#...is my tag for joke posts. my actual reaction to this was grimacing and then hitting reblog anyway

[the-kr8tor]

You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: You sleepover at Hobie's houseboat.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, FLUFF, smut implied.

My Masterlist

Inspired by this post

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Obsessing over the pimple on your forehead, you try to pop it in between your forefinger and thumb. 

"Ughh" you grimace while staring at your reflection on Hobie's grimey mirror. 

You glimpse at your form, you're wearing one of Hobie's numerous band shirts, after you accidentally spilled mouthwash on your pajama shirt, you asked to borrow one. You're giddy that you smell like him.

He joked that you spilled mouthwash on it on purpose just to wear his shirt. 

"Stop it, you're gonna make it worse" Hobie says as he watches the disaster in front of him. He's lounging on his bed, arms tucked under his head. His dark jumper rides up a bit showing his toned stomach. His legs are properly tucked under the patchwork comforter.

"But it's bothering meee" you kick your legs like your throwing a tantrum.

"It doesn't even look that bad," Hobie pats the open space beside him "come to bed, lovey" 

"Says the man who has clear skin even though you wash your face with the same soap you use on your body" You turn to face him, ignoring his exposed skin. 

You've never seen him this relaxed before. He's a pretty laid back guy already, but this? His half-lidded eyes looking at you, paired with him in his comfortable non-spiky clothes– maybe you should come to bed.

"It's genetics, all natural, baby" 

"It's actually au naturel" you cross your arms on your chest, hiding your uneven breathing.

"No, it's not" 

"Yes, it is" you step forward.

"Nuh uh" 

"Yea uh" 

You stare at each other for a second.

"...C'mere" Hobie concedes defeat or else you would be at it all night. He takes his left arm from under him to reach towards you. 

"Fine" you head towards the bed, your sea legs swaying when a small wave hits the houseboat. You crawl under the covers. 

"Why are you so far, get over 'ere" he grabs the cover under you to drag you towards him, closing the already small distance. He's been waiting for this the entire day. He feels elated, he couldn't wait to finally cuddle with you, 

You hoped he didn't notice the small distance you made, but alas he's a perceptive one who doesn't like admitting he likes cuddles. Truth be told, you're actually nervous spending the night with him for the first time, you're not expecting for something to happen tonight, but if something did happen you're prepared for it, kind of, sorta, maybe?

Not to mention, the houseboat is a little intimidating, like what if you get sea sick and puke all over his carpet, well you're floating on a river, but nonetheless the rocking motion could still give you motion sickness. Or what if you kick him off the bed while asleep, or you sleep walk and you fall overboard. Or what if–

Hobie pinches your nose, keeping his fingers around it. "Oi, where did you go?" 

"Nuhn of yhor bhismes" you swat at his hand. 

"Your eyes went glossy for a second, thought I lost you" 

"I was actually thinking about your houseboat" 

"And here I thought you were thinking 'bout me" he holds his arm out behind you, unsure if you're okay with the action. 

Noticing his uncertainty, you swallow your shyness, you lean against his arm placing your head softly on his shoulder. Any doubt from Hobie is quickly washed away by your reaction. He pushes you closer to his warmth with the hand around your shoulder.

"What about the houseboat?" He stares at you while you play with a loose thread on his jumper.

"Like.. how'd you get it?" You absentmindedly twirl the thread around your fingers.

"Bought it off a bloke"

"That's it? No crazy or wacky story behind it?" You stare up at him suspiciously.

"Yes, there's no wacky story behind it" he mocks your word choice by copying your voice. "I needed a place, my friend's cousin's friend sold it at a cheap price. That's it, nothing madcap 'bout it" 

"Hmm, Do you even know how to drive, wait no sail? Is it called sailing when it doesn't have sails? Nevermind you get what I'm talking about, do you know how to do that?" You ramble, he finds it adorable.

"Yes, how do you think I brought it here from Amsterdam?" He's now curious whether it's sail or drive.

You gasp, sitting up "See! There IS a wacky story behind it" you poke his chest playfully.

Hobie grabs your finger to stop you "There IS nothing wacky about it. Well-" he remembers something, you perk up "we had to dodge the coast guard, but that's about it" 

"THE COAST GUARD?!" A huge grin blooming on your face.

"All right calm your beans" Hobie pushes your head back down lightly.

"How long did it take you to get back?" You snuggle closer to him.

"It would've just taken us 6-7 hours, but we had to hide from the coast guard so it took us about 10 hours" 

"Who were you with?" You fight a yawn.

"Why? You jealous?" Hobie shakes you lightly, he wants to talk to you more.

"Why would I be jealous of your friend's cousin's friend?" You rub one of his unruly eyebrows, shaping the strands back into place.

Hobie chuckles. He wants to stay like this with you, sleep be damned.

"What do you want for breakfast?" A yawn escaping you. You situate yourself on his chest.

"You gonna cook for me?" Hobie holds on to you tighter.

"Hmm, if you're nice to me in the morning, yeah" 

"What do you mean? I'm always nice to you" 

"You say that as you're staring at my pimple" you start to close your eyes. 

"Well, gorgeous, I'm not staring directly at it, I'm looking at you, you wear my shirt really well" 

"Well, handsome," you tease him back "anything looks better when I wear it" you feel sleep taking you.

"You're right," Hobie whispers against your hair "I like my eggs sunny side up by the way" 

"Hmm" a soft smile on your face.

Since you're wearing socks, with a sly smirk on Hobie's face, he slowly lifts up the leg hem of your pajama pants with his cold foot, once there's enough space, he quickly lays his ice cold foot on your leg. 

"Ack! What- Hobie!" You shoot up from your position. 

Hobie laughs loudly, you feel the houseboat shake lightly.

You playfully slap his chest.

"You!" Slap "Menace!" Slap

In one swift movement, he grabs your slapping hand, then he flips himself over you, his legs on your sides, caging you in.

You gasp at the weight above you, a wide smile blooming on your face.

"Hobie! You're too heavy!" Drowsiness is now completely gone.

He half kneels on your sides so he doesn't completely crush you.

"You're not allowed to sleep" Hobie leans slightly towards you, you can see his playful smirk illuminated by the moonlight.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed?! You invited me to a SLEEPOVER, you dork!" You gasp out as he's a few inches away from your face.

"Lemme guess you're the kind of person who falls asleep first in a sleepover? you're the dork here, sweets" he leans closer his lips ghosting over yours. 

You close your eyes in anticipation. Instead of a kiss, you feel Hobie blow raspberries on your jaw.

"Ack! HAHAHAHAHAHA" your legs kicking up trying to stop him from tickling you.

Hobie pulls back breathlessly.

"Oh you're ticklish? Got it" he smirks devilishly. "Wonder where else you're ticklish?" Hobie tilts his head.

"No! Don't you dare, Hobart!" Your eyes widen when he winds up his arms to tickle your stomach, despite the threat you can't help but grin.

"Oh using my government name now, huh" Hobie tickles your sides relentlessly, your laughs echoing throughout the space. 

"Okay! Okay! I'll stay up!" You say in between laughs.

He finally stops his attack, letting you breathe. 

"Yeah?" He takes his tickling stance again.

"Yes" you giggle "please stop or I might piss my pants" 

"Ooh kinky" he squeezes your cheeks together as you glare at him. 

"Can you please kiss me already so we can properly cuddle like you wanted" you say with your squished lips.

Hobie chuckles "saw right through me, huh" he leans down finally giving your most awaited kiss.

He eases up from squishing your cheeks so you could kiss him back properly, you hold on to the back of his neck, grounding you. 

Hobie pulls away, he stares at your wide eyes lovingly. You lift yourself up using his neck as leverage, quickly peppering his face with kisses, until he laughs with every peck.

You pull back, taking in his lovesick stricken face, his smile lopsided, eyes basically shaped like hearts. You're sure you mirror his expression. 

"I should invite you more often" he lays back down next to you, arm wrapped around your torso, half of his body staying on top of you, his legs splayed over yours. Hobie relaxes immediately.

You crane your neck "yeah you should. I really love your home, babe" you rub his arm soothingly.

"Really? You're not sea sick?" 

"I gotta be honest with you, I took a kwells tablet beforehand," you laugh.

"That's pretty smart" Hobie fights a yawn "you're really smart, love" he rubs the side of your neck.

"You're only saying that so I'll make you breakfast" you whisper, once you notice his eyes slowly close. 

"No, you're really smart, and lovely, and a bloody good cook" he parks his head on the crook of your neck with a sigh.

You chuckle softly, pulling the covers up to his chin, you lay your head just above his. 

You both fall asleep listening to each other's steady breathing with the houseboat rocking you both rhythmically.

A/n: I'm sorry that my last fic made y'all cry lmao, here's some fluff. As always thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[hongnanglen-arina]

The Ulzzang Project - Part 1 | Jeon Wonwoo

Read part 2  

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

Genre: Fluff, crack (maybe explicit content in the next chapters)

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Hello there! Here’s part 1 of my mini series of you and Wonwoo, the next ulzzang stars hahaha :3 I’d be happy to know your thoughts about it. I’m already working on part 2. I might spice it up in the upcoming chapters. If you don’t like that, scream at me and I will stop hehet. So, have fun! And as always, please remember that English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

You sat in Wonwoo’s apartment. It was one of those Saturday nights where you two would order greasy food, have competitive game sessions and cuddle together on his couch or in his huge bed. You’ve known each other ever since your mothers went to driving school together. Both got married to their significant other and soon you two were born, making them joke that you two should end up together when you get older. That didn’t happen obviously. Instead you grew up like siblings, spending nearly all of your free time together, fighting over stupid little things but always making up quickly after. Even studying together, entering the same university and sharing the same group of friends. You two were kind of inseparable. 

“Wait, why is the bucket of fried chicken already empty???” You shot a shocked look at the boy beside you who wasn’t paying attention to you but bobbed his head to the music of the band in the youtube video which was playing on his tv screen, licking his fingers clean to get another slice of pizza. Before taking a bite, he gave you a rather emotionless answer, his face dead ass serious. “Dunno. Maybe we ate it?”

You scoffed at his words. Oh Jeon Wonwoo.

More laughing, more jamming to music and more teasing until you were full, halfway lying on the floor while you talked about the new annoying professor at uni that scolded Dokyeom on his very first day and was on bad terms with him from that day on. 

After a while you cleaned up and started to play Dead or Alive to ‘relieve some stress’. You two had mastered this game for years now, resulting in you and Wonwoo winning and loosing the same amount of times. While you stick to one character, he switched to different ones but even though you two were always close, you would never grow tired of this game and those competitions with him. 

When he left for using the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through Instagram, stopping at a specific post of a couple who uploaded a suggestive photo of them without revealing much of their person. You cocked your head to the side and Wonwoo noticed it when he came back. “What are you looking at, y/n?” He sat down beside you and you showed him your phone. “Look, they aren’t doing much and the photo has quite a bad quality - maybe on purpose - but it is still good that I understand why people push the like button. Effortless aesthetic.” 

Wonwoo made an annoyed grimace at your words and you raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Anyone can do that.” “Why do you think that?” Your best friend thought for a moment and pulled out his own phone, unlocking it and going through some apps until he held it in front of the two of you. Before you could ask what he was doing, he got closer to you and took a photo. You noticed that the room was silent. Only some faint noises from outside the window could be heard when he showed the photo to you. It was a photo of you two next to each other but other people wouldn’t recognize you two. The photo showed only your lips, chin, neck and a little bit of your shirt. You looked up at him and saw his grin. Wonwoo moved a little so that it seemed like he was going to kiss you. Slightly panicking, you automatically covered your face, asking him what the hell he was doing when you heard the shutter of his phone once again, signalizing that he took another photo.

The room was quiet when you removed your hands, a soft blush on your cheeks when he turned the screen, giving you a better look of the new photo. Wonwoo used a filter that gave your photo a nice vintage look. Blinking, you were kind of impressed. If you didn’t know better, you would say that it was a photo of a famous ulzzang couple from Instagram. Noticing Wonwoo’s pleased smirk, you hit his chest. “Yah, what was that all about, huh?? You can’t just-“ “I’m going to open a new account. I’m curious how many followers and likes we can get in a month.” 

You had a hard time to follow, squinting your eyes and opening your mouth like a fish without saying anything. He tapped on his phone happily, completely ignoring your confused state. “W-wait, what did you say? What do you mean? A new account? Followers? What?” You tried to have a better look on his screen but he turned around, chuckling a little so that his round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose a bit in the process. “Jeon Wonwoo! Answer!” 

Fighting you off his shoulders, he took his sweet time to do whatever he was doing on his phone and you whined, asking for answers but not getting one at all. Sighing, you gave up after a while, giving his broad back a death glare as you turned around and took your own phone, opening the previous app and pouting while scrolling through the already seen posts. You were facing the other direction, sitting back against back. Hearing Wonwoo chuckle from time to time or giving a thinking noise, he always got your attention but since he never explained what he was doing, you took some selfies, sticking out your tongue and pointing at the boy behind you. After editing it a little more, you uploaded it on your Instagram site with the single word ‘idiot’ and tagged him. Giggling to yourself, you didn’t notice the shuffling noises and the warmth behind you disappearing when Wonwoo literally shoved his phone in your face. Your groan got stuck in your throat when you finally got your answer.

Taking his phone out of his hand, you took a better look. It was a seemingly new Instagram account with one content, zero followers and zero following. Your eyes widen when you click on the only photo in this account. It was you two. The photo from before. You were covering your face while the photo was cut, only showing Wonwoo’s grin against your hands. Your eyes travel lower, silently reading through the hashtags he had added. #cutecouple #shy #ulzzangcouple #saturdaynight and 18 more. It didn’t take long until the first stranger liked your photo and you blinked in disbelief. That’s when you noticed the user icon. It was the sunflower you got Wonwoo when he moved into his apartment. The very first day. You remembered the moment when he stopped you in his door and took a photo of you. Although he cut it, you could still see your hands holding the flowers plus a part of your white dress from that day.

Another notification. Another 3 likes. You turned to Wonwoo, who was awaiting your opinion. Pointing at his phone and the still open app, you asked “Are you serious?” “Totally.” His short remark wasn’t convincing enough and the way Wonwoo continued talking showed you that he understood. “It’s like a little experiment. We take some photos together, upload it and wait. As I said, I’m curious how famous our little site can become. We can delete and close it after a month if you want.”

He watched your face patiently until you met his gaze. “Okay. Fine for me. But I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are we going to upload cute photos only or.. uhm… other photos also?”

“What do you mean with other photos?”

Oh Jeon Wonwoo don’t play dumb, you thought to yourself but lifted your arm, pulling your collar down a bit to reveal more of your neck and collarbone. “This.”

“Sexy?” Wonwoo smirked at you and you rolled your eyes, giving him a hard push so that he rolled onto his back, laughing at your reaction. 

You pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest in an attempt to distract yourself from the blush on your face. You have seen it often enough. Accounts like that. And you would lie if you say you didn’t like them. Many of them showed their strongly edited faces but some didn’t show their faces at all and you guessed your site would be like the latter. If you are going to include more revealing or suggestive photos, you would care less if no one could see who it actually was. 

That’s how you agreed.

The whole night the two of you brainstormed. You collected ideas for your next photos and had lots of fun with it. Even lying in his bed together, giggling about the most common couple poses and making gagging noises when looking them up. At around 3 am you yawned and Wonwoo put his phone and glasses on the little night stand, opening his arms for you to crawl in as you always did. You just loved to sleep in his arms. It was some kind of habit since you were little. You loved his scent and his warmth and sometimes you even found yourself at your own home unable to fall asleep because he wasn’t there. 

The warm and bright sun woke Wonwoo up. He wanted to turn around and get some more sleep but decided to open one eye instead, noticing that you weren’t there anymore. So he stretched his limbs in all directions and put on his glasses. After grabbing his phone and getting out of bed, he waddled to the living room and found you in the small kitchen corner, humming a song he knew while preparing breakfast - or according to the time on the clock, lunch.

He was about to join you when he stopped in his tracks and unlocked his phone, quickly taking a photo before putting it away again. 

“What is my baby making?”

Facing him, you shot him your infamous death glare. “Baby? Really?”

Wonwoo laughed at your unamused voice and joined you, stopping right behind your small form and looking over your shoulder. “Do you know how I like my omelette?” Snorting loudly, you threatened him with your balled first that he quickly ran to the dining table and took his seat. Like the good and obedient boy that he could be. Sometimes. 

He was silent while you added your finishing touches to the late breakfast but when you started to set everything on the table Wonwoo was waiting at, he took another photo, a smile plastered on his face. "What did I do to deserve you, hm?"

You were about to take the first bite of omelette when you stopped in your tracks, fork just inches away from your lips. "Okay, what's going on, Wonwoo? You are super strange today?"

"Is that a surprise to you?"

"Not really... but today you're super super strange so tell me."

He grinned at you and took a sip of the orange juice. "I'm just happy to be with my baby, that's it."

"There!" You pointed at him with your fork. "What is that all about, huh? Since when am I your baby?? Did I miss out on something last night or what??"

The dark haired boy in front of you chuckled as you tried to squeeze an answer out of him, with no success. Slowly worry crept up your spine. "Wait.. I didn't do anything to you, right? Or, I didn't say anything uh... strange, right? I know we had alcohol but... Wonwoo, tell me." 

You saw him wiggle with his eye brow at you. "What do you wish did happen between us?"

"Yah! Jeon Wonwoo, I- .... I saw you naked more than one hundred times! I know all your secrets! I know you better than you know yourself! I.... I am just not your baby!"

He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest while watching you pout. "Chill. I'm just trying to get into the mood."

"For what?"

"For sexy photos."

"For what?!"

"For s-"

"I heard you!!"

"Then why are you asking?"

The piece of omelette had fallen down from your fork a long time ago and you weren't sure what was more important in this very moment. The only thing that you were sure about was the fact that your cheeks were burning like fire. "I... why the heck do you want sexy photos?!"

"You wanted sexy photos for our experiment and here I am. The bestest friend that has ever existed is willing to take some with you. Shouldn't you feel all giddy or so?"

"Says who?" You mirrored him, crossing your arms as well, trying to remember your exact words from the day before. You thought you did ask about more revealing photos but it was just a question about the content of your shared Instagram, your little experiment or how Wonwoo had called it. You just wanted to be sure. Never have you imagined to take some with him a day later, today.

"Forget it. I'm not going to do that."

"Now I'm sad."

Snorting, you rolled your eyes, sure he said it only to sound funny. 

—

You sat with your friends from uni, poking your lunch with your chopsticks in such boredom that you were more than sure nothing could grab your attention nor lighten up the mood. But you were wrong. Seungkwan hit your shoulder and you were ready to start a fight when he showed you his cellphone screen. "Y/n, what do you think? Yesterday I started a couple Instagram with my girlfriend. It was something I've been thinking about for a while but yeah. How do you find our first post? Pretty nice, huh? We already got 217 likes!"

One chopstick fell out of your hand in surprise but you quickly nodded at your friend. Your own site was a secret. There was no way you would ever tell your friends about it especially if - one day - you would really post less child friendly content. No way. Also, where was Wonwoo?

"W-wow, 217 likes after a day is pretty impressive!"

"To be exact, it's been 20 hours and..... 32 minutes."

"Whatever."

When Seungkwan turned around to the other friends to show them his site, you secretly opened your own with Wonwoo, scrolling through the amount of likes you got until now. That's when you saw the 2 new posts. A photo of you standing in front of the stove, dressed in an oversized white shirt from Wonwoo, bare legs and one from when you set down the food in front of him. Both photos from that morning. Your own face couldn't be seen but they were edited similar like the first post. 

Your eyes flew over the texts Wonwoo had added to each of them.

G'morning baby.

My baby is the best.

Looking around, you quickly made sure that your friends didn't notice what you were doing and you tried to get rid of the warm layer that was covering your cheeks. He wrote baby.

Then you remembered the real reason you opened the app. You wanted to see how many likes you got until now. The newest of the food had 7. The one of you cooking breakfast had 38. And the first one from last saturday had 305 likes. Although you had more than your friend, you wanted the gap to be bigger.

Without noticing, your competitive personality came out. You didn't want to lose to Seungkwan and his girlfriend. Opening Kakao Talk, you wrote Wonwoo a message with a lot of cute shouting emoticons you once bought.

[Y/n] We need more photos - today. I'll be at your place at 7. It's urgent.

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

This gif is literally Wonwoo right before he came up with his genius idea lol

[capricornus-rex]

Hey! Idk if you do these type of requests but I was wondering if you could a Cal Kestis imagine based on the song "Say Love" by James TW? Where Cal is ready to say "I love you" but the reader is a but hesitant because of how messed up things are with the empire and her past. If not that's okay!thank you first taking the time to read this!❤❤

“Say Love” | Cal Kestis x Reader

To Anon: Hi Anon! I’ve been listening to that song whenever I write and it’s one of the fluffiest things I’ve ever heard!! Oh and btw, reeeaaaallly sorry if I kept you waiting for a long while since I had a lot in my WIP fic list 😭 But I hope you still enjoy this fic!

