#(also yeah we have a lot of flowers and a pretty big back yard)

[pluggedintosaverockandroll]

flowers in my backyard

[delphi-shield]

For your wip tag game:

I would love to know more about "Moving Forward" and "America's Suitehearts" pretty please? 🥹

OH THANK YOU FOR ASKING oh man, oh man this is exciting! i'm so sorry, i got so carried away. i had too many thoughts when i went back to skim these wips lmfao. i'm putting this under a cut that's how bad it is.

Moving Forward is a one shot and maybe the stupidest fic I've ever written. idk i like thinking about the transition periods between all the different leon's we get to see, and i was thinking about infinite darkness through re6 leon and his relationship with adam benford. i know a lot of people decry their friendship as character assassination but i genuinely have never thought that it was out of character. by re6 (and arguably infinite darkness, though he's still kinda finding his footing there) leon has resigned himself to operating in a broken, fucked-up system. he's able at this point to recognize the people around him who are trying to do good and trying to work within the same system to get shit done. leon is not and never has been a leader, he's consistently happy to hand over authority to a more established, senior power. he does not spearhead change. he'll hold his ground and speak up if something violates his personal code of ethics/morals but he is absolutely not reforming anything by himself, he is way too happy to fall in line and play good little soldier and by that point in his life he's recognized that about himself and he's playing to his strengths.

anyway only like half of that is relevant. the fic deals with leon's servitude and his attitude towards his work a little bit, but it's mostly a fluff piece in which leon takes the reader to have dinner with his friend. he neglects to inform them beforehand that his friend is president-elect adam benford. insert hi-jinks. here's where the fic gets its name!

The house is a two-story colonial, fresh paint, a manicured lawn with a BENFORD 2012 sign stuck in the front yard still.  It screams money.  “Always thought that was kinda tacky,” you tell Leon. “‘Moving Forward’ - like, yeah, I hope so. It doesn't even rhyme with Benford.” “It's a slant rhyme.” “Why do you even know what a slant rhyme is?”

America's Suitehearts on the other hand is basically me shoving all my Ashley headcanons into a fic and making everyone deal with that!! Post-re4, poly leshley/reader, extremely inaccurate portrayals of how the secret service operate with adult children of sitting US presidents because i'm struggling to research it. reader is a big lonely loser in this fic and they're really fun to write. part 1 is very office romance, slice of life-y, part 2 is established relationship, sort of navigating the awkwardness of the early stages of a relationship.

perfume and cologne also play a really big part in this fic. i think it started as a way to practice writing smells and then it very quickly just became 'okay but ashley would smell good though, she'd probably like gourmand scents'.

“I think it smells better on you,” you say, offering her a sheepish little grin over top the cubicle. You hand her the perfume back, catching the pout of her lips and the furrow of her brow when she looks up. Her fingers brush yours. Warm and soft, yet they still send a chill through your body. “That can’t be right,” she declares. She stands up, leaning over the low wall separating your desks, gesturing for your arm. You give it to her without a second thought. Her hands cradle your forearm. Her nose presses to your wrist. You’re grateful for the empty office. If she wanted to open her mouth and sink her teeth into your skin, you would let her just to feel her tongue laving at your skin, to have her teeth leave impressions in your skin like a flower pressed between pages. Jesus, what a weird thought. You’re going to have to unpack that later. Maybe find a date or something. Fuck, you’re lonely.

[yoooespinosa]

could you please write a draco x reader fic, where the reader is hopelessly in love with draco, and she's not afraid to show it. but draco doesn't feel the same. and draco being draco, he rejects the reader with no remorse. then when the reader finally comes to the realization that she deserves better, she started seeing new people (not necessarily dating, but more like talking), then that's when draco feels a bit jealous now that the reader isn't all over him anymore. the rest is up to you, love! just something really angsty, you could end it in any way you'd like.

also, sidenote. you're an amazing writer and i love you!!

a/n: Thank you for your request! ily <3

To say you had a crush on Draco Malfoy, was an understatement.

You couldn't help it, you couldn't just stop the feelings you developed every time he came around.

When he walked into the room it was butterflies breaking out of their cage, palms growing sweaty and your heart racing so fast you were scared you'd be able to see its indentions.

It was scary at first, to have such feelings at only thirteen years old. So you did your best to ignore them. You did your best to stay out of his way.

That only worked for so long.

When you are friends with Draco and the people that surround him, it becomes very hard to stay out of his path.

So it was only inevitable that your crush on him would become so much more. Especially as the years went on.

He hadn't made it much easier. Sometimes you felt as if, maybe, he returned your feelings. How could you think otherwise? With the way he walked with you to class, carried your books at times and spent time with you. Just you. Alone.

How could you not fall in love with him.

With all that simmering in you, you finally let it out. You made your affections obvious, not afraid to show Draco how you felt for him. You had thought it was welcomed. You thought that the feelings would be returned.

It seemed as though he could only tolerate you for so long. Yes, that was the right word for it, the only thing he had for you was toleration.

Your shoes sounded on the stone under you, on your way to the Slytherin common room. You had just got out of detention with professor Snape. You suppose it was well deserved, you had seen Draco almost put the wrong ingredient in his potion, so you being you had wandered to his table and helped him, much to Snapes dismay.

Whispering the password, you made your way through the dim passage. Chattering of people from all years and faint laughter was heard all around.

You spotted your friends right away, seated by the green flamed fireplace, as usual.

"She just can't take a hint." You heard Draco grumble, you paused your steps, you didn't mean to eavesdrop but it seemed as if your feet had a mind of its own.

"Wait," Blaise closes the book he had in his hold. "who are we talking about again?"

Pansy sighs, seeming they had been on the topic for some time. "We're talking about y/n."

Your brows furrow. Going back to the first thing you heard Draco say, she just can't take a hint, what was that supposed to mean. What hint?

"Why can't you just tell her how you feel?" Theo adds, his voice is laced with annoyance, maybe this isn't the first time they've talked about this.

"I thought how I felt would be obvious enough, without having to say anything." He huffs.

"Well," Theo sighs. "apparently not."

You were becoming anxious. What were they talking about and what exactly was Draco feeling? There was streak of hope in you, maybe he'd confess right here that he felt the same.

"What do you suggest I say then, oh-wise-one?" Draco asks teasingly.

"Easy, just say exactly what you tell us." He clears his throat dramatically, adopting a mock version of his voice, "Y/n, you have to be one of the most annoying girls, I have ever had the dissatisfaction of meeting. Please, oh please take the hint and leave me alone because these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time." He finishes with a clumsy curtsy.

The other Slytherins try to stifle their laughs.

You hadn't even noticed the gasp that escaped your throat until four heads turned to your direction.

"Y/n, I didn't kn-" You cut of Theo's words and apologetic stare.

"Is that true?" You ask Draco, your voice low, laced with hurt. Your nose was stinging and your bottom lip hung heavy, but you refused to cry in front of them. You wouldn't give them another weakness to laugh about.

Draco managed to keep his face blank, no emotions shining through. He shrugged, "Pretty much summed it up."

You almost flinched. He didn't even care about the hurt those words brought you.

You left without a look back. Leaving behind your friends call of your name. They weren't the ones you wanted an apology from. They had known how much you felt for him and didn't even bother telling you that it was definitely not mutual. They even laughed, like it was a joke, like your heart was a comedic topic.

The cold air hit your face, freezing against the tear stain tracks. You sat on a lone stone bench in the court yard, letting those tears make a home on your cheeks.

It wasn't obvious--his dislike to you. If it was, you would have gave up long ago. But a part of you felt that there was hope and you had chased after that.

Why couldn't he have just told you when you first let your affections known, it seemed that he had encouraged it back then, with lingering touches and soft smiles.

Looking back now, you notice that those advantages had slowly disappeared. You had been too caught up in his silky hair, those gray eyes filled with mirth and mischief, his angular face with high bones that no one could compare to, that you hadn't notice everything was unrequited.

A sick part of you even felt honored to have your heart broken in the hold of his beautiful hands, the part that saw him do no wrong.

Maybe that was the first problem, you put him on a pedestal, so high up you weren't able to see anything negative of him. You weren't able to see his cruel reality of his feelings towards you.

And he didn't even seem sorry. He didn't even look bothered by the damage of his words.

You were so nice and considerate to him. You would support him at every quidditch game, cheer the loudest even when he lost. You bought him presents for every one of his birthdays and even Christmas, each one sentimental and thoughtful. You had comforted him when he got those letters, that he despised, from his father. You had voiced encouragements when he showed a little tell sign of his insecurities. You had been there for him.

And he treats you like this, like you can be so easily dismissed. You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve to be called pathetic for having normal feelings and then being laughed at for it.

The longer you sat on that cold bench, the angrier you got. A bitter feeling growing in your stomach, melting away those knots.

You wasted all this time and effort on some guy who didn't even deserve it, some guy who didn't appreciate you. It wasn't fair.

"Hey, you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through your revelations.

You looked up and met green eyes framed with circular glasses.

"Yeah. I was just thinking." You mumbled, the bitter taste was stuck on your tongue, you wanted rid of it.

"Mind if I sit and think with you?" Harry asked, he was nervously scratching the back of his neck, smiling warmly at you.

You offered him a smile, welcoming his genuineness. "Go ahead."

He sat there with you for hours. Surrounded by the sound of wind. It was nice and comfortable. The bitter feeling leaving you completely. You were content now, even if you could still feel the ache in your arms from holding onto Draco for so long.

Weeks had passed. Weeks of no signs of you. The first week Draco hadn't been worried, a little curious, but that was all. The longer it went on though, he became a little more than curious. Not because he cared, cause he didn't, just that if something happened to you, it would be his fault. His rejection was the reason you ran off like a fool to who knows where.

Which is the only reason he went looking for you. He already got a lot of shit from the others, he didn't need more problems stacking up.

He checked all of your favorite places. Starting with that tree down by the black lake that you enjoyed to lean on and watch the sun go down, the sunset wasn't near so he should've known you would not have been there.

He then went to the gardens, there was a bench there that was next to a small pond. It was filled with odd creatures and was home to your favorite flowers, lotus's. You weren't there either.

Lastly, he went to a certain abandoned hall. You had to be there. You went there to be alone with your thoughts, you had taken him with you there a few times. There was a big window there with a thick ledge, streams of sunlight beamed through and tiny rainbows would reflect on the opposite wall due to the cracks on said window.

He heard you before he saw you. A soft laugh reverberating through the empty hall, a laugh he had always found annoying. Hearing it now though, just made him want to get closer to you.

So he did, walking with light footsteps. He froze, you were not alone. Sitting there in the space he once accompanied, was Harry fucking Potter. What kind of sick joke was this?

Why were you sitting with him? And does that mean you just laughed at something he said?

Your laugh sounded through again, once piercing now melodic. It was a bitter feeling, Potter shouldn't have the honor of dragging that sound out of you, he shouldn't even witness it.

Draco left the hall before either of you saw him, he needed to get himself in check.

More weeks passed. Weeks of you hanging out with Potter. You were doing things with him that you had done with Draco.

It was on purpose, you had to be doing it on purpose. You were simply trying to make him jealous and it was annoyingly working.

But how could you be doing that when you didn't even look back to see a reaction.

Draco didn't know what to think. He didn't even know what to feel, or more like let himself feel. Something had changed in the weeks you were away from him.

A revelation of sorts. He missed you. Missed what you would do for him. He regretted what he said and what he never had the chance to say. Because maybe deep down those feelings had been returned, but he was just too stubborn to show.

And now he's seeing you realizing that you deserve more than blurred lines and assumptions. And he's realizing maybe Potter is that more that you deserve.

Draco doesn't like that one bit, he can't even stomach the thought. So he promises to himself that he will do everything in his power to win you back. Even if that means saying that he was sorry and admitting that he was in the wrong, something he's never had to do before.

But if that makes you his again and gets you away from Potter, then its worth it.

Part 2

[pink-flame]

Like You Could Love Me

So...the Angry Flower Squad was making me SO soft over gifs and @mamirugbee wanted porch fluff with kissing and I remembered that @thedeathdeelers and @missjoolee liked my idea of using this post as a Juke prompt and here we are. I wrote this from 12-2am so it’s quite possibly incoherent and I’m not checking for mistakes until tomorrow so take it for what it is, a late night labor of love. Enjoy! 💜

Julie hadn’t slept for almost 48 hours. 

Her school was hosting a Los Feliz High After Dark event for the lower grades who didn’t get to attend prom. It was pitched as being just as exciting as the dance but in practice was known to be little more than a glorified sleepover in the school gym with PTA members for chaperones. Flynn had been determined that that year would be different, and had talked Julie into joining her on the planning committee. 

The good news was that Flynn had a real flair for party planning and decorating when she was actually invested (see the difference between the dance they tried to forget and the way she had helped Julie’s dad throw together an epic garage party in less than 24 hours). So by the time Julie and Flynn and the other volunteers were done the gym was fully immersed in a carnival theme full of cute booths filled with potential activities and cute backgrounds to take pictures in front of. It was definitely an improvement over the year before which had been an under the sea theme which had consisted mostly of a few blue streamers and Mr. Weaver walking around in an inflatable Nemo costume. 

The bad news was that it had taken a lot longer than they had anticipated and they hadn’t fallen into bed the night before the event until close to 2am. Julie hadn’t been able to sleep even after she slipped into bed next to Flynn and heard her best friend start making the small whistling noises that indicated she was out cold. Julie had been kept up with thoughts of what her bandmates were up to without her and if they had lingered a little longer on what Luke in particular was doing right then, well that wasn’t that surprising. 

She loved Alex and Reggie but neither of them had attempted to hold her hand and remarked on their “interesting little relationship” or suddenly developed the ability to touch her and instinctively joined her in reaching out to gently cradle the other’s face. 

No, Luke was different, not that she wanted to say that in front of him unless she was sure he felt the same overwhelming feelings she did Oddly enough she was much more concerned about the possibility that he didn’t than she was about the fact that he was still..well, a ghost. It wasn’t that she was unaware that his ghostly status could lead to heartache for her later on, of course she was. It just didn’t seem so important suddenly. After what had happened with her mom, what had almost happened with the guys only a couple of months ago...anything could happen at any time. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed anyway so why deny herself happiness now if she could have it? If she could have it. Because that was still the question. 

Because Luke obviously liked her but did he like her? That sounded so juvenile but to call it anything else...well, that was really scary. Evil ghosts and the looming possibility of their return had nothing on the insecurity that came with not knowing exactly how the boy you lo...liked felt about you. 

So Julie didn’t get much sleep that night, Flynn’s alarm seeming to go off only moments after she finally drifted off. She had dragged through school that day, trying to match Flynn’s excitement for the night’s upcoming festivities though her own enthusiasm had quickly drained out of her altogether along with her energy. In the end it had been as fun a night as it could be with Julie spending most of it in a semi-exhausted haze. She and Flynn had played some of the games they had set up, and danced to the music they both agreed would have been better if it had been either DJ’d by Flynn or performed by Julie’s band, and when Carrie had sneered something about how tacky the theme was even that had been half hearted and without any real bite. 

So it was a pretty good night all things considered and Julie was in a good mood despite her complete exhaustion by the time Flynn’s mom dropped her off early the next morning. Ok, so maybe part of her good mood was actually because of her exhausted state by that point as she found herself feeling giddy and her mind had gone sort of pleasantly fuzzy. That was her excuse for how she found herself half-skipping up the path towards her front door, singing to herself. 

We create...perfect harmony 

“Somebody had a good time.” 

Julie’s head snapped up to take in the figure of the boy who leaned against the pillar of the porch in front of her, a small smile bordering on a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Luke.

What was he doing there? 

Was he waiting for her?

She had to play it cool. 

She had to be normal. 

She had to not give away all the feelings that had been swirling around inside of her for the last couple of months since they first gained the ability to touch each other whenever they wanted and promptly both became too awkward to touch each other at all. 

She had to…

“I missed you,” She blurted. 

One of Julie’s hands flew up to cover her mouth as she took the last few steps up onto the porch, trying and failing to ignore the way Luke’s eyes widened even as that vaguely infuriating smirk grew larger. 

“I didn’t mean that,” She insisted once her hand had dropped back to her side. “I mean...I didn’t not mean it but...I just meant it would have been fun if you could have come. Any of you. All of you. Um...yeah.” 

Luke let her dig herself deeper, waiting until her stream of words had come to a complete stop. When they finally dried up he pushed off of the pillar with one of his signature little bounces, letting his momentum carry him to within a step of where she stood awkwardly on the porch. 

“Did someone spike the punch at this dance?” He asked her, amusement clear in his tone. 

Julie shook her head a little too fiercely, indignant despite the fact that she couldn’t exactly blame him for suspecting that she was drunk. 

She felt a little drunk. 

Not that she knew what it was like to be drunk but she was pretty sure it was similar to this. 

Not the point. 

“It wasn’t a dance it was a school sanctioned slumber party,” She corrected, focusing all of her energy on not slurring her words or otherwise embarrassing herself. “And nobody spiked anything. And actually nobody drinks punch anymore. Just so you know.” 

Luke held up both hands as though he were surrendering but that smirk of his was impossible to deny at this point, a fact that both made Julie incredibly irritated and simultaneously fighting the urge to lean up and kiss it right off his stupid face. 

Ok, that was not helpful. 

“Not a dance, no punch. Got it,” Luke said, his voice just soft enough to keep her annoyance more or less at bay. 

“Why are you out here anyway?” 

Julie hadn’t meant to ask that but it felt like any filter her brain generally had was long gone at this point. 

Luke tilted his head slightly and reached up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“Oh, you know, just taking in the view.” 

Julie frowned skeptically. 

“Taking in the view?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, gesturing out at the plant filled yard. “Just communing with nature you know? Honestly, I forgot you were even out last night.” 

“Oh.” 

Julie dipped her head a little so she didn’t have to look directly at Luke as disappointment rushed through her. She was pretty sure she was too tired to keep the evidence of that emotion from being completely visible. She was so frustrated with herself for caring at all. He wasn’t her boyfriend after all. Why would be be waiting for her?

“Julie.” 

She reluctantly raised her head to meet Luke’s gaze which was fixed insistently on her. His smirk had fallen away leaving behind a look at once more open and somehow harder to read at the same time. 

“I’m kidding,” He told her as he took a half-step closer to her, so close that she had to tilt her head up further to maintain eye contact. “I was waiting for you.” 

“Oh,” She said again, very aware that she seemed to have lost the ability to say anything else. 

She reached deep down inside and mustered up the strength to pull out one further word. 

“Why?” 

His eyes somehow managed to soften even more and his voice was oddly breathy when he answered. 

“Because I missed you too.” 

And Julie knew that the most prudent thing to do was tuck that phrase away as something warm, and happy and precious to examine more closely when she had slept and had the mental prowess to actually determine what it meant for their interesting little relationship. 

She knew that. 

But she was exhausted not only from lack of sleep but from months spent questioning where they stood. She was happy to hear him say that he had missed her, of course she was. But she also found herself feeling strangely...angry. 

How dare he look at her with those big soft eyes and stare at her like that if he wasn’t ever planning on actually putting her out of her misery by telling her how he felt or didn’t feel?

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” The words burst out of her without her permission. 

Luke was clearly taken aback by her words, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know,’ She hesitated, just enough awareness seeping back in to make her realize what a truly stupid thing she was about to say. “Like you could love me.” 

She watched as a whole range of emotions rushed over his face too quickly for her to decipher exactly what all of them were. 

“Julie…” 

“Forget I said anything,” Julie interrupted, turning towards the front door with every intention to flee the situation. “I’m just really tired.” 

“Julie!” 

He said her name more forcefully that time and she froze. She didn’t turn back to face him though, the pounding in her chest and the heat spreading across her face giving her all the incentive she needed to keep her head facing away. 

Luke wasn’t having any of that though. 

He reached out to gently tug her back towards him, one hand settling on her cheek while the other rested on her waist. 

If she hadn’t been blushing before she certainly was now. 

“Do you not want me to look at you like that because...because you don’t feel the same?” 

Luke’s voice shook a little as he gave voice to that question, his thumb seeming to stroke across her cheek without his permission. 

Julie was reeling, everything feeling surreal and dreamlike anyway because of her lack of sleep but when combined with Luke’s gentle actions it felt more and more unreal. She couldn’t help but remember the last time he had touched her face, how they had clutched at each other thinking it was the only chance they would ever have. Now they had new chances every day and they had been wasting them. 

Why had they been wasting them?

“Wait...feel the same as what? Feel the same as who?” She asked as her brain finally caught up with what he had actually said. 

He visibly swallowed and she took some comfort in the fact that apparently he was nervous too. 

“The same as I feel,” He paused. “About you. I...I love you, Julie. And if that makes you uncomfortable I never have to say it again, ok? But it’s how I feel and I just wanted to say it. Once or whatever.” 

“But…” Julie felt a giggle rising up inside of her as exhaustion and the pure absurdity of the moment settled in. “But I love you too.” 

Luke’s thumb froze on her face as his eyes lit up with something close to hope. 

“You do?” 

Julie nodded, the giggle finally bursting out of her only to be met with a grin from Luke so radiant she wished she could capture it in a photo to look at later. 

“You love me,” Luke said again as though he needed to confirm beyond any shadow of doubt. 

“I love you,” Julie repeated agreeably. “And you love me?” 

Luke nodded, bouncing a little on his heels as he somehow managed to step even more into her space. 

“I love you.” 

“Well…” Julie sighed happily. “Well, that’s great then.” 

Luke let out a bark of laughter that probably would have been loud enough to bring her dad to the porch if anyone but her had been able to hear it. 

Before she had time to remark on how obnoxiously loud he could be he was crowding her back until she bumped into the pillar he had been leaning against when she got home. The moment her back made contact with its firm surface he was bringing his other hand up until he was cupping both of her cheeks. She barely had time to adjust to that very much welcome sensation before he was lowering his head and aligning his lips with hers, pressing them together in a chaste peck that was still enough to send her heart racing. He started to pull back as if to gauge her reaction but she was having none of that. She had been waiting for this for so long and as previously established she had absolutely none of her usual ability to deny herself what she wanted. 

And what she wanted was her hands on Luke Patterson right then. 

She reached up and latched one hand on the back of his neck and the other threaded deep into his hair giving it a little tug just because she could. She had been wanting to touch him so badly ever since that night in the garage when she’d almost lost him and she’d been wanting to touch his dumb, messy hair ever since “I’m Luke by the way”. So she did. 

He let out a little pleased sound that was cut off when she stretched up to press her mouth back to his, this time with twice as much force and no intention of separating anytime soon. To his credit he took the hint pretty fast, his hands dropping from her face to wrap around her waist tugging her body to press against his as he moved his lips insistently against hers. And wow...that was something, the sensation of almost all of her pressed up against almost all of him. 

He wasn’t warm, not exactly, but he wasn’t cold either like she had feared he would be. It was more like his body was mirroring back exactly her own temperature, leaving it hard to determine where one of them began and the other ended when her eyes were closed as they currently were. 

Or maybe that was just them. 

Maybe it was like that quote she always saw floating around online about souls being made of the same stuff. 

When she was well rested and thinking rationally she had always rolled her eyes a bit at stuff like that but now...she was beginning to see the appeal. 

Julie massaged absentmindedly at the back of his neck as she drew his lower lip into her mouth, the sound he made in response enough to have her pulling back with a giggle. 

“Come back here,” He mumbled, his lips chasing hers even as she turned her face away leaving him to press soft, wet kisses to her cheek. 

“Now you sound drunk,” She told him, turning back to face him and looping both arms around his shoulders. “My dad will be up soon and I have no idea how I’d explain...this...when he can’t even see you.” 

Luke groaned as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m right,” Julie echoed. 

It was true but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. 

They stayed like that for another minute or so, just enjoying being this close to each other with nothing to hide. They might have stayed like that longer but Julie suddenly let out a yawn she couldn’t contain directly into Luke’s face. 

Luke pulled back sharply but the soft smile that seemed to always be reserved just for her remained in place. 

“You need to get some sleep,” He told her firmly. 

She wanted to argue but all that came out was another yawn. 

Ok, so there was no arguing with that. 

“Goodnight,” She told him, suddenly feeling shy as she backed towards the front door wanting to keep him in her sight just a little longer. 

Luke gestured around them to the soft light spilling around her yard. 

“Good morning,” He corrected with a grin. 

Never one to let him have the last word, certainly not when she was too tired to be embarrassed, Julie leapt forward to press one final lingering kiss on his lips, retreating before he could do more than return the pressure.

Julie backed towards the front door, the grin now firmly on her face and a rather dumbstruck one adorning his. 

“Band practice later,” She reminded him. “Don’t be late.” 

Then she slipped into the house and up to her bed, incredibly tired and pretty sure of exactly  what she would be dreaming of. 

[iam93percentstardust]

i was about to ask you to continue your marvels unsolved ‘verse but then i saw your specific ships so i’m going to ask for a fantasy au with winteriron!! but tbh you should do whatever makes you happy it’s your birthday month!!! (happy birthday! your writing makes me so happy thank you so much for it)

Thank you so much!! I’m so happy you like my writing!!!

I ended up being inspired by the magical flower shop AU I wrote last August, but that’s not necessary to read to understand this fic. Since tumblr is still having issues with links, I won’t include the link here but if you’re interested in that one, it’s Chapter 27 of AU-gust

As always, this fic can be found on my ao3!

Roses and Rowan

It’s storming when Bucky drives past Ravenspoint’s limits. The rain is coming down hard enough that he almost misses the sign for the little town in all the gloom, but then there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the foreboding faces of the town patriarchs glaring down at those who would dare enter their town. Bucky shivers, resolutely turning away as he continues on his way.

He’s not here for them anyway. The patriarchs are long dead, their only descendants long since fled. There’s another flash of lightning, this time illuminating the hill off to the left and the old manor on the hilltop. From what little bit he can see through the storm, it looks like it was once a stately mansion but it’s falling into disrepair now. Bucky blinks and suddenly he can see the golden glimmer of the wards around the whole hill, sealing the house and grounds off from the would-be adventurers brave enough to test their mettle against the ghosts of Rosewood Manor.

Another shiver runs down his spine. The magic is strangely familiar, though he can’t place where he might have seen it before. He blinks again and the golden glimmer of the wards disappears from his view. “Spooky,” Bucky mutters. In the passenger seat, Alpine mraows her agreement. He reaches over and scratches under her chin, grinning when she purrs loud enough to drown out the music coming from the car speakers.

They pull into town a few minutes later, only knowing it by the stoplight Bucky just barely manages to make out through the sheets of rain pounding down. He would have missed it otherwise, the storm too heavy and the buildings too dark to see in the night. Ravenspoint is a small town with a population of only three thousand people, exactly one stoplight, and two streets that run the length of town, connected by a series of smaller cross streets. It’s exactly the last place Bucky ever thought he would find himself and yet here he is, searching for someone who had made it clear he didn’t want to be found.

“What am I doing, Alpine?” he asks the cat. “He told me he didn’t want me to come after him.”

Alpine can’t respond but she rolls over, exposing her belly to him, and he gets the sense of reassurance through their bond.

“I know,” he responds. “Tellin’ people he wants to be left alone when that’s usually the last thing he wants. But let’s be real here, this place is pretty far off the beaten track.”

Another pulse of reassurance.

“Well if you ask me—” the helper figment starts to say.

“I didn’t,” Bucky interrupts before it can say anything else. Damn figment’s been more trouble than it’s worth this whole trip. “Where’s the turn?”

The figment gives him a sullen look. “In five hundred yards, off to the right.”

Even as the figment says it, Bucky spots the glowing lights of the shop in the distance. He slows down and pulls over into one of the parking spots off the street, peering up through the rain at the shop sign above the door.

“Bluebells and Belladonnas,” he reads. “He always did like alliteration.”

“Great,” the figment says waspishly. “Can I go now? I got a hot—”

Bucky flicks his fingers and the figment disappears back to whatever dimension figments come from. Alpine flicks her tail lazily, giving off a sense of amusement and a little bit of hunger. Bucky laughs and scratches her chin again.

“Yeah, I would’ve let you eat it if it wouldn’t have given you indigestion,” he says. “’nother couple of minutes. I’m sure he has fresh tuna for you.”

He sighs and looks at the shop again. The sign on the front says it’s closed but there are lights on inside both in the shop itself and in the apartment above the shop, telling him that the owner is probably still working.

“So what’re you doing sitting out here?” he asks himself. He gives another baleful look at the stormy clouds and the rain still pouring down, groans, and then shrugs his hood up over his head. Nothing for it. The rain isn’t supposed to let up for another couple of hours and Bucky doesn’t feel like sitting in the car that long.

“You gonna be good out here?” he asks Alpine. She blinks slowly at him. That’s a yes, then.

Quick as he can, he gets out and dashes for the cover the awning provides. Once there, he throws his hood back and then knocks on the door. He waits about a minute before knocking again, this time a lot louder. It takes a moment before he sees a person-shaped blob behind the water-streaked glass. He knocks for a third time. The person gets larger as they move closer and then the door unlocks and swings open with a wave of the person’s hand.

“What—”

“You know,” Bucky says, stepping over the threshold. He bites back a shiver as a wave of magic washes over him, verifying that he has no ill intent. “You are a hard person to find.”

“Yeah, some people would take that as a hint,” Tony Stark states flatly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at Bucky.

~

Bucky is born with the ability to see magic. Or, at least, that’s the sfigmentlest way to explain it, if not the most accurate. Just about everyone can “see” magic but what they see are actually just the effects of magic—what was produced or what was done. Bucky has the ability to actually see the threads of magic. It’s a Barnes family gift, although none of the Barnes mages have had this ability in nearly two centuries. Bucky is the first in a very long time and because of that, he ends up having to go to school rather than being trained at home by the family mage (also known as Ma to Bucky and his sister).

It's at school that he meets his best friend, Stevie, and Stevie’s other best friend, Tony. Tony is a bit of an oddball, not that Bucky and Steve are incredibly popular either. Steve should be popular because of his dragon heritage and the power that brings him but he comes into his inheritance late and has a strong sense of morality and that gets him into trouble, more often than not. And Bucky just ends up following behind him.

But Tony—Tony is hard to pin down. He has incredible amounts of power, which is unusual in a mage from the Jarvis line. He’s a lot younger than most of the other kids, which isn’t so unusual for people with a lot of power—Bucky can think of a couple examples off the top of his head of people who went to school early because of their powers—but all those people went to school early because they didn’t have control, and Tony is nothing if not controlled. He doesn’t much look like either of his parents and the way he acts sometimes… it’s clear that he’s been through a lot, is all.

It’s not until their fourth year that Bucky starts putting the pieces together, and it starts when he finds out that Tony doesn’t actually get his powers from the Jarvis line but from the Carbonell line instead. He wasn’t supposed to overhear that but he and Steve had gotten in trouble again and were sitting outside the Headmistress’s office while she finished up a meeting with the Jarvises.

That’s when he’d heard it: “The Carbonell magic is strong in Tony,” the Headmistress had said, and that had been all Bucky had heard as the pieces had started falling into place. It had always puzzled Bucky how Tony’s magic, so suited to big things, had come from the Jarvises, both of whom were more skilled in household charms and enchantments, but if Tony was adopted… Adoption was rare in magical families, as magic was so often tied to filial lines, but it wasn’t unheard of, and that explained so much about Tony.

He spends some time in the library after that, researching the Carbonells. They’re an old line, originating in Italy, before coming to the Americas in the late sixteenth century. They’re known for producing powerful mages with the exact same proficiency in metallurgy that Tony’s always demonstrated. The last of them, Maria, had married one of the Starks, a newer family with a proficiency in elemental magics—another of Tony’s skills, Bucky realizes—and that’s where the trail goes cold. He never finds another mention of the Carbonells, or the Starks for that matter, in any of the old history books.

But there has to be more to the story, Bucky knows. Because there’s Tony, who looks just like Maria Carbonell, and that means there has to be more. However, he never brings it up. That’s Tony’s story, and if he doesn’t want to tell them, he doesn’t have to.

He never stops hoping that Tony will, though.

