For sale: the Louis Penfield House, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and built in 1955, has had one owner and sits on a rise overlooking the Chagrin River. The 30 acre property also contains the last original building site and plans for Wright’s final residential commission, Riverrock, designed in 1959 and unbuilt. This completely restored Usonian home features a floating staircase and a 12’ floor-to-ceiling glass walled living room; offering a panoramic view of the distant bluffs of the Chagrin River, constructed of heavily textured concrete block w/deeply raked horizontal mortar. All of the Wright-designed furniture is included. The fully functioning radiant-floor heating system is fueled by one of two natural gas wells located on the property. The kitchen counter top was milled from a tree toppled in a storm fifty yards from the house. Using material provided by the land furthers Wright’s vision of organic architecture.
When Lance woke up, his arm wasn’t a bloody mess anymore and he could hear something other than his heartbeat trying to dash out of his body. Exhaling, he scanned the room and realized the quite chatter he heard was from upstairs. It was probably the refugees. He blinked.
The refugees. Wait.
Sleep chamber knees or not, Lance scrambled out of the pod, his armor ruining the impact of the floor when he tripped. Lance kind of needed something to smack some sense in him as he frantically ran for the door.
Keith? Is Keith okay? Is Pidge? Where’s the team? I don’t see anyone in a pod, so that either means everything’s okay or someone’s dead-
Where’s my helmet?
Really, Lance? Now? Of all times?
The itch for to find it doesn’t make much sense until Lance remembers there are communication systems in his helmet. I’m a genius!
After three seconds of looking around the room like an idiot, Lance spots it on top of his folded jacket and jeans. His shoes sat next to them. Someone must have thought to leave them there for him, which was nice, but he wasn’t going to take off his armor until he knew no one was dead or in danger. Picking it up, he pushes it on his head and sighs as it turns on at his DNA signature. “Hello, anyone there?”
“Lance!” Allura’s pleased voice overwhelms him for a second, but he focuses on what she says. “I’m glad you’re awake. All the prisoners are located in the ballroom, and there were only a handful of injuries. Your fellow paladins are safe and doing recon at the moment. You can change into your regular clothes and join them in you wish, but Coran and I wouldn’t mind you hanging back.”
He smiles. Good, everyone was accounted for. “Nah, I’ll go.” He says, shucking off the armor on his calves. He pulls it off while Allura chatters on. “Okay, I’ll send them a message to let them know you woke up and will be joining them shortly. They’re on the coast of this island, which is relatively small, so you’ll be fine walking out the castle door and straight. Rest up when you’re done. We can’t have a paladin tired from battle injuries. Don’t think you can get away with it either. Hunk has a drone with him that monitors the rescue and I will see if you try anything reckless.”
“Okay, Allura.” He laughs, removing his chest plate. She huffs, and says goodbye, the switches off the coms. Lance pulls off his helmet and peels away his flight suit. His back is wide, exposed, and easy to see.
He knows. He knows. He should hurry.
Keith toes a thick chip of metal, flipping it over in a pile of rubble. They’ve just cleared out another jetty, reeling in prisoners with Pidge’s bayard on the floating escape pods, and pointing out the direction they should walk for help. A furry pile of three distinct round mounds hops past quickly, fluffy pastel fur tickling the other colors. It chirps in thanks before speeding up. Cold, dry hands pat Keith on the arm in gratitude as a leathery mix of tree and human walks past, thin legs extending to move the whole body like it’s floating above it.
He huffs. He wants Lance.
Yeah, he could admit it. Lance, was a solid person to have beside him. He always had Keith’s back, he was loyal and funny, and he had just taken a bullet for him. He wanted to make sure he was okay. He wouldn’t stop looking back, searching for a rustle in the bushes and a bright smile, his heart lighter but impatient without Lance.
Keith sighed and crossed his arms, smiling tiredly.
Yeah, he really couldn’t wait to have his sharpshooter by his side again.
After all, a good team takes two.
Lance tugs on the waistband of his jeans and slips on his shoes.
His armor is a heap on the floor in front of the pod - he’ll have to come pick it up later. Anxiety twirls around by his feet and dances up towards his back. His exposed back. There’s a problem. He needs to cover his tan skin immediately. But he hadn’t been left a shirt. He’d have to wear just his jacket and not take it off.
They did “salvage” in casual clothes for a reason. The armor, as protective as it was, added weight. It might have been light and flexible, but it still got in the way of some maneuvers, and if someone fell in water, it would weigh them down. Even if the helmet had life support, it only lasted so long. There were too many “what if’s” when it came to the armor and water. Their best chance at surviving was getting to the surface as fast as possible. Unnecessary weight would slow them down.
Funny how Lance was only physically light. He sunk like a rock everywhere else.
It was ironic how many people would want him to drown when he was the only one who could swim.
Stuffing his arms inside, Lance shrugged on his jacket, and zipped it up. He passed through the halls like a ghost, the survivors busy chattering around him. Demon held inside his jacket, he walked out into the semi tropical rainforest.
It was the worst possible situation.
Lance had just brushed past a leafy bush to have the sea roar in his ears and salt hit his lips. The team was hovering over the rocky coast that disappeared into the blue ocean, craving to save the pod tittering on a small cliff of rock, but unable to risk crossing the water. The pod was absolutely trashed , the spike of obsidian piercing the buoyancy - if it fell, it’d sink to the bottom. Flying out would get them both killed - the pod could fall and take one of the team down, trapping them in the waves, and both the prisoners and them would drown. But what made it horribly, horribly worse was who was in the pod.
Two recongzinable faces peered out the door way, the door probably having been ripped off in the crash. Matt was gripping the edge, bracing himself and using his leg to hold back a weary Samuel Holt. He was definitely injured, unconcious, the small trail of dark blood dripping off into the ocean. The sea rocked and churned underneath them, an uncomplete death sentence, and the pod creaked ominously, ready to give in and crash at any second. Dread sat heavy on Lance’s tongue.
Shiro was grasping Pidge by a hand, his face terrified but trying to gain control. Pidge wasn’t struggling against Shiro- she was struggling against herself, desperation written in her features, but the menacing roll of the ocean warded her away. All she wanted was to save them, Lance could tell, but her body was screaming to flee the water, to fly, to escape being dragged from the sky, dragged to a heavy, wet death. Hunk and Keith looked like a watered down version - scared, cautious motions back and forth, unsure and scared.
Lance’s hand was already playing with his zipper.
Everything about Matt screamed tense and near frantic. Tensed like a cat, his body locked against the open air, sagging like an acrobat on ropes, Matt clearly was trying to find a way out of this without killing himself, his dad, or his sister. But he hadn’t found a possibility. If he moved, the pod would tilt with his weight, or his dad would fall into the water. No one could fly out to them - he’d have to get off himself. But he couldn’t move, the floor of the pod wrecked with a spike behind him and Samuel supported by his leg.
Lance could be that possibility.