Additional tags: Song Prompt, Love Confession! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Masterlist

The liberating of the Wookiees was a victory indeed. It may be miniscule to the Empire, but to the partisans, it was a giant leap of faith.

You and Cal joined the partisans in retreating back to the landing pad, some of them have personally invited the two of you to come drink with them. It’s a tad bit early to celebrate, but it’s good of a reason to celebrate either way.

“Come on, we’ve ransacked their rations in the southern trench!” a partisan urged.

“Is it true that Imperial ration packs have liquor in them?” you inquired.

“That’s what we’re gonna find out! Come on!”

Like children in a schoolyard, the lot of you climbed over the wrecked walker and found an outpost on the ground. The blast door entrance had been damaged but your companions assured you that the goods are still intact.

“What do we got?”

“Usual foodstuffs, purified drinking water… Aha! I got a bottle of Dust Juice here!”

“Holy hell, they got Corellian alcohol here too!”

The soldiers murmured amongst one another, apparently discovering that each crate of rations had a different kind of alcohol stored in them—but by the bottle, perhaps meant for sharing. They gathered all bottles of alcohol on one side and then the foods in another. Each partisan carried a single bottle and whatever rations they can carry; you and Cal did the same.

You and your newfound comrades camped by the wrecked AT-AT, away from the eyes of the sterner adults who wouldn’t want anyone seen horsing around with the Imperial rations. All eight of you gathered around a power lamp that paled in comparison to an actual bonfire, thankfully enough, the weather in Kashyyyk isn’t too cold. Cal even borrowed Cere’s hallikset for this one occasion.

“Okay, okay, let’s just go with the classic game!” the same male partisan from earlier hollered, but was consequentially shushed by his more sober mates.

With an empty bottle of what was once Dust Juice, a single flick of his hand made the bottle spin. Everyone was either anxious or eager to know where the tip of the bottle will point to; they all leaned closer, nearly touching heads with one another. Eventually, you and Cal accidently bumped temples with one another and an awkward chuckle between the two of you followed.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled.

“Nah, I’m fine. I mean, I got a thick skull,” you awkwardly joked.

The bottle pointed at one of the partisans, prompting them to close their eyes and reach out for one of the drinks that they mixed together—it was the dare of the game. All of you watched the poor, marked partisan hold out his hand towards the row of glasses, take one and then chug. Awaiting his reaction, his grimace made everyone laughed—apparently, it was a bad mix of Meiloorun juice and then Corellian brandy.

The game went on for a few minutes until an older partisan from the landing pad had spotted them, scolding them—except for you and Cal—and made them go to bed like children hanging out past their bedtime.

“Some celebration, huh?” you joked.

You leaned against the foot of the walker, resting your back and tilting your head to look at the stars. Cal fixed his gentle gaze on you while you’re too busy counting and tracing the constellations in the night sky. Every time he looked at you, he’s reminded of the one thought that has been troubling his mind ever since.

He has the words prepared, but they always go back right into nowhere when he parts his lips. When you ask him if there was something bothering him, he just ends up making up an excuse to lure himself away from what’s really in his mind. Of course, you’re too smart for that—he knows it perfectly well.

To shake away the thought, he distracted himself with a song he’s making up right from the top of his mind with the instrument, while sitting next to you. Light strumming twanged and chimed across the forest floor, you continue to gawk at the white dots riddling the dark blue sky; little did Cal knew that his thoughts were the verses to his wordless song.

“I wonder what you’re thinking right now,” you mutter out of the blue, practically startling Cal. “The same way you wonder what I’m thinking now.”

“Sorry, I thought I got a hold of my thoughts for a second there,”

“Oh, but you do,” you lowered your head to face Cal. A little chuckle escaped you. “It’s just that there’s this one thought that slipped.”

Even in the night, the vibrant red flushed across his face. You found it endearing to see his freckled cheeks burn a bright pink hue. Cal knew that you got him backed to a corner and there was no excuse to save him this time.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking…”

You bobbed your head slowly, mirroring how low he’s hung his head while waiting for him to continue.

“You and I have been going around together in a while and I guess it just happened to me naturally,”

“What did?” you pressed.

“I can’t explain it, [y/n], but I know I can’t deny it,”

For once, your eyes have truly met—not just with subtle glances or quick glimpses, but genuinely looking into one’s eyes and from there. From that exchange, Cal felt his chest become light, as if an AT-AT has taken one of its feet off of him; but after one weight has been removed, another replaces it—your would-be reaction.

Your breath shuddered and your palms got clammy all of a sudden. You fiddled your fingers, hoping that your circulation hasn’t halted for reasons unknown.

Not planning to keep Cal waiting, you take a deep breath.

“Cal,” you awkwardly chuckled. “I’m not that dense. You probably have sensed I was feeling the same thing for you too, but…”

Cal’s eyes lit up and then softened as fleetingly as a shooting star comes and goes, eager for you to finish.

You sighed, averted your gaze back to the stars.

“Everything’s just a mess right now—with the Empire and all our little endeavor with Cordova’s holocron—I’m just afraid that if I ever give myself to connect with someone, the consequence of loss will always scare me. I wouldn’t even dream of losing you. I don’t wanna end up going back to the time I was alone, y’know? I guess that’s what the Jedi was trying to warn us about: attachment leading to fear, aside from that stoicism stuff.”

Your heart felt heavy, knowing that as much as you feel the same way towards Cal, the pressure and risks that came along with it frightened you. Not once did you ever doubt Cal, but with the Inquisitors constantly chasing you, how long until he’ll be caught in their net? You’ve been used to being alone and afraid of it at the same time, that you end up thinking of one too many outcomes of every situation that sits in front of you.

You awkwardly tried to dismiss yourself out of this situation. It was too emotionally exhausting for you to handle, even if you’ve already said your piece with Cal and have said every point in your mind. You bring yourself up, attempting to slowly walk out of this predicament while hoping that he doesn’t misinterpret your answer.

“You won’t lose me. I won’t leave you alone at all,”

That promise stopped you in your tracks, slightly glancing over his shoulder—hoping that he’d repeat what he said even if you heard it loud and clear—and watch him fiddling with the hallikset.

Cal felt like a door had been left open for him, but no one to greet him. He didn’t know what to feel with your reply. It wasn’t a “no” after all.

Oh, what the hell, [y/n]?

“Oh and by the way,”

Cal had little to no reaction time when you sat yourself next to him and cupped his cheek gingerly.

Your first kiss.

It was so sudden for him that his heart almost exploded through his ribs. He had his eyes open when you locked your lips with his, and when he realized what was happening, he kissed you back—savoring the lusciousness of your lips with hints of tonight’s liquor. He even dared to dip his tongue into your mouth, a mischievous curl appeared at the corner of your mouth.

Finally withdrawing, you kept his cheek nestled under your fingertips, “Just so you won’t misinterpret what I said seconds ago.”

You left for real this time, leaving him flabbergasted in the best way possible. One quick look behind your shoulder and your eyes bade him “good night” as you walked back to the Mantis. He chuckled to himself, unable to firmly plant his fingertips against the frets of the hallikset and strum a single note. His free hand softly ran across his bottom lip, hoping to find more of the taste that your lips left in his mouth.

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {7}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 6. Most Memorable

A/N:

Chapter 6  ⇑ ⇑ ⇑ didn’t really show up in the tags cause of the links, so I suggest you go read that first if you haven’t yet, because chapter 6-8 are all direct continuations and you don’t wanna miss out on the Helsa goodness.

7. Consequential Confidante

Hans was right, she had to stop blaming herself for everything, sometimes bad things just happen.

Correct the past in the present, not in the past we can't access. Those words stuck out to Elsa, they were a wise way of thinking about life. Focus on changing what can still be changed. She aspired to start taking those words to heart herself.

Elsa felt the shift in his hand holding hers, getting lost in her thoughts had almost made her forget she was holding it. She briefly glanced down at their hands before giving another firm squeeze.

She met his gaze accompanied by a reassuring smile. " Yes, you are doing a pretty good job correcting," she assured with a slight nod of her head.

Hans looked relieved, but he still couldn't ask for forgiveness, feeling he had not yet earned it. He just held her hand in supportive and appreciative silence for a moment.

"I just wish advice was as easy to take as it is to give. Perhaps if I listened to it, I could have avoided a lot of problems in life. But then, life wouldn't have led me here, I suppose. Perhaps it was worth it."

It was strange that he could say that, with the skin nearly flayed from his back and turned into ropy scar tissue, bandages still covering his torso, a criminal in a foreign country.

But, from his perspective: He was an undeserving wretch holding the hand of the Ice Queen of Arendelle, who could have killed him as easily as looked at him. He had survived what he was not meant to survive on multiple occasions, and now he was in a spare room of a castle, holding the Queen's hand as if they were friends, or perhaps something else.

Not to say he could do that without guilt. No, he felt the guilt every day, each as strong as the last. But she didn't need to know that. She didn't need to know how he would have sooner hanged than hear what Anna thought of him to his face, or how he thought every day about how things could or should have been different.

Perhaps it was implied in what he said: He was very bad at following his own advice.

"Life doesn't always give you want, I know that for certain, but if you're lucky it gives you what you need."

Elsa had once believed she was bound to continue living as a recluse in her own castle. The gates would be forever closed  after the coronation and everything would return to ‘normal’, because some things never change. Yet, life had a different plan.

Hans, his proposal and Anna's persistence had unknowingly become the catalyst that incidentally revealed Elsa's secret, which in turn started a chain reaction. Unfortunately the end results were Hans' treason.

Even though Elsa would never really remember all that transpired during the coronation incident fondly, she was still grateful of the doors it opened just for happening. She reconnected with her sister, finally let go, and found her freedom. It had also made other things possible that might not have happened otherwise, like Anna meeting Kristoff, the creation of Olaf, and finally; reopening the gates of Arendelle.

But just because things with Hans ended tragically during the coronation, didn’t mean they would have been better off without him, because if it weren't for him helping set off the reaction, some things might have never changed.

Elsa believed some things happened for a reason. Did she believe in destiny? Not exactly. She didn't see fate as something set in stone, but more like something that gave you opportunities, and how you use them is up to you.

"Very true." He agreed softly. He watched her as she got lost in thought, and he felt something. He wasn't sure what. Some degree of peace? Loyalty? Admiration seemed closest at the moment. He admired her beauty and her strength, her softness and her wisdom. Wisdom didn't always mean knowing everything, but accepting knowledge when it came.

"Shall I tell another story? Or have you other questions for me, Your Majesty?" He asked after a long moment, both seemingly lost in their own separate thoughts.

His questions brought her out of her thoughts. Listening to another story would be nice, she really enjoyed those a lot. Yet, there were still many unanswered questions.

There was a knotty question in particular that was eating away at her, it was probably best not to ask, for she may regret asking it for she not might like the answer, yet curiosity seemed to get the best of her.

So, against her better judgement, she dared to ask anyway.

" So, what did you really think of Anna?"

Hans thought about his response a bit.

"She's a sweet girl, a little naive, but that's not her fault. She's cute and endearing, and she needs someone who can listen to her and make sure she feels listened to. She's determined, too-- and has a right hook that could compete with my brothers." He laughed and touched his jaw, remembering that punch.

"She punched me off the boat." He laughed a little at that memory. "She's determined and wants to be taken seriously, she's impatient and excitable. If she weren't a princess I would advise she go spend some time exploring. If she got a little training and world-wise, she would be a fine pirate, I would wager." That was as much a joke as anything.

"Or are you asking my feelings for her? I consider her a good princess, and someone I wish I hadn't had to disappoint so thoroughly. I'd sooner she never see me again, if at all humanly possible."

His insight on her sister was reassuring, she was pleased that he spoke highly of her.

She wasn't exactly sure what she had been inquiring about herself, his real thoughts, feelings or maybe she just wanted to find an opening to tell him Anna was all right, after everything that happened.

" Anna was lucky to have found Kristoff then, he's a great listener."  She smiled thinking of the gentle mountain man and how much he loved her sister.

" She truly is a free spirit, and had she been a pirate she would surely have wrought some havoc," she lightly laughed.

Elsa paused and her face began to grimace.

"I wish not to disappoint her myself... I forbade her from going to see you in the dungeon afraid of what she might do..." she was worried about Anna's well-being as well as Hans' come they cross paths." I have yet to inform her you are no longer there...and I'm afraid of upsetting her."

Hans listened, and smiled a bit. "Kristoff... the big mountain man, I assume? He seemed honest. Don't think I heard two words from him, but that's the impression I got." He shrugged.

"Thank you for that. It's not the violence I fear, anything she can do to me I'll bear without a word, but it's the disappointment and anger that hurts. I don't get to feel bad about it, though. I did this to myself. Maybe I was wrong, maybe everything would have turned out fine without my being a villain, I can't know. But it was so much easier to be a villain at the time and let her be angry with me, than for 'true love's kiss' not to work and for her to be disappointed in me, or worse, herself. Maybe that makes me a coward. It wouldn't be the first time I took the coward's route." He looked down at his hands, pulling his from hers to fold them in his lap. No, He didn't feel he deserved forgiveness of any stripe.

Elsa nodded to confirm his inquiry about Kristoff.

Elsa had once again forgotten their hands were intertwined until he retracted his hand from hers, letting the warmth that once surrounded it dissipate.

She drew back her hand balling it up against her chest. Elsa pursed her lips and they both sat silently for a moment.

She took in a breath as she opened her mouth to speak.

" Anna's frozen heart will always be my fault." Even if it was by accident, and Anna had easily forgiven her, she couldn't yet forgive herself, it was a guilt that continued to consume her, she had almost killed her sister, yet again.

" I'm sorry you felt caught between a rock and a hard place, and thought you were forced to choose the lesser of two evils," she apologized, for the circumstances. " Don't get me wrong, I don't condone your actions, but I do understand them."

"But, I don't believe a 'true love's kiss' would have saved Anna regardless if you actually loved her, I don't think true love works like that," she rationalized. "I don't know much about love myself, but I believe true love is unconditional and requires time. It isn't something that just happens between two strangers overnight, like in fairy tales, I’m afraid that’s just misinterpreting infatuation, and not actually true love." She briefly paused. She would have mentioned the only unconditional love she happening overnight would be parental love, that love between parents and their newborn child, but refrained herself from doing so, realizing that not everyone is lucky enough to have parents that felt that way.

"I believe what really ended up saving Anna was...her own selflessness." Elsa's voice grew softer. "She gave up her chance of saving herself...in order to save... me." There was a slight trembling in her tone. "Her sacrifice was the act of true love... she saved herself by saving me..." She paused as she tried to gulp down the lump that had grown in her throat. Talking about Anna's Frozen Heart on the fjord was hard on Elsa, she was getting teary-eyed. She took a deep breath,to keep herself from crying. "I love Anna with all my heart...but I feel my love is selfish compared to hers," Elsa thought of how Anna had never given up on her, even after the countless times Elsa had pushed her out and shut the door in her face. Elsa didn't think she was strong enough to endure that same pain Anna had without giving up hope.

" I can't think of any other way...we would all be here today...had you...had things not..." She clenched her fist tighter and inhaled again.

" We can never know for sure...how things would have played out differently. But, like you yourself said in the throne room, and I also believe, it was a rather-- miraculous outcome, to say the least."

"If you think yourself a coward, that makes me one as well. Had I stayed rather than run away, everything could have been prevented."

She spiraled into blaming herself for everything again, it was a habit that was hard to break.

Elsa hadn't noticed she had chilled the room as she spoke.

Hans watched her devolve into self-hate and near tears with a look of sympathy. She was clearly so deeply upset-- and in front of a prisoner.

No, he couldn't still be a prisoner. Prisoners did not see the Queen cry. Whatever he was, things had changed. He wasn't sure why. His focus was elsewhere.

He took her cold hands in his and knelt in front of her on the floor, to warm her.

"Hey, hush now." He cooed softly, familiar words from long ago, ones she wouldn't know the way he did. He reached up to pet her hair.

"Stop this thought, you're killing yourself slowly, and one day you'll think like this and make the last decision you'll ever make, forgetting all the people around you who would never be the same. Your sister, your servants, your people, your guards, Kristoff, your snow-creations, myself. There must be a hundred names you know, faces you remember, people who would shed a thousand tears if they knew what pains drove you here. Don't make my mistakes. I made that decision once, someone else stopped me, and I saw the cost of thinking this way for everyone else.  Stop feeding your hate, even if it's hate for yourself, even if it's disguised as sorrow. You have made mistakes, had accidents, but you were never a treasoner. You never raised a sword to another intending to kill. You are a wondrous person and if you keep thinking the way you are, I fear we all may one day find that wondrous person missing from our lives forever. I know too many who would never bear that thought."

He spoke quietly, almost in a rush, but always with genuine-seeming care and concern, her hands clasped in his, on one knee on the cold stone without sign of discomfort, looking up at her.

He was alluding to some uncomfortable things. Whether she understood them, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Elsa's hands tightly clasped to his with a slight tremble. She looked down at him with her blue eyes welled up with tears.

The return of his warmth was comforting. His cooing and tender touches had momentarily soothed her. She'd continued to fight back the tears, but to no avail, his words failed to console her heavy heart and she began to weep.

Elsa understood what he was implying, and recognized what decision he had intended to take, before being stopped by someone. The easy way out, the thought that briefly crossed her own mind up at the North Mountain, of the world better off without her. It hurt her heart to hear, he had impelled to take such an action. She wondered what had provoked him to do so, and dreaded to think it might have been his remorse.

"I-I would never...I love...Anna... Arendelle... too much to ever... make them suffer because of me again." She murmured, with a sniffle.

Her whole body began to quiver.

"But I can't help, but feel guilty... the mistakes I made shouldn't be brushed off as if they were nothing or pretend they never happened... just because I am Queen... they were fatal mistakes...I may not be deemed a treasoner...but...people almost lost their lives...one of being...my own sister and all because of...me.

"...And yet Anna keeps telling me... 'It's alright'...because I didn't mean to..but is it really all right?..Does my intention really matter?..A life lost is a lost life... and it would have been...blood on my hands... no matter what.

"I know... love is the key...to my ability...but deep down... I'm still afraid... if I... if I...accidentally lose control again...I could actually end up...killing someone...with-without a second thought."

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She was letting out the hidden darkness that kept eating away at her heart, thoughts that often kept her up at night, to a man that almost killed her himself, nonetheless. Why? Why did she feel compelled to pour her heart out this man? Why not confide in Anna? Her sweet sister who deeply loved her. Or maybe Kristoff? Who was wise and always willing to listen. Why did it have to be him? Why Hans?..Why?

Maybe, because out of everyone, he was the only one that could truly understand her.

Hans was surprised she would weep in front of him. It was heartbreaking, truly. But, he could see something had shifted between them. He was something more than a prisoner, though still something less than a person. Still, so were the fey, and they seemed to have sway here.

"Hey, shh, shh, it's alright." He cooed, dimly remembering the same gentleness from his father, as he reached up to brush away her tears with warm hands.

"You're trapped in an awful paradox. To be responsible you have fears, but every fear makes your powers tremble to fix it like a dog after a stick. What can you do? Stop viewing this as fear, that's the dark side, that part that blocks out the sun and gives the ice room to grow. It's your love of others that recedes the shadows and melts the ice. It's the love of your sister, your people, your kingdom that makes you so concerned for them. There will not be blood on your hands, you are too kind, for your ice to let anyone truly die. I have seen that for myself." She, he had heard, was in the room while the doctor fixed his back. She had seen the damage and the scars, infections and blood. She stood by and assisted through it all. That was not the work of a killer.

"Sit with me, you should have a shoulder to cry on, and for all my injury, my shoulders are fine." He joked a little, to encourage her to move to sit on his bed with him, that he could hold her and let her cry.

Was it proper, for a queen and her prisoner? No. None of it was. But he recognized that something was different.

'They'll never see me cry!'

Elsa had once told herself. And yet look at her now, sitting here sobbing like a child. She'd failed to conceal and not feel yet again.

Was it improper for a queen to let herself cave in and weep ( especially in front of a man she'd ruled her prisoner)? By all means, yes. Ill-advised? Most certainly. Starting to lament it? Without a doubt. But, had it been a mistake? That was something that was yet to be determined.

She nodded at his offer, shifting her body to sit next to his (once he sat), with little to no reluctance. She was already weeping, it could be no worse to allow herself some solace.

Elsa slightly leaned her head upon his shoulder. One hand grasping at his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she muttered under her breath.

Hans pulled Elsa closer so she could rest against his chest. In truth, it was not his shoulder he felt she needed, but the rest of him. To be held and recognize another human being close to her, recognizing her pain.

"You never need to apologize to me. You did nothing to me that I didn't do to myself." He assured gently. It had been his choices, his responses that got him where he was. He stroked her hair and held her as if they had always been friends, or perhaps as something else.

"Cry all you like, I'll not tell a soul. Sometimes it's all we can do to stay sane. And when you're done, I'll make a fool of myself to brighten your spirits, make you laugh."

