#CRYING MY PARENTS SAID OUR ONLY WINDOWS LAPTOP BROKE

[crispycreambacon]

🔥🔥🔥 I HATE MACBOOKS RAHHHHH 🔥🔥🔥

[ranveer--singh]

Title: Decisions, Decisions, Decisions - with Henry Cavill x reader

A/N: Reader finds out she pregnant, and now has to make a big decision. Does she want to have the baby, take the promtion, or do both. Will Henry support her decision?

The front door unlocked, making Nora nervously chuck the items in her hand into her bag. Quickly she grabbed her book, opening it to the page she last left on and carried on reading.

Hearing her husband walk inside, closing the door behind him made her heart race. His scent lingered into the lounge, making Nora’s body tingle and getting more and more nervous.

She didn’t want to look up and instead just focused on reading, trying to avoid those dreamy and charming eyes.

Henry  walked into the lounge, grinning as he sees his wife sitting on the sofa. She was wearing his shorts and a pink nike shirt. Nora’s legs were sprawled out onto the sofa, eyes focused on the book which made Henry  bite his lip just eyeing her up.

“Hey lovely.” Henry  sat down on the coffee table next to his wife. He put his hands on her smooth legs, tracing a line up and down with his fingers.

“Hen stop it, stop it,” Nora giggles kicking her legs. He was tickling her, making Nora forget her place in the book. She screeched, kicking again, her bag falling onto the floor when he came across a particularly sensitive bit of skin. She cursed as all her items fell out of her back at the sudden movement, even the items she nervously put inside when she heard him entering inside.

“Look what you did,” Nora sighed, slamming the book shut, jumping out of the sofa to collect her items and put them into her bag. 

Henry  went to help her out, bending down to collect the items and put back in her bag. He could see how distressed she looked and frowned. He raised his eyebrows when he saw a white and blue stick amongst the things on the ground.

He grabbed it, standing up to read it but Nora jumped up on her feet trying to get it out of his hands. Henry  was stronger then her, being a actor who trained a lot, so he was able to dodge her efforts and kept it in tightly in his hands.

“Pumpkin, are you- are you pregnant?” Nora had tears running down her eyes now sitting down on the sofa. She sniffed, rubbing her nose looking messy.

“Pumpkin, talk to me,” Henry  went to sit next to his lovely wife. He took her hands in his and held them, looking deep into her green eyes.

“Yes I am pregnant,” Nora half smiled looking at him. She could see how happy Henry  was to finally be a dad. His face lit up, a huge smile slid across his face. It’s the one thing he was waiting for. 

In excitement, he picked his wife up and spun her around a few times. Henry  slowly placed her on the ground, his hands cupped Nora’s face where he leaned in and pecked her lips ever so gently.

Henry frowned a bit, pulling back when he got an inkling something was wrong. Normally when the couple kisses, Nora’s hands would be on Henry ’s chest or squeezing his muscular arms. There was nothing of the sort today, however. He saw his wife turn her head instead to look outside to see the sun settle down.

Just as her tears dried up, Nora felt like crying again, her body shaking slightly from the cold breeze entering from the open window. Henry just watched his wife’s motions slowly, before moving her chin back to her face faced him.

“What’s wrong?” Henry could see a few tears trickling down her face. This broke his heart, thinking she didn’t want the baby. Nora linked her hand with his, sitting back on the sofa. Hena was getting scared, 101 things buzzing around in his head.

“Pumpkin, you’re scaring me,” Henry didn’t take his eyes off his wife as she started to talk. He watched as Nora’s leg started to shake, her hands getting clammy and moving off his. More tears trickled down her face, He grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and dapped the dampness of her face. Nora drew a half smile, biting on her bottom lip. 

“Hen,” she spoke softly, looking into his soft and kind eyes. “This is going to be hard for me. So please let me finish talking before saying anything.” He just nodded, looking at his wife watching her talk. Nora took a deep breath before she continued.

“Today I got a promotion at work, Hen. Instead of being a senior associate I became manager of the sales department. It’s a salary bump to double my regular pay. I get my own office, a new laptop and a whole team to work with.”

Nora sounded a bit excited from the tone of her voice, Henry  sighed knowing exactly what was coming next. He didn’t like it and it broke his heart, but he loved her and would support her with whatever decision she makes.

“Hen, say something,” Nora looked at him after finishing what she had to say. But there was dead silence for a few seconds. The only thing they could hear was the wind blowing in from the open window.

“Let’s make an appointment at the clinic tomorrow and sort it out,” Henry spoke feeling heart-broken that Nora would choose her career over wanting to become a mother. They always wanted to be parents. Babysitting Henry’s brother’s son gave them huge baby fever and now it appeared Nora would rather become a manager instead.

Nora became angry and disbelief coursed through her body. How could her husband just assume she wanted to get rid of the baby. She stood up from the sofa, pacing up and down in front of him in her agitation. Oh, she was really ready to let him have it.

“I am free tomorrow afternoon, maybe if we book now we can get the earliest time available.” Henry speaking was aggravating Nora and only making her angrier. She desperately wanted to slap some sense into him.

“SHUT UP,” Nora shouted, veins popping out of her forehead. He was startled, he didn’t really understand why she was angry. He thought this is what she wanted, no baby but a managers role.

Nora stopped pacing when she saw her husband frown, she couldn’t help but get more pissed off with his confusion. Henry should have known her better, they had been dating since they were 18 and they had been married for 2 years.

“Henry Cavill, what the hell made you think, that I wanted to get rid of the baby,” Nora shouted, biting her bottom lip. He could really be an idiot sometimes.

“You got the manager’s job, I figured you would take it,” Henry watched his wife sigh loudly, really annoyed. He didn’t understand. Nora had always dreamed about becoming a manager. She worked extremely hard to get where she is today. Being offered the manager’s job at age 32 was not a mean feat. Nora should feel proud of her achievements and he wouldn’t make her turn down the job, no matter his feelings about the baby. 

“Don’t call me Pumpkin” Nora snapped at him. “I prefer to stand, thank you very much.” Nora clenched her hands before she carried on speaking.

“Pumpkin, please sit down,” He spoke softly watching his wife grit her teeth. 

“You don’t even know what I am thinking about half the time Henry. All you do is assume the worst, I never said I was going to have an abortion. That’s all on you,” Nora spat at him, close to tears.  

“That’s not true. You know I love you but this is a baby we are talking about. This is what we been wanting for months now. Think about my feelings too,” Henry couldn’t bite his tongue anymore at her words, getting up from the sofa so he could look his wife in the eyes.

“I don’t want to have an abortion,” Nora started crying, sitting on the sofa. Her head held in her hands, raging hormones all over the place. “I have been thinking during my journey home to decline the manager’s job but to hopefully work part-time. It’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”

Henry  sighed, shoulders relaxing. Thank god. she didn’t want to abort. He sat down next to Nora in his relief. No words were exchanged, he just wrapped his arms around her tiny waist bringing her closer to him. Nora rested her head on his chest for comfort hearing his heart beat fast. He rested his head on top of hers as silence filled the air, Henry  rubbed her back smoothly just letting Nora cry it out. This was an important decision to make for them both. 

“I want to have this baby,” she broke the silence, lifting her head up and looking straight into his eyes.

“What about your promotion,” Henry  parted away so he got a good look at his wife who looked unsure, biting on her bottom lip once again.

“I don’t know, it will be hard to juggle both.” Nora’s voice became softer and a few more tears trickled down her face.

“Pumpkin,” He placed his hands on top of hers. “I am here for you, you should take the managers job. It’s something you have been working hard for, remember?”

“What about the baby? Taking the job means I’d hardly get to spend time with my child.” More tears fell down Nora’s face, remembering being looked after by her nanny until she became a teenager. It hadn’t been very fun because her nanny had been a very strict elderly woman. She just missed and longed for her parents to play and spend time with her. She wouldn’t wish that for her child.

“Pumpkin, look at me.” Nora wiped her nose looking at him. “You’re not alone in this, you’ve got me. Both our families will love to babysit. I’d say go for the manager’s job and we will cross bridges when we get to it." 

He cupped his wife’s face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her softly. Nora closed her eyes, enjoying the kiss for a few seconds. 

"Hen, do you really think we be able to juggle it all.” Nora looked up at him questioningly.

“I really think so, we are two clever individuals who can do anything we set are minds to. So let’s create one of your famous colour-coded calenders to help us get through it all.”

A smile appeared on Nora’s face at his words. For him to suggest an organized and colour-coded plan was a sign that he was really committed to making this work. It warmed her heart.

“Let’s do this,” Nora jumped up to grab her laptop, sitting back down on the sofa and started planning and merging her diary with Henry’s.

“We are doing it, Hen. We are doing it,” Her calendar looked very organised. Well, it took her a while to make it. Nora grabbed her laptop, ready to type an email to her boss accepting the manager’s position.

“Pumpkin, close the computer and come cuddle with me.” Henry made a grab at her laptop but she giggled and shielded it, playfully slapping his hands as she did so. 

“Just a moment, Hen. I need to-”

“Need to what, send an email right now?” He cut her off, looking at her opening the email to compose a message. 

“Leave it, Pumpkin. Come cuddle with me.” Henry opened his arms and gestured for her to join him where he was sitting. Nora sighed in surrender, rolling her eyes at her husband but closing her laptop nonetheless. She stood up to go and join him on the couch.

They sat together for a few seconds when the silence broke. Henry looks up to her before speaking, 

“I hope we have a baby girl who is as beautiful as you." 

Nora smiled and quirked an eyebrow,

"I thought you wanted a boy to play rugby with?”

As she was speaking, Nora imagined a little boy with Hen’s curly hair running around in the back garden wearing superman cape on his back, being chased by his father.

Henry didn’t say anything in response but fingered the hem of her shirt, moving her carefully out of his arms so he could bend down and kiss her stomach. Nora shivered at the feeling of the stubble on his jaw gently scraping along her sensitive skin of her belly. She smiled as Henry started whispering to the little tyke inside.

[silverlightqueen]

Cursed

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

wizard!Seungmin x human!reader - crack comedy, y/n’s a bit of a spoilt brat and Seungmin is not down for it lol

Word Count: 3k+

Summary - Seungmin is the best wizard in town. Poisoned by a pixie? Battered by a troll? Bitten by a were? Whatever the magical injury, Seungmin can fix it in the bat of an eyelid. So when y/n is cursed by a witch and needs his help, she expects to leave his lair curseless only a few minutes later. But her plan… doesn’t quite go to plan.