Like a sick bird that had finally had enough, the pod plummeted in the water with the screech of torn metal.
Pidge’s heartbroken scream matched it.
Lance was tearing out of his shoes and jacket, tossing it in the sand, head leaps and bounds ahead of him. Sand kicked up from his sprint sprayed the droid and the team as he raced past. Lance could feel their incredulous stares go from the flooded hunk of metal to his bare back, but it didn’t freeze the determination in his veins. He dove in the water with a splash.
Calm was the first word in his mind when the swirling blue washed over his head. It was calm here, the gentle roll of the current miles below him. He was light, weightless. The second word was control. In water, Lance was in command, a quiet authority. He pushed and pulled himself along, arms scooping out his way. Quick, strong kicks brought him to the submerged metal ship, and he pressed two hands to the metal, looking for the window. This ocean wasn’t his, wasn’t theirs’s. They needed to get out soon.
Gliding in through the empty window frame, Lance slinked up to search over the jagged metal and broken, dead wires. Matt’s transfixed face meet his. His eyebrows furrowed, and for someone who should be drowning, he was doing remarkably well at staying calm.
Matt stared at him as if he was a mirage almost, but Lance could tell Matt was the kind who didn’t care as long as they didn’t die. Tapping the roof of cramped pod, Lance waited for Matt to nod before reaching over and working Samuel over the barrier with him, pulling the older man into his arms. A cut craved out a thin line across his calf, a blood came from a smaller one of his head. He was clearly passed out and needed to be brought to the surface ASAP. Lance smiled and held up one finger, then two. Realizing Lance would come back for him, Matt nodded sagely and floated back.
Propelling off the wall, Lance left water dragging behind him. The weight in his arms was incredible - the man wasn’t much shorter than him but had to weigh almost twice as much with his wings.
Thick and waterlogged, they curved and looked fluffy like Pidge’s. Lowered with age, his wings dragged behind him like a pair of broken airplane wings. Streaked with brown and gray darker than Pidge’s, they’d ironically cause the man they made light to drown like an anchor if Lance let go.
He doesn’t dare tempt this new ocean.
Breaking past the surface with a gasp, Lance clutches Samuel to his chest and awkwardly swims to shore with one arm. Scrambling up the loose, wet clumps of sand, he ignores the stricken staring of them team and flips Samuel on his back.
He starts pumping Samuel’s chest.
Come on, come on.
He’s on a time limit, damnit!
He pushes harder, and Samuel suddenly jerks against him, coughing water out of his lungs. Lance takes the second to arrange him on his side so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit, then dashes back into the ocean. His kicks are a last-ditch effort that pay off, literally almost ramming himself into the pod. He yanks himself through the window and nearly slices his hand open on the broken metal wall. He might not be able to fly, but he can swim and save someone drowning. He can. He can, no matter how worthless he is. It is called a trash can - not a trash cannot. (He thinks that’s a line from some anime, but he doesn’t have time to really ask himself if he made a refrence while saving someone drowning. He probably did).
Matt’s lips are turning blue when Lance arrives. His jaw is set and cheeks ballooned out, precious oxygen held inside. Quickly, he reaches out to Lance, who helps him over the wreckage. Wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck, he tucks himself against his body. Lance latches an arm around him, careful to hook it under his wings. They are near replicas of Pidge’s, though clearly entering the final stages. Less childish, more rectangular in design, with darker hints of brown. The tops poke Lance gently in the face, but the bottoms are pressed to Matt’s knees.
Using the smooth sheet of metal as a boost, Lance rushed up to the surface, leaving the pod to sink even faster than before. The distance was greater, the weight heavy, and the time less, but he’d have wings before he let go of Matt.
Bobbing to the surface, he gulps in air. Matt is sucking in giant breathes against his neck, giggling and trembling with relief. He even happy kick-spams to shore with Lance.
But relief is far, far, away from Lance.
The weight of a wingless world crashes on his back, so, so much heavier than Matt or Samuel.
His shoes are too far away.
He doesn’t wait for the team to ask questions, doesn’t give the anxiety and self hate a chance to strike, snatching up his jacket. There’s a quick “Hey-” before water is filling his ears again, and he’s swimming out, swimming away. Desperation and adrenaline sing in his veins, overruling this sea’s temper. This isn’t his ocean. The pushes and pulls are closer to shoves and yanks, semi-aggressively telling him to leave, but Lance makes his way through anyhow. Currents a similar shade of blue to the ones from Earth twirl around him, tiny air bubbles decorating them like stars. It’s frigid, a cold, agitated embrace that makes Lance burn in a satisfying way. He wasn’t like the others, he couldn’t be. No one wanted a wingless. Nothing was ever permanent, not even love.
Lance comes up for air, swallowing a lungful before smoothing back down into the deep. The few seconds he’s up, he hears the team,incomprehensible , but they’ve figured out he’s leaving. Fear pounding at the brittle door calm forces up in his head, Lance dives deeper, the water turning darker without the sunlight. He can still see, but the water is a murky, dusty blue, not the clear, aqua where the light reflects easily. His speed is probably breaking any records he’s had before. Nothing like the people you came to love hating you to make you have a lighting fast exit.
Rocketing through the water, Lance left giant disturbances in his wake. Air bubbles burst out of existence behind him. He had already shifted when he came up for air - his hands curved out his path with the webbing, and the water pressure boxed gently on his ears. His knees weren’t knees anymore, just two long, flat masses of flesh and bone that shot him through the water. The second pair of eyelids he had blinked out any grime in the water, the rhythm different and more pronounced than his first pair. His tongue pressed against the sharp eyeteeth in his mouth, the threat of nicking his tongue grounding him.
He doesn’t know how long he swims, limbs throbbing with fluid energy. He goes until rocks start to spike up, some gentle curves and other sudden daggers slicing through the water. Miles below, he can spot the muddled, bright light purple and galaxy red glow of underwater volcanoes in the darkness. Lance hasn’t seen anything alive yet, but he knew better than to test it by exploring near lava.
Gliding up against the smooth rock, Lance spots the openings to caves, pretty corals fanning out from them and shells dotted here and there. Clutching his jacket tighter, he twists through one. It’s small, and hallow, the water pooling much lower than the majority of the rock. The roaring of the waves crashing washes over the cave, but the cave shelters him. Coal black rock juts out here and there, blocky, but gorgeous in the way only sea caves were. Soft colored crystals lit up small patches of shadow, a handful clustered around an alcove.
Carefully, he clambers up the dry rock to the opening and settles back into it, his knees pulled to his chest, cheek resting against the even rock. The anxiety coils up inside his neck.
Now they despise you.
I mean, why wouldn’t they?
Even you despise you.
Useless, ugly, waste of space. Wingless.
Just drown in that goddamn ugly water you call home.
It suits you.
Nothing but extra weight.
God, why do you exist?