Even weeping, she was beautiful. It was a heart-rending scene, and in a way, he was glad he was a prisoner there. It was easier, he suspected, to give secrets to a man who could have none of his own. To someone who would speak to no-one. By rights, Arendelle, and Isles law, he was hers to command, and he had no problems with that. He wondered if she fully recognized that.

Elsa's body naturally tensed up at the shift, though she didn't not resist Hans pulling her closer. His embrace was warm, much like that of the blankets she would often nestle herself in, when she sought comfort from Anna and a cup of cocoa.

She did not try to force her tears to stop, fearing it might cause her to sob even harder than just allowing them to flow. Even if she hated feeling so vulnerable crying, it did seem to be easing her aching heart.

His gentle hair stroking was soothing. For the longest time she heard nothing but the sounds of her own whimpering. Her ear was pressed up against his chest, she tried to focus her attention on Hans' respiration, his breath was calm and steady compared to hers, she slowly tried to make hers replicate his. She closed her eyes and listened more attentively to hear his heart, it's beat soft and it's rhythm calming.

After staying like that for a while, her tears had stopped flowing and she felt she had calmed down significantly.

She slowly shifted, bringing up her hands pushing her palms against face brushing away the remnants of her tears. She looked up at Hans as she sat up.

"Thank you, " Elsa whispered, followed by a sniffle.

"Of course." Hans assured, watching her with softness in his eyes. "Did I tell you about the depth of symbolism, in a man of the Isles surrendering his sword? It is to a noble similar to giving up a crown. My loyalties are yours." Maybe he shouldn't have said it, but he thought that perhaps it might distract her from her woes. He reached up to help dry her eyes, affectionate and caring. He had some fondness for her, even if he really shouldn't have.

Elsa's heart skipped a beat and felt her face flushing. She wasn't sure if it was brought about by: the softness green eyes, the weight of his words or maybe their proximity was finally sinking in, all three together were a bit overwhelming.

"Uh-I wasn't aware of that." she said, shaking her head. "You only told me was that the surrender sword belonged to me now and you couldn't have another unless gifted back by Arendelle, I believe." Elsa tried her best to keep eye-contact but her blue eyes kept dancing back and forth trying to escape his gaze.

"Yes, it goes a little deeper than that. It's a willing lack of defense. What's more, Nobody held a knife to my throat or threatened my family. I came willingly and gave you my sword, my loyalties are yours and your command is mine to take. Even if I were to receive lands, unless a sword is gifted to me first, they would traditionally fall to you instead. Of course, whether or not that works in practice is another question, it's a medieval tradition in this modern age. But I like to hold to our sword traditions. A prisoner, of course, has no rights to weapons or lands to begin with. But I'd have given over my sword anyway. Else, why bother getting a facsimile made? It was only a symbolic fill-in, there's no purpose to that for a prisoner who didn't come willingly. Hm, all this to say, I can have my uses. If that use is to be a confidant, then that's my use. I certainly won't judge you for your tears, one of us should be able to have them." He reached up a hand to brush his thumb below her eye, as if to wipe away any remnants of tears she may have had. He did have some fondness for her. Maybe he shouldn't have, but he did.

Maybe in a way he always had.

Hans was supposed to be her prisoner, but he definitely wasn't one anymore, she didn't know what he was to her now, exactly. A friend perhaps? Not quite, but he most certainly seemed to have become an incidental confidant. She no longer saw him as a prisoner, that’s for sure, something prevented her from seeing him as such, his humanity perhaps or maybe something else. Whatever it was Elsa was just now starting realizing she might have gotten herself in too deep.

Hans' thumb brushing against her skin made her whole face tingle. Her face felt unbearably warm, either from the heat coming off his skin or from the flush growing warmer, most likely both. She didn't understand why a simple touch had made her reaction in such a way, when she had been far closer to him mere moments ago.

"Thank you," she replied to his words, not knowing how else to respond, being slightly flustered.

Hans hesitated a moment there, though to what end was anyone's guess.

"Cold will reduce the evidence of tears, I daresay you have that handled. I imagine you've been here a fraction too long for the guards' liking. Luckily, nobody asks us questions."

He drew back from her, distancing and giving her reasons and advice, as if he was something to hide, as well as her and her tears. In his life, tears were forbidden. He hadn't had them since his childhood, at least not that he would admit. It was much more becoming on women.

When Hans began retracting himself from Elsa (and even if her face was burning because of his proximity), there was a force within her wishing he wouldn't, like the resistance of pulling two magnets apart. She had grown accustomed to his warmness, in every sense of the word, and did not wish to lose it. He was absolutely right though. Elsa might overstayed her welcome, she had just broken down in tears in front of him after all, something that should absolutely not be happening, especially between a queen and her supposed prisoner. Even if she knew he was right, there was a part of her that didn't wish to leave yet.

"You're right, I really should go...but if I leave now, my breath might still give me away." Elsa stated. "Even with no questions asked they might still assume."

Though it was true that she still had a slight puffing to her breath that she could not yet control, it might have been more of Elsa giving herself an excuse to let herself stay, if only a tad bit longer.

Sure the guards could assume she'd been crying, but they could be assuming far worse then her shedding tears, yet that didn't really cross her mind.

Hans smiled a little in spite of himself.

"Her Majesty is right again." He admitted, amused.

"Shall I tell another amusing story then? Perhaps loudly so the guards might be entertained? We could make a game of it, see if we can make them laugh through the wall. I was never very good at Improvisation, but I might try nonetheless if it would make you laugh. Or worse, I'll try puns and jokes. I have a good many musical ones." He did like to play games and tell stories. Despite the sadness of his life, he enjoyed it when everyone was having a good time. That was the only time he liked to be noticed.

[winchester-with-wings]

Chemical Reactions (Part 23)

Series Summary: Being a teacher at Central City Academy doesn’t leave much time for a personal life. You didn’t really notice or care…that is until the day the new substitute science teacher, Barry Allen makes an appearance.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 23 Summary: The decision has been made. Time Jump...

Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader, Substitute Teacher!Barry Allen x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1500ish

A/N: Thank you to my amazing friend and beta @thinkwritexpress-official!! Hope ya’ll like it! I’m about to have a stressful day at work so please give me something to look forward to! :( *i don’t own gifs*

Please let me know what you guys think of the story! Send me asks!

Mobile Masterlist

This was posted a few days agao on my Patreon! Wanna get previews, early access and make requests? Become a Patron! Can’t become a patron? please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated!)

The school year at CCA had ended with the expectation that Barry would continue on as full-time faculty.

Your secret relationship had ended the day Dr. Stein demanded an answer.

Barry maintains that your eyes were red and puffy from crying that day in his office. You’d had a substitute teacher scheduled too.

At the end of the school year, Barry bid his students goodbye and well wishes for the summer, all except Patty. Barry had been tempted to flunk her out of resentment. That would’ve meant that she wouldn’t graduate though, so he gave her the grade she’d earned solely off her scores.

Barry had also attended the graduation ceremony but only to see his brother Wally walk and get his diploma. Standing in the crowd with Joe and Iris beside him, Barry couldn’t help but look for you as well. Iris found you and called you over. You’d politely declined.

That’s how Joe and Iris found out about the break-up.

And Barry hasn’t seen you since that day.

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

2 Months Later…

“Wally, have you finished packing?” Joe asks the recent graduate.

“I was actually thinking that maybe I could stay here while I go to school?”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to get off your butt,” Joe grumbles, playfully pushing on Wally’s head as he walks past. Wally is sitting sideways with his legs hanging over the armrest of Joe’s favorite chair in the living room.

“I’m keeping Barry company.”

The two men’s gazes drift across the room to rest on Barry, laying back on the couch in a hoodie while holding the remote in his hand. He barely registers the conversation, keeping his eyes on the TV, but is he even watching it? It’s Star Wars, but it’s the prequel trilogy, should he really be watching this? It doesn’t matter. On commercials, Barry flips between other channels but always comes back to Star Wars.

“Don’t enable him, Wally, and don’t use him as an excuse,” Iris scolds him, walking into the room and setting down her purse. She takes the remote from Barry’s hand and turns off the tv.

“...heyyy…” comes Barry’s delayed reaction. Iris hands the remote to Joe and then pushes back Barry’s hood to play with his hair. She kisses the top of his head but comes away frowning.

“Oh boy, you need to shower,” she tells him. Barry just grunts in response. Iris has seen Barry through past breakups but never like this. “Barr, I’m making your favorite meal tonight. The least you could do is smell better...and change out of those sweats. Now get going,” Iris pats him on the shoulder as he sits up, slumping forward. “And you,” she points at Wally. “I want you to go pack at least two boxes.”

“Dad, can’t I please stay here?” Wally looks up at Joe.

“We’ll talk about it,” Joe responds but his eyes don’t leave Barry. His heart breaks for his son, seeing him like this. Barry has heard him even say so in hushed whispers with Iris.

At dinner, Barry picks at the food, even though Joe did most of the cooking. Which is lucky. That means the food is actually really good. But Barry just can’t bring himself to eat.

“Have you given any thoughts to my offer, Barry?” Joe says.

“Hmm? What?” He looks up. Barry’s hair still looks a bit damp and he’s wearing a fresh t-shirt and jeans.

“I said, Captain Singh has been pleased with your work this summer. He and I thought you might like some more part-time work at the department?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea Dad!” Iris agrees. “It would keep you busy during the school breaks.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. It’s been good. I just need to think about it some more.”

“Okay, well don’t think too long. The summer is already half over,” Joe mumbles as he turns his focus back to his food.

“May I be excused?” Barry asks a few minutes later, his plate still plenty full. “Thank you for the meal but I’m just not feeling very good. Think I need to lie down for a bit.”

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll wrap this up for you if you want it later,” Iris says, rubbing Barry’s back before he gets up from the table. He goes back to the couch and lays down.

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

Eventually, the hunger pangs become too much. He attributes his headache to hunger too but he knows better. Barry reheats some of the food but it doesn’t hit the spot. It’s about 8 o’clock so he decides to go for a walk, maybe go to Jitters.

He finds himself walking in downtown Central City, listening to music with that same old hoodie on. Maybe he should go for a run to get his blood pumping, to lift his spirits. He starts with a gentle jog, focusing on the ground beneath his feet with every step, noticing the faint smell of rain in the air.

He jogs until the burning in his lungs is enough to distract him from the other pain in his chest. But he finally has to come to a stop to catch his breath. He’s resting his hands on his knees, breathing deeply. He takes out his headphones and pushes back the hood which has fallen over his brow. When he notices where he is--he winces--not because of where he is of course, no, it’s because of the running, right? It couldn’t possibly be that he’s inadvertently run into Y/N’s neighborhood, right? He was running for Jitters and that’s just a few blocks down. That’s all, right?

He heads in the direction of Jitters, trying his hardest to not look at your apartment building. Is the light on? He wouldn’t know. But he does know. He knows it’s not on. You’re not home.

Because you’re walking down the street right now. Arm in arm with another man.

Barry’s heart skips a beat and it stops him in his tracks. He shuffles his feet quickly with the intent to cross the street. But then you look up in the midst of laughing, and you stop.

It’s too late for Barry to walk, or rather run away.

“Barry? Hey,” you smile, tender and perhaps a bit sad. Or maybe Barry is only imagining it. He looks up and notices that you’ve just exited a restaurant with this man. His knuckles are white and his face is burning with jealousy. “Looks like you’re out for a run? It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Barry finds his voice. “It’s uh--good to see you too. Oh and yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” The two of you know enough to guess why. “Figured a jog would help. Was just heading to Jitters. ”

“Oh, that’s nice. Not sure a coffee will help with the sleep problem though,” you giggle and Barry fights down a smile. Damn, he’s missed your laugh. He misses your smile and the way your eyes always betrayed your feelings. He misses the feel of your skin on his, the touch of your hand on his face. He looks you up and down, drinking in your figure. You’re wearing a new dress. He’d never seen you wear it before. What was the occasion? “Oh, where are my manners? Barry, I’d like you to meet Julian Albert. Julian, this is Barry Allen. We work together at CCA.”

“I’m also her ex-boyfriend,” Barry wants to add but he doesn’t.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Allen,” he says with a british accent. He’s is shorter than Barry and has blonde hair and blue eyes. He extends his hand and Barry shakes it, perhaps a little stronger than necessary.

“Nice to meet you. You guys just have dinner?” Barry asks, playing nonchalant and gesturing to the restaurant.

“Yes, we did. It was marvelous. Have you been there?”

“No not yet. Always planned to take my girlfriend there though,” Barry says. Seeing the flutter of your lashes and the hurt in your eyes, it makes him feel a bit better. Are you in as much pain as him or have you truly moved on?

“Ah, well. We would highly recommend it, right Darling?” Julian looks at you. He’s oblivious to your hesitation but you nod eventually. “And you work with Y/N? What subject do you teach?”

“Chemistry and forensic science.”

“I teach the kids while Barry teaches teenagers.” like Patty, Barry assumes your implication.

“Oh wow, fascinating. I’ve dabbled with crime scene investigation before as well.”

“Julian’s an archaeologist,” you add. Barry feigns interest, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh wow! That’s gotta be fun, playing in the dirt, right?”

“That’s an oversimplification actually,” Julian comments, although he seems to understand that it was a joke.

“Well we should probably get going. I have somewhere to be in the morning so I don’t want to stay out much later,” you make an excuse, saving everyone from this encounter.

“Oh, of course, love. I’d be happy to walk you home. It was nice meeting you, Barry.” Julian smiles, completely oblivious.

“Wish I could say the same,” Barry says the words with a grimace before he can catch himself. You stare at him, shocked, your mouth hanging open. He doesn’t give either of you a chance to respond before he starts jogging again.

tagging: @autoblocked @book-loving--anime-chick @abbessolute @karazoiel @overlyobsethed @therealcap @whoopxd @bookworm4ever99 @geeksareunique @potterwolf16 @frankie2902 @fabinapercabeth4179 @yessoftball-lover06 @blckthrns @barry-writes @ravenhaviland @clockblobber @iammsamy @softdudebro @parkerschurros @stuttering-psychopath @woaahkelsey @montytheravenclaw @sanya-gryff @smutfornerds

[choosemarecal]

Won’t Say I’m In Love- Marecal    Modern Paris AU

Note: This isn’t connected to my previous fanfic for the RQ Secret Santa. But it is Marecal and is set when the two love birds are older. Other characters will be featured later. Enjoy!

Also, I have a Wattpad! (where I posted this and my RQ Secret Santa Fanfic)

Chapter 1: Mare

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I was practically running, causing people to turn their heads and nod with acknowledgement. I can’t be late. She’ll hate me if I miss my flight.

“Flight 367 is taking off in five minutes,” a woman on the speaker called.

I glanced down at my ticket. I broke into a sprint.

I caught sight of Gate 16 towards the end of the terminal. I focused on getting there as fast as I could, nearly knocking into four people on my run. I slowed to a brisk walk when I neared my gate and turned around the wall. My heartbeat was still racing when I reached the passenger service desk.

“Hi,” I said, breathless.

The agent wore a tight bun and her name plate read ‘Penelope’. She pointedly glanced at her watch and gave me a fake smile.

“Your ticket, Miss,” she said with clipped tones.

I held out the ticket in my hand and winced when I saw that I had crumpled it while running. She took my ticket and checked it in. After glancing at the computer screen, she handed me back my ticket with an “enjoy your flight”.

When I entered the plane I became aware of exactly how many people were on this flight and promptly found my seat in the Economy section. A middle seat. Well, it could be worse.

A man with graying hairs was seated next to the aisle and a young girl with faded hair was gazing out the window.

“Excuse me,” I said to the man, who responded with a grunt and moved his legs to give me space to pass.

I sat down with a huff and kicked my bag under the seat in front of me. I reached for my seat belt at the side and clicked it into the buckle. Except it didn’t click.

I blinked and tried again. I flipped it around and tried. Still didn’t work. I kept trying until the girl next to me laid a hand on my shoulder, motioned to the man, who was now trying to sleep, and pressed a finger to her lips. I mouthed ‘sorry’ and grimaced.

Well, that’s just amazing. Am I just going to have to endure the flight without a seat belt?

The sound of overhead compartments closing triggered a thought. Of course. Tell a flight attendant.

I waited for one of them to get close to me before waving to get their attention. 

“Hey, uh, my seat belt is broken,” I told the flight attendant (who’s name was ‘Stacey’).

“Oh! It isn’t buckling in?” she responded. I showed her my predicament. “Okay then. I’ll be right back, hon.”

I watched her disappear into the employee area and reappear after a few moments. She made her way to me and smiled.

“We apologize greatly for your inconvenience so early into the flight. If you would follow me, I can take you to your new seat,” she said warmly. New seat? I smiled a little. It could possibly be better than this one.

I immediately grabbed my bag and jumped up from my seat. Stacey was already making her way down the aisle and I walked quicker to keep up. We passed all of the Economy seats until we were near the front of the plane. First Class. My smile widened.

Stacey stopped at two First Class seats. The aisle seat was occupied already, but the window seat was empty. She gestures to it.

“I hope this seat accommodates you well. Enjoy the flight, and if you have any questions, a flight attendant will be able help.”

“Thank you so much,” I said gratefully. Stacey nodded and headed back to the Economy section of the plane. I sidestepped to my seat and sat down. I was pleasantly surprised to see how much space I now had.

I took the rest of the five minutes to explore what exclusive content First Class travelers were given before realizing there was still someone sitting next to me. I took a brief look at them.

He was looking down at his phone and typing something, but that didn’t stop me from awing him. He looked like a goddamn model. I took in the cut of his jaw and, although his hair looked a bit messy, his clothes looked designer. I could tell he actually paid for this seat. I quickly looked away before he could realize I was staring and took out my phone and earbuds.

Amid all the events, the plane to took off. Once we were in steady in the air, a voice spoke.

“Hi, can I offer you a drink?” I turned to see a flight attendant with a cart full of different beverages. The person next to me answered first.

“Just water for me,” he said. If he didn’t take advantage of those fancy drinks then he must be a regular First Class traveler. But I’m not a regular so I’ll take all the fancy things offered.

“I’ll have red wine,” I said. The flight attendant poured a cup of water for the guy and a glass of wine for me. He took his offered drink and the flight attendant held out my wine. I reached for the glass and took hold of it.

At the same time, the plane suddenly jolted. The glass tipped to the side and I watched in horror as the contents of the glass spilled out.

Onto the person sitting next to me.

In moments, his face and clothes were drenched in red wine.

I felt my face grow hot with shame. “Oh. My God. I am so sorry.” I couldn’t do anything except stare at his wine stained face for a reaction.

“Well, that’s just grape,” he joked, looking up at me.

It took me a second to realize what he’d done. My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Was… was that a wine pun?”

(another) Author's Note: *characters are not mine and are from the RQ series by Victoria Aveyard* Thank you for reading this far and I hoped you liked it and will continue reading! I’m not very satisfied with how this started, but to finish the story it needs to begin somewhere. But, I’m excited for this fanfic because I have many ideas for it and these wonderful characters! 

tag list: @bookworm0123, @sophi2222, @i-hate-the-waves, @cal--zone, @maremollytitanos, @2460-so-done-with-you, @same-white-light, @famousdreamlandpainter, @scxrletguardsdawn, @ifyoudieillkillyou, @kindnzss, @kenz-dalt, @queeniriscygnet, @redqueenfandom, @nightmarebarrow (ask me if you want to be removed or added from this list!)

[kyloswarstars]

Mamma Mia!

Star Wars, Request AU

Request: can I request a modern!kylo ren x reader based on mamma mia!(Sophie’s plot) thankkk youuu

Pairing: Kylo Ren Organa x Reader

Warning: none (but swearing as always)

Words: 6.2K

A/N: First I was like „okay, who could be reader’s parents“, but then I was like „nah, I should do Sophie’s plot with Kylo of course…“ (idk if the request was meant that way in the first place anyways 🙈) Honestly, this was the hardest request yet (or story in general), but it was also super fun to write. I hope you can enjoy it! 😊 @buried-in-books thanks a lot for the amazing beta work 🤩💐 Any similarities to other writers’ work are not intended. All ideas used in a fanfiction I post are made up in my brain (as long as it is not a request).

∞ Tag: @lokey-bucky-stevey

/////

No matter how exhausting the last days of college for this semester had been, it couldn’t kill your positive vibes. It felt like your body was constantly producing a high amount of endorphins. It felt like this for nearly over a year now, ever since you had met Kylo on that rainy day where your dad’s jeep broke down on your drive around the island.

The jeep got repaired, though. Since you moved to O’ahu, your dad gave up on getting it back ever again and left it to you. It had been to his benefit: he could finally buy that new truck he always wanted and didn’t have to feel too guilty about it.

The drive from the city, directly to Kylo’s place, was too long today – even with your good mood; or was it because of your good mood? You had just finished the last exam, which meant it was officially summer break for you. It also meant there were only two days left until your wedding. Then the dork of a surfer dude would be your husband. You couldn’t wait for it anymore.