Warnings: y/n is a total judgemental bitch lmao and Seungmin wants to teach her a lesson, brief mention of blood and vomit, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed else!

a/n: and here is the seventh instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you @silverlightprincess​ for being the best (she didn’t proofread this either but she’s about to read it after I post it and check for mistakes which I will go back and edit lmao). please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too x

taglist: @kodzu-ken​ @cloudsgathering​ @silverlightprincess

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‘Hi, how can I help?’ the receptionist says, looking up from her computer to give me a friendly smile. ‘Hi, I’ve got an appointment with Dr Kim at 1.30,’ I say, and she blinks at me in surprise before looking at her computer, clicking away. ‘Ah, y/n y/l/n, is it? You booked yesterday?’ ‘Yes, that’s me.’ ‘You’re lucky to get an appointment with Dr Kim so late. And during his lunch break, too! Do you know him?’ she asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘I used to. We… went to school together.’ ‘Oh, that’s nice! Well, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here,’ she says cheerily, and I give her a weak smile before turning to take a seat.

The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery is unlike any Doctors’ Surgery I’ve ever seen before; the reception is relatively normal, with its cold lighting, linoleum flooring and hard backed chairs, but the patients are quite… abnormal. A man is sat two seats away from me, his body covered in hair and long sharp claws protruding from his fingers – I hear him telling the fairy beside him, whose wings are wilted and colourless, that he hasn’t been able to fully turn into his wolf form or his human form for weeks. Opposite them, a vampire sits with a bucket in his lap, vomiting blood into it every few moments, and the centaur stood beside his seat with his tail wrapped in a bloody bandage rubs his back soothingly. I think I’m the only human in here.

Normally, I’d have driven out to the Doctors’ Surgery in the next district – everyone knows that The District 9 Doctors’ Surgery caters specifically to magical injuries – but I somehow don’t think my problem can be solved by a human doctor. When I phoned the surgery yesterday, I asked for the next possible appointment. I was told by the receptionist that that wouldn’t be until mid-November, which never would’ve worked. So I did what I swore I wouldn’t do, and asked the receptionist to ask Dr Kim if he had any availability for y/n y/l/n. The receptionist sounded sceptical, but he put me on hold anyway, and came back to tell me that Dr Kim said he could just about fit me in.

‘Miss y/l/n? Dr Kim is ready to see you in Room 13,’ the receptionist calls out, and I rise from my chair, passing the vomiting vampire with a wince. I head down the clinical corridor, white bar lights flickering overhead, and when I reach Room 13, I take a deep breath and raise my hand to the door. I knock once, twice, and then wait to be told to come in. I hear nothing. I roll my eyes, knocking again a few moments later, and then I hear him call out, ‘Come in!’

I turn the handle, tentatively opening the door and slipping into the room. Whilst the reception may have looked like any old Doctors’ Surgery, Room 13 certainly does not. The walls are black and purple, flickering yellow lamps casting an eerie glow and providing the brightness that the room needs due to having no windows. The floor is an ugly brown and red patterned carpet, the kind you find in a decades old manor house, and wooden shelves and chests of drawers are dotted around the room, covered with various suspicious looking bottles and jars. Old tapestries hang on the walls, and mismatched armchairs and beanbags sit around the rickety table in the middle of the room – I suppose it’s more of a kitchen island type thing than a table – which has a crystal ball, magic wands and various mystical objects sitting atop it. The only things in the room that don’t look otherworldly or ancient are the laptop on the table, and the man stood in front of it, typing away.

He doesn’t look up when I walk in, so I just shut the door behind me, throwing myself down onto the comfiest looking armchair, practically sinking into it. I busy myself with filing my freshly done nails – I love my nail lady, but she can somehow never get them all even – whilst I wait for him to be done. ‘I just cleaned the room and you’re getting nail filings everywhere,’ he says after a few minutes, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Are you sure you cleaned it? It looks a state,’ I say dryly, and he lets out a little laugh as I pull a flask out of my bag. I get up from my seat and hand him the flask, ignoring his raised eyebrow. ‘Wait, is this-’ ‘Iced americano. The way you like it,’ I say, and he grins, taking it from me with badly hidden excitement. ‘Look at you. Sweetening me up,’ he observes amusedly, and I roll my eyes again. ‘I was making it for myself but now I feel a little sick, so you can have it,’ I lie, and he just gives me a suspicious side-eye before sipping from the flask and letting out a blissful sigh.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks after a few seconds, and I sigh, dragging one of the higher chairs over to the table and sitting on it, not wanting to be a few feet shorter than him in the armchair. ‘I need your help with something,’ I say, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you’re actually here to be treated?’ ‘Um… yes. Why else would I be here?’ I ask confusedly, and he hesitates. ‘Thought you might be here to… see me,’ he says quietly, and I feel a little awkward. ‘I… Seungmin, you have to understand w-’ ‘I understand, y/n, I completely understand, and I don’t blame you. It’s just that I’ve… missed you. And I don’t mean I’ve missed our relationship. I’ve missed you in my life. You don’t even show up to family events anymore, and my mum keeps asking why she hasn’t seen you. I don’t have the heart to tell her what happened,’ he murmurs, my heart twisting with guilt. I’m not quite sure what to say, desperately wracking my brains, but there isn’t anything to say, so we’re both silent.

Seungmin and I grew up living in houses opposite each other. Our parents were best friends, so we were best friends. We remained that way through nursery, all of school, and into our adult lives too. I was quite proud of having a wizard best friend who could solve nearly any problem I ever had. He made sure I never failed any tests, hurt myself, got into trouble, and he fixed anything I ever broke, found everything I ever lost, made sure nothing bad ever happened to me. And then we did the worst thing we could’ve done, and we fell in love with each other. Two years later, I had aged two years, and Seungmin had not – wizards are immortal, and so he stopped aging from the age of 18. 22-year-old me was dating 18-year-old Seungmin. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue, but I started thinking about the future. What about when I turned 30, and Seungmin still hadn’t aged a day into adulthood? When we’d had a child together, and he looked more like the kid’s sibling than the father?

‘Anyway… what’s wrong? Why’d you need my help?’ he asks, and I sigh deeply. ‘Basically… I was at the club with Chaeryeong the other night, and we were in the toilets, and I was putting on lipgloss. This girl next to me asked if she could use it, and I was like, ‘um, no’, because who shares lipgloss with a stranger in a club, and she got angry and started saying, ‘you think you’re so gorgeous, and you think you’re better than me,’ and basically went off on one, so I may have retaliated slightly, and turns out she was a witch, so she put a curse on me,’ I explain all in one breath, and Seungmin raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘You wanna tell me what really happened?’ he asks, and I blink once, twice, before sighing.

‘She asked to borrow my lipgloss and I was kinda drunk and I may have been a bit of a bitch and told her she needed more than just lipgloss to fix her face,’ I admit ashamedly, and Seungmin’s mouth falls open. ‘y/n!’ ‘What? It’s not like I lied! Her makeup was terrible! It was the completely wrong colour for her skin, she hadn’t blended it, her eyelashes weren’t the right shape for her eyes and she hadn’t glued them on properly so they were hanging off, her eyeshadow clashed with her lipstick, it was all terrible! I wasn’t about to let her put my expensive ass lipgloss on top of that god-awful lipstick. So I tried to give her some girl-to-girl advice, but I was drunk so it came out the wrong way!’ I say defensively, Seungmin shaking his head at me in disbelief.

‘Did you tell her all those things? ‘…I may have, yes.’ ‘You’re such a bitch, y/n. Maybe she did her makeup like that on purpose. Maybe no one’s ever taught her how to do makeup. You didn’t need to come for her like that. God,’ he says, voice laced with shock and disappointment, and I feel like a little kid being told off by their teacher. ‘I apologised when she started crying b-’ ‘You made her cry?’ he demands, voice going up a few octaves, and I pout. ‘I didn’t mean to! I apologised, but she was already angry, so she cursed me,’ I say in a small voice, Seungmin’s unimpressed gaze making me feel quite ashamed. Not that I didn’t already! He’s just making me feel worse.

‘What was the curse she put on you?’ he asks, and I let out an angry noise just at the thought of it. ‘That I’ll age to look quadruple how old I actually am,’ I spit, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘I’ve never heard that before. She probably just said it to scare you.’ ‘That’s what I thought. Until this happened,’ I say, turning my head away and lifting up my hair to reveal the base of my neck. I hear him suck in a breath, knowing he’s seeing the lock of hair at the back of my head, the one that’s now a powdery grey colour, wiry and ratty amongst the perfectly healthy hair that I put so much effort into looking after.

‘My body’s getting achy and I’ve got all these pains everywhere that I didn’t have a couple days ago. So I think the curse is real, Seungmin,’ I say seriously, and he nods, looking thoughtful. ‘So you want me to lift the curse off you?’ he asks, and I nod, giving him my best wide innocent eyes. ‘Can you do it?’ I ask, and he’s silent for a moment before replying, ‘I can. But I won’t.’ My heart drops, my mouth falling open slightly, and I blink at him a few times before I say, ‘what do you mean, you won’t?’ ‘I won’t lift the curse off you. You were rude and bitchy to that girl and not once have you shown me that you feel guilty about it. Instead, you’re sat here defending yourself and complaining about her like a little brat, so I think this should teach you a lesson,’ he says simply, and I stare at him in shock.

‘You’re joking, right? I demand, anger flaring through me at the way his eyes sparkle with mirth. ‘No, I’m being serious, actually. You judged that girl based on how she looked – I’m sure if she was conventionally pretty, with flawless makeup, you’d have lent her your lipgloss without a second thought, and probably becomes best friends with her too. That girl might have been the nicest person you’d ever come across. But you wouldn’t know, because you were mean to her. Now, the shoe will be on the other foot. You’ve coasted through life getting what you want because you’re pretty, and now that you’ll look all wrinkly and saggy, we’ll see how you like being on the receiving end of people’s judgement,’ he says cheerfully, my mouth falling open more and more as he speaks.

