What if Harry Potter, the chosen one, had turned out to be a squib, how do you think history would have turned out differently?
It was Mrs. Figg who suspected first.
She noticed many things, sitting on her side of her fence with her cats chasing butterflies and nuzzling her ankles, Mundungus and the other watchers dropping by for tea now and then.
Mrs. Figg noticed that Petunia was a nosy bit of work with insecurities hanging from her every harsh angle. She noticed when Dudley learned the word MINE– the whole neighborhood noticed that one. She noticed that Vernon glared at owls.
She noticed that when Petunia gave Harry a truly horrendous haircut one year, it grew back in at a normal rate. Harry was uneven and weird-looking for ages, hiding under beanies when he could.
When Mrs. Figg had Harry over for carefully miserable afternoons of babysitting, she noticed nothing moved that shouldn’t. He didn’t accidentally make flowers out of fallen leaves, or levitate anything during tantrums, or turn toys funny colors.
Mrs. Figg called up her mother, interrupting the wizarding bridge game she was winning against the nursing home staff, and asked her how she had known, decades back, that her youngest daughter was a squib.
When Albus Dumbledore received Mrs. Figg’s letter he wrote back a polite thank you and then went to talk with Minerva McGonagall, who inhaled sharply in horror when he told her the news.
Finally, McGonagall gave a gathered sigh. “I suppose we can ask one of the wizarding families to homeschool him,” she said. “We can’t have the Boy Who Lived not knowing about his own world.”
“No, he’ll come to Hogwarts,” said Dumbledore.
“Hogwarts is not a place for–” Her voice fell. “–squibs, Albus.”
Dumbledore shook his head. “Harry must be taught.”
“Be taught what, Albus?”
But Dumbledore just sighed and offered her a lemon drop.
Years later, the owls and the letters came to 4 Privet Drive. The Dursleys ran, dragging Harry with them, and the letters and one stubborn gamekeeper followed– none of this would change with a magicless Harry.
When Hagrid asked Harry in that little cabin on that little rock in the middle of the sea if weird things always happened around him, Harry couldn’t tell him about vanishing glass and setting captive snakes free, about ending up somehow on the school roof, or growing his hair out overnight.
“Strange things always happen around you, don’ they?”
“Um,” said Harry, racking his brain. “Well… I live in a cupboard under the stairs…”
Harry could tell him about how snakes sometimes talked back, because that had never been Harry’s magic, but when he did Hagrid just blanched and changed the subject.
Hagrid held out hope, even against Dumbledore’s quiet warning explanations, until they made it to Ollivander’s Wands. Harry marveled at Diagon Alley, got his hands shaken in the Leaky, pressed his nose up against shop windows. Hagrid watched the scant boy– looked at James’s messy hair, Lily’s eyes, Harry’s own wandering gaze– and he wondered how this boy could be anything but magical.
In the wand shop, Ollivander said, “James Potter, yes… mahogany, eleven inches. Pliable. A powerful wand for Transfiguration.” He said, “And your mother, Lily… strong in Charms work, ten and… yes, ten and a quarter, willow, swishy.”
Harry picked up stick after wooden stick. They remained just that– wood with bits of feather or scale or hair. Harry wondered if the creatures who gave these offerings were still alive– if they were given or taken. What did it do to your wand when they died? He waved a maplewood wand (unicorn hair, eleven inches) and a gust from the door opening blew some receipts off the counter.
“Well, said Ollivander. “I think that’s as close as we’re likely to get.”
He sent them out with the maplewood. Hagrid bought Harry a snowy owl and a fudge sundae and tried not make it too obvious that these were condolence gifts. The next day the Prophet’s headlines read: The Boy Who Lived– A Squib? Various magical medical experts weighed in on how it might have happened. Fingers were pointed at childhood trauma, at his upbringing, at his family lineage.
Harry still met Ron on the train– Ron was still smudge-nosed and Harry still bought enough candy to share. When Molly had helped him through the platform entrance, her voice had been a little softer, a little more pitying– but it was still better than the laughter that had been in his aunt and uncle’s voices when they dropped him here to find a platform they didn’t think existed.
Hermione Granger dropped by their compartment, looking for Neville’s toad, but got distracted when she spotted Harry. “I’ve read about you! In my books, and in the paper,” she said. “You’re the Boy Who Lived, and you’re a squib.”
Harry sank down in his seat. Ron hid Scabbers under a candy wrapper.
“Squibs have never been allowed in Hogwarts,” Hermione announced. “According to Hogwarts, A History, squibs try to sneak in now and then– the furthest anyone’s ever gotten is to the Sorting Hat before they got found out.” At eleven, Hermione still believed in expulsion being worse than death. Her voice was thrumming with sympathetic horror.
“But they already found out about me,” Harry said, alarmed.
“It’s alright, mate,” said Ron. “You’re Harry Potter. Oy, Granger,” he added. “What’s this Hat? Fred and George were trying to sell me some story about having to fight a mountain troll to get your House…”
Harry sat back and watched the countryside rush by. Yes, he was Harry Potter– his aunt’s useless sister’s useless child, the boy in the lumpy hand-me-down sweaters who named the spiders who lived in his cupboard. And here, in new world, he was apparently useless too.
When they got to Hogwarts, Harry clenched his fists and stood in line with the other first years. He barely twitched at the ghosts or Peeves, just stared ahead and thought about how far he would get before they turned him around and sent him back to Vernon and Petunia.
They opened the Great Hall doors. They called the first years one by one. Harry clenched his teeth and walked up to the Hat when they called his name.
As he turned to sit down on the stool, he really caught sight of the Hall for the first time– the hovering candles, the big wooden tables, the black robes that swallowed the light. Translucent ghosts gossiped with the students beside them. The paintings on the far walls– were they moving?
Harry’s jaw had unclenched, falling open. His fists curled open, curving around the stool’s seat as he leaned forward to stare. If this was it, if this was as far as he’d get in this world, then he wanted to drink it all in. The candles were floating, in mid-air.
The Hat dropped down over his eyes and blocked out the light.
Well, said the dry voice that had been hollering House placements all night. What do we have here?
Ron had been begging for not-Slytherin. Draco from the robes shop had been scornful of Hufflepuff, desperate in his disdain. Neville had begged for Hufflepuff, sure he was not brave enough for Gryffindor.
Peter stares, watching them all a little blankly. By his side, Tony has his head in his hands. He’s been groaning for the past twenty seconds.
“So… you went on a ten-year murder spree where you joined a terror organisation of your own free will in order to kill Tony, who wasn’t even responsible for the death of your parents in the first place- and then decide that just Tony isn’t murderous enough for you, and go for the rest of his team for some reason, too?”
Across the room, Wanda bristles. “It wasn’t like-”
“And then your team leader let you on the team you were trying to murder? Almost immediately after the one single fight you helped them with?” Gamora interrupts. Her eyes are cold and dangerous.
Steve opens his mouth to defend himself, but Drax cuts in. “And you,” he gestures harshly at clint, “you were willing to abandon your family and get yourself arrested, just so you could involve yourself in a matter that did not concern you anyway?”
“You think I wanted to be arrested? That was all Tony-” Clint begins, but Drax roars, and Clint rears back, eyes wide and hand reaching for the bow at his hip.
“TONY STARK DID NOT FORCE YOU TO BREAK YOUR LAWS! I WAS PUT IN JAIL BECAUSE I FOUGHT FOR MY FAMILY, NOT-”
“Drax, stay calm. These people are breakable,” Gamora warns, although she is staring at them all as if she wants nothing better than to let Drax get himself worked up over them.