~

Tony is looking at him now, eyes dark and arms crossed. Bucky has changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he’d brought with him as his clothes had ended up drenched, even from just the short run from the car and back out to grab Alpine and his travel bag. His clothes are drying by the fire now as Alpine explores the apartment, sniffing around curiously. Bucky is curious as well, but he’s been so busy drinking in the sight of Tony after almost two years of nothing that he hasn’t taken the time yet to look around.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” Tony asks eventually.

He shrugs. “I came to find you.”

“Thought I made it obvious I didn’t want to be found.”

“I thought we had unfinished business,” Bucky says quietly. He gazes at Tony steadily until Tony squirms and turns away, busying himself with the coffeepot on the counter. He prepares two cups of coffee, one with more sugar than most people can stand and one with more milk than coffee, and hands the one with milk to Bucky.

Bucky takes one sip and blinks in surprise. “This is decaf,” he says.

“Yeah, and?”

“Tony, you don’t drink decaf. You called it the devil’s brew.”

There’s a hint of a smile lurking around the corners of Tony’s mouth as he raises his own cup to his mouth. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Seems like you’ve forgotten a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like how I promised you I’d follow you anywhere.”

Tony stills for a moment before he puts his cup back down on the counter. “Bucky—”

“Tony, why?” Bucky asks, not even bothering to hide the anguish in his voice. It’s how he’s felt every day since Tony disappeared two years ago. “You told me we’d talk the next day, only I woke up to find you’d run. Did I push too hard? Was it not what you wanted?” He stops, frustrated and upset, and scrubs his hand over his face.

“Bucky, no,” Tony says, dismayed. He moves forward, taking Bucky’s hands between his. “It wasn’t you. You have to believe me. It was never you.”

“Then what was it?”

Tony bites his lip, hesitating. Even without using his Sight, Bucky can see golden magic swirling under Tony’s skin, pooling at his hands where they’re touching Bucky’s. He blinks and now he can see his own magic, cool silver, gathering at his fingertips, aching to reach out and touch Tony’s. Their magic has always been compatible, always stronger when they’re together, even before Bucky figured out his complicated feelings for Tony.

“Doll?” he asks, immediately regretting the pet name when it makes Tony flinch. He doesn’t take it back though. This is who he is, a little old-fashioned and a little flirty and a lot in love with Tony Stark.

“It’s me,” Tony eventually admits, looking down at their hands as though he can see the magic too. “I got scared. It’s—I’m not who you think I am.”

“Not what? Not a Jarvis? Tony, I’ve known that for ten years.”

Tony’s head jerks up so fast Bucky’s own neck aches in sympathy. “What did you say?”

“Tony, I know you’re not a Jarvis,” Bucky says again, patiently. He’s never admitted this to anyone before, let alone Tony. He can afford to be careful right now.

“How did you know that?” Tony breathes. “We’ve never told anyone.”

“Except for the Headmistress,” Bucky points out. “You prob’ly had to tell her so she could help you with your abilities.”

“We did,” Tony whispers.

He shrugs. “Stevie and I overheard her one time. She said your magic came from the Carbonell line. I got curious, thought it might explain why you and the Jarvises are so different, so I looked it up.”

“You didn’t think that was invading my privacy?”

The words are harsh but Tony doesn’t look upset. He looks—hopeful, almost, like he wants to believe Bucky knows everything about him and doesn’t judge him for it. It makes Bucky bold and he steps forward, right into Tony’s space, as he tugs one of his hands free and uses it to tuck one of Tony’s curls behind his ear, fingers brushing against his cheek.

“You are a puzzle I’ve only ever wanted to solve,” Bucky murmurs, bowing his head to rest his forehead against Tony’s. His hand cups Tony’s cheek for the briefest moment and then falls to his shoulder. Tony closes his eyes and inhales shakily. “But the moment the trail went cold, I stopped looking. It didn’t seem right to keep digging.”

“What did you find?” Tony asks.

“Two names: Howard Stark and Maria Carbonell, that’s it.”

Tony nods. “Those were my parents.”

“Were?”

“Could be are. I don’t know where they went after they left me, but I stopped calling them mine the moment they were gone.”

“What happened?” He feels Tony tense under his hand and quickly adds, “If you want to tell me. Don’t feel like you have to.”

“No, it’s—I want to,” Tony says, sounding frustrated. The space between his brows furrows in irritation. “I’ve just never told anyone and—I’m not sure I’m ready to tell the full story yet. It’s a lot.”

“Whatever you’re ready for, then. And when you’re ready for the rest, I’ll be right here to listen.”

Tony takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I was born at Rosewood Manor,” he says quietly.

“That place outside of town?”

“Mmhmm. That’s my magic you probably saw guarding it.”

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony, that place looks like it hasn’t had anyone living there for fifteen years.”

“Over twenty actually. I was three when—when that happened.”

“You were three? And you had that kind of control?”

Tony laughs humorlessly. “Believe me, that night I had no control at all.” He falls silent. Bucky waits for more, but Tony seems to be done talking for tonight, so he turns his head and kisses the corner of Tony’s mouth instead.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says.

Tony grimaces. “Not like I told you much of anything.”

“You told me what you were comfortable with. Believe me, doll, after two years of nothing—”

“You keep doing that,” Tony interrupts. “Calling me doll.”

Bucky hesitates. “I thought you liked it when I did that.”

Tony looks away, a bitter twist to his mouth. “I left.”

“Yeah…”

“I left right after you kissed me because I was scared and couldn’t face up to what was going on between us even though I promised we’d talk.”

Bucky waits, sure that if he stays silent, Tony will explain further. It’s a trick that he’s used in the past and it’s always worked. Sure enough, after another couple moments:

“You know, I was so sure you were dating Steve? Let me finish please,” Tony says calmly, holding up a hand when Bucky opens his mouth. “You don’t know what it was like. I might have met Steve first but it was so clear that you two were a lot closer than I would ever be with him. So yes, I was convinced you two were dating and that I was alone in my feelings and when I found out I wasn’t, I panicked. I thought it was Tony Jarvis you liked, not—”

“I like you,” Bucky interrupts, unable to keep hearing Tony talk about how he’d thought Bucky wasn’t serious about him, when he thinks maybe it’s the only thing he’s ever been serious about. “I like you as Tony Jarvis, Tony Carbonell, Tony Stark, or just plain Tony.”

“Like?” Tony asks shyly.

Bucky grins and kisses the other corner of Tony’s mouth. “Do you think I would have kept searching for you for two years if I didn’t still like you?”

Tony leans back for a moment, searching his eyes for something before he eventually says, “And what about Tony Barnes?”

Bucky’s heart about stops. He wheezes out, “You—”

“It’s not—I needed a name when I came back to Ravenspoint. I didn’t want anyone to know who I was and it’s a small town. People know every other name I go by, but—I didn’t think you’d mind or I wouldn’t—”

Bucky can’t stop himself anymore. He frames Tony’s face in his hands and kisses him soundly. It’s closed-mouthed and chaste and it’s still the best damn kiss he’s ever had, next to the only other time he kissed Tony. Tony’s hands flutter in the air for a second before wrapping around Bucky’s waist, clutching him to him.

“I love you calling yourself by my name,” he says hoarsely, pulling away long enough to get the words out before he kisses Tony again. “And one day, I swear I’ll give you that name for real, forever and always.” This time, it’s Tony who whfigmenters and kisses him again, sucking Bucky’s tongue into his mouth as Bucky’s hands slide back into his hair to hold him right where he wants him.

“Wait,” Tony pants, struggling against Bucky’s grip to move away. Bucky lets him go reluctantly, gratified when Tony only moves a couple inches. “How did you find me?”

“Your magic,” Bucky tells him, trailing kisses across every inch of his face. “It’s been callin’ out to me since the day you left, leavin’ me a trail to follow.”

“Lucky me,” Tony whispers.

And as Bucky kisses him again, unable to resist for a single second, he thinks to himself, No. Lucky me.

[frostedfaves]

Haunt (2)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Getting to know you brings a few ‘firsts’ for Wanda.

Warnings: brief alcohol mention, tiny bit of angst

A/N: click on the link at the end of the masterlist to add yourself to the taglist! and tell me what you think!

Previous part

-

“Honey, I’m home,” Pietro called loudly as he locked the front door behind himself, smiling as Wanda appeared from the kitchen. “There you are, rybka. Smells good in there.”

“As it always does,” Wanda playfully bragged as she pulled her brother into a hug, sniffing his shirt as he pulled away. “Why do you smell so good?”

“Because I had a date earlier. Don’t give me that look.”

“What? I didn’t give you any look,” she mumbled as she attempted to quickly bring a sense of nonchalance to her expression. “I just worry.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Pietro, your last girlfriend was a nightmare. I have a right to be worried.”

“Well, you can relax this time,” he assured her as he followed her into the kitchen to wash his hands. “Usually things don’t go so well with girls that have posters of me in their rooms, but I have a good feeling. She travels for work almost as much as I do, but she lives really close to here. I can visit you both on the same day if I need to.”

“Wait…” Wanda paused to think as Pietro grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “Does she have a roommate?”

“Yeah, her name is Y/N, I think. You know her?”

“I do now. We met about an hour ago.” A smile formed on her lips as she began plating the food she made, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. “Why are you giving me a look right now?”

“Nothing, just been awhile since I’ve seen my baby sister with a crush.”

“You’re only twelve minutes older than me,” she argued with a scowl and Pietro laughed.

“I see you’re not denying that crush, though.”

“You can enjoy someone’s presence without being attracted to them.”

“Maybe, but you definitely have a crush.” He caught her hand with a grin as it flew toward his chest. “Come on, rybka. Just admit it.”

“Fine, I think she’s gorgeous. Happy?”

“I will be when you start dating,” he teased as she pulled her hand away.

“There won’t be a date. I mean she’s coming here tomorrow to hang out, but I don’t think she sees me like that.”

“Then she sucks,” he affirmed, groaning when her elbow bumped his side harshly. “She’s not even your girlfriend yet and you’re already super overprotective.”

He ran back into the kitchen to grab the wine and glasses before she could hit him again, giving her a bit of time to fantasize about a world where you were her girlfriend. She’d never tell Pietro just how great that sounded to her.

-

Wanda gasped as the doorbell went off, nearly knocking over the 3-tier cooling rack full of cookies on her race to the front door. She paused in the hallway to fix any hairs that flew out of place in her rush and took a deep breath before opening the door with a smile. You were standing on her porch wearing a different hoodie from yesterday and jeans instead of sweatpants, but every bit of the face she’d been thinking of in the past 16 hours was the same, and she couldn’t help but think that nothing could’ve prepared her for being this close to you again.

“Are you going to let me in or just stare?” you teased with a slightly shaky laugh, and Wanda wasn’t sure if she was blushing because she was caught or because she was already so enchanted with every little action of yours.

“Sorry, sorry.” She stepped aside as you walked in and locked the door behind you. “I’m not usually this weird, I promise.”

“I’m sure you are, and that’s okay because I like it.”

Wanda was sure (if the tension surrounding her grinning mouth was any indication) that her face would split open at any moment. You hadn’t even been here more than a full minute and she felt a warmth growing inside her chest that hadn’t made an appearance in quite some time. She wondered if it was too soon to admit that to you, but Alexei tiptoed into the room before she could decide.

“Hey, it’s your cute dog!” You were on your knees in seconds greeting the corgi that happily trotted over to you.

“Yes, this is Alexei, which basically means ‘defender’.”

“I feel like you call him that ironically, but I think I can see this tiny baby taking out some bad guys,” you quipped as you glanced at her from the floor, turning back to Alexei as you scratched lightly along his jaw. “What do you think?”

Wanda joined you in giving her furry son some love for another minute or so before he grew tired of the attention and walked off, leaving the two of you alone again. A few seconds of awkward silence passed before she offered you a tour of her home. She led you through the living room into the dining room, showing you where the bathroom was and briefly gesturing toward her bedroom, trying her hardest not to make such a big deal of doing so. Once you made it back around to the kitchen, she took you through the back door to her yard.

“And this is my garden!”

“I’m surprised you don’t grow your own vegetables, too,” you told her as you checked out the variation of flowers growing in a line, quickly adding “You seemed to know so much about it yesterday.”

“There’s this market I go to sometimes, and the elderly woman that sells vegetables there is always sharing tips with me. I could take you one day, if you’d like,” Wanda offered as she cast a nervous look your way, relaxing a bit when you smiled and nodded.

“I would like that a lot.”

You made your way back inside and Wanda gave you the freedom to pick anything from her movie collection under the television while she set up a tray with cookies and bowls of popcorn and chips. She watched you slide a disc into the DVD player from the corner of her eye as she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“What’d you pick?”

“Tangled,” you answered simply as you grabbed the remote and took a seat. “It’s wholesome.”

You pressed play as Wanda returned with two glasses and a pitcher of water, and she sat at what she hoped was a respectable distance. The part of her that wanted to pretend that she hadn’t seen this movie thousands of times was quickly overpowered by the part that wanted to sing along, quietly at first during “When Will My Life Begin” and a little louder and more enthusiastic with “I’ve Got A Dream”.

“Am I that bad?” she joked when she noticed you watching her and you shook your head quickly.

“No, you’re not bad at all! You just have such a soothing voice. It’s kind of hard not to lose myself in it.”

“Oh...thank you.”

You faced the television again and Wanda took that as a cue to turn back to the movie too, but her focus was still on you. The last time she’d watched Tangled was with her ex-girlfriend, who complained every time she uttered a single note, but you almost seemed to encourage it with your attentive gaze. She found herself shaking her head a bit in an attempt to clear those thoughts, not wanting to compare you to someone else when she barely knew you.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized as you paused the movie, causing Wanda to look at you as you faced her once more. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No! No, I’m not uncomfortable, just surprised is all. You’re the first person to show appreciation of me singing during a movie...I mean, Pietro likes my singing, but he’s known me since birth, so the novelty’s kind of worn off.”

“Well, you sound incredible. The kids at your school are so lucky to--”

“Can I kiss you?” Her eyes widened as she scooted over a bit on the couch to give you more space. “I’m so sorry I said that! I’ve just been staring at your lips for the past minute and I swear I was listening, but I couldn’t stop thinking--”

“I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

The sight of your reassuring expression was all the encouragement Wanda needed to pull herself close enough that your thighs were touching, and her hand went for your jaw as she leaned in, internally cheering as you did the same. Your lips met in a gentle fashion, but Wanda couldn’t help her greed as she pressed herself into you more. She felt the tip of your tongue and opened her mouth without any thought, quickly losing herself in your touch as her hand slid toward the base of your neck while the other grabbed a fistful of your hoodie.

You yanked yourself out of her hold as she was about to slide her hand under the fabric covering your back, and Wanda jumped back in shock, torn between keeping her distance and placing a hand on your thigh to calm you when you began gasping for air a bit.

“Is everything okay? Did I go too far?”

“No, you didn’t. That was all me,” you assured her breathlessly. “I, um, just thought of something and kind of freaked myself out. Terrible timing, I know. I also know that was pretty weird so I can leave if you want.”

“I was just scared that I’d done something wrong.” Wanda placed her hands carefully over yours with a soft smile. “I think we’ve had our fair share of weirdness to the point of it not being a deal breaker anymore.”

“Okay.” You sighed and shifted your hands to grab yours. “I’m just worried that we’ll start something here that you won’t want to finish, and I know that can happen with anyone in any kind of situation, but I…Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that you’ll walk away the moment my baggage becomes too heavy. I don’t want you to try sticking it out for my sake and end up hating me.”

“I wouldn’t stay just for your sake--”

“I asked you to promise me something and you responded ‘anything’ with zero hesitation, and you’ve known me for only a day,” you quickly reminded her. “I have a right to be worried.”

Your words took her back to last night, which took her even further back to the reason she said the exact same thing to Pietro. She finds it incredibly easy to discover those red flags most people seem to hold, but always struggles to leave and ends up hating herself for it more than those that deserve it. So despite the lack of warning signs with you, she decides to give in.

“I promise.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 28

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 4.3k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: After a month of no Flower...here’s a chapter. Please reblog and let me know what you thought in comments or an as! I’ve been struggling a lot with writing lately and feedback really does help to motivate me!

; Flower Masterpost

-

Taking in the sight of the tattoo gun and all the necessary accessories that are being prepped in front of you, you can’t help but purse your lips in slight worry. As excited as you were for this, you were also afraid that it was going to hurt. Because getting a tattoo wasn’t a quick process.

Nervously, you glance over at Hoseok. He’s sat on a stool that Jay, the tattoo artist, had brought over for him while you sit on the padded, leather chair. Taking in your uncertain expression, he gives you a bright smile before squeezing your hand to give you a little reassurance. Which you need, because you were a big baby when it came to pain.

“You’ll be okay, I swear. You’ve watched me get tattooed before.” Hoseok says sweetly, white teeth flashing for a moment as he grins once more in another effort to soothe your worries. It doesn’t work though, as you almost immediately begin to frown upon remembering the one time you’d gone with him to watch him get tattooed.

“Yeah...and you ended up crying in pain.” Twisting his lips in a grimace, Hoseok’s expression is suddenly unsure before he sighs deeply in acknowledgement. Lifting your hand, he kissed the back of it gently before running his thumb along the thin, soft skin.

“Hey...I was getting tattooed on my ribs. That’s one of the worst places to get done because you’re tattooing on bone and muscle. Jay can attest that yours isn’t going to be that bad, I swear.” His tone is gentle and you can tell he’s trying to keep you calm. Glancing over at Jay, you watch as the tattoo artist finishes up his preparations before giving you a wry smile.

“He’s right. I won’t lie, it might hurt but if it does, it should get better hopefully. If it gets really bad though, tell me. We can stop if you can’t handle it. You will end up with only a partial tattoo but...” His shoulders shrug casually beneath his Amon Amarth shirt and you want to complain. But then you realise he’s right, and he’s only telling you the truth. 

Grinding your teeth together, you sigh deeply before nodding at him in acceptance.

“Okay. I’m a big girl, I can cope with this.” That line is directed at Hoseok, your tone slightly sarcastic and he snorts in response. Leaning forward, he gives you a quick peck on the lips before settling back and starting up a conversation between the three of you once you approve the positioning.

There’s a brief pause before you feel Jay’s cool, glove covered fingers pressing against your shoulder to make sure he gets the right angle. Your first dip into the tattoo world as going to be a small one; just a watercolour style tattoo after extensive research. Jay had frequently tattooed Hoseok over the years and so had been Hoseok’s number one recommendation, leading to him creating a pretty little cherry blossom flower design.

The first press of the tiny needles makes you flinch slightly as they begin to prick and you wince at the slight sting before breathing out slowly. It’s not as bad as you’d thought it was going to be in reality though you certainly wouldn’t want to have to sit for hours upon hours and have large, intense pieces done as Hoseok does. Still, you felt like this was a little bonding moment between you the two of you.

Even if there was a third person here, but whatever.

You weren’t getting the tattoo because of him exactly, but you wouldn’t deny that he’d been a big part of why you’d finally made the decision. Tattoos have always been something that you thought were pretty but they were also something you’d never considered getting as they were permanent. But Hoseok’s love and pride for his own had led to you gaining a new appreciation for them too.

When you’d told him that you wanted to get one, and what kind of style you wanted as well, Hoseok hadn’t asked if you had a special meaning behind it. One of his philosophies, when it came to tattoos, was that you didn’t always need to have a special reason to get a tattoo. It was more than acceptable to get something just because you thought it looked cool or pretty.

You’d discovered early on in your relationship that Hoseok had a real axe to grind against anyone who wanted to gatekeep tattoos and make it so that you always had to have some sentimental reasoning for it. He’d said something along the lines of ‘this isn’t fucking American Idol or X-Factor and you don’t need to have some dying relative to get it. Just get something cos it looks badass if you want.’.

But you did personally have a reason for getting it. Firstly, you’d made sure that Jay made it look pretty enough that you wanted to go through with the pain and have it on you. The second reason, which was incredibly cheesy and you’d rather die than tell anyone the meaning because you can’t handle emotions well, is because it’s a flower.

Part of it was that you’d met Hoseok on an app called Flower, which had led to the most important relationship you’d ever had. It wasn’t his name or anything, but more symbolic of how you’d met. The other major reason for it was that it was a symbol of how much you’d grown over the past year, becoming more confident in yourself and accepting that while you may have weaknesses, they didn’t make you weak overall.

Your research had shown that the cherry blossom, aside from just looking pretty, was also seen as the symbol of renewal and life. They’re only around for a few days, maybe a few weeks, every year but they’re bright symbols of beauty and happiness. Your own life had been renewed in the last year with all the changes that you’d experienced and you just wanted a little reminder that your while you’d struggled, your life was just as bright.

And that kind of cheesy talk was exactly why you wouldn’t explain the meaning to anyone. Not that Hoseok had pried too hard, though you were certain he’d probably at least figured out the whole Flower app connection. He hadn’t mentioned anything though.

As a result, you’d decided to get the tattoo on your first anniversary together. Which obviously, was today. It truly boggled your mind to realise that you’d been in a relationship for a whole year now. A year of being romantic with someone and them not getting bored or tired of you. Hoseok was still here and he loved you more than ever.

Technically, you didn’t have an actual anniversary. Neither of you had formally asked the other to be in a relationship. It had ended up being one of those weird adult relationships where you just start dating and just never stop. As a result, you’d both agreed that you’d the anniversary of your first date to symbolise the beginning of your relationship.

It was the first time you’d been together after all, and neither of you had even looked at anyone else since then. A whole year later, including many moments of bickering, confusion, anxiety, panic attacks, depression and moving your whole life around, here you both were. Still together, very much in love and tentatively looking forward to the future.

As a result of moving in the last month, the two of you had initially agreed not to get presents for each other today as a lot of money had been spent buying the things you needed to fill and decorate the house. Yet it had become quickly apparent that you both seemed to have secretly agreed to spoil the other with the excuse of ‘it’s our first anniversary, I can’t just get you nothing!’ being thrown around a lot.

You’d been bought the cutest fluffy Pikachu that you’d spotted in a store earlier today and he’d promised to pay for this tattoo given it was your first. And you weren’t any better as you’d bought him the BluRay boxset of the Godfather along with a gift box of flavoured teas that he’d been surprisingly excited over.

After your meltdown in the house the other week, it felt nice to be back to being happy. You still weren’t completely content or settled, but you’d managed to get yourself to relax enough to not snap or get grumpy with Hoseok anymore. The house was mostly finished with only the yard needing to be done, but you’d both agreed to wait until springtime for that.

It didn’t feel like home yet, but you knew it was just a matter of time.

But yeah, your anniversary was going pretty great so far. Even if you were having to put up with being pricked hundreds of times with the tattoo gun. You tried your hardest to ignore it and instead focused on Hoseok. He was busy talking to Jay while occasionally stroking his thumb over your hand, absentmindedly comforting you. 

Looking him over carefully, you took the time to simply admire him. How you’d managed to end up with such a stunningly handsome man as your boyfriend, you’d never know. Or understand, not that you were ever going to complain. What was even more baffling to you was the fact that along with being one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, he had a heart that was perhaps even more beautiful.

You were sure that if you’d ended up dating anyone else, you would have probably had multiple arguments that resulted in someone storming out by now. Or the relationship would have been ended long ago. Yet the most you’d done with Hoseok was bicker over small things with the incident the other week being the most friction you’ve had so far.

That was probably solely down to the fact Hoseok seemed to the unnatural patience of a saint. Something you didn’t take for granted, that was for sure. Just the thought of it has an overwhelming surge of love swelling in your chest.

You wished that you were the kind of person who could easily vocalise your feelings. It frustrated you eternally that you weren’t because there were so many times you wanted to tell him you love him. Instead, you gently poke at his hand with your free hand. Happiness fills you as he smiles at your way of telling him that you love him, poking your calf gently in response while carrying on his conversation.

He’d probably never realise how important he was to you. How much he’d helped you to grow as a person and with your personality. You owed him a lot and you would happily spend as long as he let you repay it. Not that he’d like that idea if you told him of course, but you didn’t care. You loved him, more than he’d ever know.

Tuning back into the conversation, you realise that they’ve been talking about the next tattoo that Hoseok wants. He was planning on getting a watercolour style tattoo similar to yours only he was contemplating having it be space-themed to match his sleeve. Jay is nodding as he discusses options with Hoseok, occasionally checking on you with a gentle touch before carrying on once he realises you’re okay.

And then the conversation moves back round to you and your tattoo. Jay had designed it after Hoseok had made the appointment for you and you’d emailed over what you were thinking. He’d sent over the design and tweaked it to your desire and finally, you were here today, getting it done. 

But apart from that, he didn’t have much knowledge of why you wanted it. Given Hoseok was a long time client of his, he had trusted that your boyfriend had given you enough information to make sure you were knowledgeable at what you were getting into. He’d sent over stuff as well but you’d discussed it in depth with Hoseok to make sure you were comfortable.

“So how come you decided today to get your first tattoo? And I’m honoured to be the artist you chose by the way.” Jay says, his tone sweet and you look to him giving Hoseok a slightly sarcastic smile. He’s given one back by your boyfriend and you snort, rolling your eyes at their interaction. As if Hoseok would let you go to anyone else other than his trusted artist.

“Err well...I’ve been considering it a while but wasn’t sure whether to get it or not. And Hoseok said I should try and go to you if I did want it as you’ve always done good work for him, so...yeah. I just decided I want it.” You mumble out, shy at explaining why you’d finally gotten a tattoo. There’s nothing more to say on that and Hoseok squeezes your hand in reassurance before taking over the conversation for you.

“And it’s today because it’s our anniversary so...why not get your first tattoo on your first anniversary, right?” Hoseok grins broadly, letting his fingers lace with your own and you feel yourself go warm at his pride and the affection laced into his voice. Jay pauses what he’s doing for a moment to look at you both with surprise.

“It’s your anniversary today? Oh man, congrats. Happy anniversary,” You grin at his good wishes for you both before he carries on, the needles pressing into your skin once more. “A whole year, that’s great. How did you both meet then?”

Hoseok glances at you with a small smile, wrinkling his nose slightly until you give him a smile in response. He seems happy with that and kisses your hand once more, playing with your fingers as his gaze turns back to Jay.

“Online dating, believe it or not.” There’s a snort of what sounds like amusement from behind and you frown, wondering what’s so amusing about that. Lots of people get together through online dating. That’s the whole point of it. Or is it that someone like Hoseok was on an online dating service? It still confused you, in fairness.

“Oh yeah? Take one look at the pretty lady and decide she was going to be your girl?” He teases and you see Hoseok’s smile turn devilish.

“More like she saw this handsome specimen and decided she wanted a piece of that.” Now you’re the one pulling a face at him, rolling your eyes at his bravado while being secretly amused the whole time. He wasn’t wrong in reality, only you hadn’t been quite as bold as he made you out to be.

“Would you and your ego like some space? I’m sure I can arrange that for you. Also, we love a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it.” Jay applauds you, smirking at Hoseok’s outraged face in pure glee and you can’t help but laugh softly at them both. It was obvious they’ve known each other awhile with how they interacted and you liked how Jay made you feel at ease.

“It wasn’t as...bold as that.” You murmur shyly, looking down at your hands as you recall the panic and anxiety you’d felt after messaging Hoseok the first time. It was hard to believe you’d come so far since then. Even harder to believe that outrageously attractive man was now not only your boyfriend but living with you.

“Ignore her. She’s weirdly bold in ways you wouldn’t expect. But anyway, yeah. Officially one year together today. Can you believe it?! Me? In a relationship with the prettiest and funniest girl for a whole year?” Hoseok snorts as he makes an incredulous face while Jay laughs as well. 

You’re not sure what to make of that at first before you recall that they’ve known each other years and Hoseok had been pretty notorious before you. Though his compliment does make you squirm in embarrassment, a desperate need to deny his words bubbling inside you.

“I’d say it’s shocking but honestly, you’ve been looking at her with the biggest heart eyes this whole time. So not really. I’m happy for you both though.” He says and you can practically hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t see him. It’s not too long before he’s finished with you, cleaning up and showing what your tattoo looked like to you to make sure you’re happy and then covering it.

You were beyond pleased with the tattoo, excitement flooding through you as you’d looked over it and realised it was even better than you’d hoped for. Grinning at Hoseok as you stood up, you gripped his hands tightly before wiggling with a bright smile.

“It’s so pretty!” He’s smiling at you in agreement as Jay cleans up his workstation before you all move over to the front desk to pay. The sweet receptionist from earlier is there, covered in even more tattoos and piercings than both men with you. At her request, you show off your new tattoo with a happy smile and accept her compliments with joy.

“How much again?” Hoseok asks, pulling out his wallet. You frown at him immediately, lips pursing into a pout as you remember he’d said that he was going to pay for it but he just tuts at you, shaking his head. “Shh, anniversary present, remember?”

Pushing at his stomach lightly, you sigh as you realise you’re not going to win this argument. Not that you were even arguing really, but you knew that Hoseok would refuse point blank to let you pay for this. Plus, you would admit to enjoying being spoiled by him sometimes. It wasn’t something you were used to but you couldn’t help enjoying it when he did it.

“Actually, it’s on the house today,” Jay says with a smirk, looking you both over with what looks suspiciously like fondness in his eyes. “Consider it my present to you both for your anniversary. Maybe you can make this a little tradition and I’ll see you both for many more years.”

Hoseok is silent and you look up to see his jaw dropped. It’s not often you get to see him so surprised and you can’t stop the giggle that leaves you at the sight of it. Smiling at Jay, you thank him profusely and squeeze Hoseok until he’s muttering out thanks as well. 

“It’s nothing. Use that money to spoil your girl today. And I hope you’re okay with being spoiled.” Jay grins, tilting his head at you as he practically gives you both an order. It might not be overly feminist of you right now but you certainly weren’t going to say no to it. You’d never had an anniversary before and damn it, you wanted the full experience!

“I will, I promise. Thanks, man.” Hoseok reaches forward and does that whole man hug thing with Jay, causing you to roll your eyes with the receptionist in amusement. Jay doesn’t try anything with you and you suspect Hoseok had probably told him you weren’t fond of physical contact from others. Instead, he gives you a nod of goodbye as you both leave.

“That was nice of him.” You murmur, brow rising as you take Hoseok’s hand and link your fingers together. He hums in acknowledgement, lips twisting slightly as a light frown touches his forehead.

“It was. So you like your tattoo?”

“I do, it’s so pretty. I didn’t think it’d look this good but...I like it.” Smiling up at him sweetly, you don’t miss the way Hoseok’s eyes soften as he looks down at you. Jay was right, he did go all heart eyes around you. Not that you were going to complain though.

“Good, I’m glad. I’ll make sure we look after it properly. For now, though, I’m hungry so how about we go get something to eat?” He throws his arm around your shoulder, hands still linked together so that you end up with your arm crossing over your chest. Laughing at the movement, you happily push into his side as he pulls you even tighter to him before agreeing.

“Okay, but you pick. We’ve been sat there for over an hour now just for me. Your choice.” Hoseok’s about to complain before sighing and giving in, letting go of your hand to purse his lips as he hums in contemplation. Your lower lip juts out at the loss of contact with him and you momentarily pause in bemusement at how much you’ve come to love physical affection from him when you dislike it from others.

“Let’s recreate our first date and go to the Indian restaurant. Only this time, let’s not talk about girls throwing up on my dick and end the date with us going home and having some hot anniversary sex instead.” Raising a brow at him, your lip quirks in amusement momentarily.

“You never cease to amaze me when horny, you know that? You just literally talked about someone vomiting on your dick and then went straight into having sex. Ew.” Wrinkling your nose, Hoseok snorts in amusement before grinning broadly.

“Look, we’ve established many times by now that when I’m horny, my IQ drops to almost single digits. Anyway, we’re not doing it now. We’re gonna eat and then go do it.” Laughing, you stop to wrap your arms around his waist and hug him tightly, resting your chin on your chest to look up at him as a confusing array of positive emotions bubbles and swirls around your body.

“Okay...that sounds good…” You trail off, brows creasing as you feel so many words and emotions stalling in your throat. Like a lump, you can’t get past. Instead, you squeeze him harder before pushing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. He lets you, amusement causing him to chuckle slightly as he carefully hugs you back.

