trapezing through the city as if he were born to fly.

However, the first night she officially met Robin, was her first night back from a job in Rome. She was tired, she was hunting up Bats, dressed as the Catwoman, and she knew that was the fastest way to catch him. She was not however planning to meet the kid who was going to be the focus of her talk.

There was a cackle behind her, she turned just as he threw some of Bat’s favored toys at her which had her evading and the kid came at her. He was bright, he was angry, he was so full of life she went easy on the kid as he attacked her.

“Mind telling me what it is I did here squirt?” Selina asked as he came at her with some impressive flying kicks, she caught his ankle and dangled him over the side of the building, he was smiling though. Damn he was tiny; he was what? Ten, eleven?

“Well, you’re Catwoman, you’re a bad guy, I’m gonna catch you!” he stated impatiently. It was that tone, just that impatient, black and white tone Bruce had had as a kid which had her softening and warming up to the kid. She sighed.

“Kay squirt, if I put you back on the roof, you have to promise not to attack me,” Selina said.

“And if I don’t?”

“Well, I don’t mind tying up the Bat’s brat for a bit, and waiting for him to come for you, I need a chat with him anyways,” she purred.

“He’s not my dad!” the boy shouted.

“Never said he was,” she stated. The kid’s optic eyes were assessing her before he nodded, and she set him on the roof; kid was tiny, she’d put him at maybe eight pounds, and he was on the leaner side. However, she was seeing he was a hell of a gymnast. “So, what’s eatin’ ya, squirt?”

And thus started her relationship with the Robins, though at the time she didn’t know it’d be more than one Robin to come.

Dick was the kid’s name, she’d later learn he was ten, could not sit still for five minutes, he had a motor mouth, he was bright, happy for the most part, but there was an anger in him which had her thinking the worst could come. She would keep an eye out on the kid and Bruce.

Ivy met Harley that year too, and love sprung up for her redheaded friend who pined for the blonde. But the blonde was trapped in that toxic relationship with the Joker, and Selina knew there was nothing to be done to save Harley or Ivy from this. Even as Ivy went about befriending Harley. It was like a sick twisted game for the Joker though, and Selina couldn’t stop it.

Then there was the matter of her own complicated relationship with Bruce, and Batman, because she knew Bruce knew she knew who he was. It was complicated. The years slipped by, the game between them manifested into quickies, and late nights, early mornings, unspoken agreements between the two of them that it wasn’t serious, this was just a release from the tensions between them. She had even said as much on morning after as she walked around her penthouse wearing his shirt.

Bruce had had her bent over her counter and screaming his name in minutes when she’d said she’d find a better lover.

Yeah, no, she wasn’t going to find a better lover, it just wasn’t possible. Bruce, a man skilled in fighting styles that were extinct, and the world’s greatest detective, was almost a god in bed (or anywhere else for that matter), and she’d never had better sex, ever.

Dick was sixteen when he ran off to Blüdhaven, Bruce had been frantic to find him. Selina had ended up in the car with her friend (lover Bruce may be, but he was also a friend to her and had been for a very long time), and drove with a madman all the way to Blüdhaven. Selina wasn’t there for the fall out between Dick and Bruce, she’d gone on a walk, beat the shit out of two would be muggers who’d have probably been rapists if she didn’t happen to be good at ass kicking.

The drive home was rode in silence.

Whatever was said, it must have hurt because Bruce didn’t seem like himself, though he seemed relieved a bit. Selina just let it be, she’d talk to Dick later, they had a standing weekly call she’d started shortly after their first encounter.

Blüdhaven’s new hero was Nightwing, Selina laughed a bit at Dick’s flamboyant costume, he looked like some Egyptian pharaoh wanna be. But the kid was smiling again, and she was told he talked to Alfred regularly. He had forged some papers making himself eighteen as he applied to the Blüdhaven Police Academy, and Selina promised to show for his graduation. Bruce would show as well, she knew that about Bruce, but whether or not he’d interact with Dick was a different matter. For as smart as Bruce was, he was not good with emotions which was why she and her lover weren’t on speaking terms at the moment.