‘Seungmin, I’m sorry for being a bitch. I really am, and I do regret it. But surely that slightly bitchy behaviour doesn’t warrant this. Me looking like an ancient pensioner! I’ve learnt my lesson. Please don’t do this,’ I say desperately, starting to actually worry that he might not lift the curse. ‘Hmm, I don’t know if you have learnt your lesson, y/n. It’s not like I can take your word for it, because if I didn’t know you any better, you’d have gotten away with telling me a twisted version of what really happened. You’re a compulsive liar. So, I apologise, but I won’t be lifting the curse,’ he says seriously, but his lips are quirked up at the corners, making me realise he’s actually amused by this situation.

‘Seungmin, this isn’t a joke! You cannot let this happen to me!’ I shriek, panic making my hands shake, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Shouting won’t make me change my mind,’ he says dryly, the two of us staring at each other, very different emotions in our gazes, and he sighs a few moments later. ‘How about this? When you show a true act of selflessness and generosity without any kind of judgement, the curse will break,’ he says, taking my hands into his as he speaks, and when I register his words, I snatch them away angrily. ‘No! I don’t want any stupid conditions or things I have to do! Just take the fucking curse off me, Min!’ I scream, fury making my voice waver, and he just laughs.

‘You took your hands away too late – it’s done now. This will teach you your lesson,’ he grins, and I want to literally throw myself across the table and teach him a lesson instead. ‘Seungie, please,’ I pout, stooping lower than I ever thought I would, and he hesitates for a moment before shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘No, y/n. It’s done. Try not to judge someone based on their appearance for once, and you’ll be rewarded for it,’ he says mildly, and I just stare at him in disbelief for a few moments. ‘Are you doing this because I dumped you?’ I ask, unable to believe he simply wants to teach me a lesson, and he bursts out into laughter. ‘Flattering yourself a little there, aren’t you? No, y/n, that’s not why. Stop trying to find reasons to play this down. There are no other factors for this punishment other than your nasty behaviour.’ ‘Punishment? What are you, my dad? You don’t get to punish me!’ ‘I know you better than your dad does, better than anyone else does, and I know you’re better than this. I’m trying to help you.’ ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it!’ I exclaim, silence falling between us.

‘If that’s all, y/n-’ ‘If that’s all? If that’s all?’ ‘Yes. If that’s all, you can leave. I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break, and then I’ve got another appointment. So you can go,’ he says with a small grin, effectively dismissing me like a parent sends a child to their room, and I let out an angry huff. ‘I can’t believe this. Some shitty doctor you are,’ I say childishly, bitter about this lesson he’s trying to teach me, and he just rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘My thousands of satisfied patients say otherwise. But that’s okay – you can’t please everyone. Especially not judgemental little brats,’ he grins, and I let out a shrill noise of rage, pushing myself up off the seat and grabbing my bag from the armchair.

‘And I’ll take this!’ I exclaim pettily, snatching the half-empty flask from the table, and he just laughs at me, making me feel even more murderous than I already do. ‘You’ll thank me eventually, y/n,’ he says gently, and I let out another angry huff. ‘I doubt it,’ I hiss, stomping towards the door and, just as I think I can’t be any more immature, I kick the shelves nearest me, watching as it wobbles and falls over to the side before stopping mid-air. ‘Really? How childish of you,’ Seungmin says amusedly, one hand outstretched in the direction of the shelves, his magic holding them up, and I let out an angry scream, sounding a lot like Regina George when she was putting herself in the Burn Book to get back at Cady. Is this really what I’ve become? How embarrassing,

‘I’ll see you at Jackson’s for Halloween,’ he calls out behind me as I reach the door. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ I hiss venomously, ‘my brittle bones may have already given way by then. God knows if I’ll even be able to walk, thanks to you!’ ‘No, y/n, you only have yourself to blame for this,’ he says, as he shakes his head with a sad smile. ‘Oh, cut out all the philosophical teaching-moment shit,’ I spit, wrenching open the door. As I do so, one of my nails flies off my finger. Not just the fake nail my technician put on this morning. The entire nail.

I hold back a gag, hearing Seungmin stifling laughter behind me, and I look away from it, feeling quite sick. My eyes meet Seungmin’s, and he must take pity on me when he sees how they’re full of angry and helpless tears, and he waves a hand in my direction. When I look down at my hand again, the nail is back in place, good as new. I look back at him in surprise, and he looks a little embarrassed. ‘No more of your nails will fall out. But I’m not fixing anything else for you. Now go, before your stupid pretty face convinces me to lift the curse,’ he says, and I feel a little hope spark in my chest. ‘Seungie, p-’ ‘Nuh-uh. Get outta here. Now.’ ‘But S-‘ ‘y/n, I will call security!’

[caffeinatedbraincell]

Hi y’all I’m back with another TOG story! 

Summary: Joe and Nicky raise a duckling together during their time off. They're great parents and the ducking is very cute, and absolutely nothing sad or angsty happens because we all deserve some undiluted serotonin.

(Edit: Forgot to tag earlier, inspired by this post by @silly-old-guard-aus <3)

Read on AO3

“How are they?” Joe asked, smiling softly as he held the phone to his ear.

On the other end, Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know them like you do, obviously. But I- ah, I don’t know, this might be presumptuous of me. But I think they’re gonna be alright.”

“You know Andy well.”

“Yeah, but not Quynh. This is my first time meeting Quynh.”

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t cry in front of me. Didn’t even yell. Andy broke down instantly, but not Quynh. I told her Andy was mortal now, and then I left. I thought maybe it would be easier for them to be vulnerable with each other if I wasn’t around. Do you think Andy will be safe?”

“Yes. She is always safe with Quynh.”

“But Quynh was so angry.”

“She has every right to be angry. Even though it is not Andy’s fault. Andy knows this. Their love is many millennia old, Booker. These past 500 years will not break them.”

Booker grunted noncommittally. “I’m going to go back. Just to check on Andy. I’ll sleep in a motel if they want to be alone.”

“Alright. Text me, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. How’s everything over there?”

Joe looked over at the couch. Nicky was reclining in the corner spot, watching with rapt attention what Nile had called “one of the best episodes of Queer Eye ever” on their laptop. Nile was curled into a ball at his side. A cool draft snuck in through the cracked window, and Nicky adjusted the plush throw that was draped over them both. Nile sighed contentedly, snuggling closer for warmth.

“Good,” Joe replied, voice suddenly soft. “Everything’s really good here. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Do you all need anything from Paris?”

“Not that I can think of right now. But I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Okay, sounds good.”

“Sebastian.”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself, okay? They’ll both be alright. Don’t sweat it.”

There was a pause. Then Booker sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll relax.”

“Good. Text me when you figure out where you’re sleeping tonight.”

“For sure. Thanks, Joe. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Joe left his phone on the counter and crossed over to the living room. He sat down on the carpet in front of Nicky, tilting his head back to rest it against Nicky’s knees. Nicky smiled, reaching down to run a hand through Joe’s hair. He wrapped a few curls around his fingers, tugging ever so gently before letting go. He shifted his hand a few centimeters and repeated the act.

“Come up here?”

Joe shook his head, practically melting under Nicky’s loving ministrations. The floor was especially comfy when it was closer to Nicky. “I love you,” Joe mumbled, as instinctively as exhaling. After a moment, he frowned. “I love you, too, Nile.” Nicky laughed, and Joe could almost feel Nile roll her eyes.

The episode ended with Tan France demonstrating how to do a French tuck, and Nicky wondered aloud if the technique would work just as well with his highlighter-green shorts. Joe, despite knowing full well that Nicky was trying to provoke him, promptly went off on a well-rehearsed tirade about the detriments of wearing a dress shirt with basketball shorts.

“Nile, back me up here!”

“You’re right. He’s right, Nicky. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“You two can’t stop me,” Nicky argued, just to be contrary.

“At least it won’t be as bad as that time you wore only yellow for two months,” Joe said resignedly.

“Yellow?” Nile asked.

“Yes, he insisted it would make the duckling feel more at home.”

“Duckling?!”

Nicky clicked his tongue impatiently. “I wore various styles and shades of yellow, from pressed goldenrod shirts to an actual pastel canary dress. He has no right to complain about my lack of versatility.”

“The duckling liked me better, and I just dressed like usual.”

“She didn’t like you better. You always kept blueberries on you to bribe her with.”

Wait,” Nile interjected. “We need to backtrack. When and why did you guys have a duckling?”

Joe gave Nicky a pointed look that did nothing to hide the mirth in his eyes. Nicky sighed around a smile.

“It was an accident.” ___

“Nicky, stop moping. Booker, get up from the floor. Enough is enough,” Andy said, far more gently that her words implied. She prodded a very drunk, very anxious Booker with her foot. “Book, have you eaten at all today?”

“He hasn’t,” Nicky muttered from the kitchen counter. “But neither have you, boss. You’re telling us to get it together, but you’re equally antsy about this whole thing. Don’t deny it.”

Andy sighed in frustration. “I wasn’t going to. It was a bad call on my part. I shouldn’t have sent Joe alone.”

“It was a one-man job. You said so yourself. And he did have the best-suited skill set out of all of us. I think, tactically speaking, you made the right decision.”

“But you’re still upset about it, aren’t you?”

“Look, boss, just because it’s a one-man job doesn’t mean said one man wouldn’t prefer company. And it would be safer to have someone along.”

“It would have been a lot of extra work for Booker, security-wise. You know that.”

“Noooo, I din’ miiind,” Booker slurred from where he was curled up on the rug. He made a valiant effort to prop himself up on an elbow before collapsing back down with a thud.

Nicky put his head in his hands. “He was supposed to be back today, right?” he whispered into his palms.

“He’ll be back. He’s fine. I know he’s fine.” Andy paced back and forth restlessly. “We just need to get out of our own heads for a bit. Be a little patient. Joe will be fine.”

The stool scraped noisily against the kitchen floor as Nicky got to his feet. “I’m going to go for a walk and not think about anything for half and hour. I’ll bring takeout on my way back. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, solid plan. I’ll drag Booker to bed and try to get him fully conscious by the time you’re back.”

“Sober?”

Andy chuckled. “Don’t get too ambitious.”

Twenty minutes later, Nicky was sitting on a park bench, forlornly looking out over a pond as the sun set behind him. He’d already called a nearby Indo-Pakistani restaurant and ordered one plate each of everyone’s favorite biryani to-go, including Joe’s. Joe had to come back tonight. He had to.