“I love you too. Now let’s go eat, I’m so damn hungry you can probably feel my belly rumbling.”

-

Wincing slightly, Hoseok manages to shift until his arm is sliding out from underneath you. Massaging feeling back into it, he clenches and unclenches his hand before settling onto his back more comfortably. As much as he loved to cuddle you at night, he did often end up with a dead arm.

Sighing quietly, he stares up into the darkness of the bedroom. Your breathing is slow and steady, a calming and soothing sound to his ears as you sleep comfortably. Without even realising it, he's smiling gently before glancing over at you.

A whole year. He'd been with you for a whole year. If someone had told him this two years ago, he'd have laughed. Even though he was in a much better place than when he was a teenager, he knew that some part of him had avoided relationships. Like he still hadn't felt worthy of one.

He did now. He had to. You didn't deserve anything less. And if that sounded cheesy then dammit, it was his first anniversary. He was allowed.

Thinking over everything that has happened in the last year, he feels immense pride at how much you've grown. How comfortable you've become in yourself around him. How happy you are. There were bumps along the road of course, but the two of you had gotten through it.

Expanding his cheeks almost childishly, he lets out a slow and deep breath as he contemplates just how mushy he's being. If the guys could hear his thoughts…

And it's then that he realises he hasn't even posted anything today. Nothing to declare to the world that you'd both made it a year. Even when people hadn't expected you both to last a month.

Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he unlocks it and opens Instagram. Choosing the right pictures takes him a solid 10 minutes. He has so many and he wants to make sure that you'll approve of each picture that he chooses.

Finally, though, he settles on them. A selfie of you both grinning broadly from today, the photo of him kissing your cheek from his birthday, a picture of you sat reading a book in your old apartment, a selfie of the two of you kissing and finally, a picture of you holding Kasumi and smiling so big.

Each one gets edited carefully until he's happy with them, moving forward to the part where he has to write. Glancing at the time on his phone, he sees that he has fifteen minutes left of his anniversary.

So he starts to write.

Jungsevenfold: Today we celebrated our first anniversary!

One whole year of being with the funniest, kindest and on occasion, strangest, girl I've ever met. I've learnt many things being with you, from discovering I like board games to the fact it's a bad idea to destroy the moon.

I'm never quite sure what you're going to say and I love that. I love the way your mind works, what you find funny and so much more. We're often told we're mismatched but I think it's working out. Better than anyone thought.

I think this is long enough and mushy enough, so I'll finish up. Y/N, my princess, my little meeple; I love you ❤🥰. So may we have many more years!

/cheesiness

Posting it, Hoseok watches it upload and feels a momentary pang of embarrassment at what he'd written. But glancing back over to you, he pushes it away. You deserve for him to yell his feelings.

Rolling over, he places his phone back before smiling to himself and wriggling into the covers. You're hard enough on yourself, so if a little embarrassment on his behalf can make you smile.. then it's worth it.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Dinner at the Demers

(Story Post)

“Here we are,” Fay said pulling up the driveway. He parked and smiled to Theo. “Let me get your door.” “I got it,” Theo chuckled, opening his door and getting out himself. As his case worker, Fay had been helping Theo a lot with talking out his feelings around his pregnancy. The merman was more than friendly and Theo always felt comfortable around him, even when it came to very personal things like body dysmorphia or feelings of loneliness. Theo had found that he and Fay had a few things in common, like the fact that they'd both left home to pursue their careers. After just a few sessions with him, Theo liked to consider the merman his friend and was very happy to be invited over to his place for dinner. “Thanks for having me,” Theo said as he followed Fay to the front door. “I don't get out much, especially now.” “It's no problem,” Fay said. “Dari was glad to hear you were coming. He has a habit of taking group members in under his wing. Camilo's like a son to him now.”

“I'm pretty sure I'm older than Dari…” Theo said. “You're the same age actually,” Fay stated. Theo blinked. “He's thirty?!” “Looks can be deceiving,” Fay said. “He looks like he's twenty at most,” Theo stated. “Is he aging backwards?” “It's a little complicated but it isn't my place to explain,” Fay said. “Let's just say his body needs time to catch up.” “Okay, but, like…” Theo rubbed his neck. “I'm gonna have a hard time not thinking about that.” “If you get him in the right mood, Dari will tell you whatever,” Fay assured. “Anyway, we eat a lot of fish in this household, but I understand someone in your condition might prefer something safer so we also have chicken. What do you prefer?” “Oh, fish is fine,” Theo said. “Dr. Aias said there really isn't any diet restrictions for me, so long as I eat healthy for myself. I can smoke and drink if I want. The baby's not going anywhere. I don’t smoke. Haven’t really touched alcohol either… Still feels kinda wrong.” “Fair enough,” Fay unlocked the door and let them inside. “Oh, don't let the cat out.” “Huh?” Theo looked down to try and see if any animals were at his feet but he then realised he couldn't see his feet at all and a second later, a cat dashed out from under him and onto the porch. “Ah, sorry Theo, I wasn't thinking,” Fay said. He managed to catch the feline and pick her up. “This is Slippers. She's very curious and friendly.” Theo offered a hand to sniff and then pet the cat on the head. “She's very cute.” “I got her as a gift for Dari a while back,” Fay said. “He's very protective of her so even though we don't get much traffic out here, she's best as an indoor cat.” “Got it.” “Come meet the kids,” Fay said. “Twins should be down for a nap right now, but otherwise, trouble should be about.” It didn't take long until the first few heads popped out to see them. “Papa!” one child yelled, flinging themselves around Fay's waist. Another just stood there and pointed at Theo. “Baby belly!” Theo flushed red. “Uh, yeah...” “Otter, pointing is rude,” Fay said, pushing his son's hand down. “Apologise to my friend Theo.” “Sorry, my friend Theo,” Otter said, still just staring up at the man. “It's fine,” Theo assured. “Siv, mon poussain,” Fay said to the other boy, sliding a hand between his side and his son to pry him off. “Papa can't move if you're hugging so tight.” “I missed you,” Siv whined. “I missed you too,” Fay said, petting his son's head. “Where's Daddy?” “Green room,” Siv said, pointing to the back of the house. “Greenhouse. And your sisters?” “Um... Ari and Kat with Milo and Zoe with Daddy and the babies sleep.” “And do we remember the babies names?” Fay asked. “Um...” “I do!” Otter said quickly. “I know you do,” Fay said patting Otter's head. “I want Siv to remember. They're a little harder.” “Oh.” Siv racked his brain. “Uh, Anna and...” He looked at Otter who was signing to him. “Isa...belle?” “Annabelle and Isabelle, that's right,” Fay approved. “Next time, no cheating. Get your big brother and let's meet in the greenhouse, okay?” Siv looked at Otter and then grabbed his arm. “Specifics... Both of you get your eldest brother, understood?” Fay rephrased. “Yeah!” Otter said, letting go of his father and taking Siv's arm to go get Milo with him. Fay took Theo outside to the back of the house. Theo was immediately impressed by the spacious yard, with a pool as well as a relatively large greenhouse. Inside, there were rows and rows of vegetables and flowers growing. Dari was found between the leaves, dwarfed by his own six-foot-tall tomato plants. Zoe was toddling about at his feet and grabbing any ripe tomatoes she could get her little hands on. Dari looked upset when he heard Fay and Theo entering. “Zoe, tomatoes in the basket, bunny,” he instructed as he pulled off his gardening gloves. Zoe completely ignored him and just kept grabbing tomatoes, ripe or not and trying to put them in her mouth. “My love,” Fay said, stepping up to his husband and wrapping his arms around him. Dari took his sun hat off and wacked Fay over the arm with it. “You should've reminded me Theo was coming over! I would've started dinner early.” “I told you this morning. What more reminders do you need?” Fay asked. “And that's not a jab, I want you to know.” “...Maybe, an hour before you leave work,” Dari said. “It takes two hours to make dinner?” Fay asked. “It can!” Dari said. “It allows me time to prepare. Now a guest will have to wait with us.” Fay kissed his forehead. “I'll make dinner. You can do your thing. Hang out with Theo.” “Hi, Theo,” Dari finally said, acknowledging his guest. “I'm sorry about this.” “You really have nothing to apologise for,” Theo said. “I don't mind waiting to eat. I had a big lunch.” “Come here,” Dari waved Theo over. Theo obeyed, going over to Dari. “Your garden is amazing. I feel like you never have to get groceries.” “That’s the idea,” Dari said, nodding. He hovered a hand over Theo's stomach. “Can I touch?” “Sure. You're not the first.” Dari placed his hand on the protrusion and rubbed softly. “Aliens, right?” “That's right. Though, they’re not big enough to feel or anything…” “I'll go start dinner,” Fay said, leaving them be. “Were you abducted?” Dari asked. Theo shook his head. “No. Well, not really. Not in the traditional sense. I was...visited in my dreams.” “That's different...” Dari pondered. “Different?” Dari took his hand back and patted his own chest. “I was abducted. I had children for the aliens, each ripped from me the moment they were born. Or even before.” Theo frowned. “I'm so sorry... That's terrible.” Dari shrugged. “I don't really...feel anything from it anymore. It's like a part of my life I won't get back so why should I lend it any feelings?” “I mean, I guess that's good...” Theo considered. Dari suddenly lifted his own shirt, revealing his slightly distended and scarred stomach. “You see this ‘X’ scar? They implanted an artificial womb inside me and a ‘gamete converter’, which basically steals my DNA and turns it into egg cells... In a way, I stole it from them... I was able to make my children with it, so...it's like...not all bad.” “...Why are you telling me all this?” Theo asked. Dari pulled his shirt back down. “I don't do well in groups but when I heard your situation, I knew I had something in common and I feel like everyone needs people they can relate to for support. I want you to know that I'm here and, at least on the non-consensual alien pregnancy level, I understand more than most people will ever understand.” Theo smiled a bit. “Oh. Thank you. I guess you're right.” “If there's ever anything I can help you with, don't hesitate to contact me,” Dari said. “And don't for a second think you have to forgive them for doing this to you. I haven't.” Theo nodded slowly. “...Um, so Fay mentioned you and I are the same age?” Dari tilted his head. “Are you thirty?” Theo nodded. “You just... You look so young.” Dari put his hands on his hips. “Why, cause I'm short?” “No, well, um...” Dari looked away and started meddling with some cucumber. “I was abducted when I was fifteen. This thing inside me synthesised a chemical similar to estrogen so I didn't really have a chance to finish puberty until I got back... I'm on hormone therapy now. I was supposed to be, ever since I got back, but I couldn't really do it while pregnant five times, could I?” “Five times?” Theo asked. “I thought you have eight kids.” “Twins exist, Theo,” Dari said. “Fay carried Otter and Milo was born well before I got back to Earth.” “But, wouldn’t that—” Theo was cut off when a big red beast of a person came bounding outside carrying two little girls with him and with Siv and Otter at his heels. They came inside and the small children immediately dispersed to go look at the plants and pick anything that looked ripe enough to eat off the stem. The giant red man went directly to the adults and loomed over them, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. Theo was shocked beyond belief and froze up immediately. “Milo, my biggest boy!” Dari cooed wrapping his arms around his son's waist. He was two or three heads shorter than Milo and could barely see above his chest. “Milo, this is Theo. He's a friend.” Milo put the girls down and waved to Theo, before signing to his father. “Milo says he really likes your hair,” Dari said. “I think it's because it's a colour he can actually see well. He’s a bit colour blind.” “Oh, um. Tell him thanks for me?” Theo requested. “Tell him yourself. He can hear you, he just can't speak like us,” Dari explained, happily patting Milo's chest. “He's my big growly boy...” “Oh! Okay, thanks Milo,” Theo said, running a hand through his own hair. “I need to dye it again soon though.” Milo nodded, smiling and signed again. “He thinks you look cool with the roots,” Dari said. “It’s almost like Fay and Ari’s hair. You’re like an honorary merperson.” Theo smiled. “Thanks, but I think Fay pulls off two colours much better than I do. It’s not even blended.” Milo signed again to Dari but Dari didn’t translate and just signed back. Milo looked a little upset and then signed again. “Milo wants to compliment you on your pregnancy,” Dari said. “I told him it might not be appropriate but he insisted.” “That's cool. Thanks, Milo,” Theo said, trying to stay calm in front of the seven-foot-tall red man. “How um, how old is he?” “Twelve or thirteen, we think,” Dari said. “Hard to say.” “You don't know?” Theo asked. “Yeah, well... They weren't really handing out Earth calendars aboard the sex trafficking space ship, so I really don't know when he was born,” Dari said. “We use the day that he came home to us as his birthday.” “That's really... That's some crazy stuff that happened to you, Dari,” Theo said. “I'm so sorry.” “Don't be. It was years ago.” “But really, you talk about it so casually. You know, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” Dari patted Theo’s shoulder. “It happened. It was terrible. It's left me physically, mentally and emotionally scarred for life. But that's all it is. Scars. I can't do much about it. All you can really try to do with scars is put lotion on them or tattoo over them. I'm tired of doing that, so I just wear them. The nightmares come less and less. My physical scars don't hurt anymore. When I tell my story, I can detach myself from it. I don't let it bother me.” He patted Theo's cheek. “Oh, but if it bothers you, I won't talk about it.” “Oh, no, no. I don't mind,” Theo said. “Thank you for opening up.” Dari sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Of course, you don't have to share either if you don't want to. But I am curious... You weren't abducted, but you also don't strike me as the type of guy who hangs around alien bars. No, wait. You mentioned dreams? How does that work?” “It's kind of embarrassing...” Theo said. Dari lifted his own shirt and patted his stomach. “Looking four months pregnant for the rest of your life is embarrassing.” Theo proceeded to tell Dari everything, how the celestial apparently impregnated him in his dreams and how on the first day, he grew so rapidly. Dari listened intently and when he was done, offered up his sympathy and advice. Theo mentioned Henderson, but only as a friend helping him out. He didn't mention that they'd slept together because he still didn't know what it meant yet. They chatted a little more for a while until it was dinner time and they headed on inside. Theo enjoyed his time at the Demers house. The food was good and there was nothing but energy in the dining room as they ate. Siv took a liking to Theo in particular and spent most of the meal telling him about his favourite frog he found the other day. Fay later expressed to his guest how delighted he was to see Siv opening up so easily with Theo since he was apparently the shiest child. This made Theo feel quite a bit better about having to listen to ‘hop hop hop’ and ‘ribbitty ribbit’ over and over. At the end of the night, Fay drove him home. He welcomed Theo to their house any time and Fay would be happy to drive. Theo thanked him for hosting him and then got himself ready for bed. He was exhausted from just being around so many children at one time and was very glad that he would not be dealing with anything like that for himself any time soon.

[palettepainter]

Powerloader - Family reunion

Higari and Ecto go down to visit Higari’s family in the country, things don’t go according to plan

Warnings: Swearing, verbal arguing, lil sad angst at the end

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Aren’t you going to knock?” Higari stiffened, Ectoplasm’s voice pulling him back to reality, turquoise eyes blinking under his mat of ginger hair. His knuckles faltered over the door “...You know-“ Higari’s hand went to his pocket and he shrugged “We could always just go out ‘n’ bout town” he suggested, rocking on his heels slightly. Above him, Ectoplasm rose a brow “I know a good bar that my brother told me he worked at for a few years. Does good beer, and there’s a nice old fashion juxebox there too” he looked off to the side, kicking at a pebble on the porch “Think you’d like it..” Ectoplasm hummed “..Nervous?” He asked, tilting his head downward in an attempt to make eye-contact. “No.” Powerloader answered, perhaps sounding a bit too sure “...Not exactly” He said looking sheepish Powerloader sighed, pulling a hand back through his curtain of orange hair, eyes peering up to the house doorway with a crease in his brows “You sounded happy this morning when we where walking to the train station” Ectoplasm watched as Powerloader turned, pacing in a circle, taking leisurely steps, grunting back in reply “What changed your mind?” “This..this ain’t exactly the best a homes Ecto” Powerloader said, observing the large front yard and dirt drive through that surrounded the front of the house. “My family aren’t the same as your parents ya know” he could remember how kind and welcoming Ectoplasm’s folks had been after he got over his initial fear, he could name at least one person who wouldn’t be as welcoming.. “If that’s the case, why did you offer to bring me along?” Ectoplasm asked, head titled “I mean- yeah! I want you to meet them but..” Higari chewed his gum, hands on his hips before he sighed “I just dunno if everyone will be as nice as your parents where” Ectoplasm let that information sink in, with the narrow of his eyes Higari could tell he was thinking something over. When Ectoplasm was finished, he turned back to Higari “Are you worried they may not approve of our relationship?” Higari tensed “...It..crossed my mind” he admitted, sounding ashamed “And if that scenario becomes reality, would you break up with me?” “NO!” Higari whirled round so quickly that his entire fringe swooped off his face before falling back down again “N-NO! God no! Of course not!” “And you know I wouldn’t leave you” Ectoplasm replied, still calm “..So if worst comes to worst, we’ll still be together, no matter what - right?” He smiled, holding out his hand and tilting his head back towards the door. Higari looked between Ectoplasm’s face, the doorway, and then his hand. He let out a sigh “Okay..” he nodded “Alright..Let’s go, I guess” Ectoplasm gave him another smile, as Higari finally knocked on the door. No answer “...Huh” he knocked again, this time a bit louder “Odd, usually Taiho is home at this hour” Higari let go of Ectoplasm’s hand in favour of stepping onto the front lawn to try and peer up into the windows on the first floor “Maybe they’ve gone out?” Ectoplasm suggested, walking up to Higari who hummed “..Nah” he said with a shake of his head “Even if Taiho ain’t around, Chikara or Suru are usually here tinkerin’ around in-“ A giant explosion from the side of the house made both jump, going into high alert on instinct from years of work in the hero field. Black smoke as dark as ink pooled out into a giant cloud from round the back of the house, followed by yelling “...the garage!” Higari said before he took of running, Ectoplasm following swiftly behind as Higari led him round the back of the home and into what looked like another smaller dirt yard. There was a big garage, where the smoke was spilling out from, and odd piles of junk, scrap metal or engine parts littered here or there, as well as a small open shack with a work bench covered in other piles of metal sitting inside. “God fucking dammit!” A red head came rushing out from the smoke, a second figure with a head of ginger hair similar to Higari’s following close behind. “Shit!” The red head turned back to the garage doors and groaned, head flopping back with her hands on her hips “Uuuu...Welp” they shrugged “Could be worse..least there was no fire this time” “I take it engineering is a common hobby?” Ectoplasm whispered to Higari. “Welcome to the family” He replied, now a bit more at ease at seeing no one hurt after such a big explosion. “This the welcomin’ party I get?” Higari joked, making his way over while Ectoplasm stood back. At the sound of his voice the redhead threw her head over her shoulder, seeming to do a double take, before she grinned ear to ear “Higari?!” She yelled “No way!” Before Higari had time to say anything more the red head had moved the distance between them to eagerly embrace him in a hug “You asshole” she punched his shoulder, though years of work and digging through rubble hardly left it sour “Come and visit more often ya dick!” “Ha, nice to see you two Chikara” Higari stepped back to take a good look at her “...You cut your hair” he said, noticing how her hair was now much shorter, and two how she had it pinned up with a bandana. “Hm, you changed a lot” “Wish I could say the same for you shorty~” It was like a glass breaking noise went off in Higari’s head, as his brows narrowed, and he turned away “I take it back, you haven’t changed at all” Ectoplasm was guilty of letting a few eensie snickers out, which where apparently enough for Higari to look up and gesture him over “I actually have somebody for you to meet” the women who’s name was apparently Chikara hummed just as he came up to Higari’s side “Ectoplasm, this snotface is my sister, Chikara” Chikara rolled her eyes “The other one is Suru” Ectoplasm glanced over Chikara’s shoulder where the orange haired girl was busy trying to disburse the smoke by waving a towel, she offered a small wave, before turning back to work. “Chi, this is Ecto” Chikara’s eyes widened and she looked down to Higari, and then directly at him “Heh, the Ectoplasm? In the flesh~” She chuckled, dropping her hip with her hands in her pockets “Never thought I’d see the day, my rugged dirt rollin’ big brother would bring back a pretty boy like you” “My pretty boy” Higari corrected with a clear of his throat, making Ectoplasm blush a faint pink. “I ain’t trying to steal your boyfriend” Chikara confirmed with a sarcastic surrender motion, though the teasing grin on her face made Higari put an arm around his hips, for extra measure. Ectoplasm rolled his eyes and then offered a hand to shake “Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you!” He gave her hand a friendly shake, still smiling despite Higari’s hand still on his hip “Thank you for letting me come down to visit, I’ve been looking forward to the trip for a while” “Hm, polite and cute?” Chikara hummed, hand on her chin “You’re a real ideal husband package huh?~” before Chikara or Ectoplasm could say anymore Higari swatted his hand at her “Watch it” he warned, only half threatening as Chikara cackled, taking three steps back “Aight aight, I’ll stop!” She said, hands returning to her pockets “Jokes aside, pleasure to finally meet the ‘Ecto’ Higari keeps mentioning in his letters” “He spoke of me?” Ectoplasm asked Chikara made a ‘Pft’ noise “Only in every letter he sends” she said, glancing down to her older brother, hoping maybe a little too much that it’d draw a funny reaction from him. However Higari simply shrugged “I see no problem, you’re just jealous you don’t have a boyfriend yet” “You wound me~”  Chikara mocked, pressing a hand to her heart “Hm, yeah..so anyway, where the others at? Ma, Taiho, Hono?” “Ma ‘n’ Taiho are on a shopping run, Hono’s at work, prolly won’t be back till later on.” Chikara rubbed her neck, looking off at nothing while Higari had this blank look on his face that Ectoplasm couldn’t explain “..Lemme guess, he ran off to get an early work shift to avoid seein’ me?” Ectoplasm blinked, and then looked up to Chikara who appeared fidgety “Uh-“ Higari sighed, shaking his head and waving his hand “Nevermind..so when are Ma and Taiho gettin’ back?” “Anytime now I reckon, car engines busted” she jabbed a thumb over to the garage where most of the smoke had now cleared “Suru ‘n’ I’ve been tinkerin’ at it all day, stubborn thing just don’t wanna work. Ma took an early start to the shop out in town with the car engine out of action and Taiho went along to help with the bags” Higari hummed, missing how Ectoplasm was now looking at him “Ah, that would explain the smoke I guess” From there things went smoothly, it had been maybe around thirty minutes before Higari’s mother and one of his younger brothers came home, but in that time he, Higari and his two sisters had spent most of the time chatting about this or that. While Ectoplasm created three clones to help, Higari was currently inspecting the tuff of hair that his baby brother was growing from his chin “When the fuck did you get a beard?” Taiho, who Ectoplasm had learnt just from a small conversation seemed like a friendly guy, chuckled “Well I am an adult” “Keep growin’ that thing out and soon you it’ll be growing flowers” Taiho dramatically batted his hair with the back of his hand “Jealous?~” he asked Higari mocked laughing “Har Har, yeah yeah I get it, you and Chikara both got the glossy hair from dad” “You also got his memory I’d say” Higari turned to his mother, who had handed of the last of the shopping to a clone before turning back to Higari. Even if she was only taller by a few feet Higari still felt himself panic a little when she walked over with her famous resting scowl face “An’ just when where you gonna make some time to come see your family Hm? You sure ain’t been down a lot to visit from that big old shiny city” “Ah- Ma I said I was sorry!” Higari said while waving his hands, which made his mother give an unimpressed hum “What bout your letters?” She asked, Higari not sure if she was squinting or glaring “Ah-Well-“ he stumbled over his words, and Taiho was quick to show he wasn’t going to help him, the traitor. “Ya know, workin’ at a big school and doing hero stuff got me busy! I can’t help it if something pops up at work” His mother hummed again, as if silently judging him based on his answer, before her expression turned soft, and she ruffled up his already messy hair “..Thought I told you to start combing this” Higari chuckled, gently brushing her hand away “Uhm, you have no idea how hard it is to make space for things like brushing my hair!” He said in a joking manner, making his mother raise an amused brow before chuckling. “An’ who’s this tall fella you brought along with you?” She asked, leaning to one side to peer at Ectoplasm with a studying look, all humour gone as suspicion took its place. Ectoplasm felt a brief moment of panic before Higari stepped in to explain “Ma, this is Ectoplasm, my boyfriend” His mother gave him a sideways glance, hummed, and then looked back to Ectoplasm. She narrowed her eyes more, and Ectoplasm felt oddly small under her stare. Humming again she walked closer, circled him once, and then gave him a quick look up and down. Ectoplasm, feeling as though he should say something cleared his throat “Uhm, hello there Mrs Maijima, it’s nice to finally meet Higari’s family” once again he held out a hand, to which Higari’s mother blinked at, and rose a brow “..Uh- I hope you don’t mind me coming to visit, Higari wanted to introduce me to you, and I can’t lie I was excited at the idea of meeting you. He always has such interesting childhood stories to tell!” His mother hummed again, slowly...before a smug smile came to her lips and she slowly turned to Higari, brow cocked “...And how long where you planning to keep this nice young man away from visitin’ us?”  Ectoplasm felt a chill of relief cool his body, shoulders that had been tense finally dropping as he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Nice to meet you too, Higari sure does talk plenty of you in the letters he manages to send. Said your some big hero back there in your city” Ectoplasm nodded “Though I also work as a maths teacher at UA high school.” Higari’s mother hummed again “Hm, maybe you could teach my son a thing or two” she joked, prompting an embarrassed groan from Higari. “I’m not that bad Ma!” “Oh hush!” His mother turned to him, brow cocked “You takin’ some advice from your boyfriend here might help ya out in the long run - might even help tame that wild mess of hair you got” she fondly roughly his hair playfully, and she let out a chuckle the likes of which only Higari could do to a T Higari swatted her hand away, and then grumbled something under his breath, arms crossed “I’ll be seein’ you all inside shortly” Higari nodded, the god damn snickering from Taiho and Chikara wasn’t making things any easier for him. Ectoplasm waited until Chikara and Taiho walked off towards the house before turning to Higari “Personally, I like your hair” he said “Gives you character~” Ectoplasm didn’t miss the shy smile Higari gave before he scurried after him to the house “So, hows life up in the concrete jungle?” Chikara asked, taking another bite out of a chicken leg while Higari re-entered the room with a can of beer “Usual, loud ‘n busy” he answered, cracking open his can and lazily chugging three gulps. “It can be pretty stressful working at such an elite school” Ectoplasm added “I’ll say!” Higari replied, leaning back up in his chair “You remember the student Hatsume I told you guys about in a letter once? I swear that kids trying to meet some kinda property damage quota!” Taiho and Chikara snickered, obviously not taking him seriously “Oh you think I’m joking, don’t you?” “Well..you could be kinda dramatic” “Could?” Taiho said while looking to Chikara, smirking that stupid amused smile of his. Higari’s reply was to kick him under the table, resulting in Taiho jumping, and him smirking in victory with a ‘heh’ - “Alright alright” Mrs Maijima ended the fight before it could start “Save it for later you two, we got a guest” she gestured towards Ectoplasm “Mind your manners” “It’s alright” Ectoplasm tried to reassure “I understand they’re joking” Mrs Maijima smiled tiredly “You really are a sweetheart.” Ectoplasm felt his smile widen at the compliment, especially one coming from Higari’s mother “Yeah” Chikara agreed, nodding “...Why can’t you be more like him Higari?” She smirked, shooting Higari a quick smug look to which Higari met with a playful glare “Shove off” The group had been so caught up in their own conversations that no one had heard the door open or close from down the hall. It wasn’t until Suru turned to offer a ‘Welcome back’ to the new guest did Higari peer up- “Hey ma” Hono said, lugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the kitchen “You’re later then usual Hono” his mother asked “..Aint any reason in particular?” Hono stood up, and turned to the table - Higari and him made eye contact. Hono scowled, and then looked away “Nah, just took a longer shift this week” he replied nonchalantly, trudging into the kitchen towards the fridge. The table had fallen oddly quite, everyone passing nervous worried looks, while Higari seemed frozen in his chair. Ectoplasm glanced to the newcomer, and then looked to Higari, as if asking for an explanation- “Ahem.” Taiho cleared his throat, and then leaned back on his chair “Uh-Higari came down to visit!” He called into the kitchen “Isnt that nice?” He asked The atmosphere was tense, Ectoplasm could sense it, yet for some reason he he felt like he should be quite.. From the kitchen there was a hum “Hm, yeah, nice he’s makin’ time for us” Hono returned to the kitchen, and Taiho let out a quite breath- “Nice to know he cares after leavin’ us to pick up the pieces for the last twenty years” he took a long, unhurried slurp of his beer, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand “Real considerate of you Higari” Higari sighed “Nice to see you too Hono..” Everyone at the table glanced off in different directions, expressions all the same “Hono.” Mrs Maijima’s voice was stern, eyes narrowed as she pointed to him “We talked ‘bout this”. Hono, unnerved at his mothers warning, rolled his eyes, before taking up the empty seat next to her - coincidentally enough, the chair opposite Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm did his best to try and relax, but the air around the dinner was now more tense then before, and even he was struggling to pretend it wasn’t, and he wasn’t even half sure of what was going on. “Who’s the guest?” Hono asked, pointing his fork towards him, making Ectoplasm lean back in his chair. Hono eyed him up suspiciously, a crease in his brows. Ectoplasm felt oddly small under his gaze, the rest of Higari’s siblings watching carefully. Ectoplasm put down his cutlery and offered a hand “I’m Ectoplasm, I believe your name is Hono?” his attempt to break the silence was met with Hono eyeing his hand, and then narrowing his eyes. “And they’re also the love of my life” Higari scowled cruelly, a look that even to Ectoplasm was a rare sight. With a smile that looked just a bit too forced Higari leaned one hand over, and pointed the end of Hono’s fork away “And while he’s here, you’re going to treat him with nothin’ but respect. Got it?” “....Oh” Hono looked to have realized something, before he turned his look towards Ecto. “So you’re the Ecto guy he kept mentioning in his letters huh?” He asked, his eyes lingering on Ectoplasm longer for what felt appropriate. Ectoplasm opened his mouth to speak, but almost ended up snapping it shut when Hono unexpectedly stabbed his fork into a piece of chicken on the serving plate, and then bit into it, eyes still locked onto him. Ectoplasm, not wanting to be rude despite being under his studying glare, nodded “Yes, though Ecto is just a nickname” Hono hummed “..Hero right?” “And teacher. I teach at UA along with Higari” Hono hummed again “UA Huh..” he pondered aloud “..Thought it was just a buncha fat cats and snobs up there, what’s some dumb snaggle-tooth doin’ in a place like that huh?” Mrs Maijima shot Hono a vicious look, slamming her fork to the table, and Ectoplasm blinked, more caught off guard then offended. Higari however twitched “Yer opinion on the matter is irrelevant. So why don’t you do us all a favour, and keep that trap shut?” “Tch. Or what?” Hono challenged, turning his attention to Higari who growled “You ain’t been home in years, you expect us to welcome you back in with some...” Hono regraded Ectoplasm with a look one might give garbage, Ectoplasm felt his brow crease “...Toothpick lookin’ city slicker hanging off your arm” he jabbed a thumb lazily to Ectoplasm, who blinked again, looking between Hono and then Higari - the air was quickly turning from heated to dangerous as Higari slammed his hands on the table and growled louder. “You had better be real careful about what you say next Hono” “Uh, guys, maybe we should just-“ Taiho tried to interject “Oh go lock lips with a rattle snack for all I care! You may have a say in that high ‘n fancy school but you’re at the bottom of the higharchy here! That goes double for your main squeeze” “Hono shut up-“ Chikara said through her teeth, attempting to shove Higari back into his chair. “Oh yeah cuz you’re the one runnin’ this house aren’t you Hono? I didn’t see you here making dinner for everyone, longer shift is what you said right?” Higari boredly picked up his can “That what you call sulking off now?” Hono bristled, Higari seeming to hit a sensitive spot as Hono’s hands slammed down on the table “Like YOU would fuckin’ know!” Hono suddenly stood up from his chair, his taller form making him tower over Higari, who was not shaken at his display of dominance. “Hono stop it!” Suru whispered sharply, glancing between her brothers- “Oh enlighten me little bro, what makes you so grown up huh? I bet picking fights with guests makes you feel like a real adult huh?” “Yeah, cuz you’re just a saint aren’t cha? Runnin’ off with yer tail tucked between your legs and hitched it off to the city” Ectoplasm narrowed his eyes, looking rapidly between the two in the face of imminent disaster “Bet your boyfriend here makes a real good placement for a kitchen wife huh?” Ectoplasm gapped, blinking more rapidly. “Dude!” Taiho stood up and attempted to push Hono back into his chair. “You leave him with messes to clean?? Let him pick up the pieces while you go flaunterin’ off with your do-hickeys and jim-jams in your cozy little workshop?” Higari seemed to stiffen, capped finger nails gripping his can a bit too tight, leaving behind light dents in the metal. Hono caught on, saw the change in his older brothers body language - he exploited it “Or is that just a special thing you leave for your family huh?” Hono leaned closer, mocking him. Higari’s eyes bore into him, other hand clenching into a fist - but he’d sworn off ever getting physically violent in the house. Higari tried hard not to loose his nerve, but his mind was already flooding back to his time at UA, flooding back too easily. The memories where as clear as day, and he hated it. A country boy like him suddenly up in the big city, surrounded by kids in what might as well have been a maze for him - a shy vulnerable little Higari drew unwanted attention, mean attention. A weird kid like him, all the mean kids seemed to love him. Really loved pushing him around in the hallway between classes, that always seemed to be their favorites. ..Yes, Ectoplasm had always been the one to help pick up his messes. Help pick him up when he was feeling down, help patch him up when he couldn’t even control his own student in the lab, help get his homework done because he forgot, help do his tie up because his fat fingers made it impossible. Yeah, Ectoplasm was always the one helping him out... Ectoplasm’s hand gripped Higari’s shoulder, comforting. Higari blinked, his touch grounding him back to the dinner table, bringing his mind out from the past. “Higari has always been considerate of my needs a-“ “I’m sorry mister hero-“ Hono fixed Extoplasm with a harsh look, and leaned in close to glower at him “I don’t think our family matters concern you” At seeing the shift of Hono’s anger now being focused onto a new target Taiho once again stood up and tried to force Hono back “Thats enough! Just sit do-“ “Bet pa’s just applaudin’ his lil’ Higari in his grave for how much he’s done for this family” Here did Taiho, Chikara and Suru all gasp, their mothers eyes widening as Higari was practically shaking, as if restraining himself “You watch your fucking mouth-“ “BOYS!” Everybody froze, all eyes snapping to Mrs Maijima. At the sight of the women’s chilling glare, all the Maijima children straightened up. Even Ectoplasm felt obliged to follow suit despite her anger not being directed at him “What in gods name on this earth is the matter with you two?!” She yelled, her voice like thunder “I don’t mind if you boys gotta settle things out your one way, but for Christ sake- pull yourselves together when we have a guest!” She threw a hand to gesture to Ectoplasm, who Hono scowled to again “But Ma-“ “ENOUGH Hono.” She bellowed “Can you two really not get along for one lousy dinner?” She glared hard at the two of them, both had their heads hung, scowling off at nothing. Hono snorted, shoved his chair back, and marched off to the backdoor, slamming it shut on his way out as Mrs Maijima pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. Ectoplasm looked around, feeling awkward “..I’m very sorry if I w-“ Mrs Maijima raised a slow hand and shook her head “Stop. You ain’t gotta apologise for nothin’” despite that she didn’t lift her head or open her eyes. “..Should I, Uh, go and talk with him?” Suru suggested, breaking the silence as she looked to the backdoor “No, leave him..” Mrs Maijima pulled her head back with another sigh, looking deflated “Might as well be trying to have a conversation with a rock when he’s like this..” she muttered to herself, a hand rubbing her eye “..Me ‘n Chi will clean the table” Taiho said, already standing to stack the plates. “..I need a moment” Higari said suddenly, pushing his chair out and making a beeline to the back door also, closing the door with a softer bang then Hono. Ectoplasm stood from his chair and went to follow “Don’t” Mrs Maijima said lightly, peering over to Ectoplasm who stopped to look back at her “..I know it might be confusing, but it’s best if we leave those two alone..” she sank back into her chair, the twins exchanged concerned glances “For now..” “...Why don’t you go upstairs and have an early night?” Taiho suggested, handing the plates over to Suru who hurried them off to the kitchen “We can clean things up for ya” their mother only nodded, her authoritative presence entirely gone as she slowly dragged herself towards the stairway. Ectoplasm looked back over to the back door, looking torn between darting after Higari or staying like she had asked. In the end he stayed, though he wasn’t happy with the choice, he only did it in favour of respect for Higari’s mother - besides, he could agree if he went now it might do more harm then good. Higari despite being so small had a very fierce temper. After all had been put away in the kitchen and the table cleaned - and after many apologies from the rest of Higari’s siblings - Higari still hadn’t come back inside, it was getting slightly dark, Ectoplasm couldn’t help but worry. After asking for directions he walked to the back of the kitchen to a doorway, opened it, and walked out into the garage on the other side. Walking down the metal stairway he walked round one side of the parked car, and opened the passenger door “Room for a passenger?” He tried to joke, an attempt at lighting the mood. Higari didn’t move his head from his resting arms above the car wheel, and didn’t object when Ectoplasm clambered in anyway. “...Did the others tell you I was here?” He asked quietly. “No” Ectoplasm replied, making himself comfy “I figured it out. You always did your deepest thinking in the design studio - a garage seemed like the next best option.” Higari hummed into his sleeve, but still didn’t look up “..Do you want to talk about it?” “No.” Higari replied clearly, brows creasing a little, his mention of earlier obviously not pleasing him. Ectoplasm peered down at his feet and rubbed at his neck “If you’d prefer it if I le-“ “No” Higari reached his hand out, grabbed Ectoplasm’s, and then brought the hand to his face, leaning his cheek it in while his thumb gently brushed across the back of his hand. Ectoplasm was frozen for a moment, before he shuffled round as best he could in the passengers seat to Higari “I’m..Ecto I-..I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-“ “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for” Ectoplasm was quick to say, knowing how Higari had a bad habit of getting upset with himself when things went wrong. “You didn’t do anything wrong” “But I DID!” Higari said, his eyes having a shine to them “I-.Ecto this was supposed to be a nice dinner for you and-and I made you sit through all that fighting! Maybe if I hadn’t been so thick headed it wouldn’t have even escalated the way it did” Ectoplasm frowned, studying him “I don’t blame you for arguing back, anyone would in your shoes..and I appreciate you trying to defend me” Higari didn’t look convinced, and with a sigh sunk down into his chair, hands pulling down his face before he leaned his head into them. Ectoplasm reached out a tentative hand and rested it on Higari’s back. “Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked, trying to pry Higari to peer out from his hands. Higari slowly lowered his hands, and then rubbed at his face with a grumble “...I think..it’s best we just head home” “Now?” Ectoplasm blinked “But..we planned to stay for a few hours after dinner” “I don’t think that’d be the best..” Higari said quietly, a silent prayer that Ectoplasm would understand his reasons. A long silence fell over the two, before Ectoplasm gave his shoulder a squeeze “If that’s what you want to do” he said with a gentle tone. Higari smiled over to him, reaching up to hold his hand before the two got out of the car and ventured back into the home. “You’re leaving already?” Taiho said with a blink, half way pulling a carton of milk from the fridge “Yeah Taiho..” Higari replied, not seeming able to make eye contact as he scuffed at the ground “Me ‘n Ecto are gonna head out, catch a taxi to the train station” the twins peered to each other awkwardly, not sure how to respond “Oh..Uh” Chikara got down from the kitchen stool “You want me to see you to town?” She asked “Nah, don’t worry. We’ll be fine, tell Ma I’ll be sure to write more when I get back home alright?” Higari had already turned on his feet and began walking to the door, the twins responding with the own forms of agreement to his request “See ya round Ectoplasm” Taiho said, a sad quality to his smile “Safe travels” Chikara added. Ectoplasm nodded, picking up his coat from the hanger “Despite what occurred, it was nice to meet you two” Taiho tried to smile “Yeah, you too..” he said, shaking the milk to Ecto. As Ectoplasm did the first few buttons on his coat Chikara spoke up before he could leave “Keep..” she hesitated, looking away and tapping her knuckle on the countertop “...Keep an eye on Higari for us. You take care of him” “...I will” Ectoplasm said with a nod, both twins smiling back gratefully Joining Higari out in the hallway he stopped in the doorway just as Hono came walking up into the house. He and Higari held eye contact, the air still. Higari licked his lips “Uh..” he sighed “Hono-“ With a grunt the taller brother shoved past him, rudely knocking Higari with his leg as he shoved past him to the stairs “Hono wait!” Suru followed after him, sparing Higari a very quick apologetic look before hurrying up the stairs. Higari was painfully quite for the whole trip back to UA. By the time they’d gotten back it was late, and cold, the two not hanging around as they marched on till they reached Heights Alliance. The other teachers where fairly surprised to see them back earlier then they had said, but Higari paid their greetings no mind. Even when they where in the privacy of their shared apartment Higari was still quite, kicking off his boots and tossing off his coat before he crawled his way into bed “...I’m going to make myself a hot drink” Ectoplasm called, awaiting a reply “...........Mhm....” “...Do you want anything?” When no reply came, Ectoplasm dismissed his evening drink and walked into the bedroom. Higari was curled up in his normal clothes on his side of the bed, half lidded eyes glossy and staring off into nothing. The mattress dipped behind him as Ectoplasm sat down “Higari, please talk to me..” he gently placed his hand on his shoulder Higari curled up before relaxing, though he still didn’t turn to him “..If you’re worried tonight has changed my view on you it hasn’t” he confirmed first up, nothing would ever change the way he looked at Higari. They’d been together way back since the early days in his hero career, it’d take a lot more then a family dinner catastrophe to change that. Higari turned his head slightly, but then let it fall back in its place. “Higari, I don’t like it when you’re quite” Ectoplasm’s voice lowered, obvious sadness seeping into his tone, it made Higari sink down more into the bed “.....Please?...” “....Ecto?” Higari spoke calmly, eyes still staring off at the wall “If it’s okay with you, I think I..would like to, uh, c-cry for a bit..” his tone wavered, body trembling as tears had began leaking down his cheeks “I feel like I messed things up and..a-and..” his voice trailed off into a whimper, one hand reached up to wipe at his nose “Oh Higari..” Ectoplasm laid down next to him and rolled him towards him, enveloping Higari in his arms as he sobbed into his shoulder