“You know, Tony has only been giving you his view on everything that happened,” Steve counters. He’s looking at Tony like… like he’s disappointed in him, and that’s enough to get Rocket yelling angrily.
“Oh, so you sayin’ you didn’t tear the team he invested his time, his love, his effort into, apart- all so you could save a guy that Tony had offered to rehabilitate in the first place anyway? Or what about the fact you didn’t tell him that your best bud murdered his parents? That a lie too?” He snarls, and on his shoulder, Groot’s arms are slowly growing, pricklier and heavier- he can feel the weight on his shoulders.
“I think everyone needs to calm down, here-” Sam begins, but Gamora silences him, knuckles cracking as she steps forward.
Sam, wisely, takes a step back.
“You do not get to talk- not when you chose to put your trust in a man you met for three seconds, whilst he was breaking into Tony’s compound, over the actual Avenger and team-mate himself,” she hisses, hands thrown up into the air as she turns to face all of them now.
“You sicken me. I may fight and argue and be frustrated with my team- but at the end of the day, they are still my family. They are still the people I would trust without a second thought,” she shoots a glare at Sam, “who I would always tell the truth to, even if it hurts,” Steve looked at the floor, jaw set in a grim line, “and who I would never, ever ask to be on the same team as a woman who subdued them to their worst fears and tried to kill them. I would rather die.”
She spat on the floor, and then turned away. “I am going back to the ship. You may continue your discussions if you must, but I am finished. I will only kill one of them if this continues.”
“That would be a shame,” Drax says quietly, his voice low and threatening.
Tony, who spent the majority of the conversation absolutely silent, speaks up at that point. “Hey! Drax used sarcasm!”
No one laughs. He goes back to holding his head in his hand.
Peter just looks slightly sick. His hand is wrapped very, very tightly around Tony’s.
“You know that post of text that Tony showed us a few weeks ago? He called it a… a me-me? With the breadsticks and the asshole date?” Rocket pipes up after a few seconds of silence, gun still spinning ominously in his fingers. “I think it’s time for us to shove Tony in our spaceship and say we have to go, right now, immediately.”
Despite everything, Tony lets a huff of laughter escape at that. Peter- seeming to suddenly snap out of his horrified trance- nods his head approvingly, beginning to tug on Tony’s hand. “Yes. I agree. Wonderful though this diplomatic meeting of teams was, I’m afraid we have urgent business to attend to. We have to… show Tony… something awesome.”
“Yes. LOVE, AFFECTION AND VALIDATION!” Drax roars again, curling an arm around Tony’s shoulders and placing the most violent and angry kiss possible on top of his hair.
“Later, losers!” Rocket calls out, sticking his middle finger up behind him and then turning to punch Tony’s thigh gently before scarpering back to the ship.
Groot hops down from Rocket and then latches on to Tony’s forearm, clambering up his arm until he was resting on Tony’s shoulder instead. Tony glances over at him and grins happily. He’s always had a bit of a soft spot for Groot.
“hey,” he whispers, as the tiny tree alien quickly began to grow a few flowers, and then plucked them off his hand and tucked them into Tony’s hair. “I am Groot,” he whispers right back in reply.
Tony smiles, rolling his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I know. Don’t worry about them- I left them behind a long time ago.”
Steve hears that. He looks at tony for a long time, his eyes a little sad and regretful.
Tony just stares right back, and then raises his eyebrows and shrugs, adjusting the beginning of the flower-crown Groot was making for him.
“Call me the next time it gets too much for you guys to handle,” he calls out after them, as Peter and Drax both steer him hurriedly back toward the ship and away from his old team.
Groot giggles on his shoulder, and then places another flower behind his ear. “I am Groot!”
“I agree,” Tony says, just as Peter nods his own approval, gently bumping their shoulders together. “Let’s go and play Space-Tag.”
Summary: A young man and a young woman run into one another on a Sunday morning at a coffee shop, both of them heartbroken, and rediscover what it means to love and be loved.
Bucky x Reader
Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this one for a bit. It’s basically the feel-good romance no one ever expected me to write (me included)
Bucky used to love Sunday mornings. They were meant for sleeping in, for curling against the soft, tender body that slept next to him.
They’d had five years of Sunday mornings, of her soft sighs in his ear as she stirred from her sleep, bright green eyes blinking sleepily up at him as he kissed her plush, pink lips. Five years of Sunday mornings, of making coffee in a pair of boxers; of her arms wrapping around him from behind, a soft cheek against his bare back. Five years of Sunday mornings, of sitting at the breakfast bar in their pajamas, her thumb wiping jelly off the corners of his mouth.
Summary: Y/N and Jughead take a long drive out of Riverdale for a road trip and discover their hidden feelings for each other
Warnings: swearing, slight smut, drinking
‘Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this’
We’d been driving for hours, we didn’t even know where we were going anymore, or what were running from. The sudden impulsive decision to get out of town and take a road trip was decided by Jughead. He had been distressed at school lately and said he had a lot of stuff going on in his head, and he needed to get away.
Me being the good friend I am, and caring a great deal for him, didn’t want him to be alone so I decided to make the offer on taking him away for a while.
Writting Prompt: Danny cries in his sleep, sometimes really loud. And screams. Once he even transform while sleeping. The problem is, he start to doing it when he fall asleep in class. Hope it's good enough to write
angst oh god what is with this phandom and angst okay here’s ur angst with a heavy dose of weird millennial humour because this bitch can’t angst without a metric fuck of comedy sprinkled all over the place
also I’m sick and wrote half of this in the middle of the night while feverish so like, I did my best
“OKAY THIS IS FINE.” Danny said aloud to the floor. He didn’t really intend the floor to be the recipient of his ire but it was where his face was currently planted so it would just have to ding darn diddly deal with it.
Danny had experienced his fair share of being stuck in awkward positions but this one had rivalled many of his top ten, and he hadn’t even been thrown across a room by a ghost to achieve it! Nope, he just fell out of bed.
One arm was flung out before him, the other awkwardly pulled behind his back, still twisted up in his bedsheets, along with his leg. Just the one leg, the other was hanging - in quite a remarkable display of inhuman dexterity - over his shoulder.
All it took was some gut wrenching, heart stopping, bile inducing nightmares. Nothing fancy really, just the visceral image of everyone he loved and cared about DYING from TOO MUCH FIRE right in front of his eyes as he watched helplessly. Yep.
“THIS IS FINE.” Danny said again, a little louder this time. The carpet smelled like feet, Danny decided maybe he should take his eating hole off the gross floor before he caught a foot fungus on his lip. He knew it was possible, it happened to Ricky Marsh once at camp.
Yeah Danny should REEEAAAALLY get his face off that carpet. Right now, yep. He was gonna get up at this very mome-
Jazz heard a loud snore come from Danny’s bedroom. He was supposed to be up half an hour ago, school started in ten minutes. But she knew he had a plate piled high with superhero shenanigans that kept him up at obnoxiously late hours nine nights out of ten. The bags under his eyes could hold all the homework he never got done, with extra space for his unfinished chores.
Jazz was fully prepared to sneak in and firmly tuck him into bed with ghost proof sheets, a lie, an excuse and at least three compromises balanced on her tongue ready to jump at any parent and/or teacher that wanted her brother out of the warm sanctuary of bed today. Then she heard his gentle snores twist into a devastatingly soul crushing little whimper.