Nicky shook his head in frustration. He was doing a very poor job of thinking about nothing. Suddenly, a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head, squinting at the reeds growing on the pond bank.

The reeds rustled ominously. Nicky was just contemplating his chances of outrunning a rabid racoon, or alternatively, how long it would take him to heal from death by racoon, when the rustling stopped. Then, with a piteous squawk, a small ball of yellow fluff popped out onto the footpath.

Nicky stared in surprise. The poor little thing had landed on its back, its orange, webbed feet flailing in the air. It didn’t seem to be able to turn itself upright. Cautiously, Nicky approached the creature and very gently scooped it up. It gawked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he heard himself mumbling soothing reassurances as he set it back on its feet. It stumbled half a meter and fell into the pond with a splash.

Nicky almost jumped to rescue it, before remembering that it was a duck and probably did not need to be rescued from the water. Was this one old enough to swim on its own? At what age did ducklings learn to swim, anyway?

The baby animal splashed around happily in front of him, clearly not drowning. Still, Nicky decided to stay for a few minutes, just to make sure it would be okay. He looked around. The mother duck and her other babies had to be around here, somewhere.

Eventually, his phone pinged with a message from the restaurant, letting him know his order was ready to be picked up. He was startled to find that it had been over forty-five minutes since he’d left the safehouse. If he didn’t get back soon, Andy and Booker might start to worry.

Nicky looked wistfully at the duckling. “Off you go, little one. Go home to your family. I’ll go home to mine.” The duckling blinked up at him quizzically. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow, if you want,” Nicky tried. “In fact, I’ll bring Joe with me. You’ll love him. He’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. A ray of pure sunshine, just like you.”

As he spoke, he unconsciously reached out a hand to the duckling. To his utter shock, the creature hopped right up onto his palm and settled down.

“No, you can’t come with me,” he cajoled. “You belong here. In the water. Come on, in you go.” Reluctantly, it leapt back into the water, but made no move to swim away. Nicky pursed his lips, thinking hard. Maybe if he just got up and walked off, the duckling would go back to its family. He figured it was worth a shot.

Nicky got to his feet and turned around. He’d taken only two steps away from the pond when he heard a frantic splash behind him, followed by the soft thwack, thwack, thwack, of webbed feet on concrete. He whirled around.

“No, you have to go back to your pond!” he whispered urgently. The duckling tilted its head. “The pond!” Nicky gestured dramatically toward the fading light on the surface of the water. “You know, your home.”

Nicky sighed. He would just have to walk away as fast as possible. There was no way this baby duck could keep up; it would have no choice but to go back to its family. The thought made his heart break a little, but he had no other option. Taking a deep breath, he began to stride away purposefully.

In a matter of seconds, a series of tiny, woeful quacks stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find the duckling flopped over onto its stomach, crying.

“Ehi, no, piccolo mio,” Nicky exclaimed, rushing forward to gather the poor thing in his arms. He unbuttoned the top of his coat and held the duckling against his chest to warm it up. “Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s alright.”

He looked back towards the pond. There wasn’t one single other duck in sight. He looked down at the duckling, trembling weakly in his jacket as it calmed down. He sighed. Andy was going to throw a fit.

“Looks like you’re coming with me, little one.”

Nicky managed to smuggle the duckling in and out of the restaurant without anyone noticing. As he picked up the warm takeout boxes, the duckling poked its head out of his jacket to investigate this new source of warmth. By the time Nicky reached the safehouse, he was carrying four boxes of biryani stacked one on the other like a Christmas tree, with a sleeping ball of fluff on top where the angel would go.

Before he could even knock, the door flew open and Andy shoved her cellphone in his face.

“Look, it’s a message from Joe! He says his flight got delayed, but he’ll be here tomorrow morning!”

Nicky almost dropped their dinner (and the duckling) in his haste to grab the phone. Beneath the update, Joe had sent a selfie of himself at the airport terminal, captioned with a cheery “See, boss? I’m fine!” and a couple heart emojis. Looking at his beloved husband’s radiant smile, Nicky felt his eyes mist over involuntarily.

“There’s a duckling sleeping on my biryani.”

Nicky and Andy turned around. Booker, who must have maneuvered the takeout from Nicky’s hands while he’d been distracted by Joe, frowned dubiously at the stack of boxes.

“Do you see it, too, Andy? Or did I just drink way too much earlier?”

“Both,” Andy replied without missing a beat. “Nicky, why is there a duckling-”

“It followed me,” Nicky blurted out. “I was sitting by the pond and it fell out of the reeds right in front of me. After that, it just kept hanging out nearby. When I tried to put it by the pond and go, it started crying. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave it!”

“Okay, but what if its mother is looking for it?”

“I really, really tried to find the mom. But there wasn’t one other duck in that entire pond. I have no clue where this guy came from.” Nicky spread his hands helplessly.

Just then, the duckling woke up. For a frantic second, everyone held their breath as it flailed around, threatening to topple from the stack of boxes. But the moment it saw Nicky, it sat back down, contentedly preening its downy feathers.

“Oh my god,” Booker said incredulously. “Nicky, I think it imprinted on you.”

“What?” Nicky demanded.

“Oh, no way,” Andy countered. “Ducklings are supposed to imprint on their mother ducks. Nicky isn’t even the same species.”

“Yeah, but ducklings have been known to imprint on other animals, including humans,” Booker continued. “Especially if the mother is absent during the baby’s first few days for whatever reason, it will imprint on whoever it can find. Nicky, looks like you adopted a duckling. Or it adopted you. Good luck.”

“Oh no,” Nicky fretted. “I can’t raise a baby all by myself. Where is Joe, I need a co-parent! Andy, can I have some time off? Maybe, uh, a few weeks? Oh no, I don’t even know how long it takes for a duckling to grow up. I don’t know anything about ducklings. Booker, can you print out the Wikipedia page on ducklings for me?”

“Relax, Nicky,” Andy chided. “You’ve raised chicks before. How different can this really be?”

“8-12 weeks,” Booker read out from his laptop. “Nicky and Joe are going to need 8-12 weeks off to raise this duckling to full maturity. After that, they can reintroduce it to the pond.”

Andy sighed. “Fine. You two were gonna have time off anyway, since I have business in Portugal and Booker’s going to Germany because he scored tickets to the World Cup.”

“Oh, Joe didn’t want to come?” Nicky asked.

“I only managed to get one ticket,” Booker admitted. “I offered to let Joe go instead of me, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said maybe next time, if we get more tickets.”

“Oh. I guess that works out then.”

“For the record,” Andy said as she extracted her box from beneath the duckling, “this is absolutely ridiculous. Only you, Nicky, would go out for a walk to ‘clear your head,’ and come back with a real live orphan duckling.”

In the end, it was a good thing they were in Genoa, because Nicky had maintained his ties to the port city over the centuries and, in a matter of hours, was able to take out a lease for a small cottage closer to the pond. After dinner, Booker and Andy helped him shift his and Joe’s belongings, as well as some meager furniture, into the new place.

“I think I’ll stay the night,” Nicky decided as they finished up. “The duckling is already asleep on my jacket, and I don’t want to jostle it in the process of moving back to the safehouse.”

“Sounds good,” Andy said around a yawn. “We’ll send Joe over as soon as he drops off the mission file. Come on, Book. Time to go.” There was no response. “Booker?”

Booker tip-toed out of the room where the duckling was sleeping, waving his laptop around triumphantly. “She’s a baby pekin. That’s the species. Also she’s a she, in case you were wondering. See this faded eyeline?” He pointed to a picture on the laptop. “That’s how you can tell.”

“A she,” Andy grunted approvingly. “What are you going to name her, Nicky?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask Joe tomorrow. He’ll come up with something pretty and meaningful.”

“Your laptop was dead, Nicky, so I plugged it in to charge,” Booker said, shoving his own laptop into a bag. “You’re gonna be doing a lot of googling, I think.”

“Thank you, Booker.”

“Mhm. Andy, let’s go? If I fall asleep before we make it back, you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way.”

“I’ll leave you on the footpath.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I might. Let’s go. ‘Night, Nicky.”

“Goodnight, you both. Safe travels, in case I don’t see you before your flights.”

The next morning, Nicky woke up to webbed feet padding determinedly across his chest. He opened his eyes to see beady black eyes staring down into his soul, and very nearly had a heart attack.

“Madre de dio!” he yelped, sitting up sharply. He managed to gather his bearings and catch the little ball of yellow fluff before it tumbled off the bed. “Piccolo mio, you can’t just do that!”

The duck let out several loud, indignant squawks, stomping around in his lap. Nicky furrowed his brow.

“Are you…yelling at me?”

The squawking and stomping continued.

“Oh,” Nicky surmised. “Maybe you’re hungry. Babies usually cry when they’re hungry. Is that right, preziosa? Shall we find you something to eat?”

Nicky doubted the duckling understood any of what he was saying, but she responded to his tone, nuzzling her tiny beak into his hand. He took that as a yes. Nicky climbed out of bed with a yawn, stretching thoughtfully as he walked over to the clothing trunk to get dressed.

That was how, ten minutes later, Joe walked in on Nicky standing at the kitchen table in yellow sleeping shorts and a yellow t-shirt, slicing green grapes in half as a very energetic duckling devoured them happily. Joe felt his lips curl up into a hopelessly wide smile.

“When Andy told me you had a surprise for me, this is not what I expected.”

Nicky dropped the knife and whirled around, practically throwing himself across the kitchen in his haste to wrap Joe up in his arms. Joe gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He clung to Nicky, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in. God, how he had missed him. Finally - finally- Joe felt like he was home.

After a few moments, Nicky pulled back, eyes shining as he cupped Joe’s face in his hands. “You stink,” he accused, before kissing him soundly. Joe’s protests died in his throat, and he grinned into the kiss, feeling full to the brim with happiness. He marveled quietly at his husband’s ability to make 900 years seem like the blink of an eye. Perhaps his body had stopped aging centuries ago, but it was only in his Nicolò’s arms that Joe still felt 31.

Eventually, a series of tentative chirps interrupted them, and they broke apart, laughing.

“Aww, amore mio, how rude! You haven’t introduced us yet,” Joe quipped, gesturing between himself and the duckling.

“Ah,” Nicky smiles sheepishly. “Joe, this is…a duckling. Duckling, this is Joe - remember the one I was telling you about by the pond? The one with a smile like sunshine, sweetest person you’ll ever meet?”