It was a short six months later that Bruce appeared in the news with one Jason Todd as his ward. Selina had been infuriated, especially when the kid had donned on Robin for the first time. She was outraged on Dick’s behalf, and she would have had a shouting match with Bruce if the night she met Jason.

The Crime Alley was so thick in his voice, even as he tried to hide it, he had a cigarette in his hand, and the kid was small, smaller than Dick, he was twelve and he was smaller than Dick had been at twelve. The moment she saw the newest bird, she had faltered in her conviction to yell at Bruce. Especially when she started talking to the kid, she got it, she got the kid, she felt a kinship to the kid. More than she’d felt for Dick, or Bruce. This Robin was special, he made her smile. The kid was sharp, he was special, and she could see what Bruce saw with Jason, she really could. But it didn’t excuse him replacing Dick so Bruce would still get a piece of her mind. Though Jason quickly became one of her favorite people in and out of the life, he was just a bundle of life, despite the pain of his life, that kid was alive, and damn if she didn’t love him.

When Bruce’s… you know, she wasn’t even sure what that woman was to Bruce, but when Talia al Ghul showed it wasn’t good.

Selina wanted to scratch the woman’s eyes out, but she’d gone to New York on a job. She got back to her apartment though and Bruce was a wreck, not Batman, Bruce, and Jason was frantically calling, and everything was a mess; and she knew it was bad when even Alfred called her. After calming both Alfred and Jason down, and Dick who’d called after the panicked calls he’d gotten from Alfred and Jason when no one knew where Bruce was, she when about soothing Bruce. She didn’t know what had happened, he didn’t say, but it was apparent that Talia was behind this and Selina swore if she ever saw that woman again she’d scratch her eyes out. Bruce left that night.

The years blurred, and Selina remembered shattering one day when she flipped on the news.

It’d been a bit since she’d talked to Jason, he’d called because he was mad at Bruce’s lecture and she’d patiently waited while he ranted and raved. When he was done they had chatted a bit about his school, a girl he was thinking to ask to homecoming but was nervous because Jason was Jason, and he didn’t think he stood a chance. She had given him a pep talk promised to talk soon, and they’d hung up.

Now she collapsed seeing the news, and the footage as the coffin was wheeled off the plane with Bruce there. She screamed, she cried, she wept, and she hated the world for stealing that bright boy away. A kid who had been so damn proud to get out of the Alley, to have a shot at life, and to live, he’d had a future, he’d had hope, he had a life.

Selina didn’t go to the funeral, she went underground to weep her sorrows away. But she couldn’t stay there. No, she couldn’t. She had slapped Harley upon sight for Jason’s death and screamed and raged at the blonde for her lover’s crime, she had nearly scratched Ivy’s eyes out when Ivy had intervened. Selina hated the clowns, and she wanted them dead, and if she ever encountered Joker, God have mercy on him because Selina would have no mercy. The Joker had broken her Robin, and Jason had been hers, just as Dick had been, and she took that personally, though she knew Bruce wouldn’t kill the Joker, she would. If Selina ever encountered clown he was dead, and she’d consider every second in prison for his death worth it. No questions asked.

It was shortly after Bruce didn’t save the Joker from a helicopter crash and they thought the Joker dead that there was an invasion. The Darksied invasion a few months after Jason’s death, which spurred the hero world into action not that she was involved with that. No, Selina had kept a low profile, helping out the little guys, keeping kids safe. Making sure the people no body would save were safe, because that was what Jason would have wanted. Not that she was a saint the entire time. A lot of precious gems left uncared for found their way into her possession. By the end of the invasion the Justice League had officially been formed; it’d been unofficially formed for a few years now.

Six months after Jason’s death she caught the news, and her fury knew no bounds as she stormed to Gotham to shred the pretender wearing her birds’ costumes. She knew Dick was west coast with the Robin costume, eighteen and he hated it. But he was keeping it. The new kid though had it, and she was going to shred him like mincemeat. Then she’d rip her lover apart.