May was nearly over, still, there came in some good waves if you were patient enough to wait for them. Kylo was. He wasn’t a patient guy at all – the best example was the proposal at Christmas after roughly five months of knowing each other – but when it came to surfing, he was the personified patience. You pulled into the hostel parking lot, parked the jeep and walked around the building. Nine out of ten times he would be in the water when you arrived, whether it was surfing for fun or teaching it to some backpackers.

You couldn’t stand sand in your shoes, so you took them off and carried them along the beach. It was warm enough to wear shorts and a top, it was actually pretty warm – the summer started early this year. Wind blew over the beach, and it ruffled up your hair but that was okay. The wind brought a wave that revealed Kylo on his surfboard. He surfed it right to the beachside – that could only mean he had spotted you on the beach once again. Kylo had eyes like a hawk: he always noticed you approaching the water.

When your bare feet met the wet sand Kylo grabbed the surfboard under his arm and took the last few steps out of the water – with a huge, bright grin on his lips. The water must have a decent temperature for him to surf without a wetsuit. He dropped the board to the sand and slammed his arms around you. You’re clothes got soaked by his wet body. Kylo loved to do this every time you appeared on the beach when he was in the water. He swayed with you, tightly in his arms, from one to the other side.

„I missed you,“ Kylo whispered into your ear. The water in his hair dripped into yours.

„It’s only been like six hours.“

He broke the hug to look down at you. Kylo was so madly in love with you that even six hours were too long. He couldn’t remember anymore how he survived the three and a half months after your summer break until you finally moved to O’ahu. To be honest: he didn’t even want to think about it because he planned on never being so long apart from you ever again.

Kylo placed a kiss on your lips and another one on your forehead, then returned to staring at your face. Before you, he never knew that he could admire cheekbones and a jawline so much, or dark circles from weeklong studying for exams and simultaneously working at the gas station.

Your face was the only thing he wanted to look at for the rest of his life. Kylo would be alright if he couldn’t see the ocean anymore, or the sunset and the sunrise, as long as he was able to look at you. He didn’t want to miss a day where he could see your soul shine through your eyes right at him. You never did that with someone else, only with him, and that made it even more mesmerizing.

„Oi, Y/N!“ Behind Kylo appeared two guys you hadn't noticed before because your eyes had only been on him.

Poe and Finn stepped out of the water, in wetsuits. You knew them from several wedding preparation Skype calls. Kylo had told you he would get them from the airport while you were writing the last exam today.

„You’re here.“ Your clothes were wet already so you hugged them both at the same time, without even asking. „So nice to meet you in person.“ They agreed simultaneously with a ‚same‘ and instantly gave you an update on their flight. Poe mostly mentioned airplane stuff because he was currently studying to become a pilot himself one day; Finn talked about the toddler in front of them and how he made grimaces for her because she had cried a lot.

The three boys had a lot to catch up on, and it was cute to see Kylo with his two best friends. He missed them since they left the island for college, you knew that. He always talked about when they were kids and learned how to surf. When you didn’t study for college, didn’t work at the gas station, or didn’t spend time out on the water or with Kylo in general, you helped out at the hostel.

Leia, Kylo’s mother, has ran it for over fifteen years now. She founded it to create a welcoming and familiar space for backpackers and travellers with a low budget. Technically, it was a big family house where everyone integrated pretty fast to the community. Leia’s plan had been resistance. She didn’t agree with the huge hotels that demanded horrifying prices for one night. She believed that traveling was about an adventurous experience that took your breath away when you remembered it, not about worrying over a budget.

Most of the visitors stayed longer than they originally had planned because this hostel wasn’t only a hostel – it was home. When new travellers came in and there was barely space for them, Leia always figured something out. She had a talent for improvisation.

There were two young backpackers from Sweden, Vera and Sven, twins that explored the world together. You loved the fact that they, as siblings, went out into the world together. They had lived in the hostel for nearly four weeks now.

You headed over to the kitchen, leaving Kylo alone with his mates, to check and see if you could do something. Vera and her brother were washing some dishes, you helped them, and made sure they wouldn’t go out on a hike on Saturday. They assured you, again, they wouldn’t. You loved being at the hostel because you had made so many friends from all over the world. You loved even more that everyone that had checked in at the moment would be attending the wedding. One big family to celebrate with – it couldn’t get any better.

/////

Kylo lit the fireplace at the beach every night. It belonged to the hostel and was the evening hot spot for all the visitors, and for some neighbours too. Benches were made out of old palm trees – they weren’t as uncomfortable as you first imagined they would be.

„I need to tell you something.“ Kylo first looked at you. He felt guilty because he didn’t mention it to you before. Usually, it would’ve been something he would have discussed with you at the very beginning, but he had hesitated. And then the ‚right time‘ had passed and he felt like he couldn’t bring it up anymore. He looked to Poe and Finn. „I invited my father to the wedding.“

„You what?“ You looked at him in surprise, but it was probably more like shock.

Poe placed his beer in the sand so he wouldn’t drop it. „Dude, I thought you don’t know who your dad is.“

„Well, I still don’t know it.“

„Who did you invite then?“ Finn wore the most confused face.

Kylo got up and grabbed some new wood to put on the bonfire. „Three possible fathers?“

„What the fuck?“ He looked at you. Kylo loved your cursing, it was part of your humour, and he loved even more how you broke into laughter. Suddenly he didn’t know why he didn’t tell you right away, seeing your reaction. „How?“

„When I was clearing out the one room for renovation, I found an old box with photos. Mom used to do a lot of photography before I was born; she labeled every photo.“

„Let me guess,“ Poe stood up, „you found three photos of men that were labeled with the time she must have gotten pregnant with you?“

„Yo.“ He fished the photos out of his pocket, he carried them since he posted off the letters. They looked at the men and read the labels.

„And you decided to just invite all three of them?“ Finn’s voice was really high, he didn’t try to hide his confusion.

„Yeah. I didn’t know which of them would be my father… with all three of them I’m not doing anything wrong, right?“

Poe looked at Finn, Finn looked at you, the three of you looked at Kylo. He shrugged and sat down next to you again.

You turned him to you. „Why did you keep it a secret from me?“ It bugged you, but not too much.

„I don’t know. It won’t happen again.“

„Yeah, it won’t because we’re over if you’re doing this again, Organa.“

„Y/N!“ Kylo snapped hysterically.

„Only a joke, babe.“ You placed a hand on his thigh. Whenever you touched him or he touched you, all the people around you got unimportant. „You can keep as many secrets as you want. You’ll tell me when it’s time.“ His face lit up again in the bonfire’s shine. „But what did you think? What is supposed to happen?“

Kylo shrugged again – he liked to do that – and offered some thoughts on how he wanted this thing with the father to go. He didn’t have a real plan. He just sent them the invitation to the wedding and didn’t think about anything else. That was a typical Kylo move.

/////

On the days you didn’t have college, you always tried to eat lunch with your dad. Kylo joined the two of you sometimes, but today you drove off alone. He helped out in the hostel because his mother already made preparations for tomorrow. She wouldn’t let him do it as she insisted on doing it herself. Kylo couldn’t do anything about it; his mom was even more stubborn than he was.

„Excuse me?“ Kylo had done some paper work at the reception and looked up to see three men with luggage standing in the small entrance of the hostel.

„Hello there! Nice to see you, how can I help you?“ He stood up and walked around the reception. It was always a pleasure for him to welcome some business men, still in their suits. They would come to the hostel from time to time to relive some good old times. When he eyed them with full attention something felt odd. Those faces looked familiar. Kylo had seen them before. He had seen younger versions of them…

Fuck. The photo men.

Kylo stared at them for a solid minute. He tried to remember the photographs and compare them to the men in front of him. The one in the middle, who had ‚excused himself‘, must be Lando. Seeing him now, he wondered if he, being Kylo’s father, was even a real possibility. Lando’s photograph had been a black and white one, without much lightness; it didn’t show clearly how he had looked twenty-five years ago.

The man to Lando’s right was dressed in a suit as well. He wore a lot of pomade to keep the wild hair under control – this must be Wedge. He didn’t care about his hair back in the photograph, it had been a mess; just like Kylo’s was, he realised.

The third man stood in the doorframe, finishing his cigar and wearing the most funky Hawaiian shirt Kylo had ever seen. He instantly recognised this man: Han Solo.

„We are invited to a wedding tomorrow. Are we at the right place? Is this Leia Organa’s hostel?“ Wedge unbuttoned his jacket and took it off. It was pretty hot for the end of May. Kylo wondered how he had managed to wear it that long without melting. „It’s actually funny, we met at the airport and shared a taxi because we randomly found out we all have been invited to the same wedding.“

„Are you choking on your own spit, kid?“ Han flicked the remains of his cigar away and came closer. Kylo didn’t speak for three minutes now. He hadn’t thought about what would happen when the men would stand in front of him. Again he hadn’t thought. He always just did things, never thinking about the consequences.

„Sorry.“ He cleared his throat to win some more seconds, in which he could think about what he would do with them now. „You’re absolutely at the right place! Please follow me.“

„Shouldn’t we check in first?“ Lando called after Kylo, but he had already went down the hallway.

„Oh no, wedding guests don’t pay.“ The three followed him to the end of the hallway to the one big room that was still under construction. Later it would be a ten-bed room, but for now Kylo needed to find some old folding beds he could offer them. „By the way, I am Kylo and it’s my wedding you’re invited to.“

„Yes, right! You’re Leia’s son, right? It’s a nice gesture to invite us to her son’s wedding.“

Oh right. Kylo sent the invitations in Leia’s name because he feared they wouldn’t come if it wasn’t for her.

„Yes, I’m Leia’s son.“ Maybe yours too, Lando.

It took him a few seconds to nod his head at Kylo’s confirmation. They followed him to the room, but hesitated to really enter. It was a construction area, Kylo understood why they didn’t want to get in completely. „I’m sorry, we’re a little short on space.“

„That’s alright, kid. It looks cozy.“ The Hawaiian shirt walked past him and dropped his bag to the floor. Lando and Wedge didn’t look as comfortable with the situation like Han, but they didn’t say anything against it.

Shoving them into a room was enough, right? „Yo, see you then.“

„Wait!“ Wedge stopped Kylo from disappearing to a corner, where he could hide and curse over his own stupidity and the non-existing plan of how to handle the situation. He should’ve told you from the beginning; you were good with plans. Or common sense. „What are we supposed to do?“

„Stay in there?“

„No way, kid.“ Han grinned mischievously and, again, walked passed Kylo, but this time out of the room, instead of in. Lando didn’t wait long and followed him, just like Wedge. When Kylo realised, they were in the hostel, in his mother’s hostel, he rushed after them. He only told you and his best mates yesterday. His mother for sure didn’t know a single thing about those three man that were here.

Kylo caught up on them when they reached the beach behind the building. „Do you want to go out on the water?“ Please do. Far out, Leia wouldn’t notice them too quick. In the meantime Kylo could call you for help.

„That’s why we’re here, kid.“ Hawaiian-shirt-Han took off his sunglasses for the first time and used them to point at Kylo. „Do you have some boards?“

„Yeah.“ Kylo gestured to his left side. „I’m running a small surf school that belongs to the hostel.“ To his luck, they followed him to the shed where all the surf stuff was stored. They spoke about some summer on O’ahu: how the water had been their best friend, how life had turned out since then. They probably spoke about the summer Leia got pregnant with him, still they didn’t figure out that all of them were talking about nearly the same thing. They all mentioned a woman, but not even then did they get it.

When they treaded off to the water, Kylo pulled out his phone and dialled you. He gave you a rap about what had happened. You laughed at him, but assured you would come over right after lunch.

Kylo returned to the reception, but also kept an eye on the ocean. He should be out there, it was irresponsible to let them surf without him observing them. But he couldn’t tell his mother she needed to take over the reception, Leia would get suspicious.

Somehow he was able to get them back into the room after their surf session. Kylo promised them some lunch if they stayed in the room. They agreed.

He used all the cooking knowledge he had, which resulted into pasta with tomato sauce. You were a far better cook than him; you always worked some magic and cooked the most delicious meals. Kylo was only good with cutting the veggies and preparing all the stuff – onions were his speciality because nothing could make him cry besides you.

/////

Her knucklehead had vandalised the hostel kitchen. Leia hadn’t thought about searching for him there because when Kylo was hungry, he went to the family apartment’s kitchen. This mess could only be made by her son, and it was typical for him to leave a chaos behind when he cooked. She couldn’t truly understand why you had agreed to marry him because he had so much of Leia in him, but she was happy you did. Maybe he would finally move out after getting married to you and give her peace when she wanted to watch ‚Friends‘.

„Mom?“ Kylo returned with three empty plates to the kitchen. He was surprised to find his mother there, even though he shouldn’t have been because it already had been a wonder that she didn’t cross his path since the three possible dads had arrived.

„Son?“ She looked at him with her unapologetic stare. When she noticed the three plates, her eyes squeezed and she came closer. „What is going on?“

„Nothing.“ He walked around her and put the plates in the dishwasher.

„Kid? Could we get some water?“ No. NO. Kylo couldn’t react as fast as he wanted to to prevent the catastrophe. Han appeared in the doorframe. „Mamma Mia!“

„Han?“

„Leia!“

Both of them stared at each other. Leia in shock, maybe with an escape plan to leave the island, even if she needed to swim; Han in complete fascination.

„Fuck.“ Kylo didn’t know what he should do. Why didn’t you arrive yet? You were far better with delicate stuff like this.

„What’s going on here?“ Leia put her hands on her hips and stared at her son. The last time she gave him that look, he had lit up the old shed in his uncle’s backyard by accident.

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, two low voices got closer to the kitchen. Soon, Lando and Wedge arrived behind Han.

„Leia!“

„Why are you here?“

The three men, hit by realisation, got into a discussion until Lando cut it. „We’re here because you obviously invited all three of us. To Kylo’s wedding.“

Leia scoffed. „Why should I invite someone to my son’s wedding? We’re living in the twenty-first century, the boy can invite people himself.“ She covered her face with her hands for a moment; she did that to regain control over her thoughts. „And if I invited someone, it for sure wouldn’t have been you.“ Leia turned to her son. „What did you do? You’ll be the cause for my heart attack one day!“

Kylo somehow managed to overcome his shock and asked the possible dads to return to their room. He would come and explain everything, but he first needed to talk to his mother. They unexpectedly followed his request and left.

„Son, what did you do?“

„Trying to get everyone together. The family.“

Kylo could see how the anger left her face instantly. The wrinkles around her eyes got deeper, the sorrow on her forehead made clear that she had aged in the past years. „You know what we think about this.“ Leia took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes. She felt a little guilty.

„Yes.“ She had raised him with the knowledge that she didn’t know who his father was, and that the two of them were ‚enough‘. They had been their own little family. „But I also want to find out who is responsible for the other part of me.“ She didn’t respond so Kylo went on. „I found those old photos and I just invited them. This wedding will be a huge one, with a lot of people that are not related by blood, but by heart with – I just want my father to be there, too.“

„Was it wrong, that I never showed you the photos?“ Kylo had never seen his mother so emotional about that topic. She was a tough woman that always proved herself. When it came to her son, she could get really sensitive.

„No, mom. It’s alright.“

„I’m sorry, Kylo.“ She kissed one of his hands.

„I didn’t know how I should tell you, but I want you to understand it, so you don’t feel like I don’t appreciate our family.“ He kissed one of her hands. That was a thing they did since he had been little. „The wedding, the marriage, Y/N – it will be a new step in my life. I want to evolve and become the man that is worthy of her. I want to know where my roots are. Especially since I know her, because one day I’ll hopefully be the father to her children, and I want to know how it feels to have a dad.“

She nodded her head. Leia was aware that the ideals she had been raising him after, couldn’t automatically be his. It was natural for a child to want to know where it came from.

„So you don’t know who my father is…“

„No.“ She released his hands and started to clean up his mess. „It could be anyone of them, actually.“

„Really?“ It had only been Kylo’s assumption until now. Though at the same time he didn’t think she was lying to him. He didn’t think she only told him that she didn’t know when, in fact, she knew. She wasn’t one for lying.

„Don’t look at me like that! Your mom had a lot of fun when she was young.“ She chuckled.

„We don’t doubt that.“ Kylo turned around and nearly dropped the pot with the pasta. Finally. He wasn’t one for love declarations in public, but after all the trouble this morning, he couldn’t resist. He bowed down to you, still the pot in his hands, and kissed you. Long and intensely.

Leia and Kylo alternated with each other to give the different views of what had happened. You managed to talk Leia into leaving for the reception and finished cleaning up the mess with Kylo.

In the meantime, the three possible dads had found out they all had a thing going on with Leia that summer. Still, they didn’t come to the final conclusion when Kylo and you arrived in their room. In fact, they all fumbled at their luggage and mumbled something about the airport.

„What are you doing?“ You could hear in Kylo’s voice that he didn’t want them to leave. Before you had interrupted him and his mom, you had heard what he had told her. You didn’t really want to listen in on them, but it had been too tempting.

„We came to the conclusion that Leia probably doesn’t want us here. We’re leaving.“ They would actually make a good boy band, you thought. Lando as the frontman, because he seemed to speak for all three of them, Wedge on the drums, and Han would be the crazy guitarist that shreds his guitar on stage every now and then, or all the time. He seemed like the type of guy that did only crazy stuff. Or at least that’s what his funky Hawaiian shirt said.

„But I want you there.“

„Kid, we thought we were here because Leia wanted us here. Sorry.“

„My name is Kylo, not kid, and I’m your son. Yours too, Lando. Wedge, same applies to you. As far as I know one of you is my father, so I want you all to attend our wedding as part of my family.“

The three possible dads, now aware of it, sat back on their folding beds. They needed a few minutes to overcome the shock. It surprised you that this fact seemed to bring them closer together. They discussed about it like they had been friends for more than half of a day.

„You know, I want the whole experience. I never had a father, so I’m okay with all three of you. If you’re okay too?“

Again, they talked about it like Kylo and you wouldn’t stand right in front of them.

„Alright.“

It took them a hour to adjust to the news. They didn’t flip, they were just highly confused about becoming fathers so suddenly. But becoming a parent was obviously funnier when the child was allowed to drink alcohol with you. Over some beers, they shared a lot of theories about how Kylo had Wedge’s hair and Lando’s eyes.

You excused yourself after some time to get out on the waves. Kylo wanted you to stay but he also didn’t want you to miss out on your daily surf dose.

He enjoyed talking to the men. They were actually the coolest dudes and he loved that they were here and were staying for his wedding.

Finn and Poe joined the boys in the afternoon. The evening quickly turned into Kylo’s stag night. A lot of beer, a lot of jokes, a lot of getting to know each other better.

You had spent hours out on the water, when you came back, you didn’t want to interrupt the stag night thing they had going on, so you stole a kiss from Kylo and said goodbye until tomorrow. He didn’t want to let you go so easily. It was the last day were you would be his girlfriend – technically his fiancée. Kylo stole some more kisses until he released you, so you could head to your car.

It felt wrong to open the car door and leave and not sleep over at Kylo’s place. Fuck the ritual of not sleeping in the same bed the night before the wedding; nothing or no one could hold you back from tugging yourself into Kylo’s sheets.

/////

Han opted out at some point. He had a mission. No plan, but he wanted to talk to Leia. He snuck around the hostel, searching for her. She crouched over a lot of papers at the reception.

„You raised a good man.“

Leia looked up. His voice could still give her shivers. „Did you expect something else?,“ she pursed her lips.

„I didn’t expect you to have a child at all.“

She crossed her arms as an answer and got up to stand in front of him.

„So I wasn’t the only one that summer, huh?“ His eyes beamed at her. He wasn’t mad, he was just fascinated to see her again. Over all those years, she had lingered in the back of his mind.

„Han, you still think you’re the only star in the sky?“ Leia had loved his stubborn head, and even his ridiculous self-confidence.

„I for sure know you are mine,“ he smirked. How could that man still work his magic the way he did twenty-five years ago?

Kylo turned away when he saw his mother kiss Han. He hadn’t expected to become a witness of such a scene on the way to the family apartment. In hope they wouldn’t notice that he had heard their conversation, he sneaked passed them and hurried to his bedroom. He found the sweetest surprise when he entered it: you, curled up in his blanket.

Kylo had hoped you would change your mind and stay over. It made him incredibly happy to be able to wrap his arms around you now.

You recognised his presence and pulled him closer, pressing against his chest. God, he couldn’t wait for tomorrow when you said ‚I do‘ and this here would be available for him the rest of his life.

/////

When he slept, Kylo’s facial mimic was completely relaxed. It was the most beautiful view you had ever seen. Most times you tried to count his freckles the Hawaiian sun had given him. You had stared at him for a long time already. You woke up when it was still dark outside; now the sun started to shine through the curtains.

„We’re gonna get married today,“ you smiled when he opened his eyes. Kylo wasn’t a morning person at all. Usually it took him a hour to process information with a tired brain, but today it worked faster. He nodded and managed the most sleepy, but happiest grin. You scooted closer to him, so you could kiss his adorable face.

A billion kisses and a coffee later, you drove back to your place. Your dad was already running in circles when you arrived. He was definitely more nervous than you.