[thecagedsong]

Chapter 12: Home 

Hello Friends,

It looks like you’re cleverer than the Sphinx said you were. Good for you. You’ve set back my timeline, and not many can claim that particular feat, congratulations. Now it’s time to focus on Kendra, how to make the best use of her? So many ideas, none of them involve negotiating with light-lovers.

Until we clash again.

The lemonade had been yummy with just the right amount of sour. It was a shame their ball had knocked the pitcher to the ground. Seth had fumbled Tess’s pass, thinking about Ronodin’s note in the barrel. It had been in the barrel when they finally set down after leaving Wyrmroost. Now Seth was letting it distract him from distracting his cousins. The distraction wasn’t even worth it, as he still hadn’t found anything in the note that he could use that they hadn’t already thought of before now.

“Should we clean that up?” Seth asked. Knox hopped out of the pool to grab the ball, set the pitcher right, and jumped back in.

“Nahh, I just dripped a bunch of water on it, and what else are we going to do?” he replied. “Come on, another round.”

Dale had been able to construct a small basketball hoop while they were gone, but it was too short for anyone but Tess on dry land. Seth had suggested putting it over the pool, and it was much more challenging. It was Tess and Seth v Knox, and Knox was winning 6-3.

“Last point,” Seth said, “Then I want to grab something to eat.”

Tess grinned at Seth as Knox checked him the ball. He sent it back.

“Super secret surprise attack!” Tess yelled, jumping on her brother’s shoulders. With a whole lot of squirming, Seth managed to steal the ball from Knox, who kept crying “foul!” and made the final point.

“You cheaters,” he said, holding Tess up by the arm. She grinned.

Seth dunked himself in the pool one last time to cool off, then got out. “You won the game, that last point didn’t matter anyway.”

They got out and dried off, Knox collecting his basketball. Just as they were about to leave the pool area, Knox turned around and made a longshot.

“Nothing but net,” he said, pumping a fist. It was pretty cool, but Seth wasn’t going to let Knox know that.

“You have to get it now,” he pointed out.

“Worth it.”

Grandma Larsen made sandwiches for lunch. With the secret out, they decided to just live together in the main house. There was enough rooms, especially with Tess and Knox sharing the attic. This was the first time Seth was at Fablehaven and not staying there, but three was kind of a crowd, and he was a little proud that his Grandparents knew he didn’t need the protections of the attic anymore.

Or maybe they just thought he’d ruin the protections with his spotty record. Anyway, he was fine with the arrangement.

Tess went immediately to the Journal of Secrets after drying off and brought it to the lunch table. Grandma Larsen whisked it off the table as she set lunch down, citing that Kendra wouldn’t want sticky fingers over her journal.

“Any news from Agad?” Seth asked as the Sorensons came down for lunch.

Grandma Sorenson shook her head, “Your possible teachers are very limited. The Sphinx would have been ideal if, surprise, he hadn’t turned on us once again. This is the hard part, but we’ve been here before.”

“What about rumors of a Nova Song?” Seth asked, “Maddox know anything?”

“Just that he’d give an arm and a leg for one,” Grandpa Sorenson said, shaking his head. “He’s looking too, Seth.”

“Dale, Hugo, Hank and I made a lot of progress on the stables for flying mounts. Tomorrow I was planning on going into town for some more literature and games to populate them with and keep our Luvian friends entertained,” Grandma Larsen offered. “Anyone interested in coming with me?”

“Will there be ice cream?” Tess asked.

Grandma Larsen pretended to think about it, “I suppose. It’s going to be a lot of stuff to carry, my helpers should be rewarded.”

“Can I invite one of my fairy friends?” Tess asked, getting excited.

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “I’m sorry sweetie, but the magical creatures can’t leave the preserve.” Tess opened her mouth to argue, “Even if they promise to come right back. It’s an important part of the treaty. We can also pick up some new seeds though, for your friends that like flowers.”

“Okay!” Tess said, “I’m going to go tell them right now!” Tess ran into the garden, passing Tanu as he entered.

“Sorry!” Tess called, racing past.

“Welcome Tanu, were you and Hugo able to find what you were looking for?” Grandma Sorenson asked.

“I found a good tract of land for an Oak grove,” Tanu said, “It’s a little hard to tell exactly what breed of oak tree the seeds are, or the requirements for living wood, but the more humid climate near the marsh should accommodate most varieties. With the help of some fairies, the grove will be set up in a couple of years. We have ten seeds, and to plant them all, we’ll need a bit wider space than currently available. I was hoping to take Seth this afternoon to negotiate with the Hag.”

“Sure,” Seth said. “Anything. Lowly Vatka was pretty cool. You’ll need to ask Tess about the fairies though.”

“Better take Hank with you,” Grandma Larsen said, “The caretaker has the right to visit once a year, and on demand. He’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

“I can come,” Knox said casually. “Help plant the trees.”

The grandparents exchanged a look, and Seth knew exactly what was coming. Weird that it wasn’t directed at him for once.

“Knox,” Gloria said, “The hag is most certainly one of the more dangerous creatures on the preserve. Her favorite pastime is lay false trails that send people drowning. And she’s old, she won’t take kindly to visitors, or our request to grow a forest on the edge of her land.”

“Anything Seth can do, so can I,” Knox said, puffing out his chest. “I was fine at Wyrmroost.” He turned to Seth, “Especially with Grandpa Larsen along, we’ll be fine. Tell them.”

Seth shifted uncomfortably. Grandpa Sorenson raised an eyebrow. “Well, its not up to me,” Seth said, looking down at his plate. “Grandpa and Grandma Larsen are caretakers here.”

He was hedging, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t believe this. Am I grounded or something?” Knox asked.

“Well, you did sneak into the dungeons and land yourself in one of the seven most dangerous preserves in the world on a whim.” Grandpa Stan said, “We aren’t going to reward that behavior, if that’s what you’re wondering. And then, if I recall correctly, you convinced two satyrs to take yourself and your 9-year-old sister across said preserve, using an untested magic item, again, without permission from either the caretakers or us, after the dragons had declared war on all mortal kind and your cousins especially.”

“But Seth did stuff like that when he was just starting out!” Knox protested.

The stares turned back to Seth, who groaned, “Yeah, and I was grounded to the yard tons of times for that. I left out those parts, but your actions have consequences. No, we don’t blame you for Kendra’s kidnapping, but they can totally blame you for breaking their trust and sneaking into the barrel.”

Knox looked around, and saw that no one was going to budge. Grandma Larsen looked a little like she wanted to offer to have him go shopping with her and Tess tomorrow, but decided against it.

“Fine,” Knox said, standing up, “I’ll be in my room then. No one will have to worry about me going anywhere. Let’s make the grounding real.”

He stomped up the stairs.

“That was rude,” Seth accused. “Why did you guys let him make me the bad guy?”

“Just a check to see how much you’ve grown, and as I saw it, Knox would only have listened to you,” Tanu said with a chuckle. “Make sure you have a pair of galoshes before we go.”

The fieldtrip in Hugo’s cart went much smoother than Seth had expected it to. Probably because it felt like years since Seth went off to do a single task that didn’t derail itself halfway through. He knew it was all Kendra’s fault when that happened. Seth led them through the marsh, not tricked by the false trails. They negotiated the boundaries with Gintra through Seth speaking her language, promising her two goats and a kid and a new cloak in exchange for the necessary land.

Seth nearly choked when Grandpa Larsen offered to give her a kid, but Tanu whispered that all parties involved knew that meant a baby goat, and they went forward.

Hugo stopped a ways away from the house.

“Hugo?” Seth asked, leaning over his shoulder, “What’s up buddy?”

“New people coming,” Hugo rumbled. “Dragon.”

Seth shared a startled look with the others.

“I have my dragon fear potions right here,” Tanu said, patting his bag.

“A dragon is too big a threat to the treaty to ignore,” Grandpa Hank said, “Fablehaven’s boundaries aren’t meant to deal with the magic of dragons. Hugo, take us to the dragon.”

Hugo turned and started in a new direction. Grandpa and Tanu downed their potions grimly.

“Could it be a wild dragon?” Seth asked, “I mean, Wyrmroost is the nearest dragon sanctuary, and Agad said it was fine this morning. I know there were some dragons who agreed to live in peace outside the preserves.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Grandpa Larsen said, rubbing the stubble on his face. “Unlikely. While the dragons are able to communicate with each other between sanctuaries, they are supposed to be completely cut off from their free kin, that was a stipulation. But it’s supposed to be impossible that there’s a dragon here at all.”

Seth remembered Celebrant’s victorious, swiping claw. He’d been hoping for a little break from dragons. To go back to dealing with demons and the undead for a bit, before coming face to face with another dragon, but he could handle it.

Hugo was cutting cross country in the way only he could. They didn’t talk anymore.

“Huh?” Grandpa Larsen asked, “The Naiad pond?”

Seth focused, and realized they were, in fact, approaching the pond around the hedge. Was it a shortcut or…

“Raxtus!” Seth said, climbing up to look over Hugo’s shoulder.

“Who’s there?” called the dragon.

“It’s Fablehaven! Who do you think it is?” Seth called. Tanu pulled him down when the archway nearly took his head, but he just grinned and popped up again. Sure enough, Raxtus was standing on the lawn. A silvery white dragon, he was about the size of Charlemagne, but much longer in the tail and neck.

“Hey Seth,” the dragon said, “I brought something for you guys. Oh, um, hi,” Raxtus said, bowing his head when he noticed Grandpa and Tanu get off Hugo as well.

“Raxtus, this is my Grandpa Larsen, and I can’t remember if you’ve met Tanu,” Seth introduced, “Guys, meet Raxtus, son of Celebrant and literally the best dragon ever.”

“An interesting recommendation,” Grandpa Larsen said, bowing, “Please call me Hank. I’ve heard much about you from my grandchildren.”

Raxtus turned to Seth, his eyes sad, “Mizelle filled me in on what happened to Kendra. Kidnapped by Ronodin and lost her memory? I’m really worried for her.”

“We’re working on it,” Seth said, “I promise.”

“May I ask why you brought us a canoe?” Tanu asked. Seth finally noticed the wooden canoe behind Raxtus. It was long and had swirly painted red designs decorated the sides.

“Is it a clever boat?” Seth asked, getting excited.

Raxtus tilted his head, “What’s a clever boat? No this is —” suddenly Warren appeared in the boat, lying down. Seth scrambled forward and touched him.

“Seth?” Warren asked. He blinked and looked around, “Right, Fablehaven. Good pick Raxtus.”

Warren climbed out and stretched. A few moments later Vanessa appeared and Warren helped her up.

“Home sweet home,” Vanessa said, doing the same stretching as Warren.

“I bet you’re honestly surprised by how much you mean that,” Warren teased, nudging her shoulder.

She lightly punched him back, “You’ll be waiting a long time Burgess, if you’re waiting for me to go soft.”

“It is good to see you two safe and well,” Tanu said. Vanessa and Tanu gripped forearms, while Warren went for the hug.

“We managed to get a small foothold back in the Cresent Lagoon,” Warren said, “We’re here to make our official report and recruit what help we can.”

“Better wait until we’re in Stan’s office then,” Grandpa Larsen said. “We can head back, and Hugo can carry the canoe. Raxtus, will you accompany us?”

The dragon shook his head, “I’m kind of running between sanctuaries and trying to keep tabs of everyone and my ears open for Kendra. I’m going to say hi to my adoptive mom and then head back out.”

The headed back, and Warren pulled Seth towards the back of the group.

“Kendra’s kidnapped again,” Warren said.

“At least we didn’t have to have a funeral this time,” Seth said. “And I have it on pretty good authority that Ronodin wants Kendra alive.”

“How good?”

“Bracken’s sister.”

“Pretty good.”

They walked in silence a few minutes.

“I hate not being able to help her,” Warren admitted, clenching a fist. “I had to be where I was, but I can’t help but feel like if I was there, I could have changed something. It always feels like this when it comes to Kendra, I’ve gotten sickeningly used to it. Honestly, are you doing okay?”

Seth really thought about the answer. Warren let him.

“I broke down pretty bad when she was taken,” Seth admitted, stopping so the others went on ahead. “And now, I don’t know, it feels more like when she was off artifact hunting and I was stuck trying to figure out how to crash her adventure. I don’t know if it’s because I know she’s being kept near Bracken, or everything is just too much for me to think of it like anything else.

“I’m kinda scared it’s all going to hit me again, and I’m going to fall apart. But if I keep busy enough, maybe I’ll be able to find her first.”

Warren put a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you for being honest. You’re tough Seth, possibly the toughest kid out there, but tough kids and tough adults need breaks, time to just feel. If you think you’re going to break, or you need to break, let me know and I’ll make space and handle things until you’re ready again.”

Seth’s throat was too thick to speak, so he just nodded. As they approached the yard his voice came back.

“And if there’s anyone tougher than me, it’s Kendra,” Seth said. “We fought over who would turn the Key of Forgetting, but she wouldn’t let me. She wanted everyone to know that she loved them, you and Vanessa especially. Thought I should share the message.”

It was Warren’s turn to nod.

They reached the yard and Tess ran up, “Look Seth! The fairies taught me how to make a flower crown! They did special stuff so there are no loose ends! Put it on!”

Warren stepped up beside him, looking amused, and Tess went silent.

“Oh, who’s this?” Warren asked, crouching. “You make a great flower crown.”

Tess looked at the crown in her hands, then at Warren. She squealed and thrust the crown at him, then ran away.

“That’s Tess, little cousin on Mom’s side,” Seth said. “She’s fairy struck, and probably just developed a crush on you.”

“Well, that’s a backstory I’m dying to hear,” Warren put on the flower crown, and posed for Seth, “Does the red make my eyes pop?” he asked fluttering his lashes.

Seth laughed, and Warren wore the crown into the house.

They were in Grandpa’s study, and Warren and Vanessa hadn’t been missing out on adventure. Rampaging Triclops, magic pearls, and dragons to spare, all dependent on island spirits to keep them in line. Island spirits shaped like those big nosed stone heads.

“But most important,” Warren said, “We have reason to believe Ronodin corrupted a pool there.”

“Why would he do that?” Seth asked.

“We don’t know,” Vanessa said with a smile, “And while it is possible there is some significance to the pool that the caretaker is unaware of, it is also likely that his work is not done.”

“Which means he might be back,” Seth said, getting excited, “Or we might find one of the caves to the Underking’s domain nearby.”

There was a sudden ringing sound, and Grandpa Sorenson fished out a cell phone. “Agad, yes, Warren and Vanessa just caught us up. We were about to start brainstorming solutions on our end. Tanu is ready to head out again, and we were trying to figure out who else to send.”

Grandpa froze, then nodded. “Why am I entirely unsurprised? Anything on Kendra?”

It was frustrating to sit there, and not be able to hear everything. He wasn’t the only one. Vanessa and Warren were gripping hands, his grandmothers both looked tense, and Grandpa Larsen was swirling his glass.

“Okay Agad, I’ll let them know.”

Grandpa Sorenson sighed, “I won’t hold you in suspense. Talizar’s den is at the Crescent Lagoon. Seth, you mentioned that this demon approached you in a dream scape. Do you think you could negotiate with him into learning more about your abilities without making things worse?”

He thought back to Talizar. Both himself and Kendra’s demon friend vouched that he hated dragons more than enough to want Seth to win the war against the dragons. He seemed fairly neutral on Seth’s demise, and hurting people in general. It would stink that Talizar was right, and Seth would seek him out in the real world, but that wasn’t enough of a reason not to do it.

He would need to be fully trained to use Lady Luck, or sneak into the Underking’s domain. Talizar had made some pretty big promises. With a plan and some help, and now that he wasn’t in a vulnerable place like the dreamscape, he might be able to walk away from this experience. He had four months by Mizelle’s deadline.

“I don’t want to make a mistake like I did with Granulas,” Seth said. “Talizar didn’t seem so bad, but neither did Granulas. I think I could work something out, but I’m also going to be missing something, or I’ll trust him and I’ll get someone else killed.”

“If it is a matter of trusting your judgement,” Vanessa said, “That needs to be dealt with now. I have seen second guessing kill too many allies. You need to learn that trust can be pieced apart. That is necessary in interacting with demons. You may trust that you have a similar goal. You do not trust them as you would another human. You do not trust them with things you care about. If you can’t piece apart the trust needed to learn from everything else, then you should not be attempting to negotiate with a demon at all, and we will find another way.”

Could he do it? Life had taught him the answer to that question.

“I can do anything if it means helping Kendra,” Seth said, resolved. “With some help to make sure I’m not leaving any loopholes, I can handle Talizar.”

“I believe that I will be an asset, in that case,” Grandma Larsen said, “Like Vanessa, I spent years working with the Society of the Evening Star, I second what she has said about coming out of a deal with a demon, and have much to add besides. While tracking Ronodin and attempting to retake the preserve, my goal will be to keep Seth safe. Is that satisfactory?”

Grandpa Sorenson eyed her suspiciously, “Why do I feel like this is how you claim full ownership of the Sombrosa Swords?”

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “Stan, we both know darn well I should have been their owner back in 83’. If it takes a mission protecting our grandson for your pride to finally hand them over, well, that’s on your conscious.”

“I had you pinned,” Grandpa Sorenson retorted, “the ref would have finished counting if the umbrakas hadn’t gotten loose!”

Grandma Sorenson put a hand to her head, “Stan, just give her the swords. They haven’t been much use hanging in our bedroom. We’ll be the nice, diplomatic grandparents.”

“With crossbows,” Warren added.

Grandma Sorenson smiled as his help, “Yes, with crossbows and broadswords and leadership positions. They can be the secret agent grandparents with butterfly dao, rapiers, and masks.”

“So…Seth, Vanessa, Tanu, Gloria, and I should be getting back to Crescent Lagoon?” Warren checked.

“Dress for warm weather,” Vanessa advised.

A/N: Shorter chapter for Seth, finally. I love the boy, but he has been hogging the action so far. Mostly set up, some comeuppance, some favs, lots of character. Chapter thirteen is the chapter I’ve been dying to post though, easily one of my favorites. Look for that one, cause Kendra gets to see someone besides Ronodin!

[echoghost1]

Tagged

Word Count: 1931

For: @lexiepiper

Summary: Dr. Flora Santos and her partner Dr. Carlos Rodriguez have lucked out as they have finally caught their most elusive subject.

You can read it on AO3 or down below the cut

“I got it!” Rodriguez cheered, “Quick pull over!”

“I know! I know!”

The van’s brakes squeal at the sudden stop and the two jump out before the engine is even fully off.

Not ten yards ahead is their target, slowly making its descent down to the base of a nearby tree. It hovers for a moment before succumbing to gravity and dropping the last couple of feet to the grass below.

It hadn’t fallen over yet, but it’s swayed dangerously.

It took a few stumbling steps forward and Santos caught it before it faceplanted.

“Whoa, I can’t believe I actually got Phantom,” Rodriguez whispered as he approached. “I also can’t believe you beat me over here.”

“Well, I did go to state and place every year I was in track,” Santos teased, “Maybe you just need to get good?”

“Not fair! Us academics are supposed to stick together and not comingle with the jocks. Why do you gotta betray us like that?”

“Running’s good for thinking. Now could you shut your mouth for two seconds and help me with this? It’s surprisingly heavy.”

“Oh right, sorry.” Rodriguez set down his messenger bag and they carefully lay Phantom on the ground.

“Okay, I think we should start with the basic measurements first while it’s still.” Santos decided as she looked the ghost boy over.

It was amazing just how corporeal it was up close. She would have assumed it would have at least some translucency, but it was completely opaque.

Rodriguez snapped a few photos for reference then handed Santos the measuring tape.

They worked in practiced silence. Easily able to do their predesignated tasks without another word.

It’s not as if they couldn’t talk, it just seemed better to work that way when their subject was unconscious.

It also helped to work silently if said subject decided to wake up early.

Santos had just finished her last task and set the device aside when the ghost groaned.

Both Rodriguez and Santos froze and locked eyes with each other. This wasn’t good. Rodriguez checked his watch and showed that they should still have five minutes left.

The ghost groaned again and started to move.

Rodriguez started to put away their tools as quickly and quietly as he could before he started to pull Santos away with him.

“Uh man, what hit me?” Phantom mumbled to itself as it sat up. It kept its eyes closed and a hand to its head.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. The guide said it was a level seven, it got the level seven dose, why was it waking up five minutes early?

Was their source wrong? Was Phantom really stronger than that? It had to be if it was able to burn through the sedative so quickly.

“Flora let’s go,” Rodriguez whispered through his teeth as he tugged on her arm.

She knew they should leave. They should be running at top speed and hoping that Phantom ignores them, but she couldn’t move. She had to know why it was awake.

“You okay?” she asked.

Phantom turned and trained its bright green eyes right into her own brown ones, “Yeah I think so.” it tilted its head to the side, “Who are you?”

It still looked tired, not fully coherent yet.

“I’m Dr. Flora Santos. And this is my friend Dr. Carlos Rodriguez.”

It blinked slowly, like words weren’t quite making sense just yet, “Dr. Flower?” it said slowly, then smiled. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.” that wasn’t the first time someone had said her name wrong, but it wasn’t the worst. It was actually kind of cute.

“Flora what are you doing? We aren’t supposed to interact with them.” Rodriguez was clearly trying to talk without the ghost hearing him but was quite unsuccessful due to their proximity.

“You never learn anything by doing what you’re told.” She was a budding ectobiologist and it made no sense to not at least try and communicate with the sentient ones. Especially Phantom. It was such an enigma. Maybe understanding it could lead to a breakthrough?

They’d never know if they never tried.

And it’s not like Phantom would hurt them. It had shown time and again that it wasn’t hostile to humans or any living thing as long as they presented itself as peaceful first.