Chilly air pricks at Lance’s bare feet. He tucks himself tighter, wriggling his toes. His jacket is drenched, but he drapes it around the exposed parts of his back. He clings to the rock, hoping the warmth will come back. He’s not freezing, but numb, like rain soaked pavement.
He could stop here, lulled by the tune of a sea that wasn’t his, void emotions filling up his silhouette, abandoned by himself, half asleep in a crevice with a mundane storm brewing over head.
Vlad isn’t used to being interrupted while working in his
lab. Its walls are reinforced lead and its ceiling is buried twenty feet below
basement level. The room is missing from the building plans, invisible to the
code specs, and inaccessible to any snooping government agents. The Guys in
White’s detection equipment has never found it. They would have better luck
finding some hollowed out space by banging on the side of their own heads.
So when Vlad hears the clatter of tripped-over machine parts
and light, breathy cursing from behind him, he knows no normal person has come
to find him. This makes him crack a razor-fanged smile. Vlad lowers the welding
torch he’d been using to stitch some metal parts together for a new portal hub.
He raises the goggles from off his red eyes, and turns around in mock
“Daniel you should have told me you were coming. I would
have put some tea on for the both of us.”
Vlad is right—Danny is standing at the other end of the lab,
but he doesn’t look how Vlad had pictured. No jumpsuit, no balled-up fists, no
murderous green glinting eyes. Danny is entirely human, and he looks only a bit
bothered, like he’s thinking too hard about what to say.
“Vlad,” Danny settles on.
Vlad’s smile doesn’t waver. He takes a few steps forward,
boots clacking out hollow sonorous beats on the cavernous floor. Danny seeking
him out is almost always a treat. It means he’s done something to annoy or
frustrate or enrage Danny enough to be sought out without any effort on Vlad’s
part. It’s already a victory of sorts for Vlad, and he’s eager to know what he’s
Vlad spreads his arms, as if to encompass the far wall of enormous
floating monitors, the pink-swirling portal in the back left corner, the tables
and shelves filled with cobbled-together metal gadgets. Vlad glances down.
There are three empty toppled paint cans at Danny’s feet, clearly tripped over
and just now settling.
“So, to what do I owe this delight? Have you come to hear about my specs for the new Maddie AI? Or maybe you’d like to hear about my
recent cloning breakthroughs. Or—“ Vlad swoops in closer, circling Danny,
delighting in the way Danny’s head whips about to follow his motions, “—is there
something else even better you’d like to discuss?”
Vlad frowns just slightly. There’s no passion in Danny’s
voice, rare for a kid motivated almost entirely by his unstable emotions. There’s
no fire in his eyes either. No accusation or quick remark lashing from his
tongue. Danny’s eyes are calm, and his tone is simply flat.
“What, then?” Vlad asks, and he loses the traction of their
“I went on a college visit yesterday.”
Vlad pauses. He’s half-stooped over Danny, expecting more to
be said. Vlad finds himself with nothing to go on. “…Okay,” he says.
“I like the place a lot. And people with my grades get in
there all the time. Especially if I keep them up for the rest of junior year I
stand a good chance.”
“Then why are you telling me.” Vlad slides away from Danny.
His hope of being cursed out is fading, and his brow furrows. His face
brightens at a sudden thought, “Did you feel the urge to tell me because I’ve
simply become a sort of father figure to you?”
“I want to go there. It’s three hours away by car. One and a
half by the Fenton RV, but that’s with my dad driving.” Danny’s voice has
become clinical, like the very words are tedious, like he’s talking to a
customer service representative and he’s bored. “And it’s an hour away if I
“Get to the point Daniel. I’m a busy man.”
“No you’re not. You just have a lot of creepy pet projects.”
Danny motions stiffly to the pod-like vats that once contained Danny’s old
clones. “My point is I can’t keep super-heroing if I go there.”
“Ah,” Vlad brightens again. He leans in. “A crisis then? A
conflict of character, of morality, and you’ve come to me for advice? You’re
desperate to know if you can hang up your cape to chase a dream so banal as a
normal college life?”
“God—no—shut up just a minute. Not everything’s that
dramatic.” Danny leans away, sizing Vlad up. “My angsty teenage phase has been
over for like a year. And what are you, like, 40? Chill out for like five
minutes, for once.”
Vlad deflates a little, frowning.
Danny clears his throat to continue. “I’m not ‘hanging up my
cape’. I’m not making any rash decisions. I’m just going to college, because
that’s what I want to do, for me. And I’m doing it. I’ve still got my own life
to live. But that means I’m not around
Amity to help with the ghost patrol.”
“You’d willfully leave them unprotected, hmm?”
“Please. Mom and Dad are still kicking ghost ass in the
meantime. And I’m not that irresponsible.
I’m hiring a replacement.”
Danny snorts. “Hell no. She’s got a full ride to some
college out in Michigan for field hockey. She’s getting the hell out like I am.”
Danny’s face sobers. “No, I’m hiring you, Vlad. You’re going to pick up
whatever slack I leave behind, got it?”
Vlad’s face splits into a grin, and he barks a laugh. Then
he throws his head back and roars, teeth glinting, eyes deeply red and alight.
He regains his composure with a few rolling chuckles, and fixes Danny with a
condescending smirk. “Oh, adorable. You think you can make me do what you want.”
“Yeah, I can.”
“Can,” Danny answers firmly. “Because if you refuse, then I’m
going back home, and the second I get through that front door, I’m doing this.”
Danny straightens his shoulders just a fraction, and a glimmering white ring
splits at his midsection, enveloping him, repainting him as something sallow
and yet bright, cold and yet flickering hot, dead and so monstrously alive. And
in some ways, he looks exactly the same. “I realized I don’t care about keeping
my secret anymore, really. Mom and Dad accept Phantom as a helper way more
often than they ever try to shoot at him, and they’d accept me. And I don’t
think it would really change much anymore. I’m not 14 anymore. I could handle
letting them know.”
Vlad’s jaw is tight. “…So?”
“So that’s where we’re different, V-man.” Danny flashes a
condescending smile to match the one Vlad had worn. “You can’t dare to let them
know. The Wisconsin Ghost? You? God, it would end you. My parents, and the town,
and the government—they’d all be at your throat in an instant. You’d lose
everything.” Danny rocks back on his heels. “And I’ll out you in a heartbeat if
you give me a reason to. Because you don’t hold any leverage against me
anymore, Vlad. I’ve grown up, and I’m over it.”
“I do.” Another flash, and the rings sweep past Danny to
reveal the simple body of a human once more.
“…Just for college?” Vlad doesn’t like the edge in his
voice, the quiet anxiety. “Four years?”
Danny shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll come back home after
college if it turns out ghost hunting is the thing I wanna do with my life. Maybe
I won’t.” Danny steps forward, encroaching on Vlad, suddenly taller and surer
than Vlad had ever seen him. “I’ll be home during breaks—I’m sure I’ll happily
pick up the ghost hunting then. But maybe I’ll get an internship somewhere?