„Do you want me to do your hair?“

You were a bad bride for not even thinking about your wedding hair until this very moment. „Sure.“

Your dad had obviously thought about it. He seated you in front of the bathroom mirror and rushed out to come back with a small bowl of freshly picked flowers. „I thought about putting them into your hair.“ You could only smile at how cute he was.

When your parents still had been together, your father always used to do your hair. He thought a dad should be able to do it – the ‚it isn’t manly excuse‘ never worked for him. You didn’t only move over to Hawaii for Kylo, but also for your dad. Living together with your mom had been alright, but living with your dad was far more funnier.

He was actually better at braiding than you were. He transformed two strands of hair, one from each side, into a crown. With the flowers, he placed in the crown, you felt like a fairy.

You’d been left alone to change into your wedding dress. Never had you dreamt about to marrying at twenty-two, but Kylo and you, that was far more than you ever thought could be possible. It’s not that you didn’t believe in true love, you just never expected it to be possible to fall so hard for someone.

The wedding dress felt odd. It fluttered around your ankles when you walked out of your room. You had expected to find your father right in front of your door, but he wasn’t waiting for you. Instead the front door was opened. When you went outside, you were greeted by cheers.

Your mom was here. And she had brought Rey and Rose with her, your two best friends from Florida. Those traitors had told you they couldn’t make it!

„Did you really think we would miss this day?,“ they screamed and rushed up the steps to engulf you in a group hug. Your dad recorded the scene with his phone.

„That’s not cool,“ you laughed. Actually, it was awesome.

Your mom had placed her hand over her heart and looked at you with that motherly pride in her eyes. She kissed you and then laid a white lei around your neck. „Are you ready?“

/////

You weren’t ready. Not even the slightest. The drive over to the hostel took ages, but at the same time it had been over too fast. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you got out of your jeep. Your dad wanted to drive you in his truck, but that way you would have had even more time to think about what you were going to do. Driving yourself, you had at least had control over that, when you didn’t have it over your heart.

Three hours ago you hadn’t been nervous at all, and now you were about to vomit because of what was ahead. You couldn’t understand it. Since his proposal on Christmas you had been excited for this day. Now, that it was here, it scared you.

„Take a deep breath.“ Your dad, who was by your side, took your arm and linked it with his. „That’s normal.“

„Are you sure?“

„Yes.“ He kissed your forehead and dragged you through the hostel to the beachside.

They had rolled over the old palm trees as benches and left space in the middle for an aisle. On each side of that aisle, a lot of people stood up to turn around and look at you, as your dad led you down the aisle.

There he was, at the end of the aisle. He looked so good in his shorts and the short-sleeved shirt. You didn’t know he would wear white too. The sight of him, and his smile, calmed you again. It was Kylo, get your shit together.

Your dad handed you over to Kylo when you arrived in front of him.

Holy shit, you looked so mesmerizing. Beautiful was an understatement. He tried to ignore the knot in his stomach. He tried so hard to enjoy this moment, to just see how fascinating you, and everything around, was. Still it didn’t feel right.

Kylo noticed you were shaking when he grabbed your hands in his. He had expected you to smile but you didn’t. Your eyes gave away that something wasn’t right for you either.

„Kylo,“ you leaned over to him and whispered into his ear, „I really want to marry you. Just not today.“

„Yes!“ He shouldn’t, for the sake of you, be so happy about your words. „Oh yes, thank you for saying this! It feels strange, right babe?“ Kylo wrapped his arms around you. He couldn’t believe, that what he wanted for so long wasn’t the thing he still wanted. Not now.

„Can we just wait a little? Like a year? Or ten?“

„Absolutely.“ He peppered you with kisses. Over and over again his lips crushed into yours. Until the crowd got too loud with shouts that demanded an explanation on what was going on.

Kylo looked into your eyes to make sure of your agreement before he turned to them. „No wedding today, folks.“

The guests, your parents and Leia, your friends, even the three dads erupted into loud questions. After the initial shock, some started to laugh and gave remarks about how it should have been obvious something like that would happen with the two of you.

Kylo and you walked down the aisle, together, but not married like you thought you would do it when you woke up today. You felt relieved. You loved that dork so much, but for a marriage, it was a little too early.

„Maybe you’re wrong, kid.“ Kylo stopped in his tracks, you too. Han took the place where Kylo had stood just moments ago. Everyone got quiet. „Come on, Leia.“ He called it over the whole beach.

Kylo could make out his mother in the first row. She gasped and hid her face in her hands again.

„The only reason I came to this island is you.“ Han’s grin was so bright, it actually outdid the sun. He looked at Kylo. „Sorry, kid.“

Everyone noticed the tension. Everyone knew this wasn’t a joke or completely absurd because otherwise Leia would have already protested.

/////

„I can’t believe we didn’t marry.“ Kylo drove your jeep. You had planned to go on a little honey moon with your tent around the island. Not saying ‚I do‘ wasn’t a reason on why you shouldn’t make a little trip anyways.

„I can’t believe your mother did.“

It had been the strangest day ever. Kylo got three new dads, Leia got a husband, and you the reassurance that Kylo loved you even without a wedding certificate.

„Kylo?“

„Yeah?“ Even with his sunglasses on, you could see him smiling with his whole face.

„Pull over.“ You unbuckled your seatbelt before the car came to a complete stop. „I need to kiss you.“ It went on like this for the next few days. You couldn’t get enough of him and never would. There would come the day when it would be right to marry him. Until then, you would gladly be ‚only‘ his girlfriend.

[dangertronic]

Not A Monster Chapter 2

Since these are basically recycled from my old thing, guess what I finished editing? o:

Others will probably be slower, though.

Tag list: @sten-bros @agrimny @creamy-brown-eyes @areyareddie

Remember to let me know if you want in or out the taglist!

Two:

 Eddie found that there was something oddly nice about spending time with Richie on a Saturday without the others around, even if their day had consisted of first going to opticians where Eddie had helped Richie pick out a pair of black thin rimmed glasses since his other ones were so broken that they had fallen apart that morning when he’d tried to put them on.

It had been amusing for Eddie when Richie had called him, after apparently dialing the wrong number three times in his blind and sleepy stupor, asking him to help him actually make it to the optician without walking into a lamppost, a car, or generally into traffic.

Next had been the pharmacy, the reason that Eddie hadn’t minded being a guide person since he needed to pick up his prescription for his inhaler anyway. Richie had spent most of the time in the pharmacy checking out his glasses in a mirror and making sure they were sitting perfectly, attempting to get used to a pair of glasses that actually fit him.

At a loss of what to do after their little errands, they’d stopped at the café, Richie shoving Eddie towards a booth to grab them some seats while he went to order them some hot chocolate after their adventure in the cold December air.

Glancing around the café while they drank, Richie caught sight of Jessica sitting at one of the tables with another girl from class by the name of Lucille. They were sitting at a small two-seater only table, seeming to be paying attention only to each other.

Richie had never seen either of them outside of school before, and it was almost like they were different people. In school they were pretty close, sharing jokes and cheek kisses, but here in the café, with none of the school’s designated bullies around, they were holding hands across the table, and Lucille leaned over to whisper something into Jessica’s ear that made her stutter.

Were they…?

Lucille laughed at Jessica’s reaction to whatever she’d said, reaching out and tapping a pink painted fingernail against the other’s nose before she leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

Yes.

Yes they were.

“Don’t gawk at them, dumbass.” Eddie snapped, kicking Richie under the table.

“Ow, what the fuck Eds?” Richie groaned, twisting back around in his seat and reaching under the table to rub at his abused shin. “I wasn’t gawking I just –”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open.

Oh.

“Are you telling me you didn’t know?” Eddie hissed, keeping his voice low.

“Of course I – how was I supposed to know!?” Richie demanded, sitting upright.

“You really are a dumbass.” Eddie said, shaking his head with a look of amusement on his face. “Maybe if you paid attention instead of thinking I was trying to replace you with her, you’d notice things.”

“Oh shut up.” Richie grumbled, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “Wait a second. How did you know she was into girls anyway?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Because I – she told me last week when she had to bail on a project because she had a date and she was rambling so hard she kinda just let it slip!”

Richie arched a brow. Because I –

Because you what, Eds?

“Right.” Richie said, not seeming all that convinced by his answer.

They’ll call you a monster. The voice nagged in the back of Richie’s head again.

No. That couldn’t be true. No one in this café thought that Lucille or Jessica were monsters. They weren’t sending them disapproving looks or whispering to their friends. They didn’t even notice the two girls in the middle of the room.

But if this was school it would have been different.

He’d never seen Lucille or Jessica look at each other like this in school; like the other person was the only one in the world despite being in the middle of a crowded café.

Just like the way he looked at Eddie.

Fuck.

There was no denying that anymore. He definitely wanted to be like Lucille and Jessica, sitting free in the open and being able to give Eddie that stupid look.

Hold his hand.

Ki –

“Hey Ed!” Jessica greeted as she joined the table with Lucille, their hands linked together between them.

“Hey Jess – Luci’.” Eddie greeted, shooting them both a grin. “On a date?”

“You know it.” Lucille said, raising their linked hands to kiss at the back of Jessica’s hand. “We just wanted to come and say hello to our favourite person who didn’t freak out when Jessica bailed on them with the admittance of a not-so-straight sexuality.”

“Do you have to keep saying it like that?” Jessica complained, flicking Lucille’s nose.

“What? I think it’s cute that you rambled.” Lucille said. “The post-freak-out was cute too. Oh I admitted I was a lesbian and that kid probably thinks I’m so fucking gross now.”

Jessica pinched at the bridge of her nose with her free hand, screwing her eyes shut. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Jessica reached over, ruffling Eddie’s hair. “I’ll make it up to you since I had to bail last week, okay? I’ll do the majority of the work.”

Eddie raised a hand, batting her arm away. “Don’t worry about it Jess. I know it’s hard for you two to actually get a date right now with your mom the way she is.”

Lucille rolled her eyes. “Personally I don’t see the problem. I came out to my mom and she was like: yeah kid, I kinda guessed that. I was just waiting for you to catch on.”

“Can I just like… trade moms with you?” Jessica asked.

Richie watched the look of sympathy and what he was pretty sure was understanding that crossed Eddie’s face.

“Jess, I’ll do the project. Use those ‘study nights’ and get some damn dates in.” Eddie said, lifting his mug. “You need them before you snap.”

“No way. I can’t just let you –”

“You’re not.” Eddie said, cutting her off. “As the one you left in charge of the project because you’re ‘bad at taking charge’, I order you to do this.”

Jessica sighed, a smile coming to her face. “Thanks Ed. I’ll make it up to you. I promise! When you need something, anything, even to help bury Richie’s body, just ask okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just go enjoy your date.”

“You’re the best!” Jessica said, releasing Lucille’s hand long enough to hug Eddie.

The two left, and Richie took careful note on how they tried to maintain some kind of comfortable distance between each other as they walked out the door, far enough that it didn’t look like they were dating.

At least in the outside world where people like Troy were no doubt roaming around the town looking for reasons to harass people.

“You’re really sweet, you know that right?” Richie asked, tearing his attention away from the door so his gaze settled on Eddie again. “Not many people would have done what you just did.”

An unmistakeable tinge of red crept onto Eddie’s face. “Well, you heard us. Her mom isn’t exactly… supportive over her life choices.”

“Well, how about I help you with this project?” Richie asked. “I know, I know, I’m not exactly in your history class, but I’d hate for you be stuck in your room driving yourself insane trying to do two halves of work. You can just tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.”

Eddie contemplated it for a moment, finishing off the remains of his drink. “Sure, Rich. Just don’t become some kind of an annoying distraction.”

“When have I ever been a distraction?” Richie asked, a faux innocent expression on his face.

Eddie scowled, staring silently at Richie.

All the damn time. Your stupid hair. Your stupid glasses. Your stupid voice. Your stupid face that I just want to grab and –

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Richie asked, a single brow quirked in confusion.

“Because you’re always a distraction with your dumb jokes whenever people are trying to get anything done.” Eddie said, placing his now empty mug onto the table. “I haven’t forgotten your stupid Doctor Pepper joke from the other day.”

Richie snorted, raising a hand into air next to him, the other on his chest. “I swear, my little Eddiebear, I’ll be on my best behaviour for this.”

“We agreed that you wouldn’t use that name after the other day.” Eddie said, crossing his arms.

“I made no such agreement.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too Eddiebear.”

“I’m regretting my decision to let you help me already.” Eddie deadpanned.

“Hey, I said I’d behave while helping. Here in this café you’re free game.”

Eddie groaned. “Fine.”

Silenced stretched over them, Eddie’s leg bouncing up and down under the table as his fingers drummed against the side of his mug, creating a rather relaxing rhythm to listen to.

“Hey Rich?”

Richie paused in the middle of his sip, gaze settling on Eddie behind the fogged up lenses of his glasses. “What’s up Eds?”

“If – hypothetically, if I was like Lucille or Jessica, would you think of me differently all of a sudden?”

Richie took careful note on how Eddie had not berated him for calling him Eds, slowly lowering his mug back to the table. This was serious, and he needed to treat it as such. “Where did that come from?”

“Just some stuff Jess said about her former friends back home.”

Richie grimaced. He had a pretty good idea on what had happened with the people Jessica had used to call friends. “Well, Eddiebear,” Richie began, removing his glasses and grabbing one of the table napkins to wipe them. “You’re my best friend, right?”

“Right.”

“We’re a dynamic duo, right?”

Eddie sighed. “Richie…”

“Right?”

Eddie smiled and nodded. “Right.”

“Then, you’d always be Eddie. My best friend and partner in crime… well voice of reason, no matter who you dated. I’m always gonna love you no matter what.”

A little too much, don’t you think, Richie?

The voice was back, taunting him yet again, clawing around in his head like a rabid animal.

Don’t touch the other boys, Richie.

Stanley Uris had never considered for one moment that his attempt to finish up his math homework that night would be disturbed, though part of him reasoned that this was something he should have expected.

Richie was forever climbing through his window for whatever reason he deemed worthy to the point that Stan had started to leave it open just enough for the boy to slip his fingers under the frame and push it up.

The sliding of the window to his left did not go unnoticed as Stan crossed out a wrong equation on his work and started to re-do it. “We have this thing called a door downstairs, you know.”

Richie threw one leg through the window, ducking to ease himself into the room. “Come on Staniel, where’s your sense of adventure?”

Stan furrowed his brow, not looking up from his work as Richie slid the window back down. “Last time we had a sense of adventure Eddie broke his arm.”

Richie grimaced and strode over to the bed, dropping into a seated position. “That’s so not the only time that we had a sense of adventure.”

“Maybe for you.” Stan said, looking over the next equation in his book carefully. “Now are you going to tell me why you just broke into my room rather than using the door like a normal human being?”

“I have a problem.”

“You are a problem.” Stan turned a page in his notebook, still diligently doing his work.

Richie placed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch, Staniel. Way to cut deep.”

“You’re right.” Stan said, still not looking up from his work. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“Correct. Now, you had a problem?”

“Oh, yeah.” Richie stood, and Stan could hear him pacing across the room. “Okay, so like, I uh, I’ve been having some… kinda weird… thoughts, I guess? I don’t know. But I hear that thing. It keeps… taunting me, and it’s happening more and more each day, and it’s getting harder to sleep because then I see that thing, and it’s taunting me, telling me that I – that people would think I’m a monster if they knew something really personal about me. Something… not normal I guess? But then I saw Jessica and Lucille today and I couldn’t help but think ‘wow they’re so fucking brave and how could anyone think that they’re monsters’ when they’re more like –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, halt.” Stan said, twisting in his seat to look at Richie who had his fingers buried deep into his hair as though he’d been trying to yank it out during his rant. “You wanna try this a little… slower?”

“Stan –”

“No, Richie, you’re ranting so much it’s hard to take everything in.” Stan said, eyeing Richie.

Richie groaned and threw himself face-down onto Stan’s bed. “IlikeguysStan.”

Stan blinked, his head tilting slightly to one side, one arm resting on the back of his chair. “Come again?”

“I. Like. Guys.” Richie said, voice muffled by the blanket. “Well… girls too… but… yeah.”

Stan nodded, dropping his pen onto his notebook in order to give Richie his full attention. “Okay. That’s a good place to start. What next?”

“I keep… I hear Pennywise. He –”

“It.”

“ – it – basically keeps telling me if you guys knew that you’d think I was monster but I can’t keep bottling it up anymore and I – I kinda –”

“You like Eddie.” Stan stated. “It’s about time your brain caught up. You’re so obvious. Bill and I have known this for a while now.”

Richie raised a hand, extending his middle finger to Stan. Stan rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from the chair, heading over to the bed to sit beside Richie where he tentatively placed a hand to his back. Even in this position, Stan could feel the tell-tale signs of a panic attack. Being around Eddie for so long had taught him the signs.

“Take a deep breath, Richie.” Stan said, his voice calm and soothing. “Look, you’re not a monster. None of us would think that. Why do you think we’d think that?”

“I don’t know – I guess with the way this town is –”

Stan sighed, dropping to lie on his back next to his distressed friend. “Yeah, I get that. That’s why Jess doesn’t parade it around the school.”

Richie tilted his head to look at Stan. “Great, you knew too?”

“I mean, I asked her to the winter formal and that’s when she told me she liked girls.”

Richie snorted. “Poor Staniel. First girl you ask to a dance and she’s a lesbian.”

“Shut up Richie. I’m here comforting you and you’re being a jerk.”

“Right, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. So you don’t think –”

“I think you’re a lot of things, Trashmouth.” Stan said, tilting his own head to look at Richie. “Impulsive, reckless, loud, annoying, obnoxious, a pain in the ass sometimes…”

“Thanks Stan.”

“But,” Stan continued, smiling. “A monster is not one of them.”

Richie seemed to perk up at that. “Really?”

“Yes, idiot.” Stan said, tucking a hand behind his head. “You’re one of my closest friends, my first friend, actually. And you’ll remain that no matter who you are.”

Richie grinned. “You’re the first one I told this to. Could you –”

“No problem Richie.”

“Just until I know how to tell them without… you know…”

“Rambling?”

“Yeah.”

Stan chuckled, and then he sat up. “Okay, you’ve broken into my house, vented, distracted me from work and established you’re not a monster. Now can I please get back to my work?”

Richie slowly pushed himself up, clambering awkwardly to his feet. “Sure thing, Staniel! See you Monday!”

Stan shook his head in mild amusement as Richie debated which way to leave the house. In the end, he settled for sliding the window open, throwing one leg over the ledge before letting himself drop onto the flat surface of the garage roof.

“Idiot.” Stan muttered, strolling over to the window and sliding it down with a snap.

With his room now officially Richie free, Stan returned to his desk, plopping back down into his chair and picking up his pen once more.

Richie looked down at his watch as he headed down the street, grimacing at how late it already was. He had just over half an hour to get home or his parents would be on his ass. It’s not like they were horrible, not by a long shot since he would always have banter back and forth with them, but when Richie wasn’t back before ten-thirty, they worried.

Richie broke into a run, intent on making it home before his curfew. Originally his parents had wanted it to be much earlier, but they had come to agreement (after much back and forth bantering and slight arguing that was in no way malicious) that as long as he returned on time every night, he could keep the ten thirty one.

If he was ever late, they would lower it to ten. To Richie this was a fair deal, and he’d always made sure to be home just before ten thirty.

“I see you made it with a minute to spare.” Maggie Tozier greeted her son the moment the door flew open and Richie entered the house.

Glancing up at the clock that hung in the hallway, Richie grinned. “Safe.” He cheered, kicking the door shut gently behind him as Maggie emerged from the kitchen. “Guess that means lil’ ol’ me gets to keep my curfew then, ay, Milady?”

Maggie gave him a gentle slap on the arm. “Yes, I suppose it does. I see you picked out some nice glasses that actually fit you.”

“Indeed I did!” Richie said, pulling off his coat and hanging it up on the only empty peg by the door. “Lovely lil’ lad helped me pick ‘em out.”

Maggie shook her head in amusement, wiping her hands on her apron. “Eddie has good taste.” She said, grasping her son’s chin gently with her hand, tilting his head side to side. “Very good taste. They look good on you. You look, dare I say it, like a handsome young man.”

“Gross.” Richie joked, batting her hand away from his face. “Glad you approve of them. Eddie will be too. He spent an hour looking for something both ‘practical and Richie’.”

Maggie giggled, stifling it with her hand. “Of course he did. You have a good friend there, Richie.”

“The best!”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“No ma’am. I will forever remember that Edward Kaspbrak is the best friend a person could have. Well… along with one Stanley Uris of course.”

“Of course.” Maggie agreed. “I suppose you do need two people to keep you in line sometimes.”

“More than two, actually!” Richie corrected, following his mother as she made her way to the kitchen. “I have six of them to keep me in line. Well, five now…” He stopped by the refrigerator to grab a can of soda, leaning against the counter as he popped it open. “Speaking of which, Ben says our dear Beverly is going to be visiting over Christmas.”

“That’s wonderful!” Maggie said, fumbling with the back of her apron in an attempt to untie it. “I think it’s sweet that she still comes back to visit. I thought for sure that she’d never want to come back after what happened to her dad.”