Oh boy, that wasn’t good.
Jazz opened her brother’s bedroom door and quietly peered inside to find… no one. He wasn’t there. Typical ghost bullshi-
Jazz had almost closed the door when she heard it again, that tiny little whimper. Was he invisible? She thought to herself, barely acknowledging how fucking weird her life had gotten that that question came so naturally to her.
Jazz padded into the room and found that Danny had, somehow, managed to fall asleep on the floor beside his bed. One leg still hanging in the air via blanket sling, it was almost funny, until he screamed that is.
Jazz nearly jumped out of her spotty blue socks when a noise ripped out of her sleeping brother’s throat, a noise that honestly could have come from the cutting room floor of a horror flick that was deemed too terrifyingly violent to be shown on screens literally anywhere. His back was arched, his mouth wide, hands curled in on themselves, he almost looked as though he were convulsing.
It stopped suddenly, with a gasp and a jolt Danny woke. He didn’t shoot up or flail about, he just laid down on the floor, eyes blearily noticing that there was another person in the room. Jazz sat down by his side as he wiped his face, staring at the tears on his hands.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Danny glared at her.
“Sorry, standard question.” Jazz mumbled as she unhooked his foot from the clinging bedsheets. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Danny, still laying on the floor, swung his right arm around, it had gone numb and tingly, the kind of numb and tingly that really hecking hurt when he started moving it again, yeesh.
“I had this really gnarly dream,” he started as he massaged his arm, Jazz listened intently. “I ordered a sandwich without mayo but when I bit into it there was mayo like, EVERYWHERE and-”
Jazz dropped a pillow on his face.
“That was rude.” Danny’s muffled voice grumbled.
“If you don’t want to talk about it you can just say so instead of being an asshole.” Jazz huffed as she found a pair of jeans and a shirt that were Clean Enough and threw them at the pillow. “You were crying and screaming, I was WORRIED.”
Danny pulled the pillow and clothes away and looked at his sister, actually looked her in the face. Her eyebrows were pulled tight and she was gnawing on her bottom lip, she really did look worried. Danny sat up and fished a somewhat pungent binder from under his bed, Pariah’s Oath he really needed to do his laundry.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” he stared down at his hands, face suspiciously neutral.
“Okay.” Jazz’s voice was gentle, she wasn’t going to push it, she’d learned a long time ago that it always just made things worse. “That’s okay, just know you can always talk to me, alright?”
Danny stood up and stretched, joints cracking and popping in a way that made Jazz want to barf. He could feel his arm again, thank the Ancients.
“You say that now, but every time a new rocket model comes out-”
“Bye Danny.” Jazz fucked off faster than Johnny’s shadow at dawn, absolutely Not wanting to stick around for another geeky space rant. Danny’s shit eating grin followed her out the door until it clicked shut, suddenly dropping back into the deadass tired face of a student who was entirely convinced that consistent sleep schedules were a myth.
He was not okay, ooooh he was so not okay.
Falling asleep again had been a mistake, a GRAVE mista- no okay, no, that pun was just inappropriate. He’d just had not one, but TWO disgustingly detailed nightmares about Literally Everyone dying, death puns were OFF the table right now.
Regular puns were still on the cards though, he thought to himself as he plopped his Little Pocket Book of Puns on top of a deck of cards sitting on his desk. He was proud of that one, in fact he snapchatted it, his smug face squeezed into the corner of the shot by the words ‘passng chem is off the cards bt my puns arnt’. It was easy to fool people with photos, he only had to pull off one good smile and people thought he was fine.
The flood of horrified snapchats he received in return made him giddy. Everything from a two minute video of Valerie trying not to hurl to a picture of Dash’s middle finger. Danny grinned, his grin looked genuine, it was not.
“This is fine.” he lied.
Danny barely made it through the door before the bell went off, he celebrated his victory with a very brief and offensively outdated dance move before Tucker threw a pen at his head and the teacher told him to sit down before he hurt himself.
Danny’s goofy grin remained plastered onto his face as he sat next to Tucker, who was giving him the kind of look that was usually reserved for the weird surrealist internet videos Nathan always tagged him in on Facebook.
“You are like…” Tucker started, fiddling with the broken nib of his stylus. “Super hyper today what the fu-”
“Language, Foley.” the homeroom teacher deadpanned from behind his book.
“Sorry sir! But seriously what the fuck dude.” Tucker continued at a still very perceptible volume. The teacher sighed heavily.
“It’s cool I’m fine I just got like two hours of sleep and drank five coffees in ten minutes I think I can hear colours.” Danny’s eye twitched.
Tucker didn’t laugh, Danny was trying to be funny but it was like, twelve year old funny. He sighed and lowered his voice.
“You’re having nightmares again aren’t you.” Tucker stared through Danny’s plastic grin with serious eyes. “We talked about this Danny, I told you to STOP faking this shit with me. You know what happens when you don’t get enough sleep, you get really fucking weird.”
“Did you get my snapchat this morning?” Danny asked as though he hadn’t heard a single word his best friend had just said.
“Yes, it was awful and I hate you.” The jab had no bite, Tucker couldn’t stand seeing Danny like this, it was like some awful parody of his friend amped up to eleven. He didn’t bother trying to talk sense into him, sense was gone, sense was out the window, sense was on the next plane to god damn Timbuktu.
Danny’s giddiness didn’t let up a single inch throughout their first couple of morning classes. He had stupid jokes and shitty puns hidden up every sleeve in the building, and the tiniest little thing would set him off giggling. Star smacked a fly with a ruler, Danny literally fell off his chair laughing.
Mr Lancer gave Tucker permission to drag Danny out into the hallway to calm down. Tucker grimaced in apology as he dragged along a snorting Danny by the sleeve, the rest of the class having a good laugh of their own.
“Do you think he’s like, actually on drugs or something?” Tucker heard Paulina whisper not even remotely quietly as they left the room.
The moment the classroom door had closed, Tucker slammed Danny against the wall.
“DUDE! GET. A. GRIP.” Tucker was not even in the general vicinity of fucking around right now. Danny needed to chill his tits before he got into serious trouble, the last thing he needed was a detention lumped on top of the pile of reasons Danny’s life was a train wreck.
Danny clenched his teeth, his eyes were wide, too wide. Then his mouth curled up and a laugh squeezed its way through taught lips. Oh no, not again. Not on Tucker’s watch. Before the next giggle fit could get into full swing Tucker had pulled out his drink bottle, uncapped it, and dumped the entirety of its contents on Danny’s stupid guffawing head.
A cough and a splutter later and Danny was sitting on the floor, the stupid grin officially washed from his face.
“Can we talk like actual human beings now?” Tucker asked, the plastic water bottle thudding emptily on the ground.
“I’m not an ‘actual human being’. So no. I can’t.” Danny’s voice was short and clipped, his expression stony.
Tucker slumped to the floor next to his best friend, ignoring the puddle he was half sitting in. They sat in silence for a bit, listening to Mr Lancer’s muffled voice droning on about adverbs or something. A squeak from someone’s shoe echoed down the empty hall. A fluorescent light flickered. Danny winced.
“You wanna borrow my earphones? I’ve got some chill tunes if you need to like, shut everything out for a bit.” Tucker held the tangled cords out to Danny who promptly stuck them in his ears and buried his face in his arms. It was all just, just too much right now.