However, before she ran into Bruce she encountered the newest baby bird donning the Robin suit. The kid had a homemade suit; and trust her, she knew the difference. The littlest bird yet, he was about Jason’s size, or smaller, he was sweet, cute, a bit innocent too, and God the hero worship that kid had for Jason. Selina couldn’t hate that kid. His name was Timothy, Timothy Drake, and fuck did she ever come to love that baby bird.

Bruce took to the kid too, he reigned back on some of his more violent tendencies, he didn’t smile anymore, but he softened a bit.

It was after meeting Tim that Selina finally made good with Ivy and Harley. Ivy and she worked on getting Harley out of the relationship with the Joker; mostly so Selina could kill the fucker and not have to deal with a weepy Harley. It wasn’t easy, Harley was used to the Joker’s abuse, and Ivy wasn’t having anymore of it. Selina was only helping because when she stopped and thought about it, Harley didn’t have anything to do with Jason’s death and could be forgiven for poor taste in lovers. Ivy’s reasons for wanting Harley out was because Ivy was fully in love with Harley, so Selina had surrendered to help, knowing just how much love sucked.

She visited Jason on his fifteenth birthday, the grave was undisturbed, quiet, he was with his mother, Catherine, whom he’d loved very much. Selina pulled a small little figurine for the boy, something she had from her mom she’d intended to give to Jason because he’d shared a similar love for his mother as she had hers, and both had lost their mothers young to then been on the streets. Selina knew what that was like, which was why she’d looked out for Jason so much.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, and I’m so sorry Bruce couldn’t save you,” she whispered to the grave as she stood there for a long time alone in the August heat staring at his name. Too young to have really lived, too young to have known so much pain, and yet, she didn’t think she’d met a more empathetic, or compassionate soul in all her years of life. The world was just a bit dimmer without Jason Todd in it.

The first time Bruce came to her bed was a year after Jason’s death, the grief was something shredding her lover and her, she cried that night, and though they ended up in bed he didn’t touch her. There were no words spoken, no touches exchanged, no love between them, they only hung onto one another as April twenty-seventh tore them apart internally.

Dick called her shortly thereafter, she’d been shocked to hear from the now eighteen year old, he was not happy, still serious and so unlike himself, commanding, and trying to embody Bruce’s persona of being tough. He’d taken the mantle Robin, though Tim still had Robin and Bruce had taken to training Tim too. Dick was still stubbornly clinging to Robin to try to oust the kid so another Jason didn’t happen.

It wasn’t working. Mostly because ‘Batman needs a Robin’ was Tim’s motto, and Tim was doing this for Jason.

As the call progressed Selina heard all about Dick’s new team, the Cyborg from the invasion, an alien princess named Starfire (Selina was pretty sure the kid was in love, not like with Barbara, but full head over heels in love with the alien princess), there was a greenling, named Beast Boy, and then there was a sorceress, Raven. Selina listened in amusement at Dick’s frustrations, but she thoroughly enjoyed the call all the same.

The first time her lover touched her was a year and a half after Jason’s death, and actually she came onto him. She couldn’t stop herself because she’d missed him, missed their dance, missed them. Billionaire Bruce Wayne was a family man, and still a ‘player’ according to the papers, but she knew he was done with his wild ways, he wasn’t looking for relationships, he wasn’t seeking companionship, Jason’s death had been the thing which had shattered him. He acted so alone

Oh, her lover wasn’t alone, not by a long shot had his boys, angry Dick, sweet Timothy, and the newest addition was Timothy’s little girlfriend, Spoiler. Bruce had Alfred still, and he had her, but Selina didn’t think he’d ever fully recover from losing Jason. Instead, she decided to love him broken and all because she hadn’t ever stopped loving him even when he pissed her off, even when he hurt her, even when she wanted to hate him for bringing those boys into her life only for her to lose one.

That kiss had lead to a weekend where they both forgot about their games, forgot about the Bat and the Cat, and just let themselves feel. She reacquainted herself with his old scars, and some new ones he’d collected over the year she hadn’t seen him and she loved him. She just let herself go as she loved him, for she’d always love Bruce, the ever awkward man he was, for he was awkward when he was himself and not being the Bat, or Brucie, or Bruce Wayne CEO, or any of his other personas. And she loved Bruce, sweet, awkward, dorky, broken Bruce.