Richie grimaced mid-sip, and then placed his can onto the counter. “Yeah. We all know she comes back for Ben.” He joked, approaching Maggie and batting her hands away from the apron strings. “I was wondering, if it’s okay with you two…” Richie paused, tugging at the knot in the apron strings to loosen it. “That maybe we could have a little party. A very responsible one, mind you, under your hawk like supervision.”

“Well, I suppose you can use the basement.” Maggie said, removing the apron once Richie patted her shoulder for the all-clear. “We put a television and a sofa in there for a reason. You guys could have a sleepover like when you were kids… but…”

“Ah, the but… there’s always a but.”

“You’re going to help me with a ton of chores for a while.”

Richie raised his hand, giving Maggie a mock two-finger salute. “That I can do, providing it doesn’t cut into my study sessions with Eddie.”

“Well, find out the days for that and I’ll put you to work on the others. Alright, it’s getting late, Richie, off to bed with you and I’ll talk to your father.”

“Ah, my saviour.” Richie swooned, placing a hand to his chest as he grabbed the can with the other. “I shall sleep now, and pray the verdict from Lord Went is good!”

Maggie rolled her eyes, playfully smacking Richie in the arm with her dishtowel. “Go to bed already, sweetie. You already look like you’re dead on your feet. I won’t have you getting sick on top of it too.”

“Right-o, ma’am! Tell the Lord I love him and goodnight! I wouldn’t like to distract his relaxation!”

“Richie.”

“Alright, alright, fine!” Richie turned, heading back into the hallway. He paused by the living room, poking his head around the doorframe to take in his father who was sitting in front of the television watching some kind of documentary. “Night dad! Love you!”

Went rose a hand, waving it in the air near his head. “Night, love you too kid. Get some sleep for once so I don’t have to hear you skulking around your room like a malevolent gremlin.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that or not.” Richie said, earning him a laugh from his father.

[parano-vigilant]

Shrunken Sides Part 2

Creativity gasped as Anxiety flinched away, “Hey! Be careful!”, he snapped, and Anxiety gave a bothered glare at the royal, who didn’t do so much as to flinch under his gaze. “Creativity, he didn’t even get close to touching you! Quit being mean to Anxiety!”, Morality scolded, and the prince grimaced, nodding obediently.

That didn’t stop him from sticking his tongue out at Anxiety, who returned the favor.

Logic rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Anxiety, we have a problem. The three of us seem to have… dropped in size considerably last night.”, he explained, and the anxious side carefully laid down on his stomach so he didn’t loom over the others. Logic nodded gratefully, “It took us an incredible amount of effort to find each other alone, not to mention coming downstairs to climb onto the couch to wake you up. We are in serious need of your help.”, Logic said, and Anxiety nodded.

His lips parted as he finally calmed himself enough to speak, “Are you all okay? Did any of you get hurt?”, Anxiety asked, feeling his own anxiety pull out of his panic and pour into protecting the smaller, more vulnerable sides in front of him. Morality smiled, shaking his head, “Nope! Luckily, we’re all okay! We all somehow managed to climb down our beds and leave our rooms! Logic and Creativity came into my room and helped me down from my bed by climbing down the blanket to the floor!”, Morality recalled, and Anxiety successfully hid the pang of fear in his heart of the idea of these tiny, fragile little things climbing up and down their beds- which would be much larger than Anxiety already was to them-

Anxiety hoped that Thomas couldn’t feel the anxiety of the idea of any of the tiny sides dropping from their bed to the floor- as that would be hard to deal with.

Creativity crossed his arms over his chest, “Well, you did drop me. That was the most danger I have seen all day.”, he grumbled, and Anxiety frowned, leaning his face just a bit closer to the prince. “I’m sorry that I dropped you, Creativity. I didn’t mean to. I just knew something was in my hair- so I panicked when the thing was living. I wouldn’t have dropped you if I had known that it was you. Sorry if I scared you. Did I hurt you in any way?”, Anxiety asked, and the prince sighed, “No, you didn’t.”

Princey’s silence was challenged by a stern look from Morality, and the creative side turned back to Anxiety, “And… apology accepted.”, he added.

Morality crossed his arms over his chest, “And?”, he pressed, and Creativity threw his hands up in frustration, “What? What else do I say?” Morality gestured to Anxiety, which made the anxious side flinch slightly, “You have your own apology to give, Princey.”, the paternal side huffed, and Creativity sagged reluctantly.

The prince looked back to Anxiety, “I am sorry for waking you up like that. While Morality’s way was too gentle, I was far too rough. I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I’m sorry.”, Creativity sighed, and Anxiety blinked.

The ghost of a smile appeared on the anxious side’s face, prompting a genuinely surprised look from Princey. A genuine, soft, small, warm smile was on Anxiety’s face-

Had Creativity ever even seen Anxiety smile before? He couldn’t remember, so he probably hadn’t. But if he had, it wasn’t so… genuine as this. But the trace of a smile was alien to see on the fair-skinned, makeup-using side, and it made Creativity wonder just what he had said that prompted this.

“Apology accepted, Creativity. I appreciate it.”

Oh. Creativity had been so wrapped up in noticing that Anxiety actually looked like something other than a dark and dreary dragon-witch cave that he had forgotten his apology to the side.

Was that why Anxiety was smiling? Because he had apologized? Really? He had been forced to apologize before… but maybe it was because this one was more in depth?

Huh. Maybe he should try to do that more often…

Just to see if it makes the side smile again. Might lessen the anxiety that Thomas would have to deal with, right?

Creativity gave a smile back, “Good. I’m. I’m glad.”, he replied, and he raised an eyebrow as the smile grew into the slightest of a smirk.

He would ignore that for now.

Anxiety quickly caught on that Princey didn’t want any sass right now, and put the smirk away, exchanging glances with Logic and Morality as well, “So, do you have any idea why this happened?”, Anxiety asked, and Logic shook his head. “No, we don’t. Even Creativity confirmed that any magic from his room wasn’t involved. Nor can we find any effects this may have had on Thomas. Our tasks are being carried out just as efficiently. as usual, he did well on a test in his first period today, and he’s still doing well.”, Logic said, adjusting his glasses as he always did.

Right. Thomas was in school right now, so Logic was making sure he did well in school through all of this. Good, someone had to make sure this wasn’t going well, and who better to notice abnormalities than Logic? No one here, in Princey’s opinion.

Anxiety propped his head upon his hand, humming in thought, “I don’t feel extra anxious or stressed, either. And I’m also not any bigger, so it’s not like I have what you guys are missing… And clearly, judging by your reactions, this hasn’t happened before…”, Anxiety said, lightly tugging on one of his bangs, “Weird. This is all just… so odd. And unexpected…”, Anxiety was clearly trying his best to figure out what was going on, and Creativity nodded.

“Yes, very. Now, we need to figure out how to turn ba-”

A very loud growl startled all four sides, and three turned to the source-

Morality.

The emotional side’s face was flush with embarrassment as he hugged his stomach while it growled much quieter this time, “Sorry…! I haven’t had breakfast yet! I’m hungry!”, Morality exclaimed, then giggling, “Wait, I’m not hungry, I’m dad!”, he snorted at his own joke, while Creativity and Logic groaned and Anxiety stifled a laugh.

Morality smiled as he saw the average-sized-- though in comparison gigantic-- side snicker at his joke, the dark-dressed side sitting up and stretching himself out. “Well, I’m kinda hungry. So I guess we should all have something to eat.”, Anxiety sighed, draping his legs over the couch as he stood up, letting out a loud yawn as he contemplated how the heck he was gonna feed three tiny sides.

((Sorry for the delay! Mobile Tumblr wouldn’t let me post it. But I can on my desktop! Part 3 is almost done, so get ready for that! And let me know if you want to be tagged in my works or this story and definitely ask me questions or send me headcanons about this!))

[darkwing-katy]

Second Chance - Part Six

(No gif because I’m posting from a hotel with crappy wifi…sorry, haha)

So our family vacation is going to throw things off a bit in terms of me posting. I probably will not be able to post on Sunday for the next two weeks, but I’ll still be writing, so when vacay is over, I’ll for sure be a ble to post a few chapters pretty fast. I already know what’s gonna happen in the next few chunks, it’s just writing them and then editing and then posting that’s the time consuming part, haha. Thanks to everyon who’s commented or messaged me and reblogged this story! It’s so amazing to see how much everyone’s enjoying it! Let me know if you wanna be tagged in upcoming chapters!

Also, special thanks to @sannvers for proofing this chunk!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 7,876

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord @elenawrit @the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy @arkhamsnight @imoyu-trashblog @martapetrovic @ciaprincess @juggernaut-jones @admerxin13 @fangirlx26 @epicfallenismine @izzymaria1994 @loveablelulu13 @malfoy-milkovich-royalty @kylorenlover15 @banana-cat @withouthannah @stone0502 @shiroyuki18

Previous Chapter

The problem with living in a gigantic castle full of servants, you found, was that there wasn’t much for you to do besides wander around or read. Oh, sure, the servants were constantly bustling around, either cleaning or cooking or some other chore, but you were used to being productive. You loved reading, but part of the fun of reading was getting chores done in order to read.

It was your only fourth day in the castle, and you were actually bored, lying on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

“How is this even possible?” you asked yourself. Your room gave no response, earning a sigh from you. “I’m lucky. I somehow became friends with someone who fell in love with a prince and now I’m living a fantasy. People would kill to be in my shoes right now.” You sat up. “No wonder Arabella created those elaborate daydreams. She lived in a secluded mansion, and she was probably just as bored as I currently am.”

You could always visit Gaston, the darker voice in your head suggested.

You actually did want to visit him and see if his sleeping had been improved by the pillow. However, whenever you thought about bringing him breakfast, the mental image of him rubbing his thumb across your wrist popped up, making you balk at the idea. You had lain in bed for almost an hour before you’d fallen asleep last night, trying to determine his motives for such an action. Ultimately, you’d came to the conclusion it was not because he had feelings for you, but rather because he was bored and lonely and you were the only human being who took the time to speak with him.

Let’s hold off on that for now, shall we? You stood and began to dress for the day, slowly as your hand was still sore, all the while trying to figure out what to do. “I could read. I could take a long walk around the gardens. I could talk with Mrs. Potts or maybe become friends with some of the others.” Your stomach grumbled. “I could eat—yeah, I’ll definitely do that.” Your dress was now on, and you started brushing your hair. “I could write a letter to Mama and Papa. That might be good. Oh, I wonder if they’ve written me?” You twisted the (Y/H/C) strands into a braid. “But they wouldn’t know I’m living in a castle now, so if they did, the letter would be at the house in Villenueve. Which means I’d have to go there and risk running into LeFou again.”

But why is that a bad thing? You stopped and admired your braid in the mirror. “I guess it isn’t,” you said, replying to your mental question out loud. “It’s just…I don’t know. I feel bad for him.” You shook your head. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with this someday, won’t I? Might as well get it over with now.”

You pulled your boots on and laced them up, decision made. You were going into town for the day, which meant you needed to see if Belle would bring Gaston lunch.

You found her in settled into a chair in the library. Adam was nowhere to be seen, although you were sure he was somewhere nearby.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” Belle said, not looking up from her book.

“Bonjour, Belle. Can I ask a favor?”

This time, she looked at you, forehead crinkled with curiosity. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’m going into town today. I‘ll be back by supper, but I was wondering if you’d maybe bring Gaston some lunch?” You were proud of yourself for not blushing at the request. It seemed like you were finally getting used to the situation. “I’m going to bring him some food before I leave, but I wanted to make sure he’d get something between this morning and this evening.”

Belle smiled warmly at you. “Of course I can do that.”

You grinned back at her. “Thanks. You’re such a great friend, Belle.”

She laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself, (Y/N).” You rolled your eyes, which made her laugh again. “I’m joking. You’re a great friend, too.”

You tossed your hair dramatically. “I know,” you replied with a fake air of pomposity.

Belle raised a brow. “Obviously Gaston’s ego is rubbing off on you,” she said, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes.

You gasped in mock shock. “How dare you say such a thing! I’ve always known I’m a fantastic friend.”

The two of you giggled. Once you’d calmed a bit, you told your best friend farewell and made your way to the kitchen. You waved at Mrs. Potts when you saw her, and she waved back. You grabbed two apples—one for you now, and one for later—then began to pile food onto a plate for Gaston.

“I’ve never seen someone eat so much food as you do,” a small voice said behind you. You turned and saw Chip watching you as you grabbed a full loaf of bread.

“Chip!” Mrs. Potts hissed, clearly mortified at his words. He glanced at her and shrugged.

“What, Mama? I’m just saying!”

She marched over to his side and gave you an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m afraid Chip doesn’t quite understand how rude it is to comment on a person’s eating habits.”

You laughed, fully amused by both Chip’s comment and Mrs. Pott’s reaction. “It’s quite alright. I’m not offended in any way.” You winked at Chip, who grinned at you.

“See, Mama? It’s okay! She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re funny? Is that what you think?” Mrs. Potts rubbed his head affectionately, mussing his hair. “How about you go help Plumette dust for an hour? Then we’ll see who’s the funny one.”

Chip pouted. “Aww, Mama. I hate dusting.”

You took a bite out of your apple while Mrs. Potts chided her son. “That’s what you get for being rude like that. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before saying something!” She gave him a small push. “Off you go.”

Chip trudged off, still pouting. You tried to hide your amusement with the apple, but when Mrs. Potts turned to you, you could see that she was also amused. “I’m so sorry about him,” she apologized again.

“It’s fine, really.” You dropped your apple on the tray and lifted it.

“Do you need any help with that?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.” You smiled at the older woman and exited the dining room. From there, you went up the grand staircase and through the familiar open door that led to the cell.

“Good morning, Gaston!” you called when you were close enough.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” he called back, and you couldn’t resist a wide grin.

You opened the door and sauntered in. Gaston was standing next to the door, ready to take the tray from you. You handed it off to him and remained standing while he sat, not seeming to notice that you weren’t following suit until he glanced back up at you.

“You’re not sitting,” he stated plainly. You shook your head.

“I actually have to leave. I’m going into town today.”

Gaston’s shoulders slumped, indicating his disappointment. “Ah. Might I ask why?”

You smirked at him. “I’ve got a bet to win.”

Immediately, he perked up, a handsome smile stretching across his lips. “I see.”

“Yep.” You saw him pick up the apple you’d bitten into and lifted your hand. “That’s mine.”

His eyes flicked to your raised hand and to the apple, as if he was contemplating taking a bite just to annoy you. You cleared your throat, earning a cheeky wink from him as he tossed the fruit back to you. You caught it in your bad hand and grimaced at the twinge of pain it produced. “How’s your hand?”

“Better.” You tossed the apple to your other hand and flexed your fingers. A good night of sleep had done wonders, but it would still be another day or two before they didn’t hurt.

You thought you heard him mutter, “Good”, but when you looked back at him, he hadn’t moved or given any indication of saying anything. You chose to react as if he hadn’t spoken. “Belle will bring you food later. I’ll be back this evening.”

“Is that a promise?” He was staring at you again with those green eyes. You found yourself nodding but maintaining eye contact.

“Yes. I’ll be back tonight,” you repeated, this time more firm.

He turned back to his food. “I’ll be looking forward to hearing that story about the church, then.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the cell. “You’ll be looking forward to that for a long time,” you replied. His laughter echoed down the steps with you as you left, giving you a warm feeling inside.

You did have a letter from your parents. It was tucked under a rock on the stairs that led to your small cottage. You retrieved the letter but didn’t open it. You wanted to take your time with everything today.

“Oh, there’s dust everywhere.” You stared at the interior of your house and the fine layer of dust that had settled on everything. “Well, I guess I should’ve expected that.” You rolled your shoulders, getting out the small kinks that had formed from riding, then walked over to the small cupboard where you stored your broom.

As you began sweeping your dirty house, you scolded the household items. “Oh, floor. I haven’t even walked on you in a week! Why are you like this? Table, you’re next, so don’t be laughing at the floor.” The familiarity of being home was relaxing, and soon you were singing to yourself. “How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die? It is love we must hold onto, never easy, but we try.”

Hmm, I should say hi to Maurice while I’m here.

“Sometimes our happiness is captured. Somehow a time and place stand still. Love lives on inside our hearts, and always will.”

Despite your initial complaints, the house wasn’t truly that dirty. You’d finished Maurice’s song at the same time you finished sweeping. You replaced the broom and set to work on wiping down the table and chairs, this time humming a peppier tune. You didn’t realize you were humming LeFou’s ode to Gaston until you were nearly done with it, and you paused for a moment.

He really cares about him, doesn’t he? You thought, glancing at the rag in your hand. And here I am, letting him think that Gaston is dead. You sighed and resumed wiping down the fireplace mantel. You needed to tell LeFou the truth. But it can wait a little bit longer.

You effectively killed a couple of hours by cleaning your house. You’d rearranged things a bit, you’d dusted literally everything, and you’d made your bed (which had been unmade all of this time!). You stood back to admire your work. With an appreciative nod, you grabbed the letter from your parents and stuffed it into your satchel, along with a few folded papers containing recipes that you’d stumbled across. You didn’t care if there were servants who could make a cake—you hadn’t baked anything in a long time and when you’d seen the recipe that your grandmother had always used, you’d been struck by a sudden desire to cook again.

You left the house and made your way into town. You passed by the baker, and, after a moment of consideration, bought a small meat pie to snack on. You made a contented sound when you took the first bite. Castle food was perfect, but this pie tasted like home. It tasted like sitting in Belle’s house, laughing with her and Maurice when he spilled paint all over himself. It tasted like sitting in the hills overlooking Villenueve, reading and daydreaming about grand adventures. It tasted familiar and new and wonderful and ordinary all at once.

You were so lost in your memories and the pie that you didn’t notice Peré Robert until you’d nearly run into him. Fortunately, he saw you and stepped out of the way.

“Good day, (Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in a while,” he greeted warmly.

You looked up from your pie. “Oh! Peré Robert! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there!” You held up the pie. “I was too busy enjoying this.”

The older man laughed, prompting a smile from you. “It’s quite alright. How’s the castle? Belle mentioned that you were staying there now.”

“She did?” She must’ve visited him yesterday. “It’s nice. And it’s huge! The Prince has an enormous library filled to the brim with books of all sorts—but I do miss seeing you whenever I want something new to read.”

He laughed again. “Well, I can’t say I’ll ever have quite as many books as the Prince, but you may still borrow any books you’d like from me.”

You grinned. “Thanks.” You turned to walk away, then spun back around. “I have a question, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“Do you know if this town has ever been invaded?”

He frowned as he pondered your question. “I’m not sure. I haven’t lived here all my life, and I can say that there hasn’t been an invasion of any sort since I moved here.” He nodded towards the market, where you could see Monsieur Jean feeding his horses. “Monsieur Jean has lived here all his life. I’m certain he might know.”

You nodded. “Thanks.” He nodded as well, and the two of you parted ways with a wave. You took another bite of the pie before heading towards Monsieur Jean. “Hello, Monsieur Jean!”

“Why, look, it’s (Y/N)! How are you, dear girl? How’s castle life?” The older man smiled at you.

“I’m well, thanks. And castle life is good. Your wife makes the best tea.”

Jean smiled. “Ahh, yes, Beatrice has a special talent when it comes to tea. No matter what kind it is, when she makes it, it’s perfect.” He leaned in close, as if he were to whisper a secret. “She also seems to know what kind of tea will make a situation better. It’s like magic!” He winked, and you were amazed at how different Jean was now that he’d regained his memories. He was always friendly, yes, but now he seemed positively jolly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you moved into the castle yet? I’m sure she’d love to be close to you. And Chip would love to have someone to play with.”

Jean’s smile dimmed. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “They’ve remembered me all this time, but I haven’t remembered them. What if they don’t want to be with me?”

You shook your head. “That’s not the case at all! Trust me.” You gave him a big smile.

The older man face brightened. “Really? Then I shall begin packing tonight!”

You laughed at the older man’s enthusiasm. “I do have a question, though.”

“Fire away, (Y/N)!”

You leaned against one of the stable posts. “Has Villenueve ever been invaded?”

Jean frowned. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that to be your question, but yes.” He sat on a barrel. “It was, oh, probably about fifteen years ago? Before the war.” You worked on eating your pie while he spoke. “There were a few Portuguese invaders—I suppose they were scouting the area for weak spots prior to the war. I don’t know for sure why they attacked, but they did. Perhaps they thought Villenueve was a small village and wouldn’t resist.” He chuckled. “They were quite wrong, of course.” He met your eyes with his. “There’s a reason we all loved Gaston so much, you know.”

You had just eaten the final piece and had to cover your mouth to keep it from falling out as you gasped. “What?!” you exclaimed, not bothering to worry if you were being rude by talking with food in your mouth.

Jean chuckled again. “Oh, yes. He was a young lad then, about sixteen, if memory serves, and he managed to rally us all up. I don’t know how or why he did it, but he did.”

“I’ll tell you why,” a sharp voice cut in. The two of you turned to see Madame Clothilde watching you with a sneer. “It was because of his father, Monsieur Legume. He wanted to show off.”