Rodriguez was still nervous but he stopped tugging on her arm. “He’s supposed to be a seven,” he muttered more to himself than anything as he readjusted his bag.

“Seven?” Phantom asked looking from Rodriguez to Santos and then decided sitting was too much effort and laid back into the grass, “I’m not seven. I mean I know I’m short, but geez.” it flopped its left arm over its eyes, “I’m sixteen okay? I’m gonna hit my growth spurt eventually. Mom just says I’m a late bloomer. ‘Don’t get discouraged’, she says, ‘you’ll be so tall just you wait,” it sighed dramatically, “Well I’m waiting, mom!”

The two scientists look at each other and Santos mouths, “write that down.”

“Everything?” Rodriguez mouths back looking a little confused.

Santos nods eagerly and decides to see if just how much she can coax out of the ghost boy.

“Well if it makes you feel any better my little cousin Riccardo didn’t hit his growth spurt until just before he graduated. It seemed like he waited until after his mom ordered the graduation clothes that he shot up like a tree. Now he’s easily six feet tall and still growing.

Phantom peeked from under its arm, the glow of its luminous eyes casting odd shadows and it made its eyesockets look hollow except for the green light. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, it’s true.” And it was. Little Riccardo wasn’t so little anymore. He towered over most of the family now. No one is sure where he got all that height. His brother Alverez jokes that he stole a few inches from everyone else.

“Really?” it asked again finally dropping its arm back at its side.

“Really.” She wasn’t sure how much that meant to a ghost though. She didn’t think it would get any taller, or any older. It was actually sad to know it was still just a kid.

Forever waiting for something that would never come.

“Well, my friend and I have to get going. Are you going to be okay by yourself?” she asked trying her best not to insinuate that it wasn’t strong enough to take care of itself. Ghosts could be easily offended by things like that.

It was hard not to show concern for it though. Knowing it was someone’s son once.

It took a breath a floated into a sitting position, “Yeah, I should be good. By the way, what time is it?”

Rodriguez checked his watch, “About a quarter to eleven.”

“It’s that late already? I gotta,” it hesitated, “I should go.” it thumbs behind him gesturing at nowhere imparticular. “See you around?”

Santos nods and waves him off.

The pair just stand under the tree and watch the ghost boy float away into the night until he’s just another speck of light among the stars and nighttime flights.

Santos heads back to the van with Rodriguez close behind. They had a lot to write in their report tonight if they wanted it to be ready for the morning news tomorrow.

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

Danny floated invisibly through his open bedroom window and transformed over his bed. Happy to let gravity hold him down as he landed on his unmade bed.

He kicked off his shoes and just decided to phase his jeans off and bury himself in his comforter. His pajamas were way too far away if he was passing out while on patrol.

Jazz might be on to something with him needing more sleep.

He wasn’t going to tell her that of course. Can’t let her head get too big after all.

Danny chuckled at the thought of Jazz’s head inflating like those dumb airhead commercials. He pulled the nearest pillow that wasn’t under his head into his arms and buried his face into it.

“Just go to sleep, Danny.” he chided himself before finally doing just that.

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

“Danny did you sleep through your alarm again?” his mom’s voice called as she knocked on his door.

Danny groaned and blindly reached for his alarm to shut it off. “No.” he lied.

“Just be down in five or you won’t have time for breakfast.”

He sat up and opened his eyes only to regret the action. The morning sun was much too bright today. Did someone turn up the brightness setting on the thing?

“Wait, what?” he was starting to sound like Tucker. Or maybe Sam?

He sighed, he was clearly still too tired for this.

He got dressed as quickly as he could by just slipping his jeans from yesterday back on and changing his shirt out for the first one he touched in his closet. It turned out to be the Dumpty Humpty shirt he had bought when he and his friends went to the concert a few years back.

He came downstairs and gave a casual wave to his Dad who was sitting on the couch watching the morning news.

Danny grabbed the closest box of cereal, gave it a shake to check that it wasn’t empty, then took it with him to the table as he gathered his bowl.

He was mindlessly munching away on the cheerios when his mom gasped.

He looked up and found she was staring at him.

She looked rather worried.

That wasn’t good.

He swallowed his most recent spoonful not even bothering to finish chewing it, “What’s up?” he asked wondering what the heck he did wrong this time. Were his powers malfunctioning and he just hadn’t noticed?

As much as he doubted that to be the case, with how tired he was and just how unlucky he was, he had a feeling that he shouldn’t rule it out completely.

“Your ear,” she whispered.

Danny dropped his spoon into his bowl, the milk splashed onto the table, but he didn’t care. He instantly reached up and cupped his ears hoping that they hadn’t mutated in his sleep and he was now sporting pointy ears like an elf or a bad Spock cosplay.

Thankfully, that wasn’t it.

His thumb twitched and the nail clicked against something plastic.

That wasn’t there before.

He ran to the bathroom and gripped the sink for dear life as he stared at his reflection. There’s an earring where there wasn’t one before.

No, not an earring. A tag. Like the ones found on animals.

Danny’s hand shook as it slowly dawned on him that the nice Dr. Flower he had met last night wasn’t a dream and that she must have been a scientist.

She was a conservationist.

He was their subject of study.

He tugged on the tag and tried to make it intangible.

Nothing happened.

Someone stood in the open bathroom doorway.

He turned to see his mom, staring at him. At the tag.

There was no way she didn’t know what it meant.

He could just barely hear the tv in the living room. Dr. Flower, or whatever her real name was, was going on about how excited she was about all the future discoveries that studying Phantom in his natural habitat would lead to.

There was no way he could keep his secret now. It was good as gone.

He slowly lowered his hand and just waited for her to make the first move.

[miss-eucatastrophe]

Pairing: Levi x Erwin x Mike x Thick!Reader/PlusSize!Reader

Summary: When you purchased your first home you’d anticipated it being a turning point in your life. You just didn’t anticipate that turn to give you whiplash. 

A new home throws you into a new lifestyle you would have never thought you’d find yourself in-- with three men you’d never expected to be with. 

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Main Tags: Polyamory/Polyamorous relationship, BDSM, Attack on Titain Modern AU, Slow Burn

A/N: Hey all, Just some things about the reader in this fic before you get invested:

I keep the reader ambiguous in appearance and use [y/n]. Use of [y/n] becomes minimal in favor of pet names as the story progresses. 

One thing that is not ambiguous is that the reader is thick, you could also say plus sized though because that’s different in every country I favor the word thick. I also think its kind of a sexier adjective. 

Reader has self consciousness issues and anxiety, both are being treated/have been treated through therapy. I keep it ambiguous as to whether or not the reader is still in therapy-- regardless the reader is insinuated to be far along and doing well in her treatment. Shout out to my peeps who are/have been in therapy, your mental health is important and you’re doing great no matter where you are in it. 

Reader is in her mid to late 20′s because realistically purchasing a home before that is near impossible. Hell even in our 20′s its hard. I also wanted to give a little love to my thick girls in their later 20′s because we out here. 

A lot of AOT reader inserts, if not completely ambiguous, often emphasize a super fit form. Which makes sense in the typical setting when the reader is in the AOT world and maybe a soldier-- but I wanted to give some love to our fuller body types. Maybe I just got tired of reading “...reader’s flat/muscular stomach...” and going-- ooh can’t relate! Haaa. 

That being said, you can read this no matter what your body type because everyone’s perception of self is different-- I just wanted to give the heads up because the reader does struggle a bit with her sense of self in the story because of her body type as her self confidence continues to develop. 

BDSM dynamics ultimately take place in this fic. Some are good BDSM practices/etiquette, some are not good. Professionals know the difference and this is not your guide to polyamory or BDSM. The poor etiquette will be rather obvious but if you’re interested in pursuing BDSM in your real life, please don’t use this work of fiction as gospel. Do your research and practice safely! 

My fictional stories are for ADULTS. Do not read them if you are under the age of 18. 

With all that out of the way, Please enjoy~ 

Chapter 1:

“I got this,” A panted breath.

“I got this,” A strained grunt.

“Nope I lied.” A loud thunk of a heavy box hitting green grass.

“Told ‘ya so.” The brunette breathlessly quipped from her position beside another box, her arms haphazardly flung over its surface. “Can we please take a break now?”

Admitting defeat, you fell in a heap on the lawn and nodded your head, but not before running your forearm across your sweaty brow. “Okay, yeah,” your reply was just as breathless although your friend had given up long before you. “Like five minutes.”

The other female placed her chin on the box, framing her head between her outstretched arms. “Okay, yeah, like fifteen minutes.” She echoed in a tired din, attempting to get you to thoughtlessly agree to her editing of the time.

Though tired with your legs and arms throbbing under the surface of your skin, you shook your head. “No Sasha,” you said firmly. Though it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself over her. “If we take longer than five minutes, we’re gonna quit and we’re almost done!” You gestured with an open palm to the admittedly small moving van parked in the street in front of you. You’d made good headway with it. It was amazing how much stuff you could fit in such a small van.

It was amazing how little space said stuff could take up in such a big home.

Well, big might be a little generous. It was by no means a mansion, certainly not as big as some of the other models on the same street, but it was bigger than your previous living conditions.

More importantly it was yours.

Yours.

You smiled, looking up at the bright sky above you, dotted with a few fluffy clouds.

Your first home.

Your heart sped up when you reminded yourself. You had doubts that it would ever happen. Saving enough money to put a down payment on a home without loans or handouts was no easy feat. But you did it, and that hard work had paid off in achieving your goal. Your down payment was enough to make the house payments bearable; though for the first few months you could see that a majority of your income would go back into the home either in the form of said payments, filling the home with furniture, or renovating some of the areas that needed love.

Like the front yard.

The front yard needed some love.

Not the lawn. The lawn was good. The lawn was providing you and Sasha with a much-needed reprieve. Yes, the lawn could stay.

You loved lawn.

Lawn loved you.

Until your arms started to itch. A less than intimidating growl left your lips as you quickly sat up, your nails digging into your skin as you scratched at it for some relief before flailing your arms about to try and save them from the irritation—as if you could shake it off your flesh.  

“Back to work.” You chirped, making Sasha groan.

“Remind me what I’m getting out of this again?” She mumbled, her face planting itself back to the box to muffle her protests.

Kicking yourself up to standing, you looked over your shoulder with a playful smile, “I’m feeding you.” You reminded her.

After a long pause, perhaps letting your words sink in, Sasha released a huff, lifting her face and flexing her small arms in her baggy t-shirt. “Second wind!” she shrieked by way of a battle cry, her hands clenching the cube between her legs in a vice grip as she moved to a squat, yanking the box off of the pristine lawn.

Who would take such good care of a lawn but ignore the rest of the yard? The previous owner apparently. Then again, it made a bit of sense. It was easy to turn on a sprinkler system to keep a lawn looking fresh whereas the things you wanted to add would take work. Like flowers. You loved flowers. Though you’d struggle on and off with a potentially green thumb, unlike your mother who could make anything grow. Planting flowers was a must. You would work your way to the backyard. But the front yard was like a first impression and you wanted it to be pretty for when friends came over as well as for the strangers that passed by. You wanted people to say, “Oh what a cute house. Whoever bought it really spruced up the place. It looks much better. Oh, it so does, blah blah blah.” Should you care what other people said? No. But you were human. Besides, your mother always kept an immaculate home, you wanted to emulate her in the maintenance of your own home.

As always you were getting too ahead of yourself. You were thinking twelve steps beyond where you were. That could be dangerous. Such thoughts could stimulate anxiety. Something you were unfortunately prone to. You took a deep breath, stealing your resolve to focus on the present moment.

You lifted your gaze, letting it drag over the neighborhood. “Find every color.” You murmured to yourself.

Red, the roses on the bush two houses down.

Orange, the moving van.

Yellow, your shirt.

Green, the lawn.

Blue, the sky.

Purple, your struggled to find purple and made a note to plant some purple pansies to rectify that.

Pink, the flowers of the magnolia tree next door.

You took a deep breath. This was your favorite grounding exercise you’d learned from therapy. It forced you to stay in the moment, steel yourself, and stop racing thoughts—often times before they happened since now you were much better at recognizing the warning signs. It took a lot of work to get to this point. It was work you were proud of.

You took another breath.

First the van. Empty the van. One thing at a time.

A huffing and puffing Sasha stumbled down the shallow steps of the front door—your front door you though joyously—with her hands on her hips, bent slightly at the waist to pin you with judgement. “Excuse me? Am I do’n all the work around here?”

You smirked, nudging the box in front of you with the toe of your shoe, the memory of your struggle to lift it still fresh in your mind. You weren’t in a hurry for a repeat performance in spite of your hassling of Sasha. “Depends, how big of a meal you want?” You teased her.

The brunette scoffed. “If you want me to go at it alone then you better be treating me to a buffet.”

You giggled, though a twinge of envy settled in your chest. Sasha was a petite thing considering how much she ate. You were not. The fact that she could eat so much and still keep her shape while you struggled around your weight made you jealous. The thought of going to a buffet filled you with dread. You always wondered what people thought when they saw someone of thicker size stepping into one of those. It triggered the self-consciousness you were working on diminishing. It wasn’t as though you were lazy, ugly, or any other stereotypical term that so wrongly coincided with your set. Hell, you’d moved over half your old residence by yourself. You were strong! Your body could do amazing things. You just didn’t match the image plastered all over social media and society of what a woman “should” look like.

Size 0 mannequins could go fuck themselves.

You had hips, you had a butt, you had ample breasts—all things sexualized excessively in the female form—you just also had a little extra. Thick thighs, a bit of a tummy—society wanted you to have tits and an ass but when you had the addition that often went with those things naturally, you were frowned upon. It was a complete catch 22. However, society wasn’t going to change, not overnight. So instead you worked on yourself—or rather your perception of self. Therapy helped, but it was an everyday battle to combat two parts of your brain. The half that liked and appreciated the many elements of you, including your body—and the half that was an asshole.

Right now, the asshole was winning. Because of this you had no interest in taking Sasha to a buffet—which meant you had to actually pick up the box you were glaring at.

Bending over, you hoisted the box into your arms with refreshed energy and groaned as you started to your home. “Remind me again why we didn’t recruit the guys?” You mumbled; your voice strained with effort. You probably had books in there. Yeah that was absolutely the book box. Should have spaced those damn things out. What kinda dumb ass were you to put almost all of them in one box?

“Oh, it’s not that much and they’re working, we can totally handle it.” Sasha said, her voice mimicking yours as best it could, though laced heavy with sarcasm. “That’s you. That’s how you sounded.”

You were kicking yourself, “Talk some sense into me next time.” You called, over your shoulder, dropping the box just inside the door where it was going to stay until you either, one, had the energy to move it, or two, had finished putting up your half book shelf.

It was probably going to live there for a while.

“Already thinking about ‘next time’? Oh, no, you’re not moving for at least 10 years. You can’t get me to do this again before that.” Sasha said sternly when you walked back outside to meet her by the van. “I’ll book you for 10 years from now.” You agreed, leaning against the side of the vehicle while Sasha took a moment to fix her ponytail which had gone messy with her unloading efforts.

Walking around to the back of the moving van, you leaned down to pick up another box, a smaller one than the last and took a moment to look over what was left. Just a few bigger items. They were bulky but between the two of you they wouldn’t be difficult to manage. Getting the bed frame and headboard up the stairs was going to be a pain in the ass, luckily TV’s were thinner now so that would be easy to get inside, the bedside tables were small and each of you could carry one of those, the dresser was going to be a bit of a bitch…

You bit your lip, looking over the items and making a list of difficulty in your head. Once again you were filling your mind with ‘to-do’s. Luckily, a voice pulled you out of your own thoughts as you backed down the van’s slope.

“Hello girls!”

You turned around to see an older woman toddling down the driveway beside your own, holding a tray with cookies and two glasses of what appeared to be lemonade.

Putting on your best ‘first impression’ face, you gave the woman a bright smile and placed the box down at your feet to greet the woman who was undoubtably one of your new neighbors. “Hello ma’am,” you said politely. Sasha was too busy drooling over the cookies in the woman’s hands.

“Please, please, call me Della.” She said, lifting the tray in her hands to present the offering to you and Sasha, who was quick to snatch the lemonade and two cookies, chewing both of them at the same time with happy hums and grumbles. You nudged her with your elbow silently scolding her for bypassing the introduction process. Della waved you off, having noticed the subtle action. “She’s absolutely fine! I’m thrilled to have someone enjoy my baking so much.”

All the same, you introduced yourself before taking your own cookie. “It’s nice to meet you Della. I’m [y/n] and this is Sasha.” You took the tray from her and placed it on one of the taller boxes so you could shake the woman’s hand. “Thank you so much for the lemonade and treats.” How on earth had the woman baked that fast? You’d only been there about two hours and these cookies were absolutely fresh out of the oven. Clearly you were living next door to a witch. A kitchen witch. You were totally okay with that so long as she directed her baking powers on you regularly.

“These are amazing.” You mumbled around a mouthful of warm cookie, the flavor sitting on your tongue for a moment, only to have your pallet cleansed by the lemonade.

Della gave a bright smile, “Well thank you dear. It’s nice to have another darling couple to bake for.”

Sasha spit out the lemonade she was sipping, her eyes popping out of her head as she coughed.

You swallowed your bite to try and keep from choking yourself. “Oh! Oh gosh no. No Sasha is just helping me move in. She’s my best friend.” You clarified calmly.

Sasha was thumping her fist to her chest in an attempt to clear her esophagus. “Connie would kill me.” She managed to choke out between wheezes.

“I think he would be down.” You murmured around another sip of lemonade, teasing her.

Della however covered her mouth, looking a little embarrassed by her assumption. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I guess I’m just so used to our other neighbors.” she trailed off, gesturing to the house on the other side of yours. You took that to mean that your other neighbors were a gay couple.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it!” Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised to have an older woman be so openly accepting and progressive. Having a neighbor like that wouldn’t be half bad. Especially if she made a habit of sharing her cooked concoctions.

It seemed you’d managed to move to a rather well-rounded neighborhood. It made a smile tug at your lips.

“Will you be living alone, dear?” Della asked, smoothing her hands over the apron tied around her waist. The action cause tiny plumes of flour to drift in front of her before her green eyes came up to regard you with her full attention. It must be her way to ask if you had a significant other that would be moving in alongside you. To some it may seem prying, but you didn’t blame her for wanting to know a little more about the person living right next door to her.

Nodding your head, you reached for another cookie. You probably wouldn’t have normally, sometimes you felt odd eating in front of others— it might have something to do with your negative self-image—but in this case it seemed rude to not show how much you enjoyed the treats after your neighbor slaved over them for you. So, you justified the second as you answered her question. “Yep, just me.”

Humming her understanding, Della nodded in response. “Well don’t you worry. This is a very safe neighborhood. I’ve never felt nervous living alone.” She assured you.

It was not something you’d even considered. You’d lived on your own before, in truth you just slept with a baseball bat under your bed or a heavy flashlight by your nightstand. You’d never had to use them of course, but better have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. You were confident in your ability to defend yourself. As confident as an untrained baseball bat wielder could be anyway. It’s not as though you knew martial arts.

“That’s reassuring.” You told Della with a smile who returned your kind expression. “If you ever need anything, do let me know,” she said softly, picking up the tray as you and Sasha placed your glasses on it—though she handed you the plate of cookies which was for your to consume at your leisure.  “Us girls gotta stick together.” She winked, pulling a giggle from you before she gestured with her chin to your other neighbor’s home. “We’re outnumbered by boys after all.” She was just teasing but it clarified your suspicion of your other neighbors being a male couple.

“They’re very kind,” she added, “So I’m sure they’ll tell you the same. It’s a very lovely neighborhood.” She gave a little curtesy since she couldn’t wave. “I’ll let you girls get back to it!” She called as she walked back up to her driveway.

You smiled back, waving as she made her way to her home, “Thank you again! It was nice to meet you!” You raised the plate of cookies to Sasha’s view once the woman had retreated into her house after the brief welcome. “These are gonna be gone.” You whispered, walking past her to get them to the empty kitchen before you and Sasha could turn them to crumbs.

“Don’t you owe me a debt?” Sasha called after you, picking up the box the tray had once sat on top of.

You gave her a look over your shoulder. “I’m not giving you all my welcome cookies. I’m ordering pizza later.” For a moment you contemplated hiding the sweets. But that wouldn’t protect them from you. Just Sasha and her ravenous hunger.  

It took a little under an hour to get the remainder of the van emptied, without any interruptions—no matter how pleasant. Assembling the bed was a bit of a pain, as suspected, but it was the only piece of furniture you were going to rope Sasha into helping you with. You’d bought a few new pieces of furniture that were still in boxes, which made them easier to pack, but you still had to assemble them. You were confident in your ability to do so on your own. You’d put together enough furniture in your time; and Sasha had done more than enough to earn her pizza.

Thus, the remainder of the evening consisted of eating said pizza, demolishing the plate of cookies, and yelling at reality stars through the television about their actions even though they couldn’t hear you nor Sasha. Thank god you had gotten the cable hooked up day one. You at least needed internet to watch Hulu and Netflix.

Your spunky brunette friend didn’t stay too late. Bless her, she took it upon herself to take the van back to the rental facility for you so you could continue to get settled. The most important piece of furniture was already complete, ready for you to pass out on it when you gave up on the boxes.

To your credit, you managed to unpack most things that didn’t involve the furniture still needing to be assembled. In fact, you unpacked and sorted all your kitchen ware very easily. The kitchen was a good place to start because it didn’t require the rearrangement of furniture which would inevitably come with unpacking areas like your bedroom. Empty cabinets, drawers, and countertops were a blank slate that only required methodical stuffing. Most people’s kitchens were relatively similar in where cutlery went, mixing bowls, cups, pots, and pans—there was only so much variability. It wouldn’t require the careful placement needed to make a space cozy and inviting. It just had to be functional and neat.

Another aspect that made the kitchen simple was your lack of items. Again, this home was much larger than your previous residence. It had much more space for things. Things you didn’t have but would come with time. You were rather excited to shop around for new things to fill your kitchen as well as the rest of your house.

You’d also managed to unpack some knick-knacks and items that would be set on already constructed furniture, like photographs of your family and friends. One of your favorite pictures included you, Sasha, and Connie in Disneyland. Because you were never too old to enjoy Disneyland. It had been your first trip with friends instead of family when you’d reached adulthood. You smiled fondly back at the joyous photo, all of you wearing Micky Mouse ears and grinning at the camera.

Connie and Sasha were two of your closest friends and though they were together romantically they never made you feel like a third wheel. You enjoyed their company dearly. The picture would get a place of honor in the living room before you went to bed that night, concluding your first day of unpacking.

-

The next two days went by in a blur of screws, hammers, nails, bubble wrap, newspaper, and boxes as you unpacked neatly tucked items and assembled furniture that was somehow always missing a screw or two that probably wasn’t important to the overall design anyway. Hopefully, the instructions were more like guidelines. So long as the furniture was sturdy and looked the way it did in the picture, it was fine. A lot of it was place holder furniture anyway. Rather cheap IKEA stuff that would serve to fill space and allow storage as you’d slowly accumulate nicer goods overtime.

It was a process, you reminded yourself, and the home wouldn’t be perfect or look like a catalog home right off the bat. It was what your mother had told you as well when you told her you were buying your first home. Her encouragement and soothing words also helped to keep you grounded much like the techniques you were still learning and utilizing from your time in therapy.

You’d hardly been out of the house since Friday when you first moved in and in spite of your fatigue caused by tedious unpacking, you were itching to start work on the front yard.

Not the backyard.  

That was an adventure you weren’t ready for. You didn’t have an idea mapped out for that yet and weren’t going to spin out trying to construct a plan for it. The backyard would be last. Mainly because that was going to be a big project. It wasn’t poorly maintained, but it was empty. It had a nice lawn, much like the front yard, but that was it.

A blank slate almost overwhelmed you more. It allowed too many options. When you were ready, you’d likely ask the opinion of your parents or friends. Picking their brain for ideas would be helpful and take some of the burden of decisions from your shoulders.

But that was another day, likely many weeks from where you stood now.

Where you stood now was The Home Depot, in the gardening section, looking over the flowers, shrubs, pots, and yard décor they had to offer.

As you promised yourself earlier, you picked up some purple pansies, leaving every other flower and shrubbery up to the whimsy of your mood. Once you had enough plant life to fill the sparce areas of your new home you picked out a few more gardening essentials that you were severely lacking in. Such as gardening gloves, a trowel, and a small bag of soil to fill the few cute pots you would put on the front porch containing succulents. Because succulents were hard to kill—and admittedly you were still a bit green regarding the whole gardening thing.

Pun very much intended.

You snorted at your own stupid joke.

People looked at you in the checkout line.

You looked away, chagrinned.

Quickly, you paid for your greenery items and scurried out to your car. You would start planting right when you got home. It was still early in the morning, hardly 9:00 am. Way earlier than you liked to get up if you were being honest. But, if you started now you could get most of it done before it got too hot.

-

This was Mike’s favorite way to start the morning. With his heart pounding in his ears to the tune of his running mix, his nose filled with the fresh scent of the creek’s running water, and his bare shoulders gently warmed by the sunlight dancing through the canopy of trees overhead.

Almost every day before work, Mike would jog down to the creek trail not far from the house, enjoy the scenery, make a loop or two around the two mile-long path, and then jog home. It was a routine that never changed. He’d been doing it for years now and the consistency was part of what grounded him. He would credit his morning run with assisting in coping with his PTSD. Going without triggered his anxiety and instantly set a poor tone for his day. As such, his boyfriends were good about allowing him to untangle from the sheets every morning, despite one not being a morning person—because he hardly slept in the first place— and the other being a bit of a cuddlier, though he would insist Mike was the cuddlier. Not himself.  

A smile tugged at Mike’s lips at the memory. He wiped his sweating brow with his shirt which was draped around his neck rather than on his body. He’d discarded it early in his run in favor of feeling the light breeze tickle over his bare torso.

His breathing changed as dirt road turned back into concrete when he turned from the creek trail back onto the sidewalk of the main streets of his neighborhood, making his way towards home.

As home came into view, his jog slowed to a walk, allowing his muscles to feel the rush of blood flow under his skin, the tingling throb of adrenaline cycling through his system becoming more noticeable with the shift of pace. Mike’s arms stretched over his head before bending at the joints. His hands folded behind his skull just under the knot of his blonde hair—the half up hairstyle keeping his shaggy bangs out of his face.

Getting closer to his home, he noticed a difference in the normally consistent pattern of houses along the street. A person was in the yard of the house beside his. Their old neighbor had never spent time tending to the yard. He hummed a curious sound. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to introduce himself to their new neighbor. The “for sale” sign had been taken down days ago, and he vaguely remembered the presence of a moving van without occupants when he’d left for work that Friday.

Mike pulled his phone from his pocket, pausing his music before taking out one of his earphones as he got closer to the house. Though his own music was silenced, a new tune hit his ears, getting louder the closer he got to the kneeling form. The music wasn’t so loud that he would have to yell over it—he could probably clear his throat and the stranger would hear him.

With every intention to politely do just that, he opened his lips and—

Stopped dead in his tracks the moment he got behind the stranger because of what he was greeted by.

There you were, in front of him, on your hands and knees, back arched and your body at an incline as you dug the hole in front of you. But that’s not what got his attention. It was that your legging covered ass was perfectly on display, high in the air, round and inviting.

Mike stood there; mouth partially agape without realizing it. It was a few moments of ogling before he could take in more than that. He picked up your gentle voice, humming to the tune of what was playing on your portable speaker, he picked up the scent of flowers and damp earth, and he picked up on your doe like eyes wide with surprise. It was only then he noticed you had turned around away from your project, hand on your heart as you let out a yelp of surprise at finding someone standing behind you.

A giant standing behind you.

“H-hello…” you murmured, collecting yourself as you moved to turn down your music to a gentle background noise.  

Mike was able to take that time to gather himself. He quickly closed his mouth, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. The man made a conscious effort not to stare, though now that he could see your face it was becoming even more difficult. A cute face to go with a nice ass. A blush dusted his cheeks. Hopefully covered by the sun kissed pigment of his skin.

God willing.

“Uh sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He lifted his hand not currently on the back of his neck, pointing to the house to his left, the one with the magnolia tree. “M’name’s Mike Zacharias, I live next door.” He put on a smile though it was no less sheepish than his previous expression. “I hadn’t had the chance to introduce myself yet.” He was thankful to have a cover up to his staring.

You paused for a long moment, the gears in your head almost audible—then recognition flashed over your face. Part of you was trying to recall the conversation you’d had with Della on move in day, the other part was mesmerized by the husky voice.

The sudden brightness that filled in your eyes when you smiled had Mike’s heart in his throat.

“Oh! Yes,” Pulling yourself up to standing, you rubbed your palms together to brush off the dirt and then pulled off one of your gardening gloves, extending a clean hand to him. “I’m [y/n] [l/n]. It’s nice to meet you.” You were extremely eager to make a good impression on your neighbors. You thought you had done a pretty good job with Della—though her cookie offering had done most of the work for you. It was imperative you get along with Mike and his partner. After all, you’d gotten very lucky with most of your neighbors throughout your life. Most of that was due to your parents. Your mother was friendly, polite, and warm. Your father was boisterous, funny, and generous. You strived to offer the same mix to your neighbors and have a good relationship.

You had seen enough episodes of “Fear Thy Neighbor” to understand that a poor relationship on either side of you could wreck an otherwise comfortable home life.

Of course, “Fear Thy Neighbor” was the most dramatic of examples often leading to violence and murder.

You should probably stop watching the ID channel.

Stick to the stupid reality shows.

Mike swallowed thickly, the dusted pink in his cheeks brightening. His large palm engulfed yours and it was as if his blush traveled from his face, down his arm, through your hands and up to your own cheeks. His hand was huge, it practically swallowed yours. Your palm was completely swaddled by the deceptively gentle squeeze of a rough hand, slight calluses made firm by some sort of labor you couldn’t name.

With your surprise having warn off from the initial contact you found yourself fully registering the man in front of you—

And holy shit if your brain didn’t almost immediately short circuit again.

First of all, he was a giant. Already established—but something you didn’t truly comprehend until you’d stood and fully approached him from your botany project. If you dug the hole you were working on a little deeper, you were pretty sure you could plant Mike up to his knees and he’d continue growing into the tree he so clearly was.

Second of all there was his face which was generously exposed by his tied back dark blond hair. Hazelly-green eyes, pronounced nose—that fit him perfectly, and a strong jaw lightly bearded along it as well as his upper lip.

Your eyes followed the curve of his jaw down his neck, past his broad shoulders and onto a sparsely haired chest just where his defined pectorals met. If you followed the path from his chest down to his toned stomach, which you absolutely did, you found the same light etching of hair extending from his navel down to his—

Your eyes quickly darted back up to his face, your own heating up substantially as your hands all too soon disconnected.  

Mike placed his hands on his hips which served to flex his strong arms and momentarily distract you again.

If you could have slapped yourself subtly, you would have done so. But with those hazel eyes boring into you, you settled for mentally berating your thirst. ‘Get it together woman. He’s taken… and gay.’ But gay came second to taken. It was important to respect a preexisting relationship. It was important to respect sexuality too.

But—

You could look, right? No harm in looking. That’s why people went to museums. To drool over the Statue of David.

That throaty voice pulled you back to focus. “So, is it just you?” If you weren’t completely sure that the man in front of you was gay, the question would have sounded hopeful.

He must have just been asking so he could introduce himself to any other potential newcomers.

“Yep just me. It’s my first house.” He didn’t ask for that second part, but you were proud. You were proud of having your own home and doing so alone. You didn’t have to depend on anyone to get to this important step in your life. That wasn’t something many people could say. You weren’t trying to brag—it was just that residual excitement of having achieved one of your life goals.

Mike to his credit seemed excited for you. His eyebrows raised, as if impressed. Buying a home was getting harder and harder for every generation. Though he didn’t seem too much older than you. Probably in his early 30’s. Even if he were ten years older than you that would be a generational gap and that meant the struggles to find a home were different between the two of you. However, you didn’t think he could be that much older than you considering you were in the later part of your 20’s. 30’s seeming to creep ever closer. But seeing Mike reminded you that your 30’s didn’t make you old in the slightest. The more you looked at Mike, the better your 30’s looked. Because fuck if Mike wasn’t fine as hell.