Nicky turned, and Joe kissed him again, impossibly more in love than he’d ever been in his life. The idea of his husband waxing poetic about him to ducklings in a pond was just too adorable to bear.

Later that afternoon, after Joe’s valiant but fruitless attempt to potty train the duckling and Nicky’s stoic re-sanitation of their patio threshold, they decided to swaddle the drowsy baby in a soft washcloth and watch a movie together while she napped. They sat on the loveseat Andy and Booker had carried in last night, the duckling nestled comfortably between them. Both of them elected to watch a soppy romantic indie they’d seen a hundred times before instead of the new action flick; it was Joe’s first day back, after all, and he’d really had enough of gunfire for a very long time. Nicky couldn’t agree more.

Around halfway through, Joe leaned forward and paused the laptop. He stroked a finger gently down the sleeping duckling’s back, and then looked up at Nicky.

“Did you really not pick out a name for her yet, amore?”

Nicky shrugged his shoulders with a half-smile. “I figured that’s your department, no? Coming up with something melodious, beautiful. Poetic. Some worthy descriptor for this lovely little creature.” Nicky yawned. Maybe the duckling’s need for sleep was rubbing off on him. “You’re the creative one.”

Joe gasped in mock offense. “You are creative!” he whispered insistently.

Nicky laughed softly. “Yes, coming up with ways to keep you enamored for nine centuries does take creativity.”

“You could laze about on this couch for the next nine centuries and I’d still love you more than life itself.”

Joe’s retort was very matter-of-fact, but Nicky melted like sugar in a flame. Given how often his husband said things like that, he didn’t see how it was possible to be caught off guard every single time. To be stunned into speechlessness, heart alive with emotion his tongue knew no words for. It made Nicky realize what the poets meant when they compared love to a river of fire that could only be crossed by drowning.

“I know, hayati,” he replied at length, leaning in for a kiss. “Believe me, I know.” Nicky did not add that he felt the same, that if they never so much as left this house for another millennia, their love would only continue to grow - but Joe heard it anyway.

The next evening, Nicky finished showering and, after a moment of contemplation, opted for a mustard-yellow sweatshirt and last night’s sleeping shorts. As he walked towards the kitchen to make dinner, he decided to ask Joe to run down to the local pet store and pick up a bag or two of proper duck feed. The duckling could only be expected to eat grape halves for so long. He reached the kitchen and promptly froze in the doorway.

On the counter was a large steel basin filled with water. Inside the basin was a very happy duckling, splashing around gleefully. Next to the counter was a rather disgruntled Joe, soaking wet and trying in vain to coax the duckling into staying still long enough for him to rub a little Dawn soap onto her back.

“Wallahi, Nicolina, a little soap doesn’t hurt! Come on, baths are nice. You’ll like it, I promise. Would you rather smell like pond water, or, uhh…” Joe squinted at the soap bottle. “It doesn’t say what scent this is, actually. But I’m sure it’s better than pond water, don’t you think?”

“Joe, what are you doing?” Nicky laughed from the doorway.

“Nicky! Oh, thank God you’re here.” The duckling seemed to agree, chirping excitedly at Nicky as he walked towards them. “Give me a hand, amore. Nicolina doesn’t like soap.”

“You’re calling her Nicolina?!”

“It suits her. She’s just a miniature you, see?” Joe managed to seize the duckling and hold it up next to Nicky. “Both yellow, both don’t like soap-”

“I like soap!”

“Both like to swim,” Joe continued, ignoring Nicky and putting the duckling back into the warm water.

“And I’m only wearing yellow to make the duckling feel more…at home, you know?”

“Pekin ducks are white, Nicky.”

“Well, this one’s clearly yellow.”

“That’s because it’s a baby. Mother ducks are white.”

Nicky shook his head to clear it. He’d definitely come in here with the intention of telling Joe something else, not arguing about duck colors.

“Oh, right! Joe, I meant to ask you - could you get duckling feed from the pet store while I make something for dinner? After you’re finished bathing her, of course. That way she’ll have something nutritious to eat tonight.”

Joe nodded, and then leveled Nicky with his best poker face, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “Who will have something nutritious to eat, amore?”

“She will.”

“Who?”

“The duckling, Joe.”

“Yes, but the duckling has a name, right?”

“ I am not calling her that.”

“Però-”

“Yusuf al-Kaysani, I swear-”

Joe put on his best puppy face. “But you said I could name her anything I want!”

“I said you could name her something beautiful and meaningful.”

“There is no name more beautiful and meaningful to me than yours, Nicolò. You asked me to find a worthy descriptor for her - and I found no better way to honor her charm and kindness than to name her after you. You stole my heart the moment I saw you, and she did the same. What can I do? It’s perfect.”

Nicky gaped at his husband. “Wha- I- You- Hayati! You can’t just say things like that!”

Joe gave a tiny smile, trying to hide his triumph and failing spectacularly. Nicky threw his hands up in surrender, circling around the counter to thoroughly kiss the smug look off Joe’s face.

“So the name can stay, then?” Joe asked, a little breathlessly, when Nicky pulled back.

“Don’t ask questions which you already know the answer to,” Nicky scolded, kissing him again. “Now go pick up duck feed before the pet store closes. Remember, if Nicolina doesn’t get dinner, then neither will you.”

Joe burst out laughing. He stashed the bottle of Dawn soap next to the sink, waving an alacritous finger at the duckling as he scrambled out of the kitchen. “Looks like you’re off the hook for today, little one!” Nicolina splashed and quacked enthusiastically in response. “Nicky, there’s a clean towel next to the basin to dry her off with. Can you-”

“I’ve got it, love. I’ll finish up here before starting dinner.”

“Grazie mille, see you in ten!” Joe called from the living room, grabbing his wallet and heading out the door. Nicky sighed, reveling in the peace of the moment, silent but for the gentle splashes and chirps of the duckling in front of him. Eventually, he picked up the towel.

“Alright, Nicolina. Let’s get you dry and warm for your nap, shall we?”

The next few weeks passed happily, with Nicolina becoming a central part of their family. She was extremely intelligent, managing to figure out potty training by the end of week two. It took until week three to convince her that soapy baths were a good thing, but she grew to love it enough that as soon as a bubble bath was prepared, she would hop in of her own volition. Both Joe and Nicky were ecstatic. By the time week four was drawing to a close, Nicolina had even learned how to turn her heat lamp on and off by herself, by stepping on the switch.

One evening, as Nicky was walking back to the cottage after running an errand, he was struck by a thought. Tomorrow, he realized, would be the one-month anniversary of having found Nicolina by the lake. Since the duckling wouldn’t be with them for a full year, this was probably their best chance to have a first birthday celebration for her. He pulled out his phone and hit recent.

“Hello, Joe?” He paused as Joe spoke. “Yes, yes, the post office was open. It went smoothly. Yeah - I wanted to ask, can you feed Nicolina and whip something up for dinner? I just remembered a thing; I’ll have to take a bit of a detour.” On the other end, Joe grumbled something about Nicky going on impromptu shopping trips without him. “I never said I was going shopping!” Nicky laughed. “But you’re right, as usual. Tell me, hayati, how am I supposed to surprise you with what I buy if I take you with me?”

The next morning, Nicky snuck out of bed before either Joe or Nicolina were awake. He decorated the living room of their cottage with baby blue and yellow balloons - some hanging off the roof and walls, others rolling around lackadaisically on the floor. Then, he puttered around the kitchen for a bit, mixing batter and putting two cakes in the oven to bake: a regular one, and a special miniature one made with all duck-friendly ingredients.

Miraculously, neither of his housemates had woken up to all the ruckus he’d made in the kitchen. Nicky tip-toed back into the bedroom and quietly slid a dress box from beneath the bed. He went to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

When he’d stopped at a clothing shop the previous night, Nicky had honestly been dismayed at the lack of birthday-appropriate formal wear available for men in any color other than dark blue, black, or tan. Certainly there was nothing even approaching some semblance of duckling yellow. Nicky had sighed in frustration - he should have brought Joe along after all. Joe would have known what to do.

Nicky could almost imagine his husband’s gleeful smile. “Amore, try this!” he would say, gesturing to the obnoxious excuse for a suit on Nicky’s right. “Or no, wait - what about this?” Nicky’s gaze had snagged on a lovely light yellow dress, on display in the women’s section across the aisle. It was a simple a-line dress with short sleeves and a flowy skirt that would probably come down to a little above his knee. There was no print, only a few tiny red flowers embroidered at the hem and on one sleeve. Also, it had pockets.

In his head, Nicky imagined Joe, who would have suggested the dress as a joke, tracking Nicky’s interest and suddenly getting on his soapbox about how men can wear dresses, too, because gendering clothing is stupid and outdated, and really, it was supposed to be hot tomorrow, did Nicky really want to spend Nicolina’s first birthday all uncomfortable in a scratchy suit, and…

Before he could second-guess himself, Nicky took the dress off the rack. He skipped the fitting room and decided to just pray that it looked good on him instead. He’d made his purchases and been halfway across the street when he realized that he hadn’t picked one out for Joe. He’d immediately turned and started walking back, earning a confused honk from a taxi driver who had to swerve to avoid him.

That was the story of how, on the morning of Nicolina’s first-month birthday, Joe came into the living room to see his husband in a stunning pastel-yellow dress, glowing like the sun itself among a shower of blue and gold balloons, playing peek-a-boo with a delighted duckling perched on the coffee table. Warmth and sunlight streamed through the open patio, and the air smelled sweetly of vanilla and cinnamon.

Joe pressed a hand to his heart, so overwhelmed with love that he was physically unable to breathe for a few seconds. Looking back, he prided himself on being able to remain standing at all. It shouldn’t be humanly possible, he thought, to fully and truly embody perfection to the degree that his Nicolò did. Joe smiled at the irony - he sometimes forgot that the very basis of their existence itself wasn’t humanly possible.

Nicolina spotted Joe first, and ran excitedly off the end of the table in a wildly risky attempt to take flight. Nicky gasped and lunged after her, managing to catch her before she hit the floor. “Nicolina, what the-”

He looked at Joe, standing open-mouthed in the living room entrance, and smiled. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

“You’re beautiful,” Joe blurted out, like a thirteen-year-old talking to his crush. He frowned. Surely, Nicky’s current state of dress deserved something more poetic.