You stifled a snort at the name. Gaston’s last name is Legume? Why am I just now learning this? I mean, I guess I never cared too much about his last name, but wow. That’s worthy of a tease later.

Clothilde and Jean ignored you. “Now, Madame, we don’t know what happened in that house,” Jean said in an attempt to chide her.

Clothilde rolled her eyes. “I guarantee you, if he’d had a proper mother, then he wouldn’t have done it.”

“Then we would have been destroyed!”

“I’m just saying, it’s not appropriate for a man of that age to take on the responsibility of saving us!”

“Yes, perhaps so, but we’re lucky he did. He was smart and charismatic, and that’s why we survived.”

You coughed. “So…Gaston really did save the village when he was sixteen?”

Jean nodded. “Yes, he did! He saved us all, and then he went off to fight in the war and returned a Captain. Our very own hero. Until, of course, you know…” He trailed off, and the three of you remained in silence as you all remembered that night.

“Do you still think of him that way?” you asked quietly.

Clothilde scoffed and crossed her bony arms over her chest. “He went crazy that night. But he was going crazy before that. He just needed an excuse.”

Jean frowned at the older woman. “I seem to remember you were among the first to follow, Madame.”

She gave him a dirty look. “And I seem to recall you joining in as well, Monsieur.”

You suddenly felt like you needed to defend Gaston’s actions. “Maybe he truly believed that the Beast would harm the villagers. Did you ever consider that, Madame? And since you all considered him the town hero, he felt like it was his duty. His intentions may not have been completely altruistic, but that doesn’t mean you should be calling him crazy!” You felt yourself getting louder as you spoke, but you didn’t care. You knew that his main motives were jealousy and narcissism, but that didn’t give her the right to talk about him like that!

Both Jean and Clothilde were staring at you, mouths agape at your small tirade. You turned to Jean. “I hope to see you at the castle soon. Thank you for your help.” You sensed that Clothilde was preparing to respond to your rant, so you strode away before she could say anything.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” you heard LeFou call from behind. You ignored him, but he easily ran up to you, getting in front of you to force you to stop. “(Y/N),” he repeated.

“What?” you snapped.

“I couldn’t help but overhear—well, you were practically shouting!” he added when you glared at him. “I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying about Gaston.”

“What of it?”

He flinched at your tone, reminding you of a small child. You felt a twinge of regret. “I just thought it was nice of you to defend him like that.” He stood aside to let you pass, but you remained motionless.

“Thanks,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

He clapped your shoulder, sending you forward a little. “Sorry. Do you want to take a walk?”

You nodded, sensing that this might be a good time to tell him the truth about his friend.

He motioned forwards, towards the entrance to the town. “Lead the way.” You started walking, the stout man next to you. “You know you were wrong, though,” he said as you passed the wig store. “About Gaston.”

“Yes.” You caught a glimpse of the three bimbettes through the window, giggling at each other. “I’m well aware that his motivation stemmed from jealousy towards Belle’s affection towards the prince-turned-Beast as well as an unhealthy amount of a hero complex.”

LeFou winced at your words. “Yeah,” he agreed. “So then why did you defend him?”

You had almost reached the entrance. “Because she shouldn’t be so quick to point fingers when she was just as eager to storm the castle as him. And because she shouldn’t call him crazy just because he made a few bad choices.” You considered your words, then added, “Or rather, a lot of bad choices.”

LeFou gave you a perplexed glance. “I thought you hated him,” he said slowly. “Why do you sound as if you pitied him?”

“I hated his actions towards my best friend, but I didn’t hate him as a person. Although I came pretty close once you told me what had transpired between the two of you.” You gave him a sympathetic look. “I know it can’t mean much, coming from me, but I’m sorry he did that to you.”

He smiled at you, clearly grateful. “Thanks.”

There was a silence as you began trekking up a nearby hill. It was early in the afternoon by now, and you loved the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin. I wonder if Gaston can feel the breeze in his tower.

“What’s wrong?” LeFou asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh. I hadn’t realized that.” You tried to smile, but it came out feeling forced. Now’s as good time as any to tell him, right? “LeFou, I have to tell you something.” Without realizing it, you started walking faster. The shorter man sped up to keep at your pace.

“What is it?”

You stopped and turned. You could see part of the village from here, and if you continued to the top, you might be able to see the castle in the distance. “I…” Just tell him already! your mind screamed. “I…you know how you were asking me if I saw Gaston fall?”

LeFou stopped walking. “Yes,” he said carefully, watching you.

Tell him! “What if I told you that I did?”

Emotions ran across LeFou’s face. Confusion, relief, fear, despair, and others that you couldn’t identify. “What?” he asked dumbly.

You sighed and started playing with your braid, unsure how to proceed but knowing you needed to. “I…you told us where he was, and Belle and I got separated. He was on a bridge between towers, and he shot the Beast. Then he fell.” You took a deep breath. “I tried to save him, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

You glanced at LeFou to see his reaction. His eyes had tears in them, but he seemed to be keeping them confined to his eyes. “So…he’s dead, then,” he mumbled, looking at the grass in despair.

“Not exactly.”

His head snapped up so fast you heard his neck pop. “What?!”

Your fingers were starting to tug apart your braid and rebraid it. “He did die, but…he’s not dead now, if that makes sense.”

“(Y/N), what are you talking about?”

A light breeze caressed you, almost as if it was encouraging you. You forced yourself to look LeFou in his dark brown eyes. The wind tossed his hair around, and he was watching you intently, hope and desperation evident on his face.

Just do it!

“He’s in a cell in one of the towers,” you finally confessed. “The Enchantress that cursed the Beast appeared to me and offered a second chance at saving him. Uhm, I took it, and I got there in time and I saved him and now he’s locked up and no one knows about it except the Prince, Belle, and myself. And you, I guess.”

LeFou opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I’m sorry. I’m confused. You said that Gaston died, and now you’re telling me he’s alive?”

You cringed. “Yes?”

LeFou took a moment to process your words. He ran his hand through his hair as he contemplated the veracity of what you were saying. “Let’s say I did believe you. Why would you of all people bother saving him?”

It took a minute for your brain to realize he was doubting you. You dropped your braid, slightly frustrated. “Because I care about him!” you exclaimed. Immediately, you threw your hands over your mouth, but it was too late. You’d already admitted it. At least you didn’t say that you love him. That would be bad.

“You do?” the shorter man asked softly.

“Just because I’m not as obvious as you with my affections doesn’t mean it’s not there.” You hadn’t meant it to sound as cold as it did, and you regretted it. LeFou’s face hardened, though his eyes were still teary. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed. But at least his eyes softened at your apology. He sighed, inhaling deeply with his next breath, and then his face broke into a small smile. “But Gaston is alive?”

You returned the smile. “Yeah. He is. Alive and as annoyingly flirtatious as ever.”

He laughed loudly at that statement, and you saw a few tears break free. “Well, that’s Gaston for you. He never knows when to turn it off.”

You shook your head. “No, no he doesn’t.”

Another breeze brushed past the both of you, rustling hair and clothes. “Wait,” LeFou suddenly piped up. “The other night. Why didn’t you tell me he was alive then?”

Because I was afraid? Because I’m selfish? Because I didn’t think it was important? “I don’t know.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you deserve to know.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I should’ve told you then, but I was afraid. When I saved him, I asked Adam—the prince—to keep it quiet.” You sighed. “I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea. Sooner or later, people are going to find out, and I don’t know what I’ll do then.” You waved a hand towards town. “I don’t know how they’ll react. I made an impulse decision and now I’m dealing with the consequences.”

“Do you regret it?”

You shook your head rapidly. “No! Not once.” You thought for a moment. “Well, okay, I came close once you’d told me what he’d done to you.”

LeFou’s eyes widened. “You stormed off. I didn’t think too much of it, but I remember you storming off.” He frowned. “What happened?”

“I yelled at him. And then I punched him.” You held up your bruised hand. “Didn’t do as much damage as I’d hoped, but it felt good.”

LeFou snorted. “I bet it did.” He crossed his arms and shook his head slowly. “I was right, then.”

You cocked your head and furrowed your brow. “About what?” you asked, curious.

The breeze knocked a few strands of hair into his face. He tossed his head to clear his mouth of the hair. “There’s something between you two.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off. “You’re talking about him as if you consider him a friend, even after everything he’s done. You told me just now that you care for him.” He began ticking off his fingers. “Then there’s the obvious tension between you two, the fact that he complained about you as often, if not more, than he talked about Belle….There’s something there.”

You blushed. “No, I’m afraid you’re wrong.” You glanced at the sky. The sun was bright, forcing you to squint. “I mean, I’ll confess that I feel affection for him, but it’s one-sided.” You smiled sadly to yourself. “Even if he acts a little less boorish than he used to. I think it’s because he’s bored. I’m the only one that spends time with him, you see.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw LeFou shaking his head, his nose crinkled in disagreement. “He let you punch him. It’s one thing if it’s playful and flirty, but I’m assuming it was anything but that.” He grimaced. “Not that he’d hit a woman back, but he has a temper, and he wouldn’t just take it.”

“He was probably thrown off by how furious I was,” you muttered.

“That’s the thing. Why would your anger throw him off if he didn’t care about your opinion? If you were just the woman who kept Belle away from him, your anger wouldn’t mean anything.” A cloud covered the sun, shading everything for a few minutes. “There’s a thing there. Apparently it’s an unspoken thing, but it’s there nonetheless.”

You laughed in an attempt to dissuade LeFou. “I’m telling you it’s one-sided. I like him, he’s bored, and Belle is no longer an option. There is no unspoken thing.”

He shrugged, clearly not believing you. “So then what’s he doing right now?”

“Well, Belle probably brought him some food for lunch. Usually, I do that, but since I came to town today…” You stretched your arms out. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s reading?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to visit?”

LeFou pursed his lips. “I do. Believe me, I do. But I also don’t, you know?” You nodded. “I don’t even know if we’re still friends after what happened.”

“You could always wait a few days.” You chose your next words with care, not wanting to offend him. “It would give you a chance to work out how you feel towards him. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to love someone who used and abandoned you like that.” You placed a hesitant hand on LeFou’s shoulder. “You have time.”

“Do I? How long will he be there?”

“I have no clue. Like I said, it was an impulsive decision, and I’m beginning to see how much I didn’t think this through.”

“Fair enough.”

You returned to the castle feeling much better than you had when you’d left. Being busy all day had done wonders for your mentality, and the added benefit of LeFou knowing the truth about Gaston had alleviated a vast chunk of your guilt. You hadn’t expected him to be as sweet as he was, and while that made you more angry at Gaston for how he’d treated LeFou, you also had realized that LeFou was tough underneath his nice exterior. The two of you had talked for quite some time about how to evaluate the villagers’ potential reactions to Gaston being alive. You’d also spent some time catching up with Maurice, but that had been much more brief as suppertime approached. You’d finally told the older man farewell with a hug. When you’d stepped up onto your horse, you’d been surprised by LeFou bringing you a giant satchel filled with some of Gaston’s clothing. You weren’t sure if you were going to give them to him yet, but it was considerate of his loyal friend to give them to you.

You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to see Gaston until you reached the castle. You smiled at the servants as you ran into the dining room, this time grabbing enough food for the both of you so you could eat with him instead of having to wait any longer.

“Well, look who’s back,” came Gaston’s cheerful voice as you reached the top of the stairs.

You rolled your eyes, although you knew he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Did you miss me?” you asked as you reached the cell door. He jumped up and approached you as you pulled the lever while balancing the full tray on your arm. Once the door was open, he repeated his action of taking the tray from you, which brought a smile to your face. How gentlemanly of him, you thought. You noticed that his ponytail had been retied, though it wasn’t as styled as usual, so now he looked more like his old self instead of a prisoner.

“Why? Did you miss me?” he asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

You made a face at his words, even though they were true. “Not at all,” you lied. “Did Belle come up?”

“Oh, yes. She brought me lunch, and we spent some time talking. She wasn’t quite so focused on my crimes as she was yesterday.” He eyed the tray. “Are you planning on joining me this time? There’s more food than usual.”

You couldn’t confirm vocally because that would indicate that you did indeed miss him, so instead you grabbed a bowl and leaned against the wall. “Did you enjoy your conversation?” you asked, trying to keep the subject on Belle.

Gaston grinned, showing all of his perfect teeth. You gave a mental swoon at the sight. “I always enjoy conversations with gorgeous women.”

Something about the way he said that sent a small surge of jealousy into your chest. You felt bad about it, knowing that it was caused by his obvious feelings for your best friend who didn’t reciprocate, but the jealousy was still there.

It must’ve shown in your face because his grin dimmed slightly. “What?” he asked, sounding unsure at your reaction. You didn’t answer. His next comment only added to your frustration: “I meant that as a compliment!”

You tried not to give him any proof of your feelings, instead raising the bowl to your lips and slurping some of the soup. As usual, he didn’t take the hint.

“Are you jealous of Belle?”

Damn, that was perceptive of him. You felt your face heat up, which was furthered when Gaston laughed. It wasn’t a mean laugh, but it hurt nonetheless.

“You are, aren’t you? You’re jealous.” He sauntered over to you and gave you a playful punch to your shoulder. “Admit it, (Y/N).”

You scoffed, and he poked you. “I’m not jealous. Of course you would assume that,” you denied, sliding down the wall. He followed suit, still holding the tray. His shoulder brushed against yours when he reached the ground, pushing you a little. Automatically, you pushed back with your shoulder, careful not to spill your soup. “I’m just hungry. And possibly a little concerned that once again, you’ve made this all about you.”

He blew a tuft of air out of his nose in mock disdain and set the tray down. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

You slurped some more of your soup and waited patiently until he’d picked up his bowl and started eating. Then, with a smirk, you continued. “Did too.”

Gaston, not expecting your comment, made a choking sound and nearly dropped his bowl. “Mon dieu, woman, you’re stubborn!” he exclaimed, wiping his chin and glaring at you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was a coy manner. “It’s not my fault you assumed you’d won just because I stopped. You should know better by now.” You lifted your bowl to your lips. “Besides, out of the two of us, you’re clearly the more stubborn one.”

Gaston huffed. “I’m not stubborn. I’m determined. I refuse to give up until I’ve won. If anyone’s stubborn, it’s you, (Y/N).”

You raised an eyebrow. “Alright. I’ll admit it if you do.” His eyes narrowed, but he was smiling, so you continued. “I’m stubborn. Your turn.”

He laughed. “Well, I am a man of honor, so I’ll admit that perhaps I have times when I’m stubborn.” He turned his body to better see you, brushing your shoulder again in the process. “Now, I believe you have an entertaining tale to tell me.”

You frowned. What is he talking about? you wondered. It’s not like he would know about what happened in town today…

“Did you inquire about whether Villenueve was attacked?” He grinned, radiating that familiar cockiness you so loved.

Oh. That. You cleared your throat in an attempt to buy time. His grin grew wider, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And to be honest, he probably did. “I did,” you admitted, feeling your blush creep further up your cheeks.

“And?”

Is this what a bird in a cage feels like when a cat is watching it? “And…there was mention of a young man who rallied everyone against some invaders…”

“Did you happen to learn this dashing young lad’s name?” He took a bite of bread while he waited for your answer.

You muttered his name in as unintelligible a manner as you could.

“I’m sorry, what was that name again?”

You sighed, knowing the game was up and that he’d won. “Gaston,” you repeated louder.

Somehow, his grin grew more. “Again, please?” he purred, leaning in.

“Gaston!” you said, this time loud enough that he couldn’t feign deafness as a way of getting you to repeat it. Your cheeks were on fire, the warmth making its way down your neck as well.

He leaned back with that aggravatingly attractive smirk on his face. “I believe that earns me a story from you,” he said, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms over his stomach.

“It’s not that interesting, I promise you.”

“Don’t care. I still want to hear it.” He rested his head against the wall, green eyes glittering with triumph.

You sighed again and turned to face him, setting the bowl down next to you. “Fine.” You leaned against your part of the wall. “I was sixteen, and we were attending mass. I stumbled against a loose stone and grabbed onto the nearest object to stable myself. Unfortunately, that object ended up being a candelabra, which is not stable in any way, and it fell over.” You felt the corners of your mouth curve up as you relieved the memory. “It caught a tablecloth on fire before one of the altar boys rushed over to stomp it out. I thought my papa was going to kill me when we got home.” Your eyes drifted to the stones in the wall across from you, though you could still clearly see Gaston out of your peripheral. “He wasn’t happy, but when Mama started laughing about it, he did, too, and I didn’t get in trouble.”

Gaston shifted, but he didn’t interrupt.

“She always brings out the laughter in him. I don’t know how she does it, but Mama just makes everyone smile. Papa is very serious most of the time, then she’ll say something absolutely ridiculous and he smiles and it’s wonderful.” Your eyes wandered to the floor. “She taught me to read, you know. Papa wasn’t overly fond of it, but he didn’t oppose it, which I suppose I should be grateful for. He did oppose me moving here by myself, but Mama managed to convince him that I would be fine.”

“You moved here shortly after Belle and Maurice did,” Gaston said, pulling you from your reverie.

You looked at him and nodded. “Yes.” Suddenly, you were curious. “And where did the great Gaston come from?”

He gave you an odd look. “Why, Villenueve, of course.”

You sensed some hesitation from him, but you decided to press on. “And your family?”

He didn’t respond right away, which made you wonder if you were being too nosy. Finally, he shrugged. “I never knew my mother—she died giving birth to me. As for my father…well…” You thought he wasn’t going to finish, but after another moment, he continued. “My father was a hunter.”

“Is he the one who taught you how to hunt?”

The corners of his mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Yes. He taught me everything I know.”

You thought back to all the times you’d heard someone compliment Gaston’s hunting prowess. “He must be a great hunter, then.”

Gaston sneered. “He was a great hunter. I’m better.”

From his tone, you got the sense that things between Gaston and his father had been tense. I wonder why. “‘Was’? Does that mean he’s dead?”

“He died while I was fighting in the War.”

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be. There was no love lost between us.”

You frowned, not sure how to react to that statement. Of course, you knew that not everyone has a happy relationship with their parents, but you’d never experienced it firsthand. You knew that your father loved you, and he wanted what he thought was best for you. The same went for Maurice—he and Belle were a close family, one you’d been fortunate to be allowed into. For someone to not experience that with either of their parents was disturbing.

“What?” Gaston asked, shifting and catching your attention.

You shook your head. “What?”

“You’re thinking, I can see it in your eyes.” His mouth twitched. “That’s a dangerous pastime, you know.”

The seriousness broken, you shook your head. “Oh, shut it.” But you were smiling again.

“Dare I ask what you were thinking about?”

You shrugged. “Just about how different families can be.” Suddenly, you remembered the letter from your parents. I almost forgot about that!

“Forgot about what?”

Did I say that out loud? Whoops. “I received a letter from my parents, but I never read it. I’ll read it later, I guess.”

“That’s…nice.” Gaston grabbed a clump of grapes from the tray and began to toss them into his mouth. This time he managed to catch every single one with ease.

You watched him toss three grapes and catch them before blurting, “I saw LeFou today.”

“Oh?” If you’d thought that would throw Gaston’s grape-catching abilities off, you’d been mistaken. “How is he?”

“Do you actually care or are you just asking because it’s what people expect?” You would rather not get into another argument about his treatment of his friend, but you had to know.

Gaston caught the next grape in his hand. “Why must you do that?” he asked, his voice a mixture of whiny and frustrated.

You felt your forehead furrow in confusion at his question. “Do what?”

He threw the grape from hand to hand. “Make it sound like I’m heartless and selfish.”

Maybe because you are heartless and selfish? You almost replied, but held your tongue.

“I’m not. You may think it, Belle may think it, hell, even LeFou may think it now, but I’m not.” He scowled, pausing in his grape-throwing. “I did what I had to do. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about him.”

You pursed your lips. “You didn’t have to do it, though. Why didn’t you help him and then go after the Beast?”

His arm suddenly drew back to throw the grape. You flinched, half expecting him to throw it at you in anger. He didn’t, instead throwing it out the open door of his cell. “Why does it matter?” he growled the last word. “I did what I did! Why must we keep going around in circles talking about it?”

“Because I’m trying to get you to see how wrong you were!” you snapped back, your own temper flaring. “It doesn’t matter if you thought it was the right thing to do! You don’t seem to understand how it’s affected the people around you. LeFou was heartbroken over your betrayal! You killed the Prince, which hurt my friend! Not to mention you led a town in an attack against the people they love and care about who were cursed—nevermind that they’d forgotten about them and that they were random items at that point!” You leaned forward, staring him down, hoping desperately that maybe something you’d say would actually get through that thick skull of his. “You did it, and you did it for selfish reasons, and until you realize that, yes, I’m going to keep questioning your motives and calling you out on them.” His eyes, lit with fury, glared into yours. “So maybe you should actually take the time to think about the consequences of your actions instead of trying to justify them!”