He threw his hands over his ears when the bell rang, Tucker put a gentle arm around his shoulder.
“C'mon, it’s about to get really loud out here.” he said quietly, taking Danny by the arm and leading him to their next class. It was history, they were watching a movie. Perfect. Tucker rolled up his jacket and put it on the desk in front of Danny.
“Try and sleep a bit, if you can. You can copy my notes later.”
Tucker was a good friend.
Danny put his head down, Tucker’s chill playlist still thrumming softly in his ears. He didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to see everyone die again, but his eyes could barely stay open. He read somewhere online that just laying down and resting was still good for you, even if he didn’t sleep he could still get some energy back at least, maybe.
He was out like a light the moment his head hit Tucker’s jacket.
The dream was never the same. Every time it started as just a regular weird ass dream, he was at the Nasty Burger, but he was sitting at his kitchen table. His friends were there, so was some guy he’d never met, they were talking about monster trucks or… something. The guy he didn’t know was showing him a song he wrote, it was gentle and calm, Danny liked it.
That was when the Guys in White showed up. They’d been there before, but not every time. Danny remembered the last dream he had, vaguely, he didn’t know he was dreaming now, but he knew what was going to happen next.
“RUN!” he tried to scream, but his voice came out strangled and quiet. Sam and Tucker kept chatting, they couldn’t see the danger, the strange guy started playing a different song, he had an acoustic guitar now and was on a stage that wasn’t there before.
The Guys in White aimed their ectoguns, knocking off shots around the entire Nasty Burger, Valerie collapsed behind the counter, had she always been there? Jazz was next, she was reading a book on the lounge that had definitely been there the whole time. Danny kept trying to scream, but his throat just couldn’t make anything more than a strangled rasping noise.
Sam and Tucker collapsed before him, the music changed again, the guy on the stage had a smoking hole in his chest, he was playing a cello now. The music was calm, soft and gentle, it hadn’t stopped during the shooting. The GIW agent at the head of the group turned to Danny, face splitting into an evil grin, flaming hair licking at his temples, it wasn’t a GIW agent any more. It had never been a GIW agent.
Danny tried to transform, he needed to save them, they were dead but he NEEDED to save them, if he could go ghost, if he could change he could fix this. His core felt so far away, the cold chill within him just JUST out of his grasp. Why couldn’t he change? WHY COULDN’T HE CHANGE?
Tucker sat at his desk in the dark classroom, taking halfassed notes about… something something president Washington. Hadn’t they already covered this? A flash at the edge of his vision pulled his tired gaze over to the sleeping mess beside him. Danny made a noise, a whimper? It sounded like he was trying to say something.
“Ru… ru-” Danny muttered, voice broken and, oh god he sounded so terrified.
Tucker’s heart splintered into tiny little pieces, and those tiny pieces shattered until his heart was basically just a pile of powder, really sad and devastated powder. Concentrated melancholy, in powder form. He nudged Danny.
“Danny, Danny wake up. Dude you’re talking in your sleep, WAKE UP.” Tucker was super worried, like beyond overprotective mother worried, if Danny said something incriminating in his sleep, if he said something about PHANTOM-
“Gotta… go-” a strand of silver began to creep through Danny’s dark hair.
Tucker shook Danny as violently as he subtly could, he needed to wake up. He needed to wake the fuck up right the fuck right NOW. FUCK. It was panic time, shit was getting dangerously identity revealing up in here and Tucker had to do something about it.
More silver was weaving through Danny’s hair, flickers of a dark, skin tight costume appearing for only the briefest of anxiety inducing moments. They were sitting in the back corner of the room, no one had noticed that anything was wrong yet, but someone would. Someone would notice SOON if Tucker couldn’t get Danny to wAKE THE HECKING FUCK HELL UP.
“Danny I swear to god if you don’t wake up I’m going to kill the rest of you. WAKE. UP.” How was Tucker supposed to wake him up without drawing attention to- oh good lordy fucK HIS HAIR.
Tucker pulled Danny’s hood over his head as quickly as he could nearly half a second after a flash of white overtook his entire scalp. Had anyone noticed?? Tucker glanced around the room, nobody was looking, thank christ Wes wasn’t in this class.
Tucker tucked the white strands into the hood as best he could manage before texting Sam as fast as his fingers would allow.
Sam was in the middle of copying some crap about photosynthesis that she already knew when she felt her phone buzz. It was from Tucker, and if his spelling was anything to go by, he was in trouble.
Sam got the gist.
Pretending she was about to vomit everywhere was an easy way out of the classroom, and from there it was just a quick run to the fire alarm. It wasn’t the first time Sam had pulled off a fake emergency, she smashed the glass and hit the button with no hesitation, fuck the consequences. From there she just had to figure out where Danny and Tucker were, they all had copies of each other’s classes in case of just such emergencies.
History, they had history. She knew which room that was.
Sam took off running, boots thundering through the crowds of students filtering out of their classrooms. Sam could barely hear the alarm over the sound of her heart beat thudding in her ears, she didn’t have time to panic and worry, something was wrong and the most important thing right now was finding out what it was and if her friends were okay.
Someone noticed her through the crowd though. As she smashed through a group of kids coming out of a maths class, one guy caught her gaze, one guy decided to follow. Jesus shit she did NOT have the time for this.
Sam detoured down a seperate hallway, the tall redhead on her tail easily keeping pace, why couldn’t he just mind his own god damn business for once and, you know what? Sam thought, FUCK IT.
Another detour into an empty classroom and she had him. Bursting through the door after her, Wes looked around fervently, expecting to find Danny in some kind of juicy compromising situation. What he got was a surprise boot to the gut and he hit the deck like a sack of bricks.
Sam didn’t waste a second before bolting from the room, Wes had already taken up enough of her precious time.
Wes coughed and wheezed and tried to drag a breath into his aching abdomen, she’d clocked him a damn heavy blow and his body was not cooperating until it had a good few moments to recover from Whatever The Fuck Just Happened.
Damn it he was so close!
“Alright everyone, out onto the parking lot, like we do literally every other week.” The history teacher droned, his voice dry. He didn’t even bother making sure everyone left the room before walking out himself, it was probably a ghost attack anyway. These things lost their sense of urgency after the last fifty billion times, the only reason he didn’t make everyone get back into their seats was for legal reasons and honestly, he could really use the smoke break.
Tucker made a show of getting up to leave, but once he and Danny were the only two left he immediately dropped his shit and whammo’d his fists down on Danny’s desk.
“WAKE UP!” He yelled as Sam slid haphazardly into the room, clocking her hip on the teacher’s desk as she failed to reign in her momentum. She struggled with her footing for a moment before catching herself and racing up to the back of the class.
“Is he okay? What’s happening??” she asked, breathlessly.
Tucker lifted the hood from Danny’s bright-ass silvery hair.
“He’s transforming in his sleep and I can’t get him to wake up.” Tucker rushed out in one breath before grabbing Danny by the shoulders. “WAKE. UP. WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!!” Tucker screamed while shaking him with about as much tenderness as an irate Skulker on illegal performance enhancing ghost drugs. Finally, it was enough.
Danny jolted roughly, spasmed almost, and opened his fluorescent green eyes. Sam and Tucker took a quick step back in case he lashed out, but he didn’t. Danny’s hands gripped at the table hard enough to leave gouges in the sharpie-graffiti stained surface as his breath came out laboured and rasping. Tears smeared across his cheeks and dripped from his nose and chin.