You were thinking too far ahead again, this time years.

To pull yourself from your spinning thoughts, you looked back at Mike’s face. The smile momentarily dazed you. Because of course he would also have perfect teeth. “Congratulations, that’s wonderful.” He murmured, looking to your house for a moment and then back at you. The house was rather large for one person. “No significant other chomping at the bit to invade your space yet?” The tone was teasing, and you managed a laugh which dispelled your previously spiraling thoughts. God, sometimes you didn’t even notice when they were spiraling.

Mike seemed interested in your relationship status. It put little butterflies in your stomach which were squashed when you looked down at yourself. Even if Mike were interested in females, why would he be interested in you?

You growled internally at those disparaging thoughts to shut the fuck up. You counted to three in your head, a brief distraction from those thoughts used to ground you in the present.

Normally, you preferred your longer methods of distraction, like your colors. However, those weren’t feasible when in the middle of a conversation with your hot neighbor.

“Nope, no boyfriend or anything. Just me and maybe a dog or a cat at some point.” You grinned at the idea, reminding yourself that now that you had your own home no one could tell you if you could have a pet or not. No landlord, no parent, no roommate—no permission needed.

The twinkle in Mike’s eye was easily missed. “My votes’ for a cat,” he murmured offhandedly.

“Not a dog fan?” You asked playfully. Though maybe he was worried about you having a yappy dog that he would have to listen to all day. Understandable.

“No, I like dogs too,” Did his voice get a little deeper? “Just always been fond of kittens.” His eyes slid over you, a smile tugging at his lips that made your blush from earlier give an encore performance.

‘Taken. And. Gay.’ You reminded yourself, willing the blush to dissipate and scolding yourself for reading too much into his gaze. Schooling your expression with the same friendly smile you’d given Della; you nodded your head. “Well I’ll just have to drag you along when I adopt one, then you can play with some pussy.”

Oh lord.

That was a Freudian slip if there ever was one.

You felt your face go hot and resisted the overwhelming compulsion to connect your palm to your forehead. Inappropriate joke for a first meeting—for sure.

Mike’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t name, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’ll take you up on that,” he grinned, and the expression was playful, putting you a bit more at ease. “It’s been far too long since I’ve played with a cute pussy.”

Your thighs squeezed together. Unnoticeably, you prayed.

Mike must have been messing with your somewhat unintentional word choice. Though you were happy that Mike seemed to be the lighthearted type. You could see yourself forming a friendship with the man. Hopefully, his boyfriend (husband?) was half as laid back.

You also hopped his partner was half as sexy.

Because if he was just as sexy as Mike, you were going to suffer a heat stroke.

The giant grinned, tilting his head to gesture to his home. “I gotta get ready for work.” Was it your imagination or did he look a bit reluctant? His grin was back in place too soon to really tell. You nodded your head politely with a little wave just before he turned away.

“It was nice to meet you.” You called, getting back on your knees next to the little pit you’d dug for your shrub.

The blond looked over his strong shoulder as he made his way down the sidewalk and threw you a very obvious wink. “Catch ya later, kitten.” He replied before he rounded his driveway and walked up to his front door, giving you one more glance and disappearing inside the much larger home.

Blinking, you sat frozen for a few moments before your eyes drifted to the hole beside you. Maybe if you dug it a bit deeper you could bury yourself in it.

Because Mike was surely going to be the death of you.

-

When Mike got back into the house, he had to lean against the door, tilting his head back to let the cooling air of the AC drench his heated skin. Though at this point the heat was less from his run and more from the cute new neighbor. It took everything in his power not to pin you to the dirt right there. He let out a little groan, hardly audible.

But just audible enough.

A voice, smooth as honey called from around the corner. “Mike? You alright?”

Mike hummed an affirmative and pushed himself off the door to make his way to the kitchen where the voice was coming from. If he didn’t answer right away, he knew the male would come searching for him and instantly begin to drill him on his mental state. There was no need for that.

His mental state was good. Very good this morning.

His large palm came up to slide over the marble of the kitchen island as he bypassed it to get to the fridge, sticking his head in for longer than necessary to retrieve a water bottle. A soft crack filled the room as he twisted the cap, breaking the seal as he turned to face the kitchen table. Two sets of eyes peered over at him. One set a bright blue; the color of the ocean, the other a stormy grey sky.

The honey voice spoke again, the blue eyes having been peering behind a newspaper completely revealed by its placement on the table. “Good run I take it?”

“Looks a little too happy about a run, Erwin.” The stormy eyed male murmured from behind a teacup held at the rim.

Mike smirked a little. Levi always was perceptive. They both were. But Levi noticed subtleties far more quickly than Erwin did. “I met our new neighbor.” He brought the opening of the bottle to his lips, letting the chilled liquid sooth his throat of the dryness from his run.

“Oh?” Erwin asked, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head back as a silent hint for Mike to lean down to him. Levi was good at noticing subtleties, but Mike was good at reading hints. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Erwin’s, his own cool and water glazed compared to Erwin’s soft and warm ones. “Mm hm,” He confirmed while righting himself. “And Levi,” Mike moved to the other side of the table, tilting Levi’s head back with a fingertip to direct his gaze to him which had been glued upon the novel in his left hand. The ravenette looked up from his book with the giant’s prompting, gaze aloof and seemingly disinterested. However, the look in Mike’s eyes gave him pause.

Since Mike knew Levi, really knew him, he noticed the curiosity lingering behind that seemingly blank expression.

Mike pecked his lips to the shorter male’s, whispering against them. “She’d be perfect.”

[beyondcanon]

fanfic: a family wedding

wow. what a wild ride. how much i missed writing and didn’t even realize.

wynonna earp/wayhaught. Waverly and Nicole’s wedding turns everyone into a bridezilla. Complete. Read on AO3.

Read Chapter One

ii.

Jeremy is wearing all black, with an earpiece and clippings, fussing over a gigantic ice swan being carried by four large men/demons.

The statue wobbles and he squirms. "Careful!"

"You are not going to ruin this marriage, people! C'mon!"

The same old, beat-up blue pickup truck arrives, boxes and more boxes perched on top. Wynonna opens the door, leather jacket glistening in the cold autumn sun.  The wind blows her hair like a L'oreal ad and she takes off her sunglasses in slow motion.

"Nothing can go wrong with this amount of booze, Jeremy." She smiles, licking her upper lip and tapping the pickup's ceiling three times. "Trust me."

"I'll believe it when I see it and complete a thorough inventory."

Wynonna rolls her eyes, but there's no bite to it, much like getting used to your family's quirks as a destiny. She sips from her flask. "As long as I get quality control duty."

-

The bright sun wakes Nicole, stretching over her skin. She grunts and turns to find the other side of the bed... empty? Cold?

"Waverly?" Eyes darting open and reaching for her gun under her bed, she sits up in a rush.

Her soon-to-be-wife is sitting on the armchair, painting her toenails. The sun creates a halo across her hair; she smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "Morning, baby."

Nicole lets out a shaky breath and hides her gun again. "Sorry, I-" She scoots closer to the edge of the bed. "I got scared for a moment."

Waverly offers her a soft, soft look. The soft pink robe reaches the floor as she walks the few steps between them. "I woke at the crack of dawn and couldn't sleep, thinking about marrying my best girl."

Hands on Waverly's hips, Nicole pulls her closer to stand between her legs. "Excited?"

"I painted my nails and did my eyebrows and my hair was such a mess," Waverly straddles Nicole's lap, "I had to do something about it, and then I re-wrote my vows twice, first in my head and then on a piece of paper, which I hid it from your curious eyes." She chuckles when Nicole hides her face in the crook of her neck and takes a deep breath.

"And here I was, thinking someone would wake up with a hangover."

"Never." Waverly huffs, squeezing Nicole's shoulders. "Then I started thinking about you, pretty face and great butt, but I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. You looked so cute and I want to marry you already," she whines.

Nicole pulls back and takes a long moment to look at Waverly's face, hand placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What are you thinking?" Waverly tries to read her expression and fails. "Are you having second thoughts?" Her eyes widen and Nicole blinks three times. The words stalling falling from her mouth in quick succession, barely a shred of a second to think, "Because that's totally normal for the bride or groom to get really nervous with such a big decision, and we decided to spend the night together so there's no one to calm you down besides me, which isn't going to help much, because I'm the girl that got you stuck here with a big responsibility and a ring on your hand and I-"

She's so cute. Nicole smiles and kisses her, gentle and sweet, one hand cupping Waverly's cheek. It does get her to stop babbling.

"I love you." She joins their foreheads and Waverly takes a deep breath, still a pout on her lower lip. She licks and kisses the pout away, scratching the back of Waverly's neck until she lets out the little sigh Nicole knows so well. "Wherever you go, I go. This is it, baby. You and me."

A loud knock startles them both. "Are you decent?"

Nicole grunts and throws her body back on the bed.

"And Wynonna." Waverly laughs. "Come in!"

Bottle in hand and reeking of whiskey, Wynonna stumbles in.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. "It's 10 am."

Wynonna waves and scoff. "I have something important to say." She stops in the middle of the room and looks at Waverly and Nicole.

"I don't want you to move out." She takes a deep breath. "I like having both of you around. It's... better. Safer. We haven't talked about it, but I know you're probably planning to move to Nicole's-"

"Hey," Waverly answers like she's trying not to scare a kitten. She gets up and gets closer to her sister. "You're not losing me."

"Us." Nicole sits up on the bed.

Wynonna takes a gulp and winces. "We can fix the house, get you more room, better locks, soundproof the entire place, anything you want."

"Wynonna," Waverly whispers, a hand on her sister's arm and eyes watering.

"We built something good, baby girl." Wynonna sighs. "All of us. Together."

Nicole looks at Waverly and they have an entire conversation between them.

She gets up to stand in front of Wynonna. "We'll always fight by your side." She grabs the bottle as Wynonna tries to take another sip. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

Wynonna takes the bottle back and shrugs. "Whatever. Just... think about it. It's not like I'm charging you rent or anything."

Waverly goes in for a hug, but Wynona scurries away without closing the door.

"That was..." Nicole breathes out. "Unexpected."

Wynonna peaks her head on the door. "I'm dealing with a lot of shit." She drinks from her bottle and leaves again.

-

The kitchen is a mess of pans, pots, and seasonings.

Rachel points at the table. "I've made you breakfast. Doc said you both need a full stomach to start the day." She shrugs like she doesn't even care. "He also said he expects you for Best Cowboy duties in 30min."

Waverly claps and does a little jump. "What are we having?"

"Vegan chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled tofu, tea, and a green smoothie for you." She places on the table a procession of dishes. "Real eggs with bacon, a cappuccino, and french toast for Nicole because she doesn't need to suffer the indignity of eating vegan on her wedding day."

They take a seat. "It looks amazing." Nicole smiles. "Thank you, Rachel."

"Yeah." Rachel grunts, taking powdered sugar and finishing the pancakes. "I figured I was your best shot at eating something edible."

It tastes every bit as good as it looks.

-

Nicole pulls Waverly by the waist until they are flush against one another. "Good luck with the best ladies." She steals a kiss, and then another.

"Good luck with the Best Cowboy." Waverly smiles, coy, messing with the lapel of Nicole's jacket. "Don't do anything too crazy."

Nicole could kiss the daylights out of her. "Can't wait to see you in a wedding dress."

"Oh, you're going to love it." Waverly's voice drops two octaves too low and Nicole shivers. "Later, gator." She pushes Nicole out the door and enters the house giggling.

Nicole looks around the front yard filled with people coming and going. Doc arrives from a distance.

She jumps when Mercedes screeches, further terrorizing the catering crew. "Unacceptable! Don't you people know how to fold a cloth napkin properly?"

She demonstrates three times and makes them prepare and place each one to perfection. A young boy tires and folds the wrong way.

Mercedes hisses. "I will kill you and your whole family."

The boy gets it right the second time.

Nicole mouths an apologetic "She doesn't mean it," even though she knows Mercedes does very much mean it.

Doc arrives, thankfully. "Let me take you away from the madness, Sheriff." He opens Charlene's door for Nicole.

"Not a moment too soon." Nicole jumps in.

-

Nedley, clean-shaven and dressed in a handsome wool suit, is waiting for them at Shorty's. "I took the liberty of getting the first round started." He points to the drinks on the counter.

"You know how to please a man," Doc sighs and takes his hat off, downing his whiskey in one gulp.

If that man isn't Wynonna's soulmate, no one is.

"How are you feeling?" Nedley helps Nicole out of her coat. "Getting the jitters?"

"Not really." Nicole walks with him towards the booze. "I wish the wedding started already. I can't wait."

"Young love." Nedley gives her a knowing smile. "Just a couple more hours, darling."

Nicole smiles back and grabs her drink.

-

The phone rings across the room.

Nicole rushes to it. "Is everything okay?"

"No demon, Sheriff." Wynonna scoffs. "With Peacemaker and Rosita, we're more than covered. Your girl, however, is having a little freak-out."

Waverly can be heard in the background. "I am perfectly reasonable!"

"Could you tell your woman you still want to marry her?"

Nicole bites back a smile. "Sure."

A moment later: "Hi, sweetie."

"I heard my best girl is having a little freakout."

"Am not."

Nicole can hear the adorable pout in her voice. "I can't wait to be married to your beautiful face, you know." She hums. "Watching you walk down the aisle. Having that ring on your finger."

Waverly sniffs. "Really?"

She overhears Wynonna's fake puking and Waverly's whispered "stop it".

"Mhmm. Celebrating with our family. Carrying you inside the bedroom and having my way with my wife."

Waverly sighs. "It feels so good when you say that."

"Wife. Partner. Love of my life." Nicole's voice is pure honey. "My wife, and no one else's."

Waverly purrs. "I can't wait, too. I bet you look so sharp."

Nicole smiles because she does: brown pants and vest, crisp white shirt, hair down in delicate waves. "I bet you look drop-dead gorgeous."

"Can we get married already?"

"Just one more hour, baby."

-

No trace of chaos and confusion when Nicole arrives:

Decoration in place, flowers everywhere, ginormous ice swan, blue sky smiling at her.

Jeremy greets them in a dark grey suit, earpiece still in place. "Welcome to your wedding, Nicole."

Arms locked with Doc, she smiles and allows Jeremy to lead them.

The guests stand up — the whole town, in their best Sunday attire.

Doc's firm hand over hers keeps hers from trembling. "One foot in front of the other. That's all there is to it."

The music begins: it’s Ella and Louis' Tenderly.

They walk slow and sure, locking eyes with the crowd as they pass.

The altar they made themselves over two laborious weeks looks perfect.

Nicole takes her place, Doc right behind her.

Heart thumping, mouth dry, she has no idea how much time passes before the music changes to Cheek to Cheek.

Waverly and Wynonna appear, arm in arm.

Waverly waves with a nervous smile, and they lock eyes. This is it.

Yes, Louis, her heart beats so she can hardly speak.

Her dress is so pretty. She's everything Nicole has ever dreamed of.

She dries a stubborn tear or two, breath caught.

Wynonna clears her throat. "Make an honest woman out of my sister, will you?" They take their time in their hug; this time it's not awkward. "I will skin you alive if you do anything to her and I will enjoy it."

"Noted." Nicole chuckles, squeezing Wynonna one last time before stepping back.

She offers a hand to Waverly, who takes it to climb the one step to stand in front of Nicole. "Gorgeous," she mouthes.

Waverly's brown eyes sparkle. "You're here."

She takes Waverly's hands. "I am."

Nedley begins his speech. He talks about union, love, and dedication. All Nicole sees is how Waverly's hair catches the light, the smell of lavender and honey, and the cool autumn breeze against her skin.

-

The silence falls thick, the air pregnant with expectation.

"Nicole, you turned me inside out since I first met you. Thank God Shorty didn't fix that tap." She gives a bright smile, squeezing Nicole's hand. "I never thought someone so generous, so loving, could exist, and yet here you are, standing in front of me. You give me more than I could ever hope to get out of this life. You see me." She makes a long pause. "I love every part of you. I promise you everything I am."

"Waverly..." She takes a deep breath. "You have the most kind, beautiful soul I have ever met. I'd be crazy if I didn't fall for you, if I didn't fight for us. Every time you look at me, my heart flutters with how much love I carry for you in my whole body." Her voice trembles. "I'll follow you wherever you go. I'll choose you, again and again, and again, as long as you'll have me. You are my destiny."

She slides the ring on Waverly's finger with trembling hands.

Waverly draws a sharp breath before taking the other ring and doing the same.

Nedley declares them officially married.

"Finally," Nicole sighs. She pulls Waverly close, turning and bending her backward before giving her a deep kiss.

The crowd cheers, fireworks exploding in the sky.

-

The food looks amazing, but Nicole wouldn't know.

It's a flurry of movement: greeting guests, shaking hands, Jeremy taking hundreds of photos.

Wynonna grabs the microphone and announces: "Let's get this party started!"

Rachel presses play and I Put a Spell on You comes on.

With a mischievous look, Waverly rips her dress to reveal a cooler, shorter dress underneath.

Nicole takes off her vest, throws it on Wynonna's face, and opens three buttons on her white shirt.

Waverly takes a few steps back, hips moving to the beat and finger calling Nicole forward.

She pretends to be busy rolling her sleeves up, eyes never leaving her wife.

Shoulders moving, steps in quick succession, Nicole follows. They circle each other, smiles broad and malicious.

One, two, three slow steps. Nicole pulls Waverly flush against her.

Waverly pushes her away and turns, only to be pulled back again.

That perfect ass grinds against Nicole, hand reaching to the back of her neck, "Just wait until I'm alone with you," she whispers in Waverly's ear and feels her shiver.

She grabs the hand on her neck and uses it to turn Waverly back to her again, bodies moving together in perfect sync.

"When you do," Waverly tells her, hungry eyes and lips parted, "you'll find I'm not wearing any panties."

Nicole almost misses a step.

-

The party roars, booze flowing. Rachel's impeccable setlist keeps everyone high, horny, and in the mood.

Soaked in whiskey and sweat, Nicole dances with her wife. A hand holds her glass up, a firm palm spread on Waverly's lower back, hips moving together.

She's everything Nicole can see, smell, feel.

Foreheads together, Waverly mouths the music against Nicole's lips, breaths mingling. Arms around Nicole's neck, she leans back, exposing that sexy neck and a dirty smile.

Nicole wastes no time kissing her pulse point, teasing with her teeth. Waverly grabs her hair, pulling her closer, whimpering.

"Baby," Nicole soothes the skin with her tongue. "I need to have you."

She gets a breathy moan. "And how are we going to make that happen?"

In the middle of her haze, Nicole assesses their surroundings. The house is filled with people to the brim, the front yard is full of people making out...

-

The music thumps on, muffled in the background.

Waverly jumps on Nicole, who promptly grabs her thighs and pushes her against the barn door. "My wife," she groans over and over again between kisses, biting Waverly's lower lip.

Waverly wraps her legs even tighter around Nicole's waist, grabbing her hair. "Baby, please." They moan in each other's mouths when their tongues meet, and it's not enough. "I need you three fingers deep, right now."

Nicole grunts, throbbing with want, taking Waverly to a pile of hay and settling on top of her. "Anything my girl wants," she pulls the dress down to kiss those perfect breasts, "she will get it." Her mouth latches on a nipple, sucking and biting and pulling just how Waverly likes it.

Waverly whines, nails sinking on Nicole's back. She spreads her legs further, so willing, dress riding up her thighs.

"You're so wet." Nicole sighs, running a slow finger through Waverly's folds. "Is that all for me?"

Waverly gasps and pulls Nicole closer. "All for you, baby. Just for you."

Nicole can't deny her any longer, two fingers slipping inside.

"Yes yes yes-", Waverly moans, hips canting when Nicole picks up the pace. "More, baby, more."

Gasping for air, Nicole adds a third finger. "So good," she mumbles, "So tight." Her voice strained, watching Waverly biting her lower lip in pure bliss.

She gets faster, rougher, taking it almost all out before thrusting inside again, feeling her wife pulsing around her fingers.

"You fuck me so good, baby," Waverly gasps, holding on to Nicole's shirt for dear life. "Only you," she moans, again and again.

"All mine." Nicole curls her fingers, hard kisses on Waverly's neck, as her wife gets even tighter, wetter, more desperate.

Waves comes with a sharp cry, tears falling, back arching.

Nicole stays inside her, kissing her earlobe softly as she whimpers.

"So good." Waverly kisses her lazy and slow, whimpering when Nicole takes her fingers away. "So good." She sighs, taking Nicole's hands and dutifully licking her fingers.

Nicole groans when Waverly starts sucking. "Don't make me fuck you again."

Waverly smiles. "Counting on that, baby."

Nicole leans in for another kiss.

-

Wynonna barges into the barn with a big, big smile. "Told you so!"

Waverly and Nicole scramble to cover themselves, behind some wooden boxes.

"Couldn't get past midnight, could you lovebirds?" She wiggles her eyebrows before leaving. "Pay up, losers!"

"Man, couldn't they wait another hour?" She hears Rosita. "I was counting on the money."

"Tell me about it. Could have been one hour earlier." Is that Doc? "Take it."

Nicole rolls her eyes, a grin on the corner of her mouth.

Waverly bumps shoulders with Nicole. "That's the life you chose." She starts getting dressed.

Nicole watches, everything else fading to the background. "It's the life I chose," she agrees, admiring the lean back of her wife and how her tousled hair moves.

Waverly reads her eyes and giggles, offering her hand. "C'mon, there's a whole party waiting for us."

Nicole closes the buttons on her shirt and lets Waverly pull her up.

She cups her wife's face for a long moment, basking in how she leans into the touch and closes her eyes.

Waverly wraps her arms around her, their breaths in sync.

[kirah69]

Hills Animal Home [Petopher]

Day 3: "Stop coming back"

For the @petopher-events

Tags: pre-slash, animal shelter, mentions of covid-19

[It's not betaed so if you find any mistake, let me know]

[AO3 link]

Hills Animal Home

The Hills Animal Home was an animal shelter that had opened at the beginning of the pandemic. Many pet owners abandoned their animals with the stupid idea that they could get infected by them. The shelter saved them from almost certain death. The place was big, it was on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, bordering to other two towns. The main building had space for a veterinary clinic with an operating room and spacious rooms for sick animals. Behind the building there were several square yards divided in areas for cats, dogs and other animals. There were big kennels for them to sleep outside if they so wanted and also closed huts with beds if it was cold outside. There were also large play areas with little trees to climb for the cats and lots of toys to play for the dogs. And everything was clean and cared for thanks to all the workers there. They did not receive any help from the State or the County, but it was rumored that the owner was some millionaire animal lover.

Chris hadn't paid much attention to it, but as the pandemic dragged on and things in Beacon Hills had settled down, he felt lonely and bored. He had had dogs when he was younger. Well, they were hunting dogs, and he wasn't allowed to treat them with love like any other family would do. He wanted to do it right this time.

He went to Hills Animal Home early on a weekday, when he was less likely to meet other people there. He put on his mask before getting out of the car. There was a woman in her seventies at the reception desk, her white hair in a bun and dressed in a striking pink flower shirt. She gave him a big smile as he approached the counter, or that was what he thought giving that he couldn't see her face behind the mask.

“Welcome! What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I want to buy a dog.”

“Adopt.”

“Huh?” Chris frowned.

“We don't sell dogs, we have them up for adoption,” she explained. “Would you like to adopt a dog?”

“Yes, I... I want to adopt a dog, please.”

He suspected they would charge him some money later with whatever excuse, but he already intended to pay so he didn't care. The woman called someone through an intercom, and another woman appeared. This one was a bit younger but not by much. She was wearing a skirt suit and had a folder in her hand.

“Hello, I'm Miranda. And you are...”

“Argent. Chris Argent.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said with a little bow without even holding out her hand. Chris had to consciously refrain from doing so. “Come with me, I have some questions for you before we consider you qualified for adoption.”

Chris opened his mouth and closed it again. What was she talking about? He only wanted a dog.

As he learned in the following minutes, it wasn't that easy. Not here at least. These dogs had suffered a lot from the abandonment and even abuse, and they had no intention of handing them over to the first guy who walked through the door. She asked him a lot of questions about his daily life, about his house, his job, his previous pets, his family... He commented that it was a bit invasive (even more than a job interview), and Miranda told him that he was not obliged to answer, but then he would leave without a dog.

It seemed that his answers were satisfying enough, and he was allowed to go see the dogs. What he didn't expect was to find Peter Hale there. He was dressed in casual clothes (more casual than Chris had ever seen him) and was playing with the dogs. There was at least eight of them jumping around him while others ran after the balls he threw at them. He had a big smile on his face. A real smile. Chris had never seen him like that.

When Peter felt someone approaching, he took a mask out of his pocket and put it on. It was strange since Chris was pretty sure that werewolves couldn't get infected. Then Peter realized who he was and stood still. As if following his lead, all the dogs stopped jumping and running and looked toward Chris.

“To what do I owe this visit?” he asked coming closer.

“Mr. Argent is qualified for adoption,” Miranda said, handing Peter a clipboard.

“Thank you, Miranda,” Peter nodded and took the clipboard without taking his eyes from Chris. “You can go back inside.”

“Okay. Good luck, Mr. Hale,” she said and left.

Chris wasn't sure why he needed luck, but he nodded anyway.

“So you came to adopt a dog,” Peter said. It wasn't a question. He took a look at Miranda's report and left it on a table full of toys and treats.

“Do I get to choose?” Chris asked and wasn't surprised by Peter's answer.

“Of course not,” he said with a snort. “You only get to choose if you want a small one or a big one.”

“I don't really care, but I have enough space for a big one.”

“Good. Get one of those and play with them,” Peter said, pointing to the toys on the table.

Chris didn't know why, but he just took one of the knotted ropes and followed Peter to a more open area. The dogs relaxed as soon as Peter did and some of them came to Chris and started playing with him. Peter played with them too, and the man looked the most relaxed Chris had ever seen him, even if the 'wolf kept an eye on him all the time. He looked almost... happy?

Chris wasn't sure how long they were there and for what exactly, but he was having fun so he didn't mind. At some point, Peter walked up to him and with just a couple of gestures, all the dogs turned away except for one. It was dark brown, and Chris couldn't guess what breed, probably a mixed-breed, but he didn't care.

“This is Burger,” Peter said, petting its head. “I think he'll be perfect for you.”

“Burger,” Chris repeated arching an eyebrow. “Can I change his name?”

“No. And you can't turn him into a hunting dog either. I'll make sure of it,” Peter said with a clear threat in his voice.

“I won't. I don't work like that anymore,” Chris answered truthfully.

Peter looked at him, and maybe he was satisfied with his steady heartbeat because he just nodded.

“Let's go to my office.”

The three of them went back into the building and got into a small office with windows to the back yard. Peter sat behind the desk and Chris in front of him with Burger at his feet.

“You're the owner of this place, right?” Chris asked while Peter took out some documents.

“What gave it away?” Peter said sarcastic.

“Why?” That was what he had been wondering from minute one.

Peter shrugged.

“Because I can.”

“A lot of people could, but you did it. Why?”

Peter left some papers in front of him and leaned back in the chair with a pensive expression. He probably wasn't thinking of his reasons for opening an animal shelter, but if he should tell him.

“Cora left, Derek left, most of the McCall pack has left, including the alpha. And now this fucking pandemic and the first thing people do is abandon their pets as if they were not part of the family. The same assholes that refuse to wear a mask,” Peter said almost with a growl.

Pack. That was what this was for Peter, a pack. He was there for the same reason as Chris, he felt lonely.

“Why do you wear it, a mask?” Chris asked curiously while he started to fill the papers.

Peter seemed grateful for the change of subject.

“I may not get sick, but I don't know if I can carry it and infect others. Although it's mostly as an example for my workers.”

“I didn't think you were so aware.”

Chris signed the papers and gave them back. Peter was looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“You don't know me at all, Argent.” Peter got up and went to the office door. “Take care of him, let us know if you need anything and don't forget about the vaccines. You can vaccinate him here or at your own vet,” he said almost like a robot.

Chris hooked Burger to a new leash and left the office with him. Peter disappeared through a door, and Chris took his new dog home.

Not even three weeks later, Chris was back at the Hills Animal Home. Again in the morning of a weekday. Peter appeared immediately at the reception desk with an angry look.

“If you're here to return him-.”

“No, no, Burger is wonderful,” Chris hurried to say. “He's quickly adapted to the house and is a fantastic boy.”

“I'm glad. Why are you here then?” Peter relaxed a bit and rounded the desk towards him.

“I thought... Maybe Burger would feel better with a friend.”

Yeah, that's why he was there, there was no other reason. Right.

“Well, dogs are pack animals so yes, I think it'd be a good idea. Beside, you have the means to take care of both.”

Peter gestured for Chris to follow him, and they went to the dogs enclosure.

“Should I take Burger too,” Chris asked at the door.

“Of course, it's gonna be his companion after all.”

And just like that, they spent a couple of hours playing with the dogs. Peter laughed, he really laughed even if Chris could not see it with the mask, but the sound of it was... The dogs, he had to focus on the dogs. Yeah, he was there for the dogs. Fuck.

Chris left the shelter with a golden retriever with only three legs that jumped higher than any other dog. His name was Nigel. And no, he couldn't change it.

“Stop coming back!” Peter almost whined when Chris returned to the shelter two weeks later. “You're not getting another dog, two are enough for now!”

Chris opened his mouth and closed it again. Burger and Nigel were with him and greeted Peter cheerfully.

“I wasn't... I didn't want another... dog...” Okay, now he didn't have an excuse to be there.

“Then what?” Peter asked, crossing his arms. Chris' eyes went straight to his cleavage (you couldn't blame him). Why was he wearing a V-neck instead of casual clothes like the other days? And why did it have to be so wide? “Oh, I see.”

“What?” He was glad that the mask partially hid his face. Surely he had blushed (which was ridiculous for a man his age).

“You don't need to adopt a dog to get a date.”

“I-I don't-,” Chris stammered.

“I can smell it, Chris, even through the mask. Knowing you, you'd fill your house with dogs before you muster up the courage to ask me out,” Peter sighed, rolling his eyes.

He gave the dogs a treat and turned to the back door while Chris looked at him speechless.

“Pick me up at five!” he said before disappearing.

Well, he now had two dogs and a date. That was a lot more than what he had five weeks ago.

[cutieodonoghue]

dark gray (epilogue)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on Tumblr!

a/n: it seems everyone wants an epilogue! Pretty much all fluff, so if that’s not your thing, I’m not sure how you got here… haha 

Thanks for all of your support again. I really, really appreciate all of your kind words and gestures of kindness. Hope you like this epilogue!

///

“We’ll buy a house in Storybrooke and adopt a dog. We’ll give Henry a few brothers and sisters. Your parents will adore me. And we’ll spend far too much time forgetting that any of this ever happened. But, I do reckon we’ll argue about paint chips while we’re working on remodeling the house. Unfortunately.”

///

Epilogue

SPRING

In early spring, Killian and Emma buy a house a few blocks away from her parents, not wanting to be too far from town, but still needing their own space. 

It’s a beautiful home on the corner, with a huge backyard and a generous floor plan. There are three bedrooms that they can fill with children, or so Killian imagines. 

He learns that Emma really likes big windows to let light in, and he tells her that it makes sense, because since they met, she’d brought a lot of light into his life. She rolls her eyes at him, but he knows she appreciates it.

There isn’t a lot to unpack on the first day, with the sum total of their furniture coming from Emma’s abandoned apartment. They don’t need much. Not yet.

He finds Emma sitting in their bedroom once Henry’s been put to sleep in his own bedroom just up the hall. She seems tired, maybe a little emotionally worn out from everything that happened.

“Hey,” Killian says, sitting beside her. He rubs her lower back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You alright, love?”

Emma meets his eyes, giving him a small smile. “Yeah. I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

He hums knowingly. They stare at one another for a few moments, silent. Killian finds that he can’t stop grinning. This has been a day he’s looked forward to for a while. The opportunity to live in a beautiful home with his family is beyond exciting.

“We should get married.”

“Married?”