His jaw clenched. He lifted one arm to indicate the cell. “Do you honestly think I haven’t thought about that, (Y/N)? I’m locked up—already damned for my actions. The Prince could have me executed at any time, something that I’m well aware of!”

His words were like ice to your heated emotions. Before they could cool you down completely, though, you yelled your reply: “But he won’t!”

Gaston scoffed. “And how do you know that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I asked him¸ you idiot!”

Silence fell upon both of you at your declaration. You crossed your arms, mirroring Gaston, allowing your anger to simmer off. You were still glaring at him, daring him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat there, radiating his own anger.

As one minute passed, then two minutes, then five minutes passed in that tense silence, you felt yourself cooling down. He thought he was going to be killed any day. It hadn’t occurred to you to tell him that he wouldn’t be; once Adam had reassured you, you had let it vanish from your mind. Yet here Gaston had been for four days, each day wondering if you were bringing him his last meal. His flirtatious attitude had been a façade hiding his true fear.

So then why does he insist on acting like he doesn’t regret anything? Why does he keep up the narcissistic attitude?

Eventually, his jaw released and he exhaled deeply.

“I should’ve told you. I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that you’d be worried about that.” On impulse, you reached forward and put a hand on his calf. You hoped it came across as reassuring. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes flicked to your hand and back to your face. You couldn’t read the emotions on his face; he kept it schooled. But then he sighed again, and you felt his entire body relax. “Why did you ask him in the first place?” he asked.

Because I didn’t want to watch you die again. “Because I wanted to know what would happen to you,” you admitted softly.

“Why?”

“Because, Gaston, I don’t think you deserve to die just because you made a few bad choices.” You released his calf and stood. He was watching you, a funny look on his face, but he didn’t seem like he had anything more to say. You brushed off your skirt. “LeFou is okay, by the way. I told him you were alive and that he could visit if he wanted, when he’s ready.” You began to make your way to the door. “He’s happy you’re alive.”

As you passed Gaston, his hand reached up to grab your wrist. He gave it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. Though he didn’t say anything, you felt as if he was trying to convey some sort of apology and thanks to you by that one touch.

You got to the door and closed it behind you. With a final look at the man in the cell, you added, “For the record, I’m happy you’re alive, too.”

“That makes three of us, I guess,” he muttered. You felt your mouth twitch.

“Good night, Gaston.”

“Good night, (Y/N).”

Next Chapter

[theartofbeinganerd]

First up from my collection of one shots is a fic very near and dear to my heart, written back during the post Season 2 summer hiatus when everyone was trying to figure out what the hell the monolith had done to Jemma - and back before we knew anything about Season 3. I’d actually been thinking about this one a lot lately, given the current storyline, so I figured I’d start with it. Enjoy!

-

Fitz nearly had to throw himself against the wall as yet another of Skye’s new powered recruits came barreling down the hall, barely throwing an apology over his shoulder as he chased after his friend, playing some kind of stupid powered people hide-and-seek or tag or whatever the hell that was.

Rolling his eyes, Fitz muttered under his breath, “Honestly, this is a government facility, not a playground.” Immediately, he grimaced at himself, and knew if Skye had been anywhere nearby to overhear, she would have been in stitches over his unintentional joke.

It seemed the base was full to bursting these days with the Inhumans Skye and Coulson were recruiting and the new group of agents that had joined them when they’d combined with the “other SHIELD”, and Fitz was finding himself seriously missing the Bus and their tiny team. Being at the Playground with all these new, strange people was making him claustrophobic and that was something Fitz was absolutely not okay with, not after being stuck in a box at the bottom of the ocean, thank you very much.

Fitz finally reached the kitchen, and let out a sigh of relief when he found it blissfully and unusually empty, but he wasn’t about to complain about his fortune. He set about starting his tea, allowing his hands to go through the motions on auto-pilot as he puzzled over his latest assignment from Coulson in the lab.

In no time, his tea was finished and he went to take a sip, but frowned and pulled the mug away from his mouth when there wasn’t even a tiny bit of sugar, which was a must for him, and there was a tad too much milk for his tastes. But, Fitz had prepared tea for himself thousands of times, and knew the routine like the back of his hand, so what had happened?

Frowning at himself and writing it off as being stressed by all the interlopers in the base, he simply dumped some sugar in and would deal with the extra milk. He was just taking his first sip when Skye entered the kitchen. “Hey Fitz,” she greeted, throwing him a smile as she grabbed a water bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a sip. “What’s with the look?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Fitz answered, shrugging. “I just made my tea weird by accident.”

Skye’s eyebrow darted up at that. “You ruined tea? How is that possible?” She gave him a teasing little grin, but it didn’t completely reach her eyes, and Fitz forgot about his tea issue as worry for his friend dominated his thoughts.

“How are you, Skye?” he asked, his tone implying that he knew very well that something was wrong.

Skye sighed, pursing her lips, then shook her head. “I’m fine, Fitz. Just…worried about all the Inhumans we aren’t getting to, and what’s happening to them.” She forced a smile and shrugged. “But, Coulson and I are looking into it, so it’s only a matter of time, really.” Curiously, she asked, “How are you doing with the power studies?”

Fitz made a face at the sore subject Skye had unintentionally broached. “Ugh, I’d be doing a hell of a lot better if I had a competent partner that actually understood biology.” He shook his head, disgusted with the scientists he’d had to share his lab with. “Honestly, where did SHIELD find them?”

Skye made a sympathetic noise, reaching over to give his arm a quick squeeze. “Yeah, I know, you’re always complaining about them. But, I guess all the geniuses in the biology field were either HYDRA or…well, are not available anymore. We’ll have to make do with our resident genius, even if he’s only an engineer.”

“Only an engineer?” Fitz repeated, mock-flabbergasted. “I’ll have you know –”

“Yeah yeah yeah, your IQ is higher than all of ours combined and you know more than anyone here, blah blah blah.” Skye grinned at him to soften her teasing words. “Too bad we’re all too dumb to understand your nerd-speak, Fitz.”

“Too bad,” Fitz agreed, his lips twisting into a wistful frown as he wondered what it’d be like to have someone around here that actually understood more than just a fraction of what he was saying – what it would be like not to have to hold back on his intelligence, especially now that he was able to get it from his brain to his mouth so much easier these days.

For a moment, there was a brush at the back of his mind that told him he was being ridiculous, and that he did know what it was like. But, Fitz shook that off because even when he’d been at SHIELD Academy, a gathering of the most brilliant minds in the world, he’d been the youngest to ever pass through its doors, and eventually he’d found that had also meant the brightest. During his time there, he hadn’t met a single soul that was quite on his level, and he’d continued to keep to himself, even into his years in SciOps. It wasn’t until he’d been dragged into the field on Coulson’s team that he’d finally started to open up and make real friends, not forced acquaintances.

Skye gave his arm another pat, paired with a warm, slightly apologetic smile. “I’ve gotta go have a chat with the recruits, but…” She paused, her lips pulling down at the corners at bit. “Well, it was nice talking with you, Fitz. We need to do it more often. I miss you.”

Fitz covered her hand with his, giving it a quick squeeze. “I miss you too, Skye. But, you’re doing something important, and we don’t have much time to loaf around and chitchat, do we?”

“But we need to make time, okay?” She held his gaze, her eyes equal parts pleading and sorrowful, and Fitz’s heart went out to her in empathy. They’d been the first family Skye ever had, and she’d been one of his first – if not his first – real friends.

“Okay,” he agreed simply, and he was rewarded with a brilliant smile. He returned it with a small smile of his own, and she left the kitchen. Fitz’s tea had gone a bit cold during their conversation, but he didn’t feel bad dumping it, because it hadn’t tasted quite right anyway. With a sigh, Fitz decided it was time to stop avoiding the incompetent scientists he was forced to work with and headed back to the lab. Honestly, even when he was at the lowest while readjusting after his brain injury, he could’ve kicked any of their asses at any scientific endeavor.

He was so focused on his internal grumblings about the others in the lab, he almost missed the fact that the door to the storage room was open, but then he registered that something was off and paused, turning back. Sure enough, it was wide open.

Frowning, Fitz moved back over and peered inside. It was empty, save for a few crates here and there, and the sealed glass case dominating the room with the weird monolith that Skye and her Inhuman friends stayed far away from. That was why the door was always closed – they didn’t even like looking at it, half the time. They still didn’t know what it did, beyond being created to destroy the Inhumans, so he didn’t really blame them for wanting to avoid it.

Shrugging it off, Fitz closed the door and continued on his way to the lab. He felt a wave of pure relief when he saw that none of the other scientists were in there, and he quickly moved over to his bench to try and get some work done in peace and quiet for as long as he had it.

He’d barely been working for more than a few minutes when he heard a soft, oddly breathless call of, “Fitz?”

He didn’t recognize the voice, even though there was a tickle at the back of his brain that said he should, and Fitz turned to face the person who’d spoken. He didn’t recognize her, either, but that hardly mattered these days – there were so many new faces coming and going from the base, Fitz couldn’t actually be expected to keep track of everyone.

However, Fitz knew he’d never met this particular woman before, because he would certainly remember those large, expressive brown eyes that seemed to shine in the dim lighting of the lab, the pretty pink lips parted as she sucked in a breath, and the dark hair that fell in soft waves around her beautiful face.

“Uh…” Fitz wasn’t really sure what to say, how this woman even knew his name. “Hello?” he tried, frowning a bit at his lack of finesse.

She made a small, choked sound almost like a sob, and Fitz was alarmed to find that tears were beginning to fall down her cheeks. “Oh my god. Fitz…” She took a step closer, and he noticed that her hands were curling and uncurling into fists at her sides. “I can’t believe…”

“Er…” He really didn’t know what was happening right now, even though he had the ridiculous feeling that he should, and didn’t want to rain on this pretty girl’s parade, but… “I’m sorry, do we…do we know each other?”

And then, he watched as her expression told him very plainly that her heart was absolutely breaking in her chest, and Fitz was overwhelmed with the need to rush forward and pull her into his arms and hold her together before she broke apart. But, he held himself still, unable to believe that his simple question could cause such a reaction.

“Fitz, please,” she whispered, shaking her head slowly in palpable disbelief. “It’s me. It’s Jemma.”

Fitz squinted in concentration, thinking back to if he’d ever met someone named Jemma before. “I’m sorry, Jemma, but…I think you’re making a mistake. We’ve never met before.”

Her hand flew up to her mouth to try and cover for a broken sob as her eyes briefly fell shut. “Oh god,” he just barely heard her whisper, “Please please no, please don’t take him away from me.”

Fitz shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the door to the lab and the empty hallway outside it. The longer and longer their interaction went on, the more Fitz wondered who she really was and how she’d even gotten into the base. “I’m sorry, um…Jemma, but…would you like me to take you to Director Coulson? He’s actually here today, and I’m sure he could help you figure things out if you’re confused.”

“I’m not confused!” she burst out, surprising him. Her eyes narrowed around her tears, and her expression was suddenly fierce and determined, and for some reason, Fitz’s heart warmed a bit at the sight, which was absurd. “You’re confused! We’ve been friends for a decade, Leopold Fitz! For god’s sake, you sacrificed your life for me last year, whether I wished you to or not!”

Fitz’s face scrunched up a bit at his full name, and he was a tad concerned that this strange woman knew it, but there were more pressing concerns right now. “I most certainly did not. And I haven’t had a friend for a decade. My first real friend was Skye, and I just met her two years ago.”

Jemma’s confidence faltered a bit, and she repeated quietly, her voice nearly breaking, “Skye? Skye was your first friend? Oh Fitz, what would you have done without me?”

“Well, I think I did just fine, given that I didn’t have you…” Fitz trailed off at that, giving an awkward little shrug, and more than ready for this weird conversation to be over. “I’m really sorry, miss, but um…I don’t know you, and I’m pretty sure nothing you say is going to suddenly make me believe I do, so…”

Her eyes lit up, her determination back, and it was almost as if he’d just issued a challenge to her – which he hadn’t. At least not intentionally. She took a few more steps closer, and Fitz automatically tried to step back, but his back hit his workbench. Then, Jemma was right in front of him, scant inches between them, her chin tilted up to attempt to bridge the distance between their heights. “If anything will make you remember me, it’s this: I know you’re in love with me, Fitz. I know that it’s hurt you so much over the past year and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it all out, but I just needed time – you know how I am – and I’m ready to admit it. I’m in love with you too, Fitz.”

Fitz felt something tugging at his heart as he listened to her impassioned speech, and his stomach swooped a bit as though he was excited, but he was more predominantly bewildered that this woman he’d just met a few minutes ago was confessing her love to him and now watching him expectantly as though he was supposed to shout with joy and take her into his arms. “I hate to say this but…yeah, I still don’t know who you are.” His tone was apologetic, because she’d just said she loved him so he tried his hardest not to be rude to her, but he also wasn’t going to lie to her.

For a brief moment, her expression was absolutely crushed and Fitz’s heart went out to her because he knew how it felt to love someone who didn’t love you back (wait – no he didn’t, why was he thinking that he did?) but then her face hardened and she gave a sharp little nod as though agreeing with herself on something, and Fitz was a bit worried. “Alright, you’re leaving me no choice, then…” With that as his only warning, her hands came up to hold either side of his face and she pulled down him in a flash of movement, pressing her lips against his.

His first thought through his complete shock was that she had incredibly nice lips, soft and warm and pliant beneath his, but then his utter disbelief won out and he was staring down at her, his eyes huge. Hers were clenched tightly shut, as though she was willing for something to happen with all her heart. He tried to pull back, no matter how nice her lips were, but she held fast, pushing her mouth more insistently against his.

Fitz let out a little gasp of shock at the strange woman’s incredibly blunt and frankly uncomfortable advance on him, but then her lips parted as well, and they shared a breath and Fitz was hit with a thousand memories, and it felt almost like he was falling into the ocean in that stupid pod all over again – and this time, she was there.

Every single memory he’d had since the day he arrived at SHIELD Academy shifted and changed to include the woman pressing so desperately against him, and Fitz remembered that she was an absolute bloody genius and she would never admit it but she was afraid of what she didn’t understand and she liked her tea with milk but no sugar and when she smiled just right her nose wrinkled and that she had the most beautiful laugh and she held him when he had his occasional breakdowns and she understood him better than anyone in the world ever had. His entire world reshaped and shifted to recreate itself around her, for the second time in his life – only it was much less gradual than the first time around and the overwhelming love he felt for her crashed into him, striking him breathless.

“Jemma,” he gasped against her mouth, his hands coming up automatically to clutch at her hips, tugging her closer until there was no space between them and he remembered the words maybe there is and his stumbled invitation to dinner and then, for some reason, she’d disappeared and he hadn’t even bloody noticed and somehow his life had kept going and somehow he’d actually managed to forget her and somehow the world hadn’t stopped turning. Fitz’s heart ached as he wondered what the hell had happened and where she’d been and he immediately felt the urge to apologize for forgetting the most important person in the world.

“Fitz,” she responded, her hands shifting to the back of his head, her fingers clenching in his hair and pulling him closer and he was so overjoyed to have her back even if he hadn’t known she was gone that he barely realized the dream he’d had for so long was coming true and Jemma Simmons was kissing him – until she slanted her lips over his to deepen the kiss, her tongue sliding along his without an ounce of shyness, her curves melding to his body as though she never wanted them to part. He’d be inclined to agree.

He let out a groan at the feel of her, at how familiar and right it felt to have her this close and her mouth pressed against his, and he was more in love with her than he ever had been – not because of the kiss (though that certainly didn’t hurt) but because every single bit of the love he’d forgotten he had for her had just erupted inside of him all at the same time. It was almost as though she couldn’t possibly be real, and he was holding the stars or the sun and it was burning him up inside that he was experiencing such a privilege.

Eventually, they had to part to breathe properly, and even though Fitz was panting for breath, he used however much he had to whisper over and over again, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” as he pressed kisses all over her face, to every available inch of skin he could reach, trying to show her just how much it was tearing him apart.

“Shhh,” Jemma shushed him soothingly, her hands sliding back around to cup his cheeks, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “It’s okay, Fitz. It’s not your fault. It was the monolith.”

“I can’t believe I could ever forget you,” he mumbled against her forehead, barely registering that she’d even spoken, too caught up in his apologies. “Jemma, you have to know, you’re the most important thing in my life. I don’t know how… I’m so sorry.”

“Fitz.” Her voice was firm, and Fitz automatically responded to it, his mind connecting the tone with ‘shut up and listen, Fitz’ as his eyes sought hers out. “This was not your fault. You had no choice in the matter. When the monolith pulled me inside of it, it very thoroughly erased me from existence, and that includes from your thoughts. I…I wasn’t fully prepared for it – I knew it was what had happened, but when you said you didn’t remember me, it just…hurt a lot more than I was expecting it to. After spending so long thinking about you and how to get back to you and everything I suddenly realized that I needed to tell you, only for you to not remember who I even was…” Her bottom lip trembled, and she shook her head rapidly. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. Honestly, I’m not even sure how kissing you worked, but I was out of ideas and I figured that even if you never remembered me, I at least wanted to know what it would feel like and –”

“Jemma,” he cut in, finally bringing an end to the rambling he knew she only succumbed to when she was upset or nervous. “Let’s just…start at the beginning. The monolith did what?”

Jemma released a long sigh, giving another shake of her head. “I’ll get to all that later. I promise. But the monolith is the very last thing I want to think about right now.” She stared up at him, her wide, shining eyes pleading with him and Fitz would be damned before he ever refused Jemma Simmons a thing in this world.

“Alright,” he agreed, like he always did. “We’ll…talk about something else. Like…” Now that he could think back over their earlier conversation with the clarity of mind to remember everything, his thoughts stuck on the confession she’d made to try and bring his memories of her back. But, at the last moment, he chickened out of asking her about it and simply said, “Did you know Skye’s leading a team of Inhumans?” It was honestly the stupidest thing he could’ve said just then, and he was mentally slapping himself because he was learning to be braver, but apparently still not where it counted.

Jemma’s lips quirked up in a small smile, and then she proved just how well she knew him. “I meant it, Fitz. I wasn’t just saying it to try and force your memories back. It took a lot of overanalyzing and agonizing over how I felt to finally figure it out but –”

Before she could get the words out, Fitz blurted them out first because he’d always pictured being the first to say them, and it didn’t count when he didn’t even remember how he felt in the first place. “I love you, Jemma.”

She gave that adorable little laugh he loved, her nose wrinkling with it, and her face lit up, her hands gently caressing his cheeks, her palms catching on the stubble along his jaw. “Oh Fitz. I love you too.”

And he knew this was far from over because they still had so much to talk about and work out, and there was the issue of her likely still being erased from existence everywhere else but his mind, and whatever the hell had happened with the monolith but just then, everything in the world was exactly as it should be.

[plotlinehotline]

Hi :-) Thank you so much for all your posts. I would like to know how can I show a character is smiling in a dialogue without saying that (so I haven´t to repeat again and again the word ``smiled´´ or ``grimaced´´) Thank you!

Context is everything. If you’re writing a conversation where two characters are sharing something pleasant, whether it’s joking or good news or nostalgia, readers can usually infer a facial expression. You might include a laugh, a smile, a brightness in their eyes, or even a gesture of affection like a hand on another hand, or a leg, a shoulder, but sometimes it’s best to let the dialogue speak for itself without too many interjections surrounding it. 

Think of it this way - if you attach a facial expression, or a body movement, or a tonal description (like an adverb when a character may speak slowly, quickly, tiredly, loudly, ect.) to every line of dialogue, a reader pauses between each line to read these. And the conversation ends up with beats before each character says their line, taking away the flow of a natural conversation. 

Instead, insert these descriptors where there are natural pauses. I bet if you limit yourself to only including a descriptor when there’s a pause in conversation, you’ll find yourself using way less smiles and grimaces. 

I’m not considering basic tags like “he said, she said” as descriptors. These are sometimes necessary to identify speakers, and readers barely even notice them. It’s when you expand on them that it becomes intrusive. 

So this is step one. Limit how much you’re using any kind of descriptor. 

Step two: find the places where they’ll have the most impact. 

If you’ve got two characters bantering back and forth, save the smile descriptor for the biggest punchline. When the funniest jab is uttered, that’s when you write that a character is smiling. And to bring in my point from earlier, the comment that made them smile would also give them a reason to pause, even for a brief second, to either end the ribbing or come up with a great comeback. 

One additional thing you can do, if you feel it’s important to note that the character has been smiling the whole time, is saying that a smile or expression grew.

“His playful grin stretched even wider at this comment.”

“The brightness in her eyes seemed to twinkle when she heard this.”

“The grimace on his face twisted even more, expressing his deepening disgust.”

Context clues from the the actual words spoken should have alluded to these types of reactions earlier in the scene, and when the moment is at its peak, you confirm it, and show the readers that the reaction becomes even bigger. 

Readers don’t just read dialogue; they hear it, and they see it. If the dialogue is well written, a reader won’t need to know that a character is smiling while saying something. They’ll be able to imagine it. So rather than finding ways to use these descriptors, challenge yourself to write dialogue that clearly shows how a character is reacting and feeling. 

Hope I was able to help! Good luck!

-Rebekah