But Nicky’s smile only widened. “I’m so glad you like it, Joe. I have to confess, I had my doubts. But the look on your face convinces me I made the right decision.”

Joe opened his mouth to say, yes, yes this was absolutely the right decision, this might have been the best decision ever - but what really came out of his mouth was “Uh. Yeah. Can I, um. I really want to kiss you. If you want.”

Apparently, he would continue to be possessed by the ghost of an incoherent and besotted teenager for as long as Nicky was wearing this damn dress. Fortunately, Nicky seemed to find this endearing, laughing as he gently deposited Nicolina in his pocket - omg, it has pockets! - and walked up to Joe. He reached out to cradle Joe’s face in his hands, gazing at him like all the stars were in his eyes. Joe, who had just gotten out of bed and hadn’t even combed his hair, couldn’t imagine what Nicky was seeing, but the next moment, their lips were pressed together in a tender, blissful embrace, and every other thought in Joe’s head dissolved like salt in the ocean.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Nicky exclaimed, pulling back all too soon. “I got one for you, too! It’s in a dress box under the bed. Would you be interested?”

Joe blinked as his brain caught up. “One for me?”

“Yes, and don’t worry, I picked something you’ll like. It’s not tacky or unfashionable, I promise-”

“I like everything you pick.”

“That’s not true, you didn’t like the t-shirt I wore two days ago-”

“I like everything you pick for me.”

Nicky paused, trying to find a counterexample. “Ah. I guess you do. Well, go try this one on, then! Let’s see.”

Five minutes later, when Joe hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom in his new dress, Nicky realized that he had vastly overestimated his own ability to remain a functioning member of society with Joe looking like that. Even Nicolina, now resting quietly on a bunched-up blanket on the couch, couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him.

“Well?” Joe asked, giving an experimental twirl that did nothing for Nicky’s screaming brain. “Does it look okay?”

Joe was wearing a knee-length deep teal sheath dress with a dribble of silver sequins spilling down one side like stardust. A shallow v-neck gave way to a sleeveless top, and the richly colored fabric fit snugly against his hips in a way that had not been nearly so breathtaking on the mannequin. Like Nicky’s own, this dress was simple, without excess print or decoration. Still, the way it looked on Joe as he stood there, smiling a little shyly in the late morning sunlight, left Nicky stunned.

He tried to speak around the sudden dryness in his mouth, but no sound came out. Rather, Nicolina chirped up first, quacking approvingly from her comfy spot on the couch. Joe grinned, crouching down next to the duckling.

“Aww, thank you, little one. At least someone has feedback for me.” Nicolina nuzzled her beak into his cheek affectionately.

Nicky sat back down on the couch and put his head in his hands. Joe glanced up.

“Nicky?” he asked, a little worried now. He walked over and sat down next to him. “Amati, is everything alright? Do you not like it? I can change back-”

“Mashallah, Yusuf,” Nicky said hoarsely, taking Joe’s hands in his. When he looked up, Joe was shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes. “It’s just - you are the most beautiful, wonderful, miraculous being that God has ever created, and I never forget this, but sometimes I am reminded anew and I just- I am left in awe of you, of your endless love and beauty. I can’t handle any of this. You’re too handsome, too kind. I wish I had one hundred hearts to love you with.” He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

For the second time that day, Joe was rendered utterly speechless. On Nicky’s other side, Nicolina whimpered worriedly, climbing out of her blanket nest and nosing at his elbow. He chuckled wetly, reaching out to pet her.

“I’m fine, piccolo mio. Better than fine. Don’t worry.” To Joe, he said, “Sorry. I’m overreacting.”

“No,” Joe mumbled. He dropped his head to Nicky’s shoulder, reverently bringing their joined hands to his lips. “Ti amo, Nicolò. So much. Thank you.”

Nicolina clambered onto Nicky’s lap, snuggling close to him for warmth. Nicky caressed her downy feathers comfortingly. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Joe’s head. It had been a busy morning, and they still had big plans for the day, Nicky knew. A nice long walk in the park, visiting Nicolina’s pond, eating cake, maybe going out somewhere fancy for lunch or dinner (somewhere that allowed pets; he would have to google it). But for now, he allowed himself to just breathe, swathed in bone-deep contentment.

Over the course of the next month, they took Nicolina to the pond every single day. By week five, her feathers were growing out in earnest, and she could fly quite reliably. In week six, Nicky and Joe got comfortable leaving her at the pond unsupervised, using the time to run short errands before returning to pick her up. By week seven, Nicolina would stay out longer and longer, often loathe to leave the water even after the sun had set.

As week eight drew to a close, Nicky reminded Joe to pack an extra jacket for their trip to the pond. Nicolina ran ahead of them excitedly. The pond was always her favorite part of the day. After watching her splash about for a bit, Joe went for a walk around the park, and Nicky left to go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.

When Nicky returned, Joe was back on the bench in front of the pond. For a second, Nicky had a vivid flashback to the evening this all started - he’d been sitting in that very spot, worrying about Joe, when Nicolina had quite literally dropped into his life. He shook his head fondly at the memory.

“Joe?” He approached the bench. Joe looked up at him and smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

“How was groceries?”

“Ah. Nothing too remarkable. A lady spilled a gallon of milk in the aisle where we were waiting to pay, and then we all got distributed into different queues, so it took longer than usual.”

Joe clicked his tongue sympathetically. For the next couple hours, they sat mostly in silence, listening to the sounds of the evening and watching the last rays of sunlight fade from the surface of the pond. As it got dark, the park slowly emptied out, save for a few teenagers roasting marshmallows over a fire pit in the distance.

Nicky sighed deeply, holding his arm out to Joe. Joe scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Nicky’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder.

“She’s not coming back tonight, is she,” Joe whispered. Nicky squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer.

“Got attached, Yusuf?”

Joe huffed. “Two months is nothing in the span of centuries, right? So why…” He trailed off, but Nicky heard what was left unspoken.

“The heart only knows how to live in the present, hayati. That is why it falls in love. That is why it cries when something ends. Even if we always knew it would.”

“You’re so composed - won’t you miss her?”

“I will. Terribly so. It just hasn’t sunk in yet, so I can offer you wisdom like a hypocrite.”

Joe smiled sadly. “When it sinks in, I’ll do the same for you.”

“I know, my love. My all.” After a few minutes, he said, “Give me that extra jacket.” Joe handed it to him, and Nicky shook it out, wrapping it like a blanket around Joe’s shoulders. “Lie down.” Joe lay his head in Nicky’s lap, stretching his feet out onto the bench. Nicky wove his fingers through Joe’s hair calmingly. “Alright?”

“Mhm. Nicky?”

“Yes?”

“Are we staying the night?”

“We can stay as long as you want.” ___

“The end,” Nicky said with a flourish.

“Wait, what?” Nile lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously. “What do you mean, the end? You never saw her again?”

“Of course we saw her again,” Joe answered from the floor. “We walked by the pond several times a week, and she would always swim over to say hi when she saw us. It was the sweetest thing.”

“About a month later,” Nicky picked up the narrative, “Booker got back from Germany and Andy from Portugal. We took a series of back-to-back missions after that, and didn’t get to return to Genoa until early spring.”

Joe’s phone buzzed on the counter, and he got up to go check it.

“Mhm, and then?” Nile prompted.

“Well, when we got back, we came by the pond to see if the ducks had returned to their northern habitats yet. As we stood by the water, one duck, a beautiful, white bird, swam gracefully up to us and nuzzled our ankles for a bit. She looked really happy to see us.”

“Oh my gosh - Nicolina?!”

Nicky smiled in confirmation. “Do you know, she had a mate? He was quite lovely, too. They made a good pair.”

“Wow,” Nile breathed. “That’s so awesome.”

“Guys, look at this.” Joe walked back to them, phone outstretched. “A message from Booker.”

Nicky took the phone, and Nile leaned over to see. On the screen was a photo of Andy curled up next to a Vietnamese woman that Nile had only ever seen before in her dreams. Quynh, she knew. Andy was fast asleep, and Quynh smiled serenely at the camera. Her eyes looked like she had been crying, but her happiness was evident, even in the hastily taken picture. The message beneath it read “they’re letting me stay the night,” followed by a tentative thumbs up and smiley face.

Nicky grinned. “Oh, God. I can’t wait to see her. And look at them - I told you, Joe.”

Joe leaned in for a quick kiss. “I never doubted it.”

[zombieratt]

Alright so forewarning this is LONG as FUCK specifically because i came up with this idea in early high school and was just today POSESSEd By the Spirit Of Musical Theatre to put it to paper— er Tumblr.

So without further ado:

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BUT EVAN ISNT A TERRIBLE PERSON AND CONNOR LIVES.

the beginning is the same, canon diverges just after waving through a window.

*this ended up getting written is script format? i also just sorta ignore alana’s whole exsistance bc in this version of the play she’s unnecessary*

In the moments before he talks to Connor evan decides to omit Zoe from his letter, having resolved himself to move on from her. (instead of being a hella creep.)

Connor: “dear Evan Hansen,” what are you writing letters to yourself? *he laughs*

Evan: its, uh, its for my therapist. its just a stupid little assignment that she says is supposed to help me process my feelings or— uh or something

Connor: hm. here. * hands Evan the letter*

Connor: your cast. no one’s signed it.

Evan: uh no. no one has.

Connor: gotta sharpie?

Evan: huh?

Connor: gotta sharpie? im gonna sign it.

Evan: *handing the sharpie to Connor* w- whuh uh why?

Connor: *shrugs* feels right.

Evan: i wish i could do that

Connor: what?

Evan: UH, IMEAN—

Connor: no wait- dude.

Evan: i mean uh, i meant that i wish i could just be, y’know impulsive like that.

Connor: Why Cant you be?

Evan: i uh, my heads pretty messed up, and stuff like that just, makes it worse i guess.

Connor: well theres some thing we have in common— were both fucked up in the head.

*the bell rings*

Evan: oh shoot! i missed the bus—

Connor: i’ll give you a ride.

Evan: are you sure i mean i can walk its not far-

Connor: all the more reason, i probably have to pass it on my way home anyway, cmon.

——

they meet Zoe in the parking lot

Zoe: I have Late practice today

Connor: whatever, gotta passenger.