Maybe I’ll take a term abroad, you know? Maybe I’ll stay a whole lot of years
more and get my PhD in astrophysics. ‘Dr. Fenton’, like my mom. It’s got a nice
ring to it.”
“You wouldn’t…” Vlad mutters. “Who says I’ll keep doing it
that long, hmm?”
“Go ahead. Break your promise whenever. But the second you
do, I’m giving your identity to everyone I know. And besides. You’re not going
anywhere anyway.” Danny takes a few steps back, and motions around him. “This?
Your whole secret lair down here? You’ve tethered yourself to this place. You’ve
got no family anywhere, and you’ve got no ambitions in your life that don’t
involve me or my mom. You’re 40 and you’re sad and you’ve made your bed here
and I know you don’t intend to go anywhere else, even with all your money,
because what purpose would you even have anywhere else, Vlad? You could do this
for the rest of your life, picking up my slack. You just might.”
Danny flashes to ghost form again, and kicks off into the
air, and hovers up to the ceiling from which he entered.
“Me, Vlad? I’m young, and I’ve got my life ahead of me, and
I can still do something with it. I’m everything you’re not.”
Vlad says nothing. He only stares. He hears only static in
“See you later, or maybe never again, Fruit Loop.”
Ginny glanced over at Draco sitting in a chair nearby in the eighth year common room, reading a rather massive book held rather close to his face. He was one of four people in the common room at the time. No one gave the two seventh years much notice, they tended to come around the eighth year dorms quite often.
Luna elbowed her gently with a don’t give it all away look. Ginny helped her set up the ladder they had found and propped it against the wall.
Floating up against the ceiling were a dozen or so brightly coloured christmas baubles. Both Ginny and Luna looked up at them. Ginny put her hands on her hips, doing her best to hide her impatience.
Luna put her arm through Ginny’s holding it loosely, “Do you think we should transfigure a net maybe?”
Ginny shrugged but started looking around for something handy to transfigure.
They both turned when they heard footsteps approaching from the dorms.
Ginny fought down her grin.
Luna smiled as she always did and waved, “Hullo, Harry.”
Harry waved back a little awkwardly, “Uh, Hermione said you needed help?”
Luna nodded and pointed up towards the ceiling, “I accidentally charmed my favourite baubles to float.”
They all craned their necks up to look at the peacefully drifting ornaments.
“Couldn’t you just fly up on a broom?” Harry asked.
“Surprisingly, brooms don’t work here.” Ginny sighed and added a little sarcastically, “Can’t imagine why the Headmistress wouldn’t want students flying around their common rooms.”
“And you can’t just levitate them down,” Harry added.
“Oh no,” Luna said with concern, “They’re very fragile.”
Ginny went over to the firebox and grabbed a piece of kindling, transfiguring it into a butterfly net as she walked back to them, “I was going to get them down myself but Luna said I couldn’t.” She thrust the net into Harry’s hands.
“You have a game tomorrow,” Luna said, “It’s better to be safe. Besides, Harry’s much better at being injured.”
“Thanks,” Harry said ruefully. He looked the ladder over with distrust. He asked Ginny, “You’ll hold the ladder?”
Ginny nodded. Still holding her wand thoughtfully, she cast a lighten weight charm over Harry, “Just in case. I’ll be able to catch you,” she grinned and winked
“My hero,” Harry muttered, carefully climbing the faintly squeaking ladder until he was near the top of the high ceiling. He held on with one hand, his jaw clenched, as he stretched the net out and very carefully caught a bauble and pulled it down to himself. He removed the floating charm and took a few steps down to hand Luna a bauble. He repeated this eight more times, looking a little annoyed at he gave Luna the tenth one.
“Why did you charm these to float in the first place, Luna?” Harry asked.
Luna carefully took the blue glass orb and put it away in a fancy wooden box, “I wanted to make them dance,” she said matter-of-factly.
Harry rolled his eyes, “Right, of course.” he huffed a sigh and climbed up for the eleventh, scooped it up and swung the net down to let Luna pull it out herself, while he leaned against the top rung.
“Thank you for helping, Harry,” Luna said, holding the green bauble between two hands.
Harry shrugged, lifting the net up to catch the last one. It had drifted the furthest and in order to get the net close enough he had to lean out and off to the side, holding onto the very bottom of the net’s long pole.
There was the tinkling sound of something glass falling onto the floor.
“Oh-!” Luna reached after the green ornament even as it quickly rolled out of reach.
“I’ve got it,” Ginny said, and let go of the ladder.
Without Ginny to hold the ladder in place, it immediately began to tilt. Harry jerked back trying to grab on to the top rung with both hands, his sudden weight shift made the ladder bounce off the wall filling the air with the sound of creaking wood scraping across stone.
“Watch out!” Ginny yelled.
And there was- if Harry had been of a mind to look for it- a slight push, that sent the ladder plummeting over too fast to be caught by a levitation spell.
Draco who had been reading, was now standing, his book thrown to the side, his wand falling from his hand as he reached up, grabbing hold of Harry as he fell towards him. Even with a lightening spell, they both ended up on the floor with the wind knocked out of them. The ladder bounced off Harry’s back and slid to the floor with a clatter.
Harry groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position with careful stiff movements.
Draco stared fixedly at the ceiling, a little frown and a faint flush on his face, “At your leisure, Potter.”
Ginny and Luna glanced at each other, sharing a look of relief that everything had worked out.
Harry nodded as he shoved the ladder over and got off Draco, kneeling beside him and rubbing his forehead as he offered Draco a hand to help him sit up.
Draco hesitated and then took Harry’s hand with a sigh, “Did you hit your head?”
Harry shook his head, “I’m fine,” he was looking Draco over, “Are you okay?”
“Other than being squashed by an oaf, yes,” Draco said.
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
Draco huffed and looked around, retrieving his book from where he had dropped it.
“You caught me,” Harry said softly.
The tops of Draco’s cheeks pinked, “So? Was I supposed to let you knock yourself unconscious?” he said it dismissively, turning away and pushing himself to his feet.
“Thank you,” Harry said just as quietly, looking slightly stunned.
Draco spared him a single nervous glance before sitting back in his chair and opening his book in front of his face so his expression was hidden, “You should get some bruise cream from Pomfrey.”
“I- yeah,” Harry said pushing himself to his feet and making his way toward the common room door. He paused to ask Ginny, “Do you still need help or-?”
Ginny furrowed her brow, dropping down and then jumping up into the air to grab hold of the bottom of the net, still floating half off the ground. She pulled it down and took the purple bauble out, “Nope, we’ve got it. Sorry about letting go of the ladder.”
Luna pulled herself out from under a couch with the green ornament, “You were wonderful Harry! You fell so gracefully, like a wounded duck.”
“Yeah, sure,” Harry said, wincing slightly as he pulled open the common room door and made his way out into the hall.