He blinked, hard, before finally raising his head from the desk, looking remarkably disoriented. He was still flickering in and out of ghost form, disappearing from view entirely a few times as well, but it was slowing down as he took a few deep, shuddering breaths. Soon enough he was calm enough to stick to one form, human fortunately.
Sam breathed out a sigh and sat heavily on the nearest chair. He was okay and god she needed to sit down and catch the breath she’d left behind in science class.
Tucker sat beside Danny - who was now vigorously rubbing at his face - and took back his earphones, Sam could hear something that sounded like a cello playing through the small speakers
Tucker got through maybe the first two syllables of the standard 'are you okay?’ when he was abruptly cut off by a mildly lisping giggle.
Wes stood half through the doorway, phone out and trained on Danny’s previously unstable form. He looked a little pale and seemed to be having trouble breathing but that didn’t stop a wide shit eating grin from stretching across his freckled cheeks.
“Gotcha.” he sneered before turning on his heel and fleeing in unbridled glee.
Sam had recovered quickly from her previous run, she was on him like the Box Ghost on a roll of bubble wrap. Tucker heard the pounding of two sets of feet followed by a loud THUD, a squeal, and then what sounded suspiciously like a phone being heavily stomped on by a very firmly placed boot. The groaning came after that, punctuated with some extremely foul language that may have been spluttered through a bleeding nose and/or lip.
Sam came back into the room with a crushed phone in one hand and bloody knuckles on the other. She wasn’t dicking around, not today.
“You okay Danny?” she asked, getting only a tired glare in response. “Sorry, standard question.”
Sam picked up Danny’s backpack and put her hand out for him to take, he grasped it gratefully and she pulled him up from his chair as Tucker wound an arm around his waist. With the support of the two actual greatest people in the whole damn world, Danny walked out of the school and into the parking lot where an exasperated principal Ishiyama was counting heads and calling names.
“Equal Rites! What were you three still doing inside? Get into your- Mr Fenton are you alright?” Mr Lancer’s angry stride softened into a quick jog, concern weaving it’s way through his face at the sight of Danny’s red eyes and wet cheeks.
“He uh, had a head on collision with Wes on our way out.” said Sam, like a liar. “Took a corner too fast and copped a hit to the nose so his eyes got all teary, but he’s okay.”
“Wes might need a little help though.” Tucker added on. “We offered but he’s pretty much convinced we just rammed him on purpose and he threatened to tell everyone we beat him up sooo we kinda just left him on the floor.”
Lancer rubbed at his brow, exasperated. He did NOT have the time for Wes shenanigans. He took a quick look at Danny’s face, checking for any bleeding, satisfied when he could find none he sent the three on their way to get their names marked off before he headed back to the school building to find Wes.
“Thanks.” Danny squeezed Sam and Tucker tenderly, never wanting to let them go. He was so glad they were here, he was so glad they were alive.
“Sleepover at my place tonight.” Tucker declared. “No exceptions, there’s gonna be cuddle piles and maybe a pillow fort, but definitely lots of these.” he gave Danny a big ol’ smooch on the forehead and pulled him in for a tight hug. “You’re gonna be fine man, you’ll be okay.”
Sam jumped on and threw her arms around both her boys, pressing her lips against Danny’s cheek.
“We’re not going anywhere, okay? We’re gonna sleep right beside you and tell those fucking nightmares to fuck right off, just like last time.” Sam gave him a hearty thump on the back that might have knocked over a regular human, but Danny barely shifted.
What in Ring and Crown’s name did he ever do to deserve these two.
That night after a coma inducing amount of junk food and soft drink Danny passed out smushed between Sam and Tuck in what was pretty much the most affectionate and down right adorable Danny Sandwich either of them had ever made.
He dreamed of the three of them beating the shit out of Dan with Fenton Anti-Creep Sticks. He hadn’t slept so well in years.
The Night She Took (My Breath Away) SMUT (NSFW 18+)
A/N: Hi guys. I have no idea where is came from but here it is. The titles is from this song I Don’t Know Her Name by Bad Boy Blue and I think the lyrics are perfect for this song. Also, idfc by Blackbear helped me with the smut. Thank you thank you thank you to @writing-obrien for helping with this. She’s such a lifesaver, She’s always there to jump in and take over.
Warning: SMUTTT, Slight alcohol abuse(I mean their drunk so), mentions for drugs
Author: @dumbass-stilinski Rating: NSFW 18+ Pairing: Dylan O’Brien/Reader Words: 4,170 AN: This was an anon request for a Soulmate AU where you didn’t see colors until you met your soulmate. I hope I did this justice because Soulmate AU’s are my FAVORITE. Love ya’ll, let me know what you think!
Title taken from Halsey’s Colors. The Veselka and Space Billiards are real places in NYC. You’re welcome.
If there was anything you wanted more in life, it was to meet your soulmate. As strange as it sounds, meeting your soulmate was a top priority in everyone’s life, because you needed to meet them in order to see color. The world was just a drab mixture of blacks and greys before that. Your mother had explained it to you once when you were small, that color would wash over your vision slowly, dull and drab, but still there. It was only when you got to know them more that the colors would become brighter, streaks of red and blue and yellow lighting up the world in full HD.
a/n: title is part of title of a sandra bullock movie but i used it as lyrics from lotus flower bomb by wale, which i recommend u start to play during the sexy time at the end ok. i know it’s barely still valentine’s day but I WROTE THIS all in one day it’s been a wild ride. i wanted to get this up ASAP but i’m messy and wanted to write one more sex scene i’m sorry buds but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!!!!!!!
“Are you ready, babe?” You peer into the mirror, adjusting the clasp on your necklace. The small heart-shaped garnet glints in the light and your heart flutters, remembering Daveed gifting it to you just this morning.
“Just a second,” he shouts from his bedroom. “I can’t get this fucking tie on straight!”
You snicker, tucking your lipstick into your small clutch. “Come out here and I’ll do it for you.”
Daveed grunts and shuffles out into the living room with his suit jacket draped over one arm and a sour look on his face.
“Why are you pouting?” You ask, fingers deftly untying the crooked knot and starting over again.
“I’m too old to not know how to tie my own tie,” he huffs, shoving one hand into the pockets of his dress pants.
Summary: You hate a lot of things about Jeon Jungkook; you hate his arrogance, his reputation, and his pet name for you to name a few. But most of all, you hate how right it feels for you to fall into his arms, and how easy it is to fall for him. Word Count: 10,764 Genre: fuckboy!Jungkook, college au, hate to lust to… A/N: Completely inspired by this vine that I saw months ago that hasn’t left me alone since. Bonus points to those who notice the line of the song in the fic. Extra bonus points to those who recognize the Hamilton reference
If you were being completely honest, your issue with Jeon Jungkook began years before university.
You’d grown up close to each other, his house was right across from yours but you’d hated him from the moment you met in primary school. He’d joined you and your friends in a game of truth or dare during recess, and his dare for you had been to race him from one end of the playground to the other. You had tripped, cutting your knees open but he’d continued running, winning before realizing you weren’t behind him anymore. Only by that time, the teacher had gotten to you and you’d spent the rest of primary school glaring at Jungkook whenever he was in your sights, childishly blaming him for your scars.
Of course, you didn’t hold that grudge still. Your first year of university had just started, and it would be petty and pathetic of you to still hate him for that reason. But Jungkook had given you several more reasons to hate him throughout your years of schooling.