He nods, hoping she knows he’s serious. Killian stands up so he can kneel in front of her. “I love you so much, Emma. I want you to know I’ll always, always be by your side. Will you marry me?”

She tilts her head to the side just slightly. Her eyes become watery and she reaches for his hand to squeeze it. “I can’t argue with that.” 

“Is that a yes?”

Emma laughs a little. “Yes. It is.”

They decide to have their wedding as quickly as they can, not wanting to waste any time. 

The idea both confuses and delights her parents. Mary Margaret immediately wants to help, something Emma is grateful for, and David questions him for about an hour in the privacy of his study about his true intentions.

Over the course of a few far too short weeks, Killian works on fixing a few odds and ends around the house while Emma plans an intimate wedding for them.

He learns her natural routines and schedules. Tries to fit as much time in with her as he can in between work and trying to prepare for both a wedding and a baby.

She introduces him to her friends. Belle the town librarian, Robin and Regina the happily married barkeepers, and Ruby the fashion designer. 

He meets friends of his own at work at the harbor, too. Will, who keeps him on his toes, and Graham who would rather work in the forest. They go for beers on nights when Emma’s friends are over helping with wedding prep.

He can’t help but laugh when they clash heads over paint chips. 

She’s right. Of course she’s right. She always is.

They form traditions out of game nights and group dinners. Their friends watch Henry on occasion, and in turn, Killian offers them free outings on the water on a ship that he helps run as part of his job.

They get married at the end of the spring, under a canopy of flowers and hanging twinkle lights, in Emma’s parent’s backyard. 

Henry wears a little suit to match Killian’s, while Emma makes the most stunning bride in a white dress that flows to the ground. She’s glowing, absolutely radiant, though she worries that her baby bump is too obvious to keep hiding it from everyone.

So, once they say “I do”, and find themselves slow dancing at the party afterward, Killian asks in a low whisper pressed to her ear, “Are you ready to tell Mom and Dad?”

Emma laughs a little, leaning her head back so she can meet his eyes. “You’re going to call them that all the time now, aren’t you?”

“If it will irritate your father, absolutely.”

His wife- his wife!- tilts her head at him, giving him a soft sigh of disapproval. “We should tell them. Mom’s going to flip.”

Mary Margaret does, in fact, flip.

/

SUMMER

The summer brings them a new friend called Wilby, who enjoys bones, licking Henry’s toes, and long walks along the beach. 

Summer brings a nasty sticky heat and messy ice cream cones. Henry’s favorite flavor is chocolate. Emma’s is mint chocolate chip, which she eats by the pint balanced on her pronounced baby bump. 

In the summer, there are fireworks on the Fourth of July, town celebrations, visits to Granny’s Diner for lunch during Emma’s time off work, outings on boats, trips to the beach, and nights spent sitting outside with friends that seem to always be over to visit.

Emma’s sitting in the grass with Henry and Mary Margaret, laughing genuinely at her mother while she squeezes their son’s hands. 

Ruby’s running around with Wilby, complaining about how massive the yard is, while Belle and Will sit at the picnic table with Robin, Regina, and a pack of cards.

“So.” Neal says, a gentle unassuming smile on his face, approaching Killian at his spot on the back porch steps. “It’s been a few months. What’s it like, being married?” 

Neal offers him a cold beer. He takes it, shaking his head while he laughs. “Why? Are you thinking of getting married soon?”

Neal sits beside him, sighing as he drapes his arms around his knees at chest level. “Maybe.” He sips his drink. “So what’s it like?”

If he had to define it, he doesn’t think he could. It’s not been without its highs and lows, but for the most part, they’ve enjoyed peace. He thinks they deserve it, after everything that they’ve been through.

Again, Killian shakes his head. He stares at Emma, at the way she throws her head back to laugh at something Ruby says to her. At the soft stray curls of her ponytail. At the gentle swell of her body in the seventh month of pregnancy.

He can tell even from several feet away that she’s glowing. 

“It’s home.”

Neal considers him briefly. He hums into his bottle and has another sip. 

It’s a bit awkward, because he and Neal haven’t shared as much time together as they should. In fact, if he thinks about it, he and Neal hardly know one another. 

All he knows is that Emma and Neal were once in a troubled relationship, and now they were friends. If they could even call it that.

“Thank you.” Neal says with a tiny smile. “For giving her everything she needs. God knows I was never enough for her.”

Killian isn’t sure what to say, so he smiles back before looking ahead again. “How did you meet Emma?”

Neal seems to think about it, maybe searching for a good place to start. He takes a steadying breath to prepare for whatever he’s about to say. 

“I lost my parents growing up. Mom… ran off with another guy and Dad went criminally insane.” He stares down at his beer. “Left me to fend for myself. I met Emma at a gas station in Washington state. She was on the run like me.”

Killian found himself surprised. Knowing what he did about Neal, he hadn’t thought too deeply about his background. It surprised him even more to think that he could understand him. After all, he himself was running from the whole world. For years.

“What were you running from?”

Neal shakes his head. He laughs in spite of himself, a soft chuckle from his nose. “I still don’t know, man.”

He clears his throat and sets the bottle down on the step beside him.

“I was the same way. Running. Hiding.” Killian admits. He shakes his head. “That hole in your chest doesn’t go away, does it? Nothing helps.”

Neal clenches his jaw as he averts his gaze. “No.”

On a soft breath, Killian stands and finds a football in the grass nearby. He kicks it toward Neal to get his attention. 

The last time he’d played football was with Liam, years ago, but it was clear to him that Neal needed something powerful to pull him out of himself. He needed a brother.

“My brother and I used to kick the ball back and forth until the sun went down.” Killian reminisced. He tipped his head back toward the yard. “What do you say?”

Neal offers him a shrug. “I might be rusty… but sure.”

On their way into the yard, Killian stops to help Emma to her feet. She sways into him, caught off balance, and he chuckles, asking, “You okay, love?”

She hums, sighing softly. “Just a little lopsided.” Emma glances past him at Neal, who now has the ball scooped up onto the top of his shoe. “You guys are going to kick the soccer ball around?”

“For just a little while.” Killian says. “Time to finally get some use out of the yard.” He notices her attention rests on the man from her past. “Okay?”

“It’s fine,” she assures him. “I’m glad you’re making friends.”

Later that night, while he and Emma prepare for bed in the bathroom, he lifts his eyebrow at her in the mirror. “Are you sure you’re alright with me befriending Neal?”

Emma stops brushing her teeth to spit into the sink. When she finishes rinsing her mouth, she shrugs. “It’s just a little weird, but it’s fine.”

“Like… how, weird?” Killian wonders. He turns around so he can lean against the bathroom counter with his hand over his opposite wrist.

His wife sighs. She presses her hands to her lower back. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m nervous that now that things are finally kind of normal between us, something will change.”

“So Neal feels weird to you.”

Emma cringes at that. “No. Not really.”

Killian hums. “Did you know that he’s taking online classes? He’s trying to get a degree to teach.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “No. I didn’t.”

“I think he’s changed. For the better.”

Emma turns to look for something on the counter. “Well, then all the best to you and your new bromance. You have my blessing.”

He rolls his eyes, smiling, and steps away from the sinks so he can kiss her temple. “You don’t have to be okay with it if you’re not.”

“He needs a friend. You’re the best one I can think of around here.”

With a clever little smirk, Killian lifts a brow. “Are you saying I’m your best friend?”

Emma, clearly exhausted, rolls her eyes. Hard. “Killian, I’m carrying your child.”

“And you’re doing it so well, my dear.” Killian offers her a kiss. “I love you. You’re my best friend. In case you were wondering.”

A little blush finds her cheeks and her lashes flutter against her cheeks. “You’re my best friend too.”

/

FALL

Storybrooke in the autumn is gorgeous, and it’s Emma’s very favorite thing. She tells him she loves the way the colors turn the streets burnt orange and red, and even though he’s seen fall before, he swears it’s so much better through her eyes. 

She asks him to take them for a drive through the forest on Sunday afternoons so they can show Henry the colors of the trees while Wilby hangs out the window, tongue wagging in the wind. 

On mildly cold nights, she comes to bed wearing her bright red flannel pajamas and socks, explaining that she’s freezing, but an hour later she’ll change because she’s too hot.

Henry likes the leaves that pile up in their backyard. He really likes the pumpkin bread that Mary Margaret brings over for them to share, and the way David’s pickup truck sounds when it starts.

The autumn is when Emma goes into labor. She grits her teeth and tells him as much while she’s trying to fold laundry one late afternoon. It’s a blur of lights and colors and sounds. A blur of long hours standing and sitting at her side. A blur of emotions when it’s finally time to push. 

Brushing back her sweaty hair from her face, allowing her to squeeze the circulation out of his one and only hand, encouraging her as much as she’ll let him. 

And when it happens, when the first cries break the surface tension, everything else fades away. 

Ten tiny fingers. Ten tiny toes. 

Pointy little ears and soft dark hair. 

Shrieks that turn into gentle whimpers. 

Emma, Emma, Emma.

He kisses her soundly and whispers, “You did it. I’m so proud of you, love.”

She laughs a little, her eyes filled with tears. She’s unable to look away from the newborn on her chest.

“She’s so beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emma looks up at him with a glare. 

He chuckles. “I’m only teasing. She clearly gets it all from you.”

His heart has never been as full as it is that early autumn morning, standing in a hospital room with his newborn daughter in his arms and his life forever changed.

The town throws an autumn festival, full of games and food along Main Street. There’s a hayride that one of his closest friends, Robin, takes them on free of charge.

There are fewer things he thinks are sweeter than seeing his son in a Halloween costume a few weeks later, dressed up like Peter Pan, except maybe seeing his newborn daughter as Tinkerbell.

For many years on the island, Killian ignored holidays. There was no need to celebrate when it was just him, and even fewer reasons while he wallowed in sorrow and grief. 

There were a lot of reasons to be thankful this Thanksgiving. 

Friends. Family. 

It had been so long since he’d had either, but it felt like he’d known them forever. 

Finally gathered around the dining table, Killian takes a long look around at the faces of his friends and family. 

Emma sits with their daughter in a wrap pressed to her chest, her soft swaths of dark hair peeking out on top, so gentle and sweet. Henry sits between them, happily digging into his meal without any thought. 

“I’d like to make a toast.” Killian says, standing. He clears his throat. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to Emma and I that you would choose to come to our home and spend today with us. That’s sort of what I’d like to toast, actually, uh… not all of you know this, but for a good portion of my life, I chose to isolate myself. I literally lived on an island. I had nothing to celebrate, and I didn’t want to, either.”

Pausing, he meets Emma’s eyes and returns her smile.

“But this year, I have so much to celebrate. And I want to thank all of you for that. You welcomed me into your community without a second thought. I’m thankful this year for my family.” He looks to his children, then to David and Mary Margaret. He turns to the rest of the table. “And for your friendship. Without it, I would be as lost as I once was.

“So, a toast, to the community we have. And to living a life worth celebrating.”

“Here here!”

/

WINTER

Winter brings him full circle. 

On the first snowfall of the year, Killian wakes to Emma’s excited gasps and her hands on his arm, shaking him awake.

“It’s snowing! Killian, it’s snowing!”

She’s out of bed faster than he can open his eyes all the way, already rushing up the hall to get their son out of his crib. With a small smile, he waits for her to return, both of their children in her arms.

She’s breathless, her hair still a mess from sleep, yet she’s smiling so happily. “Come on, Daddy, we gotta go out and get some of the snow!”

Henry giggles. “Daddy go!”

They work as a team to prepare the children for their first snow of the year, and the moment they step outside, Emma turns to him, absolutely beaming.

It’s been a year. A year since the ocean brought her to him.

He can still remember the day she asked him to take her out into the first snow of the season, her eyes shining just as much as they do now. 

She doesn’t have to say anything for him to know that this is a meaningful day for her. For them.

In one sense, the first snow is a reminder of the beginning of their relationship. The day they’d started to see one another as they truly were.

If there’s anything this year has taught him, there’s a lot to love about learning Emma and Henry in a world far from the chilly, wintery sea.

Henry loves the snow. He catches snowflakes on his mittens and keeps calling out for them to show them. And then there’s footprints in the snow, and tasting snow, and falling in the snow. Crying because the snow is too cold, but laughing the moment he’s safe in Killian’s arms.

And when they go back inside, all Henry wants to do is rush straight back out into it again.

Storybrooke at Christmastime is a feast of colors, foods, and celebration. 

They spend a lot of time with family and friends, gathered together at Granny’s for her special holiday menu. Killian and Emma build a snowman that Henry helps them decorate. Mary Margaret and David help them find the perfect, massive tree that goes in their foyer.

On Christmas morning, well before the children have stirred, his wife finds him sitting in front of the fireplace, lined with stockings, reading a book that he swore he’d read months ago. When he was on the island, he could read several books in one sitting. Now, not so much.

“I have a present for you.” Emma says, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind.

Killian lifts an eyebrow. “It’s not Christmas until the children are up.”

She laughs into his ear and then joins him on the sofa, a wrapped gift in her hands. “I know… just trust me.”

His mind races, unsure of what this secret gift could possibly be that it would require him to just trust her. 

Taking a deep breath, she extends the present toward him. “I’ve been working on this all year.”

He hesitates, his thumb finding the crease in the wrapping paper corner. “Oh, so no pressure, then.” He winks at her, smirking. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Quickly, he pulls the paper away from what lies beneath. At first, he isn’t sure what he’s looking at. It’s a hardcover book with the word “Journal” in sprawling cursive on the front.

He flips the book open, curious.

On the first page, there’s a date, a small entry, and a photograph. The date is Christmas Eve, only a year ago, and the entry reads:

Today, you told me that you were home here. This journal is going to be a document of that. 

The photo is of he, Emma, and Henry sitting in their favorite booth at Granny’s. He remembers Mary Margaret insisting that they take a picture on his very first day in town. Now, he’s glad he has it.

While he looked absolutely miserable physically, he can still remember not feeling any pain until he had to lie down to sleep that night. 

He flips the page. Another entry. The following day.

“I don’t think I’m fond of peppermint, Emma.” But you still smelled like peppermint all day today. 

Killian laughs under his breath, smirking at the photo she’d clearly taken of him incognito, biting a candy cane.

He continues to flip through the journal, addicted to seeing Emma’s insights of their experiences.

We argued over paint chips for exactly 3 minutes before you doubled over laughing and let me choose all the right shades of white. Thank you.

A photo of the paint chips in question follows.

Killian continues turning the pages until he finds one day in particular that finally pulls him out of the gift.

Their wedding day.

You smelled like the ocean today.

A photo of he and Henry standing on the beach much later in the night follows. They’re both barefoot, standing in the sea foam. He hadn’t realized she was taking pictures. 

Looking up at Emma, he finds her nervously biting on her lower lip.

“You did this everyday?”

She nods. “Yeah.” He flips the page. “Just like your mom’s journal. Except this one, I hope, gives you different feelings when you look at it.”

Killian hums. “It does.” 

He can’t help but smile, studying a photo of his son kissing Emma’s growing bump just a few months ago. 

“Look at today.”

He does as she asks, flipping all the way to the end of the journal. The final entry is a little bit longer than the others he’s had the time to read.

This year, you: bought a house, got married, got a new job, made a lot of friends, had a baby, adopted a dog, watched a lot of cable TV, celebrated every holiday, loved your kids with everything you had, and spent every day in between making a difference. Thank you for choosing us, Killian.

A photo of him and the children sitting at the breakfast table follows. His baby daughter in one arm, Killian’s singing one of those silly nursery rhymes along with Henry, who sits at the table beside him, beaming brightly with crinkles by his eyes. 

He remembers the giggles, the fit of laughter that came from Henry’s belly, and the way his sticky fingers felt against his cheeks and lips when he leaned in close enough. 

The photo is pure joy. A true encapsulation of the year they’ve shared.

Like before, he isn’t sure how Emma went unnoticed taking this picture, but he’s glad she did. 

“This year was special for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason is that it was your first year away from the island.” Emma says. “And I wanted to give you something that proved that it was worth it. That proved you were here and it mattered.”

He looks up at her, tears welling in his eyes. He manages to smile softly at her. “Thank you.”

Emma puts her right hand on his face, rubbing her thumb against the apple of his cheek. “I know I’ve said it before, but thank you for being there that day. For me and Henry. This book is proof that we’re here, too.”

Killian turns his head to kiss her palm. He sets the book aside and determinedly lays Emma back on the sofa with his lips pressed to hers. She runs her fingers through his hair as they languidly share a stolen moment, free of distraction and interruption.

Before he can get too carried away, Killian breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against Emma’s. 

She bites on her lip after her tongue darts out to soothe it, a twinkle in her eye. “What was that for?”

“For giving this year to me.” He looks into her eyes, cocking an eyebrow. “Quite literally.”

She hums sweetly, tugging at his hair. “Here’s to seventy more, my love.”

[hyucksong]

come on saturday afternoons, when it’s golden hour.| lee donghyuck

summary: Falling in love for a decade with a boy who’s as confusing as could be may be a mistake, but you’re too distracted by his nimble fingers making poisonous flower crowns and his golden honey-like skin to care. He seems too busy looking bitterly at the moon to forget to stop leading you on, too. So all is fair. 

word count: 10.0k words

warnings: angsty and talks about insecurity and lowkey obsession with a person

a/n: by the way; haechan is called two different names in this. he’s called “donghyuck” when he’s thinking about himself and when y/n talks, thinks, or references him. he’s called “haechan” when it’s one of his other friends interacting with him, and also by y/n towards the end. it’s meant to signify the distance she puts between him and herself. 

///

   Donghyuck is the son of the golden hour. He has to be, you think, because there is no one that embodies the epitome of sun-kissed beauty as well as he does. You are a witness to this ethereal beauty because you’ve spent your whole life living next to him. 

   It’s funny, his house emits the same beauty he does. The way the vines are overgrown in the prettiest way, running over the window sills and growing into the muted yellow-painted wooden paneling. The way the cracks on the sidewalk leading up to his humble abode are filled with yearning budding flowers instead of cement and milkweed. Even the sculptures on the pathway to his house are covered in beautiful vines that wrap themselves around the bodies of the solid stone art, silently suffocating their inanimate figures. To most, that may seem dull, but nothing related to Lee Donghyuck could be dull to you. In some strange way, you saw the beauty in his beat-down and poorly taken-care-of yard. 

   You remember the first time you met him, a decade ago, when you walked past your chatting parents into his yard. It was golden hour then, too, you recall, because you remember the orange light soaking your memory’s walls. You walked up to the kneeling boy with caramel skin; he was picking flowers from the ground in the farthest corner of the house lot, the only place the ugly flowers sprouted. It was a corner shrouded in dark shadow and it was noticeably a few degrees cooler there. Every once in a while, before he moved in, you’d pass by the old house and stare at the corner, feeling a somber feeling come over you. But somehow the boy lit the area up, warms streams of light flooding the previously cold patch. 

   He was picking weeds, lacing them together into a wicked flower crown. He paid no mind to your mud-stained sneakers stopping in front of him, he only continued on with his actions. 

   “You know those are bad for you, right?” The young boy stopped his movements, looking up at you for the first time. You immediately took note of his dark brown eyes with flecks of amber in them, almost getting mesmerized by their still gaze. 

   His eyes scanned you, not really caring. He automatically went back to his poisonous flower crown, causing an uneasy feeling to stir within you. “I know.” 

   Silence ensued, making the air feel suffocating. Despite his cold shoulder, you sat down next to him in the patch of mud by his side, not daring to cross onto the patch of grass he sad comfortable on. He seemed surprised but quickly went back to his indifferent facade, scooting away from you. 

   Hours passed as he made more and more flower crowns, and you simply watched. There was no conversation between you both, only a mutually appreciated quietness. It was when there was no warmth left of the sun, and instead, there was only the biting chilly air of the moon that nipped at your skin, did he finally speak again. 

   “Don’t you think the flower crowns are pretty?” He asked, his head tilted to the side as he held one out to you. You saw the intricate interweaving of the milkweed stems with one another, not even the hairy peach fuzz took away from the delicate-looking crown. You nodded vigorously, hoping to please him. And you did, because he offered you one of the many he made before getting up and looking at the sky. 

   “The moon is kind of ugly, don’t you think?” You looked up at him, surprised at his randomness. But, you paid no mind to it, opting to simply stare at how his nose scrunched at the sight of the glowing orb in the sky. 

   “Yeah.” No, you didn’t. You loved the moon, the way it shone beautifully. The moon was subtle beauty. Donghyuck (his parents told you his name) was obvious, infinite beauty. But you wanted to please him. 

   He smiled a little, “Cool. We agree.” You awkwardly shifted on your feet, only giving him a tight-lipped smile. He didn’t even show you out of his yard, and he walked up the steps to his house that had warm orange lights illuminating the bushes in front of the windows softly. Not knowing what to do, you stood in place, watching him walked gracefully closer to the door. 

   Before he fully stepped in, he looked back at you with an emotion that you could never fully recall, speaking in a strangely authoritative voice, “Come back tomorrow and actually help me make some flower crowns. At golden hour.”

   You went back the next day. And the day after that, and the week after that, and the month after that. Years passed and you’d still regularly meet with him in the back of his yard on warm Saturday afternoons. You never interacted with him outside of those times, and you were content with that. As you passed him in the school halls, only you would know the sacred time you spent together. You loved it because it was like having a little piece of him just to yourself.

   You were eight then. You still had the milkweed flower crown, just now it was pressed into a glass frame that hung across from the foot of your bed.

///

  When your legs started growing a little longer, and you noticed changes to your body that hadn’t been apparent before, you were eleven. You only realized you were going through puberty because the little patch of hair that started to grow under your arms, and the way you crinkled your nose when you sweated, the smell unfamiliar.

  Some would call you a late bloomer, but you’d disagree. Late bloomers didn’t fall in love early. Late bloomers didn’t spend their days counting the freckles on Donghyuck’s nose -- late bloomers didn’t love so strongly. You told your friend that you thought Donghyuck was cute, and she laughed at you, muttering how he looked like a pumpkin with his chubby face. You frowned, reminding yourself to get new friends who were nicer. (She was the same friend who told you years later that he was light-years out of your league.) 

  Donghyuck still seemed to be stuck in his elementary school days, his baby fat still sticking to him cutely. You found it endearing, the way you had to look down at him when you talked with him in the cool corner of his backyard. You didn’t mind being taller than him, it gave you the perfect view of his eyelashes casting shadows against his golden skin.

  “Can you stop staring at me and actually do something?” He sneered playfully, sighing dramatically and placing his nearly-finished flower crown on his knee. The surface layer skin was broken, little pellets of blood pooling. He had fallen at school, the mulch on the school playground rather unforgiving.

  “Geez, sorry.” You muttered back, a small smile spreading across your face. You pick back up your flowers, interweaving the leave with delicate motions, careful not to break the bonds. It was silent again, the only sounds the ones of the leaves rustling as the sun dove under the horizon.

   These were the moments you treasured with him. The ones where neither of you spoke and the sun would quietly dip under the horizon. The moments where you could stare freely as he paid no mind to you, off in his own little world.

   “Haechan!” A voice called from inside. You both looked up, stopping your ministrations. His mom walked out of the backyard door, a bright smile taking your attention. “Your friends are here!” With the mention of those words, the temperature dropped. You tilted your head in question and glanced at him, confused. “It’s Saturday? I thought we were hanging out today?” The words seemed to swim past his ears. Hastily, he stood up, his hand reaching for yours. The burn of his skin on yours was enjoyable but it didn’t last, because he suddenly started to shove you out of the back fence. You watched as his pearl white sneakers stepped on the flower crown you were working on, the white blood of the flower spilling out, soaking the dirt beneath it. 

   The image of him stepping on your hard work caused your eyes to well up, your bottom lip started to quiver. 

   “Hurry and -- What? Why are you crying?” You wish you could say you heard care in his voice, but it felt more like you were an annoyance, like you were a problem to be dealt with. You shook your head, not giving him an answer. He groaned, quickly looking back at the silhouettes of his ‘friends’ in the window. His eyes analyzed the yard, grabbing the first thing laying next to your shoe on the ground and shoving it into your chest. 

   “Here, have this. I got to go. See you later.” And like that, Lee Donghyuck shoved an enormous hoodie in your hands that still hung in your closet. It was so big back then that you could wear it as a dress, but now it fits like a large sweatshirt. Even after all these years, it still smells like the freshly cut grass from back then. 

///

   Donghyuck always had a habit of flicking his thumb and pointer finger against each other when he was nervous. You didn’t notice it until you were in your Freshmen year of high school, age fourteen, and he got called by the teacher to stay after class and talk to her. 

   He nodded, and for the whole hour, his leg was bouncing up and down. You decided to stay after and take a little longer to pack your things up before school let out for the day. After the bell rang and the students poured out the single door, rushing to get to the buses, he got up shakily from his spot behind you. 

   You didn’t know why he didn’t sit next to you, you distinctly remember patting the seat next to you on the first day of class, but he just moved past your seat to the row behind you. He sat down with Jeno, a boy you recall was on the swim team. At least he sat behind you, you thought.

   “Did you cheat on your test, Mr.Lee?” 

   Your eyes snapped up to look at the expression on his face. You frowned at his stuttering lip. “N-No.” 

   She raised an unconvinced brow, “Oh, really? Then why does your short answer look exactly like Ms. L/n Y/n?” 

   You saw his fingers start to move, anxiously flicking each other as he thought up a lie. You felt bad because you had told him he could cheat off of you before class; you knew he didn’t get much sleep the night before due to the soccer team practicing late that day.

   Shoving your binder into your bag, you quickly zipped up the large pocket and headed over to the teacher's desk, a shy smile on your lips. She was unimpressed by your interruption, opting to glare at you. “Yes, Ms. L/n?”

   “I’m sorry Mrs.Kim, but I heard you accusing Donghyuck of cheating,” she frowned at your choice of words, “and I’d just like to say, that it wasn’t him who cheated.” 

   A scoff left her red lips, and you couldn’t help but notice the wearing of the cherry red lipstick in the middle of her mouth. “That’s very cute of you, Ms. L/n. But he cheated off of you, I graded the papers.” 

   Donghyuck’s wide eyes stared at you, waiting for your next move. His fingers were still flicking each other rapidly, but his gaze was different. It looked like he was depending on you. Like he needed you.

   “Sorry Mrs.Kim, but I was the one who cheated off of him.”

   She didn’t buy it for a minute, “How? He sits behind you.”

   Your eyes did a quick scan of the room, hoping to find something, anything, that could prove your lie. That’s when your eyes found a mirror hanging in the wall buy your seat. You fought your smile, “Well, I looked through the mirror next to me.” The teacher’s head snapped to the reflection of you three standing at her desk. “I learned to read backward in seventh grade for a science project.” It was true. 

   With a huff, she quickly grabbed a red pen and wrote a big ‘0′ on your paper before dismissing you both to go home. She left after mumbling things to herself, something about “bratty kids”. 

   The classroom was completely empty, the sun was dipping under the horizon again, a little early this time. It was daylight savings time, you remembered. 

   “Hey,” A smooth voice let out. You looked behind you, tearing your attention away from the golden light pouring in through the windows and at the handsome smile on Donghyuck’s face. His baby fat disappeared, his shoulders got wider, and his legs grew longer. But he still had that same breath-taking smile he always did. 

   “Yes?” 

   “Thanks. I’ll be more careful next time.” You recognized a playful tone, you nodded and giggled at him. “Please do that. I don’t think my mom will be very happy about the zero for a test grade.” He flung his black backpack over his shoulder and stuck one of his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. 

   “See you on Saturday.” He let his hand gently grab your shoulder, before letting it fall and trail down to your hand. He gave it one squeeze before walking away, not sparing you a single glance. Your hand burned at his warm, golden touch. 

   You didn’t mind taking the blame, because he let you see a little part of him no one else noticed. It was an eye for an eye, you told yourself. 

///

   You were sixteen and hated parties. They always reminded you of some bad teen movie where the girl’s heart gets broken and the boy watches as she goes to someone else to console herself from his memory. But Donghyuck’s strange persistence was new to you, and you happily obliged to go. 

   “Y/n, are you going to the party at Jaemin’s tonight?” You quirked a brow playfully at the busy boy, smiling. “What do you think? Hyuck, I’ve never talked to the guy. I don’t know anyone who’s going to be there.”

   “Errnt. Wrong -- you know me.” He replied, a smile adorning his features as he tilted his head and closed his eyes childishly. You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your place on the white table set his mom had recently bought, stating, “You two are too old to be sitting on the grass and getting your pants dirty.” 

   “And you want me to go this time, why?” Donghyuck proceeded to put down his fifth flower crown and place his chin between his thumb and forefinger, thinking. “Hmmm, Oh, I don’t know -- because you’re my best friend and I want to take you places?” 

   Your fingers stopped moving, the plant temporarily forgotten as you stared, shocked, at an unnoticing Donghyuck. “W-What?” He had never called you his best friend before. Hell, he’d never called you his friend before. Some may have taken that as strange, but you considered it a weird aspect of your friendship. But hearing the words leave his pretty pink heart-shaped lips wasn’t good for your heart rate. 

   “What?” He shrugged, reaching over the table to push your forehead back with his pointer finger. “You didn’t think we were friends? After eight years?” You shook your head, a smile breaking onto your face. “No, it’s nothing. When do you need me to be there?”

   “On second thought, can you pick me up with you? At eight tonight? Oh, and bring your polaroid -- I wanna take pictures.” 

   That was how you were standing outside, your yellow polaroid around your neck as the flies buzzed around your red solo-cupped drink. From the smell, you were sure it was vodka. You crinkled your nose and dumped it on the owner’s lawn. Sorry, not sorry.

   Donghyuck said he’d meet you out on the barren back patio at nine, reassuring you that you could manage on your own for an hour and that he just wanted to say hi to some people and get a little alcohol in his system. You didn’t have the strength to tell him you didn’t care about his need for some illegal product -- you just wanted to go home -- so you nodded and agreed to wait.

   But considering the weather forecast stated that it was supposed to reach forty degrees by nine, your decision wasn’t the best. You sat on the concrete ledge, butt cold and snuggling into your hoodie that Haechan had given you so long ago. 

   When your lungs got sore from the cold air, you buried your nose in the warm hoodie. It still smelled like him even after all this time. 

   “Ditched, I’m guessing?” A pair of vans with black straight-legged jeans appeared next to you, and you couldn't help the jolt that left your body. A laugh sounded, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” A boy you recognized as Jaemin, the host, sat next to you, a half-full red solo cup in his ring-covered hand. 

   “Oh, It’s...okay. You didn’t scare me. I was just thinking.” You shifted away from him, not too familiar with Donghyuck’s friends. His latter words popped into your head again, “and no, I didn’t get ditched. I’m here with...someone”. He noticed your pause and grinned, letting his gaze drop to the grass blades beneath his feet. “Relax, I’m not going to try anything.” He rested his arms and head on his knees that were near his chest. 

   “I didn’t think you were.” You assured. A silence that made your skin crawl ensued, but the attractive boy didn’t leave. “So,” he bobbed his head and looked around the yard, “who did you come with?” 

   “Donghyuck.” You answered, lifting the red cup to your lips, only to find that there was nothing there and awkwardly placing it down by your feet. “Donghyuck?” He questioned, “You mean Haechan, right? Lee?” You nodded, rolling your eyes slightly. “His real name is Donghyuck.” You scolded yourself for giving him any sass, poor guy probably just wanted to talk to someone. Though, you thought, there were plenty more interesting people inside the house where the heat was on rather than outside in the biting weather. 

   “...Yeah...” Jaemin mused, his eyes narrowing, “I know. I’ve known him since we were eleven.” This surprised you, and you whipped your head around to him. “Oh?” 

   “Yeah, I still remember going over to his house once and going into his backyard and there were a bunch of flower crowns everywhere. Not gonna lie, we poked fun at him for it -- ‘we’ being me, Jeno and Renjun -- it was light-hearted, though. But, turns out they were made by some ‘freak that lived next door that sneaked into the yeard.’ He quoted with his fingers, not paying any mind to the look that crossed your features. 

   Freak? Did he think you were a freak? 