Luna tilted her head to one side, curling a strand of blond hair around her finger, “Do you suppose Harry was hurt worse than he said?”
Ginny looked over at Luna’s expression, reading it only as she could, before adding a bit loudly, “Hard to say. You know Harry, he never complains.”
There was a muffled swear behind them and then Draco pushed past looking furiously annoyed as he followed Harry outside.
Ginny grinned and cast a patronus. No sooner had it disappeared down the dorm hallway than Ron and Hermione came running out.
“How’d it go?” Ron asked.
“Did it work?” Hermione said at nearly the same time.
“I think it went very well,” Luna said airily.
Ginny nodded and told them everything that happened.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried look.
“Is Harry hurt?” Hermione asked.
“Nah,” Ginny said with a flip of her hand, “bruised a bit, sure, but that’s it. I cast a lighten weight charm on him, he practically bounced.”
“And Draco will look after him,” Luna said.
“It was adorable really,” a voice said sarcastically from behind them.
The group turned to where Blaise, Pansy and Theo were all sitting on one of the longer couches.
Pansy frowned and kicked Blaise lightly on the ankle, “It was cute.”
“Yes, Pansy,” Blaise said dryly, “You know what I mean.”
“Just tell them,” Theo said distractedly, his quill skittering across a foot of parchment that was nearly filled with his sharp small handwriting.
“We were wondering if you’d consider a different sort of tactic,” Pansy said.
Blaise smirked faintly, “A more Slytherin sort of plan.”
“A whot-?” Ron said.
Hermione said carefully, “What are you talking about?”
Pansy rolled her eyes dramatically, “Getting Draco together with your Boy wonder, of course.”
“It’s terribly obvious what you’re doing,” Blaise said.
Theo hummed in agreement, “Not subtle at all.”
“The Hufflepuffs have probably figured it out by now,” Pansy said.
“And…” Hermione quirked an eyebrow with a lopsided smile, “you want to help?”
“We want to see Draco happy too,” Pansy said, a little affronted.
Theo carefully wiped his quill off, picked up the parchment and held it out to them, “And we your need assistance to pull it off.”
🎈 He’s constantly fidgeting with the bell on your collar
🎈 Actually, SO MUCH JINGLING
🎈 His favorite name is sugar, followed closely by baby doll
🎈 Endless scritches on the back of your neck and hairline and jawline rubs. Anything to get his hands on your neck
🎈 He never makes it feel like he’s taking power from you
🎈 You’re always in his lap
🎈 Therefore, his big hands are always on your legs and hips
🎈 As gentle as he likes to be with his pet, during sex, he can’t help himself and pounds into you relentlessly
🎈 He especially likes to hold your collar when he takes you from behind
🎈 He loves getting praise about as much as you do. He takes such good care of his little pet, and you make sure he knows it
🎈 His aftercare always involves pulling you into his chest and forehead kisses. Sometimes, he even stays with you through the night
Donnie x ghost reader? She can walk through walls and she floats, nothing can
touch her, but she can touch others and pick up objects if she wants. She also
has a ghostly howl.
Aaaaaaaah that’s so cute!!
You didn’t know how it had happened, but
somehow, one morning you woke up and you weren’t the same. You couldn’t keep
your feet on the ground, and everyone seemed to walk through you. You thought, wished it was
some horrible dream. But it wasn’t. It was a nightmare you couldn’t wake up
The days stretched to weeks to months and
you found ways to pass the time, exploring the city of New York. You found
coffee shops tucked in the quaintest places, bookstores full of brand new
books. And you found in these places that you could interact with things.
Objects mostly. But if you tried hard enough, sometimes you could interact with
people. Some people, mostly animals and small children, could see you
regardless of if you were trying to be seen or not. And you had been told by a
little girl that you looked like an angel.
Nowadays, you were wandering the parts of
New York other people couldn’t dream of finding. Abandoned churches covered in
vines, old trees with initials carved in hearts, and now, a utopia underground.
It was amazing. Nothing you’d ever seen
before. There were gadgets and gizmos everywhere, and more pizza boxes than you
could ever dream to count. And one room, you found had quite the collection of
classic novels. So, seeing as no one was there, you grabbed one of them and
floated over the couch cross-legged and began to read.
It wasn’t for a few hours that you had
company, all of which could see you. You were oblivious, still so caught up in
the novel that you hadn’t noticed them come in.
“Ummm…” You looked up and met the eyes of a
green mutant something or another. Bright blue eyes and a confused expression. “What
are you, dudette?”
“I’m not really sure, to be honest.” You
answered. “I just kind of am.”
“Is that my book?” Asked the tallest of the
four. He was wearing a bright purple bandana and was covered in tech. He seemed
to scan you with his goggles.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just got bored, and I
can’t really interact with many things and so books are kind of-”
“N-no, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” He shook
“Why are you here?” The one in the blue
mask took a step forward and looked over you. “How did you find us?”
“When you spend a few months like this, you
find all sorts of places.”
“Fascinating…” the one with the purple mask
whispered as he examined his scans. “So you can interact with objects.”
“And you’re invisible to humans.”
“I’m invisible to everyone except animals
and small children.”
“Well, Mikey is both, so you’re covered.”
The big one in the red mask chuckled.
“Hey!” retorted the one you assumed was
“So, I’m sorry for barging in. I’ll just
“You don’t have to leave.” The one in the
blue mask said. “We uh, understand what it’s like to be alone.”
“So I can hang out here?”
“Yeah, bro!” Mikey said. “Wanna play Mario
“Do you really wanna get beat by a ghost?”
You laughed. The boys smiled as you flew off after Mikey.
“Hey.” You drifted into Donnie’s lab later
“Aah!” He jumped and dropped something made
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you.”
“I-it’s all right. I was actually kind of
hoping you would come in here.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“So I could ask you a few questions.” He
motioned to you. “About…what you are. For science.”
“Sure!” You hovered closer to his desk.
“Okay, so…” he pulled out a notebook and
pushed his glasses up his snout. “When did this happen?”
“Two months ago.”
“How did it happen?”
“I just kind of woke up like this. There
was no body or anything, it wasn’t a car crash…I’m not exactly sure how I ended
up like this.”
“Like, I can’t walk. I’ve tried to ground
myself, but I can’t. All I can do is float. I can touch objects, but it has to
be very deliberate. Anything I interact could fall right through me. Even
holding a book for a few hours took a lot of practice.”
“Mmhmm…” He hummed as his paper scratched
across the paper. “Can you touch living things?”
“It’s kind of hard, but…” You held up your
hand and waited for Donnie to look up and notice what you were doing. He slowly
raised a large green three-fingered hand to meet yours. You focused all of your
being into your fingers and palm, and pressed it against his. He shivered.
“You’re so cold. And tingly.”
“You know that feeling you get when your
foot falls asleep? I think I’m made of that.”