You’d watched throughout middle and high school as Jungkook grew from a cheeky, cocky kid, into an even cockier young man. He’d never cared much for his grades, choosing instead to throw parties with his friends, to ditch class occasionally, and rile up any girls he chose. You stayed away from him, attending different parties and sticking with your small group of friends, and by the second year of high school Jungkook became one of the most well known players of the town.
hoseok, with as wild and open as he can be, is someone that romantically needs familiarity,,,,,,,like he’s the classic case of “oh no im in love with my best friend”
except he’s really good at hiding it from other members and people because yeah he initiates skinship with you, throws his hand around your shoulder when you’re showing him something on your phone, ruffles your hair, tells you you look cute when you wear something new or cut your hair, but hoseok is like this with literally everyone so you never know whose special to him ,,,,,,in that way
but hoseok plans his confession,,,,he doesn’t fall into his feelings headfirst like jimin or get straight to the point like yoongi,,,,,,he takes the time to learn what you like and who you are as a friend and then,,,,,when he feels like it’s right
he asks you out and it feels like a shock,,,,because you?? hoseok chose ,,,,,,,you??
and it’s not secret that everyone always makes up assumptions about hoseok’s love life because with a personality so bright and so,,,,,hot,,,,,there’s got to be a long list of people willing to do hoseok’s every bidding
but here he is, standing in front of you with flowers on a saturday night and he wants you,,,,,,,to go on a date with him
and it’s a date that seems almost perfectly catered to you. hoseok remembers that movie you wanted to see,,,,,,he remembers that you like popcorn a certain way even if he doesn’t like it like that,,,,,,he knows that you always pick seats towards the middle of the row,,,,,,he gives you his jacket because the theater is cold
and after he knows what restaurant you’ve been dying to try,,,,,he picked a theater close to it,,,,,,he points out that he likes how you look in the lighting and that afterwords you guys should take a photo together to remember this day
when the waiter takes your order hoseok asks if the dish you’re getting has anything that you might get sick from and it’s so considerate?????
but that’s hoseok and ,,,,,,,he knows,,,,,,you,,,,,,he knows your quirks and habits and what you like and don’t like,,,,,,,,,,
and when he’s walking you home,,,,,,hoseok asks you to close your eyes for a moment. he wants to give you a gift
and so you do and you feel something drop into your hands and quietly you ask if you can open your eyes but he says,,,no there’s one more thing,,,,,,,
and that’s when you feel his hand on your cheek, gentle and delicate,,,,,,his warm breath and how he smells really good up close,,,,,,
“can i?” he asks for permission, just like a gentlemen and when you nod he kisses you with such softness???? such,,,,,,restraint because you can feel a chill go down your spine and his almost at the same time
and hoseok wouldn’t want to be rude and take it to far on the first date but if you grab him, open your eyes and ask him to kiss you again well,,,,,,
then hoseok takes a hold of your waist, lets you tangle your fingers in his hair and he kisses you the way he’s been dreaming of kissing you for soooooo long and you can see his restraint is broken,,,,and your lips are both going to be swollen,,,,,but it doesn’t matter because
now hoseok knows another thing about you: you,,,,get weak in the knees for his lips hehe
and hoseok is such a charmer,,,,,you get home and you’re still giddy over everything and you get a text that just reads “my angel, goodnight~”
and just that makes you fall over onto your bed with hearts in your eyes because,,,,,,,,,,oh god you’ve liked hoseok for so long and finally,,,,finally he’s shown you that you’re,,,,the one he likes too
but hoseok has a bad habit of being selfless and you learn this over the course of your dates where sure you two will do things you like,,,,,,,but you never hear hoseok as much as mention what he wants to do
so that’s why you always ask hoseok that instead of doing something for yourself or whatever how about you two do something new???
and hoseok loves this,,,,,because hoseok likes going out and being active and you guys throw away the notion that you have to stick to what you know to have fun
like sure why not go to the new amusement park, get scared on the rides together and scream your lungs out while holding hands????? a new rollerskating rink is open,,,,,can either of you roller skate????? what does it matter! you have each other!!! a cafe just got opened and they have raccoons??? ok hoseok might be a little frightened but he wants to go and wow now you guys get to tell everyone in bts you petted a raccoon named sylvester like,,,,,,,life is for living so why not do it together with the person you trust the most
and hoseok every now and then will pull out the romantic,,,,picnic by han river, cuddling under the stars thing that you like but you always make sure to set up a nice date at the practice studio where you and hoseok put on random music and dance around while no one else is there
namjoon once walked in on you guys dancing and hoseok was doing a handstand while you were holding his ankles and namjoon was like,,,,,,,,,ok,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,im out
and you and hoseok were like,,,,,,we might have scarred him,,,,,oh well
but what hoseok is really the best at,,,,i mean he’s the best at everything, but what he does that no one else has ever done for you is he supports you with his entire heart.
he never has doubts about your dreams and he never makes you feel like something is impossible. he trusts your decisions and gives his wholehearted love to you,,,,,,,
if you have a dream, hoseok shares that dream with you. that never changes about him
even if everyone else tells you you’re pushing it, even if they’re your family or close friends, hoseok will tell you with all his honesty that he thinks you can achieve anything
he’s always smiling, arms open to hold you, in your times of needs and that kind of emotional support is something that isn’t common. not the the level of hoseok
and sure he worries about your safety and well-being but he knows your potential and he does everything for you to know it too,,,,,,like how can somebody embody the word positive - idk but hoseok does
and being around him never makes you feel weaker or discouraged because hoseok respects you,,,,,,,,and wants you to succeed
he puts you before himself and it’s so lovely to have someone whose first thought when you tell them you want to try something is “do it! ill be behind you, supporting you the whole way!”
the sad part is,,,,,,hoseok fails to support himself the way he supports others but that’s ok because now he has you!!!!
people see him for his smile, his athleticism, his never ending cheer but hoseok is honestly hard on himself. and you catch it in how he refers to himself as “ugly” or “unwanted”,,,sure he might say it jokingly but you know better
and when you’re alone, you can see the darkness the festers inside of him sometimes and that’s when you tell him how much he means to you. how you’re not joking when you tell him he’s the sun,,,,,he’s everything warm,,,,,,he’s kind and handsome and so so so so talented and that his family, his friends, and you are so proud that he’s here. all that he’s achieved and more
and hoseok cries sure ,,,,,, but when you give him that comfort and that assurance he just holds you so tightly because you are everything precious to him and he is everything precious to you
and with each other you can really do anything,,,,,,,
and WOW that WAS EMOTIONAL,,,,,,but seriously as hoseok’s significant other you have to give him all this love because he deserves it. buckets and buckets of love. but yes on to the cute parts of boyfriend!hoseok
he loves giving you compliments and cheesy-gooey-lovely nicknames,,,,,,,,,,he loves it so much every damn week your name in his phone changes to something cute and sugary followed by every heart emoji avilable
and jungkook was like “hoseok, i want to call you s/o what’s their name in your phone?” and when hoseok said it out loud jungkook was like u know what nvm im not calling some named honey bunny all that is my heart -______-
you once played a trick and hoseok was like whats my name in your phone!!!! and you were like oh it’s just hoseok and he got all pouty and sulked and asked hoW could you do that to him
but you were like baby im joking it’s ‘prince of my heart, i love you 2 the moon and back’
hoseok had literally lighted up like a christmas tree and pulled you into his lap to give you eskimo kisses and tickle your sides for tricking him but he was smiling the whole time,,,,,,,,
he really likes it when you tell him about your day and you get to something frustrating and you get all cutely animated and he’s just grinning and you’re like!!!!!!!! it’s not funny
and hoseok is like no no it’s not,,,,,,you’re just so adorable i can’t help myself
and you hit him playfully but he catches your hand and kisses it you’re like rolling your eyes,,,,,,but it’s so sweet
but seriously hoseok loves when you’re open and truthful with him,,,,,,,communication is everything to him
to the point that you two can be sitting in silence, you’re in between his legs with your head on his chest texting on your phone
and he’ll just lean to whisper in your ear that right now, he loves you so much like it’s random and whatever but he just has the need to say it
knows you like a specific kind of cologne on him so he carries it with him everywhere,,,,,,even if he’s far away from you he has it with him
knows your takeout order by heart
you know his by hear too
yoongi: this is the epitome of love, knowing that your s/o wants menu number 4 on sundays and menu number 2 on mondays.