   “How long have you known him?” He broke you out of your racing thoughts. “Oh, um, since we were eight. I’m his, uh, neighbor.” A startled wince appeared on his face as he muttered out an ‘oh’ and scratched his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” 

   “It’s fine, I’m sure he was just playing.” Another round of silence and you were sure that the cinnamon-haired boy was going to leave, but he stayed. He was warm, probably from being inside, and it radiated off him onto you. It was nice, having someone sit next to you, for once. You supposed Na Jaemin wasn’t too annoying. 

   “So, how do you know Haechan? Like did you date or...?” His shoulders bumped into yours playfully and you avoided eye contact, hoping he didn’t see your blush from his prying. “No, we never dated, I’m his...” You stopped. 

   “I’m his...” you trailed off again, not really knowing what to call it. But, recalling his words from earlier, a giddy grin lifted the corners of your lips upwards. “Best friend. I’m his best friend.” Jaemin rose a brow and laughed, “It’s the first time I’ve ever heard about you...?”

   “Y/n.” You gave him a tight smile, not knowing what else to say. 

   “Y/n.” He repeated, smiling. “That’s a beautiful name.” A hand came down to pat your arm, and it felt strangely comforting. “Thanks,” you glanced at him one last time, “Jaemin.” A breathtaking smile erupted from you saying his name, and it made you a little happier, too.

   The atmosphere was idyllic, unusually so, because you honestly thought that you’d be spending most of the night alone. Looking at Jaemin, he was more of a cool boy, opposite of Donghyuck. Jaemin was like the night, in a sense. Cool, mysterious, yet open like the black sky. There was nothing to be afraid of with him. He wasn’t quite as smooth as honey and he wasn’t quite as enrapturing as the love of your life. But, he was warm in a way Donghyuck wasn’t. 

   But before your mind could wander more, a familiar silhouette of Donghyuck was cast onto the green backyard. It belonged to the drunken boy who stood in the doorway, a suave smile on his lips. Jaemin hesitated before ruffling the hair on your head and whispering, “Be careful.” in your ear before getting up to leave, grabbing Haechan’s shoulder and sharing a look with him briefly before heading inside. One last pitiful look and he was gone. 

   “What was that about?” You asked, leaning back on your arms to gaze at the glowing boy standing above you. He looked down at you and smiled. “Nothing, just reminding me to do something...or not to do something, I guess.”

   “Let me guess, you’re not going to listen to him?” The boy’s expected nod made you laugh and shake your head, “You know me so well.”

   “I know I do. I had to deal with you for eight years.” 

   “You deal with me? Isn’t it the other way around?” You were about to quip back when you remembered what Jaemin had said earlier about Donghyuck calling you a freak, and your voice died in your throat. Carelessly, he sat next to you, one beautiful hand threading through his hair. Donghyuck wasn’t looking at you, instead, he seemed to be glancing at his watch and swirling the smelly drink around in his cup. You could tell because you heard the sloshing. 

   “Anyway,” you cleared your throat, “why did you want me to bring my camera?” The boy’s eyes lit up and he smiled that heart smile of his that created daylight even in the middle of the darkest of nights.

   “I realized that we didn’t have any pictures together, and I kind of wanted to take some.” You scoffed, he was never one for sentimentality. “Uh-huh, that’s totally the reason why.” 

   “Fine, you got me,” He giggled, “Mom wants to make a scrapbook for your mom’s birthday coming up. She thought it’d only make sense to have both of us in it, but I had no pictures to give her when she asked for them, so.” He shrugged, “I’m killing one bird with one stone.” 

   “That’s not how the saying goes, Hyuck.”

   “I know, I’m not dumb.” 

   “Whatever, let’s just take the pictures so I can take us both back home.” This elicited a whine from Haechan and he plopped his head on your shoulder, making you go stiff. “I don’t wanna go yet~!” It was probably just you feeling guilty, or maybe it was his breath on your neck, but you agreed to take him home later. You could stay outside. 

   “Let’s take the pictures now! I’m keeping people waiting inside.” 

   “O-Okay.” You stuttered out, scooting closer to him. You still stopped a few inches apart from him and angled your polaroid to snatch a picture, but the boy chuckled and encircled his arm around your waist. He moved closer and placed his other hand on your face to squish your cheeks together, making a silly fish face. “Let’s make them cute for our moms.”

   He posed you three other times, one with his legs over your lap and your laughter showing through the overexposed pictures, one with you both stroking your chins in 1940s detective style, and one where you two were playfully staring into each other’s eyes, in a staring contest. After that last one, you shyly told Hyuck that you couldn’t take any more because you didn’t want to waste your film, but really it was because you weren’t sure how much more your heart could take with all his golden goodness.

   “Yeah, yeah -- one more.” He pouted, “Please?” You sighed and nodded slowly, secretly loving the way he giggled and clung to your loose arm like an excited kid. 

   “Okay, pose me, pose-master.” You dropped your arm to your sides, waiting for him to work his magic. He nodded and took your camera. “Hey -- ”

   “Oh, hush, I’m taking the picture this time.” You glanced nervously at his carefree hand holding the polaroid but nodded again. “Okay, please don’t drop it.” 

   It was his turn to roll his eyes, “Of course, your highness.” A giggle escaped your mouth and you motioned for him to continue, but he simply moved even closer to you than before. Your heart rate was through the roof but you remained still and let him do his thing; but, after all the shuffling, he made no move to move you, instead, he put his face right in front of yours.

   Wide-eyed, your eyes shot down to his lips before stuttering out, “W-What’re you doing?” 

   He put his finger against your mouth, effectively shushing you as you weren’t used to his warm honey skin touching yours. “This picture isn’t for mom. It’s for us.” You could practically feel his whisper on your lips. His slender fingers brushed back a piece of your hair, slowly tucking it behind your red ears. “Wow, your ears are so red,” he whispered, letting his palm completely cup your face. 

   Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips pushed onto yours.  His metal rings burned your hot skin as they slid past your face and he cradled your neck, pushing your lips deeper into his. It was feverish. Deliciously so. 

   Words couldn’t describe your feelings. It felt like a dream -- a dream you’ve had since you were eight. His honey-sweet lips on yours, stealing your first kiss. One hand moving from your neck to resting beside your leg as he leans in to caress you with his kiss. His warm breath fanning against your lips, you breathing in his scent that wafted off his clothes in the cold moonlit night. It was beautiful. It was saccharine. It was like candy. 

   It was addicting. 

   Then the camera flashed. And you awoke out of your dreamlike state as he parted from you, not noticing as you trailed after him, wiping your mouth as a thin string of spit connected you both. He didn’t look at you as it came out of the camera, he simply gently shook the picture and stared as it developed, sucking on his bottom lip in impatience. Once it did, you managed to catch a look; and it was ethereal. The light captured your red ears and softly interlocked lips, and Donghyuck’s collarbones, somehow, caught the camera light. His cheeks were red, and so were his ears, but they were so faint you’d have to squint.

   “Donghyuck --” You started, eyes shimmering as you turned towards him, about to ask him about the sweet kiss. There was a pool of hope growing in your stomach, bubbling like boiling sugar -- but it all drained as you saw his expression. Indifference. He looked at you like he always did, and his red flush was gone, the only evidence of your doings left on his lips as they swelled. The magical atmosphere seemed to diminish in thin air, and suddenly the cold was very apparent again. The wind picked up. 

   “It looks too blurry...but it’ll do.” With that, he half-shrugged and pocketed the picture, ignoring your shocked eyes as a corner of the picture began to dog-ear from being nonchalantly shoved into his jeans. 

   “I’m going to get some more vodka, I’m not drunk enough.” And he got up and left, just like that. No explanation. Nothing. But you didn’t need his words to understand that he didn’t mean the kiss like you wanted him to mean it. You just didn’t know what he meant by it.

   Not knowing his exact reason was what acted as bait, your heart was getting tugged by his hook. You were still ensnared by this glowing boy. 

   Even with the tears welling in your eyes and your heart pounding painfully against your ribcage, you still smiled. It was a painful smile, but it was a smile. 

   Donghyuck had kissed you. You. That had to mean something, hadn’t it? You pocketed that shred of hope, holding it close to your heart as tears fell from your eyes. They were happy tears. They had to be. The love of your life had just kissed you, no one else. You. 

   Your tears seemed to shimmer in the patio light: they were a golden color as they rolled down your face and off your chin. They fell into a grass blade beneath you and caused a blade of yellowing grass to droop.

   You thought it was beautiful.

   He gave the picture back to you the following Monday, ignoring your questioning state and simply stating that ‘He didn’t need it anymore’. You were about to ask him what he meant by that but his friend, Jaemin you remembered, grumpily waved him over from across the hall. You were too overjoyed by having the picture in your grasp to remind yourself to ask again. You two never did talk about that kiss, though, or about the pitiful gaze Jaemin gave you as Haechan walked towards him. 

///

   Donghyuck was not the type to ‘like’ anyone.

   It wasn’t that he thought he was too cool to do so, it wasn’t that he thought there was no one good enough for him, it wasn’t even that he was afraid of the love of his life falling for someone else. That’s not what he was afraid of.

   He was afraid of the sunspots, the imperfections of himself. He was afraid of being open about his insecurities. He was afraid of someone not seeing him for who he was, but at the same time, all he wanted people to see was his perfection. People thought he was good-looking anyway, why let that all be ruined by his emotional trauma?

   So when he turned eighteen and he started to look at your long lashes casting shadows on your face, and those luscious lips glistening from your tongue in a whole new light, he was scared. He didn’t like you, no, no, no. Surely not. You were just getting pretty, that was all. Your eyes were just getting bigger, that’s why it was so easy for him to get lost in them. Your body temperature must’ve been getting higher, that’s why the casual brush of your skin against his was burning him. You were just...changing. So was he, that was all. Man, was he going through puberty late, or what? All these unfamiliar emotions annoyed him. They made his nostrils flare; because for once, he wasn’t in control of his own emotions. 

   Not that it mattered too much, anyway. He wasn’t in love with you -- that was for sure. Love was much too strong of a word. He couldn’t -- not with all the things he’s done to you in the past, at least.

   (That’s what he told himself.) 

///

   When you were eighteen, around Christmas time, Donghyuck asked you to spend the night at his house for the first time. Yeah, you’ve been to his house before, but you’ve never stayed the night. He’s probably seen your room more times than you’ve seen his parents, both of them, combined. But now that you were half a year away from graduation, you weren’t as focused on having fun. Surprising yourself, you’d called a raincheck on the past three flower crown sessions. 

   And even more surprising, he turned up to your doorstep on Friday at eight at night asking you to stay the night at his house, a red glow to his face. Without thinking, you nodded and quickly grabbed your things before leaving your mom a note and rushing out your door to his house. 

   “Why’re you inviting me over, anyway? I’ve known you for ten years and you’ve never asked me to do this.” You were closing the door to his house behind you, making sure it didn’t slam shut. “Oh, please,” he threw his hat on a coat hanger, “I’ve seen your place plenty of times.”

   “Yeah, but I’ve never spent the night at yours. This is like a level up in friendship.”

   He sneered, “Never say that again. God.” You rolled your eyes, muttering a playful ‘whatever’ as you bumped his shoulder walking past him into the kitchen.  He faced the marble counters in an attempt to hide his smile, but you could see the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

   He dug through the cabinets, grabbing out ingredients to make pancakes -- or at least, that’s what it looked like -- and you were left to trail your eyes over his broad shoulders. His smooth skin disappeared underneath his graphic t-shirt that lifted up to reveal the pastier skin of his hip whenever he reached up. This boy had you entranced, and you loved it. 

   He hummed a tune that was barely audible over the clamor of the metal pots and pans he took out, but your keen ear could tell his voice was just as beautiful as it was as an awkward middle school choir boy, probably even better. 

   The silence was broken by him clearing his throat, “Neither of my parents will be home for the weekend. And...I felt alone so...” he shrugged, “I wanted someone over. And, you’re the closest, so...” 

   You could tell his face was red without even looking at him. You bit your lip, hiding your smile. You moved from his island to right behind him, peering over his shoulder. Summoning all the courage in your nervous body, you rested your chin on his shoulder by standing on your tippy-toes. 

   Donghyuck stopped, his shoulder stiffening as he looked down at you with wide doe-like eyes. 

   It was his turn to admire you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you were the most beautiful you’ve ever been. With your dimples and rosy cheeks, crescent eyes -- all of it. You were cute, he couldn’t lie. And he couldn’t lie about his shock and loneliness from not seeing you for three weeks. Normally it was you sending him longing looks in the hallway, but this time around it was him watching your joyous figure hop around in festive spirit.  

   The one thing he noticed most of all, was the fact that you were on the balls of your feet to reach his shoulder. He beamed at you, shaking his head playfully before ducking down to, ‘be at your inferior level’. You laughed, shoving him away from you. His melodious laugh rang out, making your mind spin. Even his laugh was priceless. 

   The hours passed by as you both ate your chocolate pancakes and watched countless movies from your childhood. Donghyuck was never particularly touchy with you, but this time his arm fell into place behind your neck and his legs were pressed against yours. You could feel his warmth through his black fuzzy sweats. If he couldn’t see your red ears, you’d be shocked. 

   “Can we go to bed now? I’m tired of watching these lame chick-flicks.” The yawning boy complained, stretching out his limbs and pushing the coffee table with his feet in the process. “Oh, please, you act like you didn’t cry for the whole movie.” You retorted, flicking him on the forehead before getting up yourself, reaching your arms to the popcorn ceilings, stretching. 

   Donghyuck watched your pajama shirt ride up your sides, your smooth skin breaching his sight. The boy couldn’t help but rub the shell of his ear in embarrassment: since when did he get so flustered over a little piece of skin? He’s kissed you before for god’s sake. 

   He’s kissed you. The kiss that he thought about over and over again these past few months, even though it’s been two whole years since the kiss. For some reason, he’d dream of your shimmering eyes and moist lips. He smiled to himself when he could tell that you didn’t drink any alcohol that night; you didn’t taste like rum. Donghyuck was sure he did, though. 

   As you turned off the TV and took the popcorn bowl to the kitchen, he pondered about what had changed about you to elicit such a shift in his own heart. Was it because you were no longer awkward around him? Was it because your eyes focused on your work, even when he sat next to you? Was it because you no longer looked at him like he was the most important thing in your life? Or, Donghyuck shuddered at the thought, maybe I like her now. That was a thought he scrapped immediately. There was nothing special about you. You may have been in love with him, but it was not the other way around. 

   “Hyuck, what’re you waiting for? Let’s go to your room. Oh, and can you help me set up the air mattress?” You bounded up his carpeted stairs as you called out, knocking him out of his trance. “Oh, wait!” He yelled, switching off the lights in the living room quickly before copying your earlier actions. At the top of the stairs, you were rummaging through his linen closet, muttering about the dust. “Y/n, I said wait.” “Why? I want to get it set up now so I don’t have to do it when I’m tired.” 

   “Because we’re going to sleep together? Like I did when I slept over at your house?” The blood in your body must’ve all simultaneously stopped flowing because your fingers went cold and you became rigid. “W-What? Donghyuck, we’re not eight anymore. We’re eighteen.” But the aforementioned boy didn’t pay attention to your words as he plopped onto his bed, mocking you. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m eighteen seconds from forcing you to sleep on the ground if you don’t climb in here right now.” His sass covered up his pounding heart. 

   One glance at his side profile, and you were convinced. You slid into the blanket that was he cuddled in, wincing every time your skin brushed his. He had to have noticed your awkwardness. 

   But, if he did, he didn’t say anything. It was quiet. His room was dimly lit and the moon danced outside the window as the cicadas hummed their enchanting tunes. It was official, you noticed, Donghyuck was out of his prime time. It was no longer a golden honey paste painted across the skies, but instead a cool dark-toned black and blue painting, splotches of white catching your attention. Despite the change of environment, you had never felt more tranquil than laying next to the love of your life. 

   Donghyuck was freaking out. He hoped you couldn’t hear the songs his heart was singing. He hated it. He hated this feeling. He didn’t want to feel this way for you. He didn’t want to love you. Love meant vulnerability. It meant communication and working things out when they got hard. It meant being honest with your flaws. 

   After a few more minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, you reached behind you and turned off your light, ready to sleep. But at that moment, Donghyuck opened his mouth. Internally, he cursed himself. Was it the haze of sleepiness the moon cast over him that caused his heart to feel so pliable? He’d think about it later because right now he was finally letting go. Finally being himself. 

   “You know, I hate the moon?” The piece of information was familiar to you, so you nodded, hoping he could tell through his closed eyes. All of a sudden. he looked up, his eyes staring straight at yours like gorgeous ebony daggers. How ironic that he hated night, when his eyes looked like all the stars were twinkling within them. “Do you know why I hate it?” You kept silent, the look in your eyes urging him on.

   He turned back onto his back, staring up at his empty ceiling. He loathes this vulnerable and open feeling. Why was he talking to you right now? Why were you scooting closer and placing your head on his chest? Why was he allowing it? Why does he like it? “The moon is really barren. It’s just a gray surface littered with scars. Looking at it, I feel sick. The moon is... it’s vulnerable. If an asteroid crashes on the moon, it leaves a scar on the surface forever. It can never be healed or erased, even with time. But,” You heard him swallow, “The sun isn’t like that. The sun,” He sounded in awe, his indifferent and even disgusted voice he had when talking about the moon dissipating into wonder. “is strong. Nothing can hurt the sun. It commands attention and even mocks you as it does so because you can’t stare directly at it. You can’t get to close without getting hurt. It’s protecting itself.” His eyes were glimmering, and you couldn’t help but listen and stare.

   “If an asteroid hit the sun; it wouldn't make a dent. The sun would just swallow it -- unbothered. Plus, the sun is so beautiful. It’s a marble of strength with reds, yellows, and oranges dancing only for the sun. The explosions put on little shows for the sun’s eyes only.” He stops talking for a minute, seemingly collecting his thoughts.

   “The sun is like honey. It captures you; it captivates you. Once it has you in its grasp, you can never leave. It’s,” A smile broke out onto his face, one you had never seen before in all your years of knowing the boy. “enchanting. I want to be just like the sun.” 

   You didn’t say anything after that, because he dozed off. Little breaths left his mouth, and you laid there, thinking. If there was any Lee Donghyuck that you were in love with, it was the perfect golden sun version he described. Not the gloomy barren one who barely gave you glanced in the hallways in school.

   Maybe the sun was better than the moon. The moon has so many imperfections; the sun is perfect. It’s warm and inviting. Donghyuck is just like the sun. He’s perfect.

   He’s perfect. Was all you thought as you drifted off into dreamland yourself, satisfied with your conclusion that there was no imperfection on Donghyuck’s existence. You wouldn’t accept otherwise. It didn’t make sense otherwise.

(Could you not see his sunspots, Y/n? Because you’re about to.) 

///

   DOnghyuck had stopped talking to you the second you stepped out of the doorway to his house. That morning had been sweet, he told you good morning in a quiet voice and made you pancakes with cinnamon in them, he knew they were your favorite. 

   Your heart had pounded the whole weekend, anticipating Monday. Would he walk with you to school? Maybe even wait for you after school? Would he finally introduce you to his friend group? You didn’t know, but your smile was etched onto your face like plaster. Saturday was canceled, though, because he had to pick his parents up from the airport, but that was okay. You’d get to see him Monday.

   And when the morning came, he wasn’t home. Apparently, he left early for the club, his mom had told you. You nodded and frowned at her words, turning on your heels and walking to school with a slightly downtrodden face. You still have the afternoon! Don’t worry! The angel in the back of your head assured you, replacing that frown with a toothy grin before you entered your classroom doors.

   Yet, here was the end of the day, and here you were at your locker, taking books out to bring home with you, sighing. You hadn’t seen him at all. Maybe he was just slipping your slight, but a scary feeling in your stomach rose. Was he avoiding you? 

   “Hey, Y/n.” 

   The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you turned around, “Jaemin, you scared me.” A chuckle left the boy's lips, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just wanted to say hi.” You closed your locker, turning your body to fully face him. “Sure you did; nice to see you again, Jaemin. Is there something you need?” 

   The pretty boy’s brows furrowed, “Ah, yes, actually. Um, did you say something to Haechan recently? He’s been acting weird all day.”

   “He’s here today! I didn’t see him at all! Is he okay? The last time I saw him was Saturday morning when I left his house.” Jaemin’s face looked shocked, “I stayed over for a sleepover, nothing else.” You laughed, shaking your head at the boy. “O-Oh, I knew that.” He tried. 

   “I just thought you said something to him because he’s had a dazed look in his eyes all day. His responses in the group chat are really dry, too.” You pursed your lips, “He doesn’t text me, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. He was fine when I left Saturday morning.” 

   “Alright then. Anyway, I was wondering if--”

   “Hey, Y/n. Jaemin?” The voice that melted your heart for ten years appeared beside you, scaring the daylights out of Jaemin, who clutched his heart before sighing out loud. “Dude, you could’ve said something.”

   “I did, though?” Donghyuck smirked, one hand gripping the straps of his backpack before looking at you. 

   “Y/n.”

   “Hyuck.” You both spoke at the same time, Haechan’s eyes glimmered, and he ushered you to speak first, something he’d never done before. “Donghyuck,” your eyes traced his subtle features, landing back at his eyes. “What you said on Friday...you’re like the sun, you really are. Honey-like skin and all. You’re perfect, Donghyuck. ” 

   Donghyuck swore that his blood stopped flowing in his body. He felt his smile fall and his facial muscles tense, his fingers tightened around his bag before he scoffed, blinking a few times to make sure he was processing your words properly. You thought he was perfect? Did you not even listen to him on Friday? 

   One look back at your shining eyes, he knew the answer. You didn’t. Of fucking course, you didn’t. How could he ever expect you to understand him when all you’ve proven is that you’re blindly and stupidly in love with him? How could you understand him when he never let down his walls for you? Hell, even when he did, you never understood.

   “You're pathetic.” The unfamiliarly venomous words leave his mouth before he can think them over in his head. You blink back in shock, confused. Hurt. “Excuse me? W-What?”

   “I said -- you’re pathetic. You must be a fucking mole rat to be that blind. You don’t know shit about me.” His insults kept spilling out of his mouth, both you and Jaemin sitting there shocked. When he was finally done, you were still standing there, in front of your locker, processing his hurtful words.

   What the hell? You were mad. Scratch that, you were livid. You had been by his side for so long, yet he had the nerve to call you pathetic? But you were so confused too because he had spilled his guts to you on Friday. He had called you his best friend, he had made flower crowns with you for almost every Saturday for the past decade. He had kissed you. He had fucking kissed you. 

   Your state of mind was still frozen, but you managed a few words to get out while you dwelled on his hatred. Your gaze was still trained on the ground, unfocused and blurry. “Why did you kiss me, Donghyuck?” Donghyuck thought your voice sounded strangely calm, but one look at your face and he knew what was going on in your head was anything but. 

   Glazed-over wet eyes, a tense jaw, red cheeks (from embarrassment and hurt, he guessed), erratic breathing, nervously fingering the straps on your bag. You weren’t calm. Were you hurt? Shocked? Pensive, rethinking every moment you’ve ever known him? Donghyuck didn’t know what effect his words had on you this time. Part of him wanted to break out into a blinding smile and tell you he was joking, and then go back to never talking to you again. Cancel the Saturdays. Move out of the house. Move to another country. Another continent. Pretend like he never knew you. His words hurt you, yes, he knew that much, but your words dug into his heart like the daggers dragging on a stone wall, forever etching a scar. 

   Why did Donghyuck kiss you? The answer was simple in your mind -- he had been drunk that day. He had been drinking vodka, anyway, he had reeked of illegal drinking. But drunk actions were truthful thoughts, you believed. So you held onto that frayed string of hope, clutching on for dear life, praying -- that he liked you like you loved him. 

   Why did Donghyuck kiss you? The answer was complicated in his mind -- he had never loved you before. Hell, he had never loved anyone before. He just wanted to kiss you to win a bet and, like the stupid highschool boy he was, he did just that. Stole your first kiss. At some point after that, probably when you stopped spending as much time with him, he realized that you had left a mark on his heart. He hated it; he hated the thought of liking you. But absence had made his heart grow fonder. A year and a half after the kiss, he was ‘in like’ with you, maybe even in love. He spilled his guts to you that Friday night, hoping you’d get him. Hoping you’d nurse his wounds, his scars of insecurity. Hoping that you’d accept him, moon and all. He held onto that frayed string of hope, clutching on for dear life, praying - that you’d get him like he hoped you did. 

   But alas, even after a decade of golden Saturdays spent together, you didn’t get him like he had hoped. And he didn’t like you the way you loved him. Then again, he never really let you in to meet the real him. But you never really knocked on the door to his heart either. 

   He didn’t know how to respond. But one look at the stance Jaemin was taking -- crossing his arms with raised brows behind you, your own tears pooling at your waterline -- he decided.

   He decided anger. “God, I don’t know! Can you stop asking me such dumb questions? I was just curious Y/n! God, fuck! I don’t know!” Donghyuck ruffled his hair, irritated. 

   “Haechan,” Jamin’s nostrils flared, breath hot with hatred, “you know. You know, Haechan.” Your eyes darted over to Jaemin, dazed, then back to Donghyuck, weary. “Fine!” He exasperated, “there was a bet that I couldn’t kiss a random girl at the party. No one knew that I knew you, so I asked you to come with. I was drunk, okay. I- I wasn’t thinking straight.” The truth scraped his tongue on the way out; he felt guilty, taking your first kiss, taking a picture for proof, and then acting like nothing ever happened. He was sure he had broken your heart then. But he didn’t care at that time. 

   “Some random girl? You--” You paused, a painful and breathy laugh leaving your mouth, “You’ve never thought of me as anything more than a freak, have you Donghyuck? I was your embarrassment, wasn’t I? I was your dirty little secret you used for your fucking insecurities, wasn’t I?” The words attacked Donghyuck, and he hated it. He hated them because they were true. 

   “You’re overreacting! It was just a kiss!” He yelled, trying to defend what was left of his shriveling dignity. The devil on his shoulder urged him on -- that you really were overreacting. That you should’ve never fallen in love with him in the first place; that it was all your fault for not understanding him. 

   “It wasn’t just a kiss Donghyuck! I’ve loved you for years! Can’t you tell?” Salty tears dripped down your face, leaving cold tracks of water in their wake. The boy in front of you clenched his fists. “Actually, don’t answer that. You knew. You just used me. You always kept just enough hope to keep me going. Just enough. Well, Haechan. Fuck you, hope you’ve got what you’ve wanted.” The name his other friends called him felt weird coming from you, and he visibly winced at the way you spat out a distant name. There was a swell of pride deep in your soul, that he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

   “YOU CAN’T JUST BLAME ME! You never tried to understand me either! I was just a perfect boy with no flaws to you! Do you know how that feels?” No, you didn’t. He was right in that sense. You had never really noticed his flaws, he was a blurred photo to you. He was beautifully perfect in the still moment, but in real life, he was just like any other person. You had to admit, your obsession with his love had blinded you. And that wasn’t fair to him.

   But neither was leading you on for years.

   “THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU LEAD SOMEONE ON FOR A DECADE!” Silence fell over you two, Jaemin shifting in discomfort behind you. You’d forgotten he was there. 

   “I--” He started to yell, stopping. “But I liked you too.” He thought to himself, digging his nails in his palm to stop the words. “I don’t get you.” Calmly, he fixed his bag on his shoulder, turning to leave. His feet kept going. One. Two. One. Two. Walk straight ahead, don’t look back. 

   He heard you scoff behind him, “Likewise, you bastard.” 

   The sun, look at it. Be like the sun, consume what hurts you, and move on. Donghyuck gulped, your words exploding against his heart like sun flares blazing against the surface of the star. Tears finally fell on his honey face. Donghyuck was sweaty, hot, and emotional. He felt sticky, he felt disgusting. He just wanted to get home and take a shower, wash off the memories of the decade he had known you. Watch them whirl around the drain, never to be seen again. He wanted to forget ever knowing you. 

///

   Months had passed, the school year ended, giving way to summer. Graduation went smoother than expected. You walked the stage with confidence, you personalized cap and gown making people marvel. There was a moon on your hat, and on your heart. You had always preferred the moon to the sun, anyway. 

   Saturdays took a while to get used to. It was lonely for a while. That was, until Jaemin had invited you to hang out. You had thought about declining, but in a moment of disregard for your moping self, you had accepted. You asked if he was still friends with Haechan, and he smiled. 

   “Yeah, it’s a little tense though. But it’ll make you happy to know that he’s changing for the better.” It did make you happy. Bitterly so, though, because it took breaking your heart for a decade to teach him a lesson. 

   Then, later, you declined Jaemin’s date. He was bouncing his knee, timidly asking to take you out, and not as friends. You bit your lip, apologizing, you weren’t ready. He understood. He walked you home, and you gave him a smile in return. 

///

   Walking into your room, you sighed. You had spent little time in your room since your fight with Haechan, everything reminded you of him in here. Most of your time spent was in the living room, lounging on the couch, working on college applications at the dining table. 

   You glanced at the boxes in the corner of your room, they were begging you to hurry and pack up your things for college next week. You decided to listen to them and not procrastinate, picking a box up and opening your drawers, folding clothes neatly in the small space.

   Daylight was shifting into a golden spray, your room turning hues of orange and yellow. Suddenly, the barrenness of your room became apparent. The clutter was less now, and few things caught your eye.

   One of the things was the glass-framed milkweed flower crown hanging across from your bed. You sighed, it slipped your mind that milkweed was poisonous. 

   Your heart squeezed as you stood on your bed to take it down, holding it in your hands for a few seconds, admiring how the plant was still clinging onto green when it hadn’t touched water in years. Softly, you threw the flower on your bed. Taping up the last of the boxes you were taking with you, you picked up one last small box.

///

   “Tell me if you need anything, sweetie!” Your mom called out, she had always been jolly. Donghyuck loved your family. He loved how blissfully unaware they were of your and his relationship, or friendship, if you could call it that anymore. Donghyuck felt strange standing in your empty room. Apparently, you had left that morning for college, wanting to drive on your own. Your parents were going to meet you up there with the rest of your stuff. 

   Donghyuck had visited your house under the disguise that he had left something in your room that he was wanting to take to college with him. There wasn’t, he just wanted to see your room (and possibly, you) one last time before he left. Disappointment had flushed through him when he was told you were gone already, but there was also relief. What would he have said to you, anyway? Sorry? That was like putting a bandaid on a gaping wound. 

   It felt like it was missing something. He took notice of the missing frame that used to hang above your bed. He huffed, not focusing on the pinch his heart was experiencing. His gaze landed on a brown box that sat on your sheet-less bed. Curiosity got the best of him, and he made his way towards the middle of the room. His hand hesitated before taking the lid off the box.

   Donghyuck saw the hoodie he gave you that one day when you were eleven when you started to cry about him asking you to go home early because his friends were coming over. He had given you the hoodie to stop your loud ugly sobbing, and to keep the other boy’s attention from seeing the evidence of you and him making flower crowns. 

   Donghyuck saw the polaroid of you and him kissing during on that cold night that one day when you were sixteen. He could make out the smile behind the kiss and his red ears that blended into the monochromatic red and orange splotches, though it could've been easily mistaken for a drunken hue. 

   Donghyuck saw the glass frame with the flower crown he gave you that one day ten years ago. His heart tightened before bursting with emotions he didn’t know he had. Regret. Sorrow. Desperation.

   Finally, his gaze landed on an orange sticky note stuck to the very bottom of the box with messy words scribbled onto it that read, ‘golden hour doesn’t last forever.’ His tears fell onto the glass frame, the wetness slowly slipping off the edge of the clear crystal like honey and onto the dusty and scuffed wooden floors.

   ’Why am I crying?’ He thought. He fiddled with the glass frame one last time before rushing out the memory-filled house. Dashing back into his own abode, he ignored the corner of his yard that stared back at him like a bitter ex-lover. It was overgrown now, having not been touched for months. Green vines growing onto the white table you two used to sit at, the milkweeds prospering in the dingy corner that was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the grassy yard. 

   Oh Donghyuck, it’s because you loved her. 

///