Zoe: who the fuck would be crazy enough to trust your ability to drive?

Evan *being Brave*: Me Apparently?

Zoe: Uh, Evan Right?

Evan: yeah, uh, yeah.

Zoe *holding her hand out to be shaken*: i’m Zoe, we’ve met though right?

Evan wipes his hand on his shirt and shakes it: yeah, uh, nice to formally meet you, Zoe.

Zoe: i’m off, don’t kill him stoner.

Connor: i wont Princess

Evan breathing heavy: that was,, an eventful ten minutes.

Connor: oh fuck— you cool? or—

Evan: Panic Attack.

Connor: Right, uh

Connor: can you get in the car?

Evan: yeah

*car nonsense*

Connor: Can i start driving or do you want me to wait

Evan: Distractions are good,, Can Uh, Can you Talk about Stuff?

Connor: What stuff!??

Evan: any Stuff!

Connor: Is Zoe okay??

Evan: Sure?!

Connor: Uhh we don’t get along as well as we used to?

we were really close as kids, shes a huge asshole now but *fully venting now*

i kind of miss it you know? having someone to talk to and care about— and i still care about her— but its scary and i always fuck it up! not to mention the fact that our parents hate me— make her see me as some alien and not just a fucked up kid who wants to talk and — (more ranting that i dont feel like writing, but its a whole monologue bro)

Evan: Connor

Connor snaps his mouf shut: yeah

Evan: thanks

Connor: oh that, uh actually helped?

Evan: yeah focusing on your voice and whats real and stuff— it makes a difference.

Neither of them noticed that Connor was just sort of Driving. they end up at the park where in canon Connor commits Sewer-slide.

Evan: i didn’t know there was a park here.

Connor: huh, oh, yeah i guess i just sorta auto piloted, i come here to think.

Evan: About stuff?

Connor: Yeah, Stuff.

*the convo lulls*

Connor: do you have a laptop?

Evan: no, i uh, i left it at home? why?

Connor: give me a second

Connor walks to the car and grabs his back pack out of the back seat

Evan watches Quizzically from the swing-set

Connor pulls out a Sketch Pad and Pen, flipping to a clean page.

Connor: So tell me how to write one of those letters of yours.

Evan: uh, well you start like any other letter- just addressing it to yourself

Connor writing: Dear Connor Murphy,

Evan: and uh, my first one was supposed to be about my ideal summer vacation? since i started in middle school- but you don’t have to—

Connor: thats perfect.

Connor starts to sing for forever,

eventually Evan joins in there is a minor gay moment where they’re holding hands face to face.

the song ends with Connor hugging Evan.

Evan: its- its pretty late.

Connor obviously crying: just— just a couple more minutes.

Evan lets go and grabs Connors sketch book of the ground, closing it and handing it off to him: then how about this, labor day weekend- we actually go.

Connor: what are you talking about?

Evan: being spontaneous?

Connor: o-okay.

and it cuts to black.

theres a small montage here, as the set changes to Connor and Evans bedrooms

sincerely, me is a lament in this context, Connor and Evan are duetting from their respective rooms, writing to themselves.

(the lyrics are completely different and i will not be writing them here because thats too much fucking effort.

but they’re duetting from their bedrooms about making a connection to another person, feeling seen, for the first time. what it felt like and how they really want to keep it up but are afraid of making a mistake and ruining it.

its got some themes of waving thru a window, and a little bit of for forever, but its still largely the same notes just in a different key.)

after wards, Zoe knocks on Connors door to tell him dinner is ready to find him peacefully asleep.

requiem is the same, Zoe sees Connor as Dead to Her instead of actually dead, so some of the wording changes, so and so about how a monster doesn’t deserve peaceful rest etcetera.

school day happens, Connor doesn’t die, but the hot goss is that everyone saw Connor and Evan go home together after school, jared makes a shitty homophobic joke to Evan and Evan kind of tells him off about it. they argue and it culminates in Evan saying “well god forbid I’m friends with someone who isn’t YOU!” or smth like tht and it hits jared right the fuck at home man.

Connor says from the side lines: damn that was pretty hard core dude.

Evan: you have, no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.

Connor honest to god l a u g h s, theres a number of people who hear it and lose their shit, Zoe being one of them: i have a pretty good idea, wanna get some lunch?

Evan: yeah, sure.

this general routine continues until labor day weekend, when they plan to go on their little escape. theres a short scene of Connor leaving the house with his keys and a backpack.

Connors mom confronts Zoe about his oddly upbeat attitude and hows he’s seemed differently lately Zoe Shrugs but decides to investigate his room.

she finds the letters. the first one is for forever, the theme plays as she reads it frantically, and is signed “Sincerely me (connor murphy)” so she knows its him, i f i could tell her begins but its a real duet between Connor and Zoe and at the end she resolves to try harder to connect to him.

Evan sings disappear to Connor after breaking into a formerly public park, in this context its him confessing that he broke his arm attempting su!c!de. Connor records it, for personal reference.

jared hacks Connors phone and steals the video, posting it to yt, in an effort to ruin their friendship.

Evan and Connor get in a little fight about it, and in the meantime Evan is called to the school to give an assembly because hes a phenomenal speaker and Disappear got like 1000000 views over night.

Zoe and Connor bond a little bit in a short scene before the assembly

Zoe: wheres Evan what happened?

Connor: Kleinman Did!

Zoe: what?

Connor: Why Do you care?

Zoe: because! you look happy around him!

Connor: i, i do?

Zoe: yeah? he could tell the worst joke ever written and you’d crack up. i haven’t heard you laugh like that in years Connor, maybe ever.

Connor: oh.

Zoe: Come back inside?

Connor: y, Yeah.

they all perform You Will Be Found together.

end act 1.

(no more dialogue from here i got tired)

to break in a glove is Connor’s dad trying to reconnect with him, it goes mediocrely, but Connor feels like hes being seen by his dad for the first time in years. its said in metaphors, but this is Connors dads way of saying that if Connor is willing to put in the work, so is he. they hug at the end, things are looking up. some talk of therapy is sprinkiled in the dialogue as they walk of stage together.

Only Us is Evan and Connor saying that they saved each other. its loosely romantic, as its a love song, but they don’t out right say that they’re in love or anything, they don’t know if theyre ready for that. its a promise. the song ends with Connor finally apologizing for pushing Evan over at the beginning of the show.

good for you is sung by jared only, as a power ballad, about losing people you didn’t treasure. its his attempt at an apology, but it ultimately fails, since jared is unable to take responsibility for his own actions. this is where jared and Evan go their separate ways.

Evan’s mom comforts him, as he sings words fail, which is about specifically jared, and how their rocky friendship is ruined and Evan pegs himself as the cause, instead of parents or perfect girl he uses metaphors that apply to best friends— maybe more. and talks about how he didn’t try, he was happy so he ignored that jared was hurting, and how that was really shitty of him. but instead of it being a generally somber song the end is lighter, because Connor is there— waving through his front window.

Evans mom sings So Big/So Small as Evan steps out the front door to embrace Connor and they mime talking about jared, hug and take hands. the house moves off stage in preparation for the finale.

Connor and Evan open the finale saying each others names, and sing it together as the test of the cast (minus jared) joins in, Evans mom taking his hand and Zoe Taking Connors, Evans mom the Murphys and Zoe break off to the back where Evan and Connor finish the final “all i see is sky for forever” while looking into each others eyes, and finish the musical by embracing (maybe kissing if thats ur jam).

[justjessame]

Glorious, Before the Burden: The Mourning ~ 11

Magic blossoms, like the flowers in my garden, and as I grew more comfortable in my new home my power subtly grew and changed as well.  

If I were honest, during my marriage, I had little need to continue to cultivate my powers - Loki’s surprise at how they’d grown and evolved wasn’t completely without merit.  I’d never had the need to prove myself to him, to show him how powerful I was, or how far reaching my abilities could go.  And to be transparent with even myself, I hadn’t known all that I could do.  

Why would I?  

I had been wrapped up in my love for him.  So complete in my role as his partner in life and love, as his wife - so consumed in my worry that I was a failure in the ONE thing that I hadn’t been able to give him; an heir - that I somehow missed when he stopped communicating his hopes, plans, and dreams that turned to fears and worries to ME.  

Banished to a realm that would forever be linked in my heart and mind with my love and - FINE, my obsession - with Loki, I not only was tortured with memories of our past, with pieces and flickers of what I had imagine were attempts between us to reconnect in our present, but as if these portions of my life and my misery weren’t enough - my mind chose to retreat further back, to my time under Frigga’s tutelage.  

“Sigyn,” my queen and a woman who I’d thought of with more affection than my own mother, at least for a time, broke through what must have been a daydreaming session.  “While I am sure that whatever you see through that stone wall is extremely fascinating,” her lips were twitching with an urge to smile, but she was fighting it with a practice that came from being the mother of two boys like Thor and Loki.  “I must insist that you keep your attention on what I’m trying to teach you.”  

It had been so difficult, at least when I’d first arrived.  To keep my mind focused on what Frigga was so entirely adamant that I learn.  To listen when every part and particle of my being wanted to run - to rush outside and go - somewhere.  

“I was raised by witches,” Frigga would tell us, her eyes on me in particular.  “They often told me that being raised and taught by witches, taught to harness power and to use it, whether it was easy and naturally based could be given and learned by anyone who was willing to open their minds enough to LEARN it.”  I sat still and erect, as a young woman of my status was supposed to, but I wanted to fidget - to twitch and move.  “There are others, though,” it seemed as though her eyes lit up, as if a glow came over her as she stared straight into mine.  “Witches born with power truly unlimited - or limited only by their own choices.”  Her smile was soft.  “Natural witches are more rare than I can explain.  To be born with the power that I simply learned by the grace of those who raised me -” She sighed.  “That is a true gift.”  

“NATURAL WITCH,” I typed into the laptop that Michael had set up on the small table that I’d utilized as a desk.  Perhaps, if what he’d said was to be believed, the internet would give me somewhere to start - some way for me to learn how I could evolve and aid my powers now that I had no teacher on hand to help me.  If my memories were leading me back to that moment, to that lecture, then clearly - 

“How long have you been staring at that screen?” Michael’s voice barely breaches my concentration, so focused am I on what I’m learning.  “Sigyn, come, you must eat something.” 