“Casper?” He picked up your reference
“I haven’t seen that movie in a very long
time.” You sighed. “I’m still working on electronics…”
“We have it. I could pop it in for you if
“Only if you watch it with me.”
There was a pause.
“You’ve gotta take a break sometime, right?
I think there’s more to you than meets the eye, Donatello.”
“Call me Donnie.”
“All right, Donnie. What do you say then?”
He smiled and nodded gently.
Weeks later, you had found that when the
brothers weren’t out on patrol, you often found yourself in Donnie’s lab. You
think it helped him to have company while he worked. And whether you were
talking to him or just floating in the corner of the room while reading his
books, he seemed to work better with you there than without.
You also nudged him to take care of himself
while he was busy, reminding him to drink water and take stretch breaks and get
to sleep at a reasonable time. In your short time here, you had helped him
function better than he ever had.
“How’re you doing today, Don?” You floated
in through the closed door and draped your ghostly arms around his shoulders.
He shuddered at the cold.
“G-great. How did you sleep?”
“I don’t.” you reminded him. He nodded.
“Oh right.” A small chuckle. “I keep
“Did finish Huckleberry
Finn though.” You set it on his desk. “Thanks for letting me
borrow it, by the way.”
“No problem.” He pointed to the back
corner, where he kept all of his books. “You can borrow anything you want.”
“Sweet thanks!” You floated back there and
rummaged through the shelf to find another book to read. The lair was so quiet
when the boys were asleep. It was the perfect time to get some reading done. “Ooh,
“So I have a question for you.”
“All right, shoot.” You floated back over
to him, book in hand. He stood up just as you were next to him and came very,
very close to stepping through you.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were right there.”
“You’re fine.” You looked up at him, the
closest you’d ever been to him. And with your half-foot of float, you were only
about half a foot from his face. God, he was tall. There were a few moments of
quiet before he caught his train of thought.
“So, are you sure you’re dead?”
“Well, I mean…I’m a ghost, so I
assumed I kind of must be.”
“I don’t think you are. I really don’t.”
Donnie sat back down and pulled up some diagrams on his computer. “I think you’re
trapped between two dimensions. Around the time of the Kraang invasion was when
this happened, right?”
“I think you got spliced with a blast of
interdimensional energy and it…it trapped you here and there simultaneously.”
“Okay.” You nodded, eyebrows drawing
together as you mulled over the things he was telling you. “So I’m not a ghost,
I’m just…whatever this is?”
“Yes, I think so.” He paused, looking at
you when he told you the next thing. The more important thing. Possibly the
most important thing he would ever tell you in the history of ever. “And I
think I can reverse it.”
“You know he’s in love with you, right?”
asked Mikey as you watched Donnie work from afar.
“What?” you blushed scarlet. “No, I don’t
“Nah, Mike’s right.” Raph nodded in
agreement. “All he ever does is think about you, work on a cure. He ain’t ever
done that before. He’s in love.”
“You can’t be serious. I’m just a ghost. I’m
not even real. Yet. I can’t even touch him…or hold him…”
“Maybe that’s why he’s working so hard.”
Mikey pointed out. You blushed even harder.
“You never know~” Mikey waggled his
eyebrows. You wanted to smack him.
The more you worked with Donnie, the more
you realized his brothers could be right about his feelings for you. You
started to notice little things here and there. Little smiles when he talked to
you, the change in the tone of his voice, little inside jokes that set him off.
And every day, you found yourself falling harder for the tall brainy turtle.
You knew it would be hard to love him, especially considering the fact that you
couldn’t touch him, couldn’t hug him, couldn’t kiss him without causing him to
get a chill. That’s what he got for falling in love with a ghost.
And so you haunted him for weeks that were
quickly turning into months, floating around his lab, making him coffee in the
early hours of the morning, and then pulling the blankets up around him at
night. You took care of him. You looked after him. And he thanked you for it
And then came the breakthrough.
He knew how to fix you. He knew how to
return you to normal. The construction of the machine only took a few days, and
then it was time.
“Okay, so when I turn it on, there’ll be a
jolt and then you’ll be normal again. Hopefully. If not, we’ll go back to the
drawing board and start over.”
“And what if it doesn’t work?” Leo asked.
Mikey and Raph were there too, waiting to see what would happen.
“It’ll work.” You said with certainty. “I
trust you.” Donnie’s heart raced.
“All right. Here goes.” His fingers shook
as he moved the controls and then, finally, one of his thick fingers pressed
You had the worst headache in the world,
you decided. How had you even gotten here? You had had the weirdest dream ever.
Four gigantic mutant turtles were living in a sewer, and…had you been a ghost?
Weird. Very weird.
You sat up in bed and looked around at your
apartment room. There were cobwebs everywhere and…was that snow
outside? Snow? In July? No.
This couldn’t be. You pulled your very dusty phone off of the charger and
looked at the date. December. No. Noooo. That couldn’t be right. It couldn’t
possibly be right. Had you just skipped six months of your
life? Had you gone into a coma? No. You couldn’t have, could you?
And yet, the more you thought about your
strange dream, the less and less it seemed like a dream and the more and more
it began to feel…real. Too
real. You unlocked your phone only to find literally hundreds and hundreds of
texts and emails from friends and family. It was like you had just disappeared.
But you knew there was something in between. Some place underground. A lair.
And four turtle brothers. Leo, Raph, Mikey, and…Donnie.
How could you have forgotten Donnie? Donnie
and his wonderful collection of books. Donnie and his knowledge of all things
nerd. Donnie and the bo staff. Donnie and the gigantic crush you had harbored
Your fingers opened your phone and dialed a
number. A number you had memorized just in case. Just in case you could ever
use a phone again. You dialed it and waited and waited and waited as it rang.
Hoping, praying he would pick up.
“Please please please…”
“H-hello?” a choked up voice that sounded
so different now that you actually had ears.
A loud gasp. “(Y/N)?!”
“You disappeared. I thought…I th-thought
you were gone. Where are you?”
“I woke up at my apartment.” You told him
your address. And then you waited and waited for him to finally knock on your
bedroom window. You didn’t even wait for him to clamber inside, hugging him as
he crouched on the fire escape. “It worked! It really worked! Thank you.”
“D-don’t mention it.” His voice was soft.
Remnants of tears were still trailing down his scaly cheeks. You reached up to
wipe them away.
“Shhhhh….” You shushed him as he started to
cry again, pulling him back into you. “It’s okay. I’m here now. It’s all right.”
“I’m sorry. I just…lost you.”
“Let’s go back to the lair, all right? Get
some pizza to celebrate? I’ve never been this hungry in my entire life.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Donnie smiled and
nodded. He took your hand and helped you out the window. You followed him down
through the sewers to the lair. God, it looked so different in real life. So
big and bright and colorful.
“Honeys, I’m home!” You called into the
solemn lair. The moping turtles sprang up to meet you. Immediately, Mikey swept
you up in a bear hug.
“Dudette, you’re not dead!”
“No, I’m not.” You laughed.