hoseok and u: can’t tell if yoongi is being sarcastic but thanks yoongi
hoseok tells you about how he really just wants to make his mom proud so sometimes when he’s practicing you take videos and send them to her
and hoseok finds out and is like!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! why!!!!!!!! and you’re like “because your mom said she likes seeing you dance!!!!!”
and hoseok is like,,,,,,,,,heart shattering because you’re so cute,,,,,how are you so damn cute
takes pics of pretty things he sees on tour and is like “reminds me of you!”
loves to buy things for you,,,,,,like you’ll be like don’t i don’t need anything!!! but he has an impulse to spoil you,,,,,that’s just how he is hehe
looks super hot coming back from practice,,,you know wet hair from sweating and low hanging tank top and he knows you’re into it so he’ll send you selfies in the mirror and you’re like !!!!! don’t tease me jung hoseok
and he’s just like,,,,,,wish you were here ;)))
but intimacy with hoseok is really just again about trust and being there for one and other and hoseok has the capability to be so gentle and loving when you need him to make you feel good because the day has been shitty and whatnot
but hoseok can also snap,,,,,and become this sensual,,,pleasure above all person with kisses that burn into your skin and a grip so hard and so needing that it makes your head spin
but like anything, he puts you first and sometimes you seriously have to flip him over and be like “ok, my turn - no no no hoseok stay down”
likes it when you wear his accessories more than his clothing (because you’re better without the clothing cough i didn’t say that) but he thinks it’s cute when you wear like a bracelet of his or that time you stole the keychain off his bag
and it was the keychain of the hiphop monster version of jin and you were like hehe so cute but hoseok was like ,,,,,here take this one instead
and traded that jin version for his and you were like you’re right,,,i should carry you my boyfriend around with me instead
hoseok,,,,blushing,,,,,,,,,,but also smiling because being called your boyfriend makes him so happy
concentrates when watching dance videos and his mouth is always open, tongue peeking out and you’re like dammit hoseok and he’s like huh
and you’re like ,,,,,,,,,,,what no i didn’t say anything and he’s still eyes glued to the screen like uhuh and you’re just like seriously what how is he so hot he’s literally not doing anything and im turned on????
hoseok’s magic wooo
yoongi is especially fond of you for taking care of hoseok and he won’t admit it but you guys are his favorite couple and when you get all pda and soft if jungkook opens his mouth yoongi shoves some candy into it and he’s like “let hoseok have this - do you understand me?”
you lay side by side with him when he’s tired and falling half asleep
and he’s at this stage where he’s just mumbling his answer and you’re just ever so quietly like hoseok,,,,,,,,are you made of stars,,,,,how can you be so bright
and he mumbles and cuddles his head into your neck
and you hold him and you think he didn’t hear you but the next morning hoseok hums to himself about him?? made of stars??? if that’s true,,,,,,you’re made of gold
and you overhear him and blush like i,,,,,,,im gonna go take a shower
hoseok: ok ill come with you!!!!
hoseok scribbles lyric ideas down on random scraps of paper that he can forget about but you collect them and tape them up in your room and when hoseok sees he’s like ???? you keep them
and you’re like shrugging and telling him you love reading what he writs
and hoseok touches the paper and looks at you and you’re just standing there smiling and hoseok is like “i,,,,,i love you so much you know that right?”
you: yes you’ve said like the 53rd time today. not that im complaining i love hearing it!
hoseok the type to buy you three bouquets of flowers so big that he can’t see in front of him when he’s walking down the street tbh,,,,,,,,,,
also last but not least,,,when hoseok wears glasses and is reading or at the cafe with you it literally takes all your might not to kiss him so hard because he looks SOOO CUTE
6: “Marry me” (part 2 from the 5/6 request, also andreil!)
It takes 4 months and 2 weeks to organize Matt’s proposal to Dan.
Neil knows because he’s been pretending to understand most of what Matt says to him for 4 months and 2 weeks.
It’s not that he’s not happy for them, it’s just that being told to celebrate love feels like being told to celebrate the way the world turns, or the gravity that continues to pin us like the bar on a rollercoaster seat. Neil celebrates love by staying alive to see it. He celebrates it by keeping it.
He looks at prospective rings and says they’re fine over and over again. He dutifully tells Dan nothing even when she asks outright. He answers the phone when Matt calls him in a panic at midnight and says “what if she says no” so many times that Neil hands the phone to Nicky.
It does make him think though, about Andrew. Without meaning to.
He doesn’t think of it as marriage in his head (to Neil, marriage has always been something that swallows you like quick sand). Tying himself to Andrew though — having something legally binding like Neil Josten on his documents, like their names on the lease, like his contract with his team — that means something to Neil.
Being with Andrew is the thrill of being in the game, but having it on paper would be like points blinking onto a scoreboard. He knows he’s scoring now, but he wants the crowd to know too. He wants this win to stick.
He doesn’t mention it because it doesn’t matter, ultimately. Neil doesn’t need other people to tell him that they love each other.
Andrew scoops Sir off Neil’s lap and smuggles him to his side of the couch. He pours one bowl of sugar crisp and one bowl of granola in the morning. He catches Neil’s sleeve before he goes for a run and uses every ounce of 5 AM energy he has to hold Neil’s eyes. Neil knows how he feels.
But he really does support Matt and Dan, separate from the way he’s scared of hospital rooms he won’t be allowed into or the box on a form that labels them ‘roommates’ like that’s anywhere close to enough.
The engagement lines up with a weekend that all the original foxes are scheduled to meet up on, scraped together by Matt’s meticulous hands and Nicky’s constant phone calls.
Andrew isn’t interested in going, but Neil asks, so. They’re the first ones there.
can i prompt touch starved tony who loves any and all physical contact he has? someone puts a hand on his shoulder? amazing! someone lens into his side at movie night? the best! someone actually hugs him? omg! the avengers start to notice and perhaps do something about it?
Tony is a puppy. He soaks up affection like a sponge. (I
threw in some Bucky because I wanted sleepy, helpless Tony.) Look out for under
Natasha noticed first. She had a leg up on everyone though,
having been sent to spy on him. She’d noticed when Pepper would reach out to
casually touch him—a pat on the shoulder, playing with his hair, sliding her
foot up his calf—and Tony would look ecstatic.