Selina was never going to be a good girl, she knew it one night when their rooftop dance resumed. The Cat and the Bat, they danced with one another, and Selina thoroughly enjoyed their dance again.

Again the years blurred.

Harley finally ditched the clown, Selina had helped Harley and Ivy move into their new place, the lovers were now happy. Though there was a long road ahead for Harley.

Bruce got a daughter, he adopted two assassins’ neglected daughter. Her name was Cassandra, and Selina didn’t know what to make of the new comer other than she adored Bruce, which was cute and it furthered lightened Bruce up to being closer to who he had been before Jason’s death.

Tim joined the Titans, as Robin, he was very proud of this and told her all about it one night when he’d intercepted her on a jewel heist. She had listened with pride and amusement at the littlest bird’s accomplishments, and she hadn’t been too upset about losing her score that night.

Dick took up Nightwing after it was clear Tim wasn’t dropping Robin, and actually, Dick had kind of come around to Tim. Though Selina would testify that Tim was a very pushy, invasive, but likeable kid, one who she looked out for far better than she had Jason. Joker was not taking another of her birds, well they weren’t hers’ technically, the kids were Bruce’s but a the kids were hers’ in a smaller way, and she loved them all.

The year the Red Hood tore through Gotham was the year of the biggest change, and it wasn’t necessarily for the worse. No, Red Hood had taken over the crime underworld, he had a network superior to Bruce’s of informants, and gangs, and weaponry. He’d decimated Black Mask, which she could not find to be a bad thing since Black Mask had killed five of her best fences for fun. He’d also driven Maroni’s forces back and claimed all the working girls; who were no longer terrorized or threatened but actually taken care of.

Of course Bats didn’t like the Red Hood’s methods, and the war between the Bat and Red Hood was of legendary skill. Whoever the Red Hood was, he was good, he was very good, he could almost match Bruce punch for punch, pound for pound, and round for round. The only major difference was, unlike Bruce, the Red Hood was not afraid to kill, as she learned one night when she’d encountered him. Selina was moving off her score’s run to intervene on a gang rape.

Red Hood had gotten there first.

Five dead would-be rapists later, and him jotting down a number for the victim to call before he walked her home.

The Red Hood was lethal, but what Bats didn’t see was what she’d seen, he had compassion, perhaps not for the ones he killed, but for the victims. Bruce didn’t see that, but Bruce hadn’t seen what she’d seen, which made her only respect the Red Hood and leave him to his business as she went about hers. She wasn’t going to tangle with him anytime soon.

She’d been in Venice when the news of the Red Hood’s disappearance hit the Gotham papers. She’d come home only to find a very conflicted looking Bruce sitting on her bed looking as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. He’d aggressively, and passionately taken her, as to what was bothering him, she had no idea. Again.

Selina found out about Oracle quite by accident, she’d remembered the crippled Batgirl; who’d been attacked by the Joker to hurt Bruce, also, but as Selina had never been particularly close to that one she hadn’t ever thought about what had happened to her. But the Oracle ran a Birds of Prey, Selina found out one night, as she met the former Spoiler, now Batgirl, and the Black Bat. The Cat hadn’t ever encountered them, it’d been an interesting night, which only landed her in her lover’s bed, and her score thwarted again. Don’t ask her how because she was trying to figure that out still.

The year of the biggest change came when Bruce and she decided to try the dating thing rather than just their normal rooftop tango which landed them in bed. She and Bruce had been at this for so long that dating was still terrifying, but it seemed… it seemed safe. Or at least it did Talia al Ghul reared her head again, Selina had been out of Gotham at the time; L.A. on a job. She’d come back to find herself looking at a very angry, tiny version of Bruce in her apartment.

The kid’s name was Damian Wayne, he had olive skin, and sharp green-blue eyes, she wouldn’t go so far as to say green or blue for there was a shade of ice and a shade of emerald in those eyes. He was waiting for her when she walked into her apartment.