“Glad to have you here. Like, really here.”
“Glad to be here.”
“So Don, now that yer girlfriend’s real,
there better not be too much PDA ‘round here.” Raph smirked.
“G-girlfriend?” Donnie’s voice squeaked. “No,
I don’t…we’re not…”
“Do you want to be?” your voice was quiet.
You didn’t realize how tall he was until now. You couldn’t just float up to his
eye level anymore. You just had to look up at his towering form.
“Well, then. It’s settled. Boyfriend.” You
grabbed the tails of his mask and gently tugged until he was stooping over low
enough to kiss you. His lips were soft and sweet and perfect. When
you pulled apart he rested his forehead against yours.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been
waiting to do that.”
You pecked the corner of his lips, causing
him to blush.
You knew, as soon as you woke up, your next few days would
be Hell. As you lifted your head from the pillow, your brain swam with pain,
the feeling making you slightly dizzy as you groaned. Oh, how you regretted
getting caught in that storm now.
Your nose remained partially blocked when you rose from the
bed, making you groan before collapsing into the cold, wood-panel flooring. You
could sense your body temperature rising and a headache forming.
“Wow.” Shawn says looking you up and down slowly,
taking in your appearance. “Do a spin for me, Y/N.”
You blush and laugh at his request, “You want me
to do a spin?” You hold the hem of your dress and spin around 3 times, which
creates a breeze that makes the dress float high around you, “There you go.”
Dizzily, you lean towards the wall and put out your hand to steady yourself and
stop from falling over.
Shawn puts his arms around your waist and nuzzles
his head into your neck. You feel his hand brush over your bare back, as the
dress has a cut out section hidden there underneath your long straightened hair.
He breathes in your scent, and you just stand there for a while treasuring this
moment; before you have to leave to go to the party. He takes your hand and
your fingers intertwine perfectly. You step in-sync down the stairs and then
Shawn opens the door for you, “After you, beautiful.” He says grinning.
“Thank you.” You tell him, and then curtsy as a
joke. Shawn’s Jeep Wrangler is parked on the drive of his family house right in
front of you and you head towards it, walking quite carefully in your extremely
Shawn runs ahead of you, “Hold up, hold up!” He
shouts, and reaches out to open the car door for you. “Okay, now get in!” He
Again, you laugh out loud and try to climb as
gracefully as you can into the front seat of Shawn’s car. He walks around the
front of the car, gives you a little baby wave and gets in the driver’s seat.
Adjusting his seat and the car mirror, you ask him, “Why are you being like
this?” You question him curiously whilst still giggling.
“I’m only treating you the way that you deserve
to be treated.” Shawn responds, putting his hand on your thigh affectionately.
He then backs out of the drive impressively quickly and gets onto the road.
Shawn always seems to know just the right thing
to say. How does he do that? The whole journey there you both make jokes back
and forth to each other and Shawn exchanges flirtatious glances with you. He
pulls up to the house where the party is, and Shawn rapidly undoes his seatbelt
and jogs around the front of car before you realise what he’s doing.
People in cars arriving nearby are looking in
your car to see who has arrived, and Shawn opens your car door like a
chauffeur. You get out of the car, and laugh at Shawn once again. “I love you,
Shawn.” You say, and you put your hands on the sides of his face, lean in and
kiss him. With these heels on, you’re now just slightly shorter than him which
feels strange, but the kiss still holds the same feelings that it’s always had.
Both of you aren’t too big on public displays of affection, so the kiss only
lasts for a short time, and then Shawn wraps his arm around your waist and
walks you in to the party.
“Hey, Y/N!” You hear someone shouting from the
doorway of the house. It’s hard to see them in the partial darkness, but you
recognise the sound of their voice. It’s Matt: your old friend from school that
you haven’t seen for about 3 years.
Shawn takes his hand off of your waist which
enables you to run forward slightly and hug Matt. “Oh my God! I can’t believe
it! How are you?” You ask him happily.
Matt hasn’t changed one bit, and simply looking
at him makes you feel nostalgic of the long days spent at school and just
hanging out together along with the rest of your big group of friends. “I’m
good, actually, better now that I’ve finally seen you again.” He replies,
looking you up and down as Shawn did earlier.
“Hey, I’m Shawn.” Shawn holds out his hand as he
comes over to where you’re standing in the doorway. Matt shakes his hand,
“Y/N’s boyfriend.” He adds, trying to be subtle.
Looking shocked for a moment, Matt thinks hard
and then it looks as though something then clicks in his mind, “Wait… I know
you, I’ve seen your face before somewhere.” He tells Shawn.
Shawn smiles wryly to himself, “Um, maybe you saw
me performing somewhere or in a magazine?” Matt looks at Shawn, and you can see
the immense confusion as clear as day all over his face. “I’m Shawn Mendes.” He
explains but still, there’s no reaction from Matt and you can see Shawn now
becoming marginally infuriated. “I sing this song called Stitches? Or maybe you
know Treat You Better? Mercy? There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back?” He crosses his
arms and waits for a response.
“I’ve probably heard them before… but I don’t
know them off the top of my head, sorry.” Matt replies, laughing softly in an
attempt to break the awkward atmosphere that Shawn successfully created.
You take Shawn’s arm and move your head to
gesture that you should move away. “It was really nice seeing you, Matt.” You
say kindly, and you can feel his eyes still on you as you walk with Shawn to go
and get a drink.
“What the hell was that? How have you changed so
much in the last few minutes?” You ask him, raising your voice just a little
bit so he knows that you’re serious.
He gazes at you and looks quite guilty as he
shrugs, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Shawn tells you, “I guess
I’m a little… jealous.” He shrugs his shoulders and you’re stunned that he
actually admitted this.
It’s cute really, but he does this a bit too
often. Shawn just assumes that any guy you know wants to get with you, and he
gets jealous when people have known you for longer than he has – even though
your months so far dating have felt like forever. You can’t remember what it
was like not being with Shawn, and you want him to understand that.
Shawn pours drinks out for you both, and you
thank him with a smile. Someone calls out Shawn’s name from what sounds like
the corner of the room, “Y/N, is it alright if I go and talk to them?”
You laugh incredulously, “You don’t need to ask
me – do whatever you want to do. It’s cool.”
The moment Shawn walks away from you, a breeze
tickles your back and lifts your hair up slightly. It’s not a breeze from an
open window or door though. Someone brushed past you, and then turned their
head back swiftly to look at you.
“I didn’t realise it was you!” Matt looks
shocked, and he looks around cautiously to see if he can spot Shawn anywhere in
sight. You guess that when he can’t see him nearby, he thinks it’s now okay for
him to actually approach you and talk to you. He takes a big drink from his
cup, “So what’s up with your boyfriend then?” He smiles, which means that he
now just has the widest grin you’ve ever seen considering he was already
smiling before he smiled again.