At least, as ecstatic as an emotionally constipated person could look. At first
she’d thought it was flirting, and Tony was happy to finally have it
But then Jim Rhodes had stopped by and swept Tony up into a
hug that brought his feet off the ground, and Tony had made a happy little
noise that had… done something to her
heart. While Rhodes was visiting, it seemed like they were always touching,
whether it was an arm over Tony’s shoulders or Tony pressing his feet against
Happy was touchy-feely with Tony, too. Even after boxing
matches, when they were both bruised and sometimes bloody but always smiling,
they’d lean their shoulders together, or Happy would be escorting Tony
somewhere and keep a hand on his elbow. Tony didn’t even fuss, even though
usually he would bitch about not needing anyone’s protection.
John at first realised this at a crime scene – naturally,
given their unique lives.
Sherlock was standing over a dead body (but then again, there were few times when he wasn’t). It was the
fourth murder, all of them done in the same way – their throats were ripped
out, and an ‘x’ was written in blood on the wall,
It started to rain down suddenly – no mention of rain in the
weather, or else John would have brought his umbrella – and John put his arms
around himself to keep warm.
“Sherlock,” John said, trying to communicate with his friend
so that they could leave. He was ignored, obviously… not that he was expecting
anything else. A few of the police officers around him were growing impatient
as well, muttering and staring at their watches.
“Sherlock. It is raining and I am freezing, and you probably
are too. You can come back tomorrow.” Once again, he was ignored.
It was pouring down now. John’s hair was sticking down to
his face, and from where he was standing he could see that Sherlock’s curls
were flat and hanging down in his eyes. Something in him couldn’t help but call
“Sherlock!” he called, still trying to get the consulting
He moved closer, and saw that his friend had his eyes
“Great,” he muttered bitterly under his breath, “mind palace
time. We’ll be here all day.”
Sherlock’s hands were clasped together, and if John didn’t
know him better he might have thought that he was praying – given that he did
know Sherlock though, he knew that it wasn’t even a possibility. It was the
gesture he always made while he was thinking especially hard about something in
his mind palace.
His middle finger was almost touching his chin, which, if he
was tired and thought about it enough, was funny to him for reasons he’d
explained to Sherlock before.
All of these were things John had noticed in Sherlock
hundreds of times.
Meanwhile, Sherlock looked like he was in no mood and had no
intentions of leaving, so John walked closer to him.
He was soaking wet, the coat hanging limply around him and
the shirt that had somehow seen the light of day almost see through, and John
would be lying if he said that he didn’t look for a second longer than he
probably should have. John couldn’t understand why all of this wasn’t bothering
him. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn’t understand about
Sherlock, and he was growing used to it.
John sighed and kneeled next to him, making sure not to
accidently destroy any evidence on the body, and waved his hands in front of
He then poked his cheeks, three times. Sherlock still didn’t
move a centimetre, to John’s dismay.
He sighed, and then poked Sherlock in the side.
Poke. Poke. Poke.
Sherlock, at that point, seemed unable to hold it in, and
out came a burst of laughter. John looked at him in amazement, and Sherlock
seemed to realise what it was that he’d done, and blushed.
Some officers looked at him strangely, and then started
muttering amongst themselves.
“So…” Sherlock cleared his throat, “was there something you
wanted?” He was still blushing, his cheeks dusted with red that John for some
reason just wanted to poke even more.
“Um… yeah, it’s raining, I thought we could leave and come
back tomorrow?” Sherlock looked around, as if just noticing that it was
raining. John though that he probably was;
chances were he hadn’t even felt it so deep into his mind palace.
Sherlock cleared his throat again. “Right, yeah. I’ll get us
a cab.” And then he walked off. John raced after him, and watched as a cab
pulled in to where they were standing; how Sherlock always managed to find one
so quickly, John had no idea.
They both climbed in, and Sherlock looked out the window as
John stared right at him.
“So, you’re ticklish?”
John exclaimed. Sherlock stared at him and replied quietly, “No.” and John just
looked at him once again in amazement. And then he reached out again and poked
him sharply in the sides, which prompted another burst of laughter that left a
smile on John’s face.
“Oh, I’m going to have fun with this,” John exclaimed,
leaving Sherlock in horror as he jumped up out of the cab.
It was a few weeks later that he managed to actually have fun with it; Sherlock had
once again, left some thumbs (or were
those toes… John didn’t get close enough to tell) in the fridge, and was
now attempting to solve a case.
John walked up to the detective and put his hands on his
hips, looking straight at him. His eyes were still closed, so John didn’t
bother warning him, and instead reached his hands out around Sherlock’s stomach
and sides, and started tickling him.
At first there was nothing, but soon enough Sherlock was
laughing quietly, which evolved into straight up laughing hysterically. His
eyes were very open now, and John watched as his tall friend managed to curl
himself into a ball, which was absolutely the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life –
Sherlock was still laughing, but with the position he had
manoeuvred himself into, John was finding it harder to actually get a reaction
out of him.
He adjusted where he was sitting so that he was basically on
top of his best friend and continued to tickle him as he thrashed around, until
their limbs were entangled and John’s face was basically on top of Sherlock’s.
He could feel his erratic breathing on his face, and blushed
as he realised the position the two were in. He went to move away but instead
fell further into the embrace, landing himself less than an inch from
Something inside of John must have just said “screw it” because next thing he knew he
was leaning down and oh my god he was
kissing Sherlock Holmes and it was amazing and everything he had ever hoped for
Sherlock kissed back slowly, and John couldn’t help but
start smiling, and next thing he knew it so was Sherlock, and then both of them
were laughing and neither of them could explain why, and then they were back to
kissing, and John’s hands were running through Sherlock’s hair…
Sherlock broke the kiss and smiled up at him. His grin was
contagious, and soon both of them were just smiling and holding hands and John
couldn’t even think straight, and he was just so amazingly happy.
They stayed that way for a while, until Mrs Hudson walked in
and saw the two of them now cuddling on the couch. She smiled at both of them.
“It’s about time, boys. Any longer and I would have owed
Description: In the midst of your loneliness due to Taehyung’s absence, you decide that you need a distraction, which somehow manifests itself as going over to his apartment and stealing a t-shirt or two… or three…
Anonymous Requested: Being in a relationship with Taehyung, and stealing all of his t-shirts while he’s busy with bts’ latest comeback + smut
You watched with a prominent downward quirk of your lips as
Taehyung ran around the apartment, quickly stuffing clothes into a duffel bag
as he scurried in every direction to gather his things before he had to head
off to the dorms. It was time for a comeback, and all of the members agreed
that it would be much easier on everyone to just stay at the dorms together
during the busy hype of the first couple of weeks. This cut down the annoyances
of people showing up to schedules at different times, or getting caught in
traffic, so you completely understood the point of it… You just wished it
didn’t mean having to stay back at your apartment all alone.
At this point in your relationship with Taehyung, you
probably should have been used to the notion of him having to leave for a few
weeks, or sometimes even a few months, every once in a while… but just because
you were used to it, didn’t mean you had to like it.
You fell back against the mattress, your mind heavy with
thoughts, and you weren’t exactly trying your hardest to mask the disdain you
had for him leaving, so it wasn’t surprising when you felt the slight sink of
someone taking the spot next to you on the bed. You opened your eyes, a concerned
looking Taehyung coming into view.
“Please don’t pout. You know I don’t want to leave.” He
reached forward, lightly pinching at your bottom lip that was sticking out.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Ethan rasped, his voice groggy from the morning and arising from the dead of sleep. Truthfully, he hadn’t had that peaceful of a sleep in a long time, more specifically, in a couple months -since the last time he was home with you.