Yeah, she’d gotten the heads up from a cut up, frustrated, angry Dick Grayson who apparently was not thrilled about his latest youngest sibling. Selina had only half listened to him at the time but found herself looking at Damian now.

“So you’re the harlot mother warned me about, you don’t look like much,” was the first words out of the kid’s mouth.

At that moment Bruce appeared, which was good for the kid because for the first time in Selina’s memorable life she wanted to knock a kid’s lights out. After Bruce had dragged Damian, no, Robin, away she’d encountered a frustrated Timothy, who’d also been hiding in her place (Selina felt she needed to get a new place if all the kiddies were just popping in now). A tub of ice cream and ranting later, Tim, now Red Robin, leapt off her balcony which had her about to shut it when her lover appeared. Selina cocked her hip and demanded to know just what the hell was going on with him and the newest kid and everything.

They’d spent most the morning going over what had happened and Selina really despised Talia (apparently she was more than a lover to Bruce, who had apparently married her about fifteen years ago but that had shattered after a miscarriage). Talia had shown up about ten years ago and drugged Bruce, Selina remembered then that time Bruce had just shown up at her place wigged out, apparently that’s what that’d been about and Damian was a product of it. Selina didn’t like it, neither did Bruce, however, Bruce was determined to be a father, even if how the boy had come about wasn’t how he’d wanted.

“The boy’s innocent, he doesn’t deserve the backlash of what is between Talia and I,” he said awkwardly. And Selina remembered right then just what it was she had loved about this man, and Jason’s death hadn’t snatched it away, just buried it. She smiled as she rested her head on her lover’s shoulder then and they sat in silence together. She was proud of Bruce, very proud of him for taking this child in, and taking this on.

Though she wouldn’t tell him how much she loved him, or inform him of how proud of him she was, she showed him all morning and most of the day until Alfred called with a WE emergency.

Selina tried to like the new Robin, but the kid was not making it easy, and as the next few months slipped by she felt it was a herculean task. Almost a year had slipped by and she only knew one thing for certain about the newest Wayne, and Robin:

The Kid Was A Handful.

Which was why her lover and hers’ relationship was more scattered, moments more desperately stolen in the shadows, and their carelessness for the need came about. They’d had more than one slip up in their desperation for a moment or two without one of Bruce’s many kids interrupting them. Funny, she really missed the days when her biggest worry was if Bruce would pocket her score when he was distracting her. Now it was trying to get a moment around Dick, Barbara, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, and Damian, how the hell had she gotten tangled up with a man who had so many damn kids!? And better yet, why did she care about them, and think of them as her own in small ways? Thoughts for different times though as Bruce spun her around as they fell off a roof, her lips on his as she wrapped around him, knowing he’d catch them. They landed on a secluded rooftop finally and she pinned him as she frantically, and careless worked them free. Time was limited at this point, none of the kids were around and she needed him. Again they were careless, forgetting years of protection in their need, not that they had cared at the time.

Which was why she supposed that’s what brought her to today as she stood in her bathroom staring at the results.

Two pink lines.

“Shit,” she sighed as she dragged her hand through her short hair. Barely dating, on-again-off-again lovers, and frienemies, but nothing strenuously serious was between them. Until now as she stared at the damning stick and wondered how she was going to tell Bruce. This was going to further complicate them and their rooftop dances. Sighing her head fell back as she just breathed, she could handle this, and Bruce, and his brood, but for right now, she wasn’t going to think about it as she heard her balcony doors open and she dropped the stick in her linen closet towels as she poked her head out to see her lover walking in. A rare night when he came to her place, and dawn was peeking out now, so patrols were over.

“Heyya lover boy! Miss me!?” she asked as she smiled at him.

No words, not that she expected any from the Bat, as he cupped the back her head and caught her mouth. No words were needed for the rooftop dance, or the spark between them, it was too old and familiar to need words as she hopped into his arms with glee.

Worries for another day left her mind as she decided to enjoy her lover.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one-shot #bruce wayne #selina kyle

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