You take the tiniest sip of your drink, “I
honestly have no idea, but he’s okay now don’t worry.” You reply, realising
that for some unknown reason you feel slightly uncomfortable. Out of habit, you
do exactly what you normally do in awkward situations: which is look down at
the ground, keep shifting your feet and alternating the leg that you put most
of your body weight on.
He’s still smiling. It’s a very big smile. “I wanted
to say this earlier, but I don’t think it was a good time as we weren’t alone.
But I truly believe, Y/N, that you are the most beautiful girl here and you
look amazing tonight.”
Matt is very confident – he always has been. When
you were younger and you were both very close friends, he used to tell you
which girls he liked and asked if you thought that they liked him back. If you
gave him an answer that even slightly hinted at a yes, he would go for it. Go
straight up to the girl and let her know his thoughts and feelings. He didn’t
care about rejection at all. He was just so brave and you admired that. You used
to dream it would be you one day he liked, but you stayed as and never faltered
from being the girl he asked for help from. You were never the target for his
love. One day, you thought his confidence may tone down a little bit, but it
seems that it has only increased with age as most things do.
“That’s very sweet of you to say, Matt.” You tell
him, and you know instantly that he has no impact on you now. If Shawn had said
that to you, you would have blushed. Hard. He may be trying to flirt, but you’re
not willing to be swept off of your feet by anyone else but Shawn for a very,
very long time.
Matt moves in closer, which makes you stiffen marginally.
You’re extremely wary of what he might do, especially considering the fact that
he’s been at this party for a lot longer than you have so he’s fairly drunk
You feel another breeze on your back, but this
time it’s so strong it feels more like a scratch than a tickle.
“Hey, whatever-your-name-is! I think you’ve
probably been talking to my girlfriend for long enough now.” Shawn states
firmly as he slides smoothly in between both of you thankfully. “I really fancy
ordering a pizza and watching Harry Potter at home right now.”
Subtly, you give him a sweet smile that’s only
for him. It shows you’re grateful that he’s back, that you never want him to
leave again, and that you would absolutely kill for a pizza right now and
watching Harry Potter sounds 10 times better than this party. “Speak to you
again soon, Matt.” You say kindly.
“Call me yeah?” Matt winks directly at you, and
you see Shawn’s jaw clench tightly. Surely he knows that I would never call
another guy (especially one I’ve known for practically my whole life) to talk
in that way?
Shawn puts his arm around you and pulls you in
gently, but in a way you know is purposeful to show Matt who’s superior. He
makes you feel safe, and you’d go anywhere with him.
Exactly as you were expecting, Shawn heads
towards the front door that you came in through not long ago. He still has his
drink in his hand though just as you do, so before you head out you both look
at each other with a knowing glance, and simultaneously down the rest of your
“Woah.” You say whilst clenching up your face, as
you finally taste how strong the drink is.
Shawn chuckles, “Sorry I forgot you had alcohol.
I just have water.”
You put down your cup on the side and playfully punch
his chest, “Ugh I hate you, Mendes.”
With an even bigger smile than Matt’s earlier, he
replies softly, “I love you too.”
If Marvel really wants to screw with our emotions they'll give us Peter picking up Thor's hammer
Okay picture this:
Peter Parker is standing alone in the living space of the Avengers compound, bouncing on his toes, waiting for the avengers to finish the meeting their having in the other room so he can talk to Stark about his current mission.
The hammer is perched in the center of the coffee table, Thor obviously not worried about leaving it in the other room since he knows it’s not going anywhere. Or so he thought.
Peter inches closer towards it, the sheer mystery of it holding his attention. He wonders if he should slip his phone out of his pocket and take a picture of the thing to send to Ned. His eyes dart around the room to make sure he’s alone before extending a single, cautious finger, just to be able to say he’s touched it.
Only, when he pokes it, it moves. So slightly Peter could swear he imagined it. But his heart’s beating faster, he has to know for sure. “There’s no way Mr. Stark wouldn’t trust me if I could walk up to him holding this”, he whispers to himself. So Peter steadies himself, and with a huge breath, wraps his palm around the handle. He tugs hard, expecting to feel resistance, but is met with none as the hammer swings up in his arm. He stumbles backwards into the couch, eyes wide, mouth agape, waiting for sirens to go off or something crazy like that.
Vision walks into the room, locking eyes with still wide eyed Peter. Vision lets out a quick “Oh, my” before immediately turing to float through the wall into the room where the avengers all sit.
Peter, panicked, decides that there’s no turning back now and positions himself so he’s ready to face them. He hears a mass of footsteps coming down the hall and a mumbled “this better be good, Vis” from Tony.
The Avengers all stop dead in their tracks, smacking into each other as they come to a halt in front of such a sight. Peter is sitting with his legs crossed, holding the hammer upright and resting his chin on it as if it were his fist and he was sitting through a boring class.
Thor’s face is plastered with a look of pure horror that only a god could muster. Tony is biting his lip, trying and pretty much failing to hold back a smile. Steve is giving Peter a very obvious beaming thumbs up. Wanda and Nat are smirking and raising their eyebrows at each other, silently saying “we told them so”. Sam is rolling his eyes profusely, huffing as he thinks to himself “Man, this kid gets all the attention. I made some sweet ass omelets for everyone this morning and do I get a thanks? No. But spider boy walks up in here and steals the show as always.”
The stunned silence stretches, and Peter nervously stammers, “I, uh, I’ll just put this do-”
Tony interrupts him with a hand. He crosses his arms, back straight, and says, “Dinner’s on me tonight, kid. Anything you want.”
Peter’s smile feels like it takes up his whole face as he shifts the hammer to his other hand and says, “Thank you, Mr. Stark! Um, how about we just order some pizzas for all of us? I’ll let Thor choose the toppings, he looks like he could use a win.” With that Thor finally closes his gaping mouth, Steve putting a consoling hand on his shoulder with the smallest glint of mockery in his eyes.
“Sure thing, kid”, Tony answers. “Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y., get me on the phone with Al’s Pizza, tell em we got a special occasion.”
or, kara’s idea doesn’t go as well as she’d like but better than she hoped
this is for the amazing awesome fantastic @theragingthespian who made a huge mistake in asking me to write anything what a nerd. but a deal is a deal, and i’ve only got 96500 words to go!
seemed a pretty swell idea when she came up with it, drunk on alien ale and
feeling warm and happy and in love with everyone. Winn had made an odd comment
about Alex not liking Lena, hurriedly attempting to fix his mistake by shrugging
and claiming it was okay because Kara wasn’t all that fond of Maggie. And
Kara—offended, drunk, and determined to prove Winn wrong—had slammed her fists
on the table, ignoring the disapproving look M’gann shot her way in response,
and spoke without thinking.
Hi hi there!!! Just wanted to write something fluffy and different to take a break from angst!! To the wonderful Nonny who sent this in, forgive me- I changed a couple of them to not all be in the shower… I started writing them in one sitting and this is what I saw, my apologies…