His soft touch on my shoulder finally wakes me from the words piercing through my mind and into my understanding.  What Frigga couldn’t teach me, what she couldn’t help me learn.  That I alone had to harness, truly grasp my power and then grow it through both use and - I could almost laugh at the simpleness of it - LISTENING to it.  

“Sigyn,” I looked up to see him staring down at me with a wrinkled brow, his worry about me etched so clearly upon his face that I could read it as easily as the words that seemed to be floating before my eyes from the screen.  “Come, eat.”  

“Yes, of course,” patting his hand, I stood and walked with him to my small kitchen.  I made lunch absently, but managed to make it edible and we were soon seated at the small table overlooking my garden.  We ate in the kind of companionable silence that comes from an easy friendship, but I should have known that it was a temporary quiet. As soon as our plates were cleared, the conversation had to start. 

“Are you planning on telling me what had you so captivated on the laptop that you forgot to eat?”  Michael was studying me while I considered whether or not to share what I was coming to understand about myself.  “Don’t feel obligated,” he shook his head, a kind smile on his lips, and I felt like a wretched wastral.  

“Elizabeth,” I was trying to find the best way to explain, and from the beginning, at least where HE knew the beginning to be might be the best place.  “When she met me, when I arrived here the first time -” he nodded, and I went on.  “Loki and I were still learning how we FELT about one another.  He is older than me, and I -” My teeth worried my lower lip, the thought of him torturing himself for my suicide pressed down on me, making me want to learn more about my power - to find a way back to him.  “Maybe I should start at the REAL beginning.”  

“The Big Bang?”  Michael teased, but I knew he was trying to calm me down.  “Start wherever you want, Sigyn, but please -”

Nodding, I tried again.  “The first time I met Loki’s mother, Frigga and his father, Odin -” I couldn’t remember it, not really.  I was far too young.  “In Asgard, children aren’t hidden away.  We think that children learn by being seen and heard.  Questions aren’t seen as inconvenient, they’re seen as signs of active minds.”  I smiled.  “My parents -” my eyes dropped to the table top.  “They didn’t bring me to meet Frigga and Odin as soon as was deemed normal, it raised questions, and not the good type.”  I’d learned this much later, after I’d been married for some time.  “When Frigga insisted,” I thought of how she’d told me about my glow.  “I made a lasting impression.”

“Course you did,” Michael grunted, causing me to look up.  His eyes seemed to twinkle and a dimple appeared in his cheek.  “Who couldn’t see how special you are?”  

“Yes, well -” the burn of my blush didn’t deter me.  “Frigga asked that I come to train under her when I reached my tenth year - magic you see was something she felt I could learn to harness.”  Michael tilted his head to let me know I should continue.  “She didn’t come out and tell me, but I - I’ve been having dreams, memories really - and I think I know why she insisted I be taught by her and why my parents had been so hesitant to bring me into the light.”  

“Why’s that?”  My adopted Midgardian grandfather waited to hear exactly what my own parents had seen as shameful and what my future mother-in-law had deemed worthy of marrying into her family.  

“I’m a naturally born witch,” he didn’t seem impressed.  “They’re extremely rare in our realm.  Frigga herself was raised by and trained by witches, but she wasn’t BORN one.”  

“How’d she teach you then?”  He was confused and I would have laughed, but I had my own bouts of uncertainty.  “What did she teach you?”  

Sighing, I sat back and shook my head.  “She taught everyone how to harness energy, from what I can gather, parlor tricks you’d call them.”  I bit my lip.  “Illusions, enough to get by, but what she taught me?”  I felt my stomach knot and my heart thud painfully.  “She taught me that I could only count on myself when it came to this.”  

We talked for hours, back at the laptop with Michael helping me search for more information with his far greater knowledge of the internet.  

“How would your powers differ from what you already know how to do?”  He asked, as we navigated through sites, flickering images of television shows and movies.  

“I should be able to sense future events,” I murmured, staring at what Midgardians considered magic.  “Premonitions, as well as picking through past memories -” as I had to gather what I had from Frigga’s breadcrumbs.  

He hummed, clicking on another site, I stopped him before he could close the window.  There was a rune that I knew well.  “What is it?”  

“I know this,” my finger traced it and I felt as deeply as I’d felt when he’d traced the symbol on my skin.  “It means ‘eternal love’.” I could hear Loki’s voice, as he reminded me every time he traced it on my skin, still glistening from our lovemaking.  I didn’t notice that I was crying until the tear dropped onto my lip.  Swiping it away, I shook my head.  “I’m sorry, you can close it.”  

“Hey,” he turned and pulled me into his arms.  Soft and kind, he held me as I sobbed.  “I keep forgetting that you’ve lost him, that you haven’t any way to -” he sighed and patted my back, just like a grandfather would.  “Will learning more about your powers help you figure out a way back?”  

I knew precisely what he meant.  Would finding a way to grow and evolve my innate abilities help me find a path home?  And I knew he was trying to distract me from my grief and pain at not being with Loki, but it worked.  Nodding and focusing on that goal, I managed to get myself back under control.  Michael held me until he felt I was more stable and calm, then smiled kindly at me as I pulled away.  

“Thank you,” it felt far too meager for all he’d given me, but he just shook his head.  

“You’ve given me a purpose,” his smile grew.  “Before you flashed into existence in front of me, I had nothing to occupy my time.  Now I have you to keep me company.”  

I wondered if he understood that if my powers grew and flourished enough to give me a way back to Loki and Asgard then I’d no longer be here to offer that for him, but he just patted my hand and turned back to the laptop to keep the search going. 

[highqueenofelfhame]

rules of engagement, one.

On the afternoon that Rowan Whitethorn had declared to the bitch-boss that he and Celaena were getting married, he had gone downtown to speak with an immigration agent about the paperwork that would need to be filed in order for the whole issue to go away. As it turned out, in order for him to get a marriage visa, they would have to go through an entire slew of interviews because of how frequently people used quickie marriages to avoid deportation. In two weeks, they had an interview with an immigration officer, during which they would be asked all sorts of personal questions about the other, questions about their life together, and questions about their future plans and endeavors. Celaena knew she would pass with flying colors.

For the last two years, she had been working directly with Rowan as his personal assistant, and she could gauge what he wanted to eat for lunch based on his moods. She knew his medical history and major hospitalizations, she knew what his tattoo said that spiraled down his left arm and abdomen that was written in a near dead language; and she even knew the address for his penthouse in Doranelle. Rowan, however, wasn’t going to know the answers to any of the questions that were going to be asked except for maybe what color her eyes were. Even that, though, she thought might be a stretch. Had he even noticed?

Celaena’s long and nimble fingers flipped through the papers in the folder in her hands, eyes skimming the three-hundred something odd questions that were listed. With an annoyed sigh, she closed it and dropped it back onto the table that separated them on the private jet they flew on.

“You should start asking and start studying, I can answer all of that about you,” she said, turning her head to gaze out of the window at the high peaks of the Staghorn mountains that she could make out through thick clouds.

Home. She was almost home for the first time in two years. Celaena could feel Rowan’s gaze on her for a minute before the shuffling of paper followed, likely from him opening the folder and selecting a page and question at random.

“All of this?”

“All of it.” Celaena shifted in her seat to look at him, his pine green gaze boring into hers. After she quirked an eyebrow he sighed and flipped back to the first page and let his gaze slide down the list.

“Tell my what my parents do for a living, and then what yours do.”

Though her muscles momentarily tensed, she didn’t let it show. With a roll of her shoulders, she slid her gaze back over to the window and eyed the white tufts of clouds.

“Your parents passed away when you were twenty-one. Mine are government officials, hence the jet.” When she had first contacted her parents about coming home, it had been completely non-negotiable in terms of travel. They had adamantly insisted that they would come in on a private jet, no questions asked, and she knew better than to argue.

“Do you or I have any siblings?”

“No. We’re both only children, but my cousin is as good as my brother. He’s lived with us most of my life and we’ve always been able to pass as twins.” Celaena said, her lips twitching up at the corners. Just a few more hours and she would get to see Aedion again.

“Your birthday, that’s easy. May third,” Rowan said, half to himself but Celaena started in her seat.

“You know my birthday? From memory?” The disbelief colored her words as confusion etched over her face.

“I’ve given you a gift both years you’ve worked for me. And I tell you happy birthday each time,” Rowan pointed out, moving to flip a page for another question. Something about his posture had changed, like he was pleased with himself for knowing something so simple. His ego had inflated like a bubble, and she was going to burst it.

“Tell me, Rowan Whitethorn,” she leaned forward splaying her fingers wide on the table between them. “What gods—” she placed an anything but innocent hand on his knee, middle finger swirling over his knee cap before making a slow ascent up his thigh— “do I get on my knees for?”

Rowan’s eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite recognize, flicking from her hand to her eyes. Faster than she had time to process, he gripped her hand in his and pushed it off his leg.

“I’m still your boss, Miss Sardothien,” he said tightly, jaw clenched with tension. Celaena snorted.

“Are you going to punish me for my sharp tongue, Mr. Whitethorn?” she drawled, that same tongue tracing over her lips. The way she had mentioned being punished sounded more like she was asking for it rather than scared of it. “My parents say that we are Mala blessed, by the way. That she favors me. That she favors our whole family and I will always be able to achieve anything because she is on my side.”

“What makes your family so special that she would bless your line in such a way?” Rowan asked, leaning back against the leather seat. Celaena’s lips curved up into a smile.

“Do I have children from my last marriage?” She asked, sidestepping his question entirely.

“What?” Rowan’s brows knit together and Aelin shrugged, thanking the stewardess as she was handed a glass of white wine that she gladly took a long sip of. Aelin gestured for him to answer and he opened his mouth, which was turned down in a frown. “I don’t think you have any ch— why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t have children. Or a previous marriage. You, though...” She trailed off as she noted the way his jaw clenched when she turned on him, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. Celaena softened her voice as she sat back in her chair. “You do, though. You don’t have to tell me now but—”

“She was murdered. I’m not talking about that with you.” There was no inflection in his voice, no sign of the pain that flashed in his eyes when she had turned the conversation to his personal life. His voice was flat and his eyes didn’t meet hers again as he sifted through the papers for the next question, which he asked in a tone so far off and distracted that she wondered if she had pushed a little too far on accident. On and on it went, question after question of them volleying answers back and forth until they landed at the airport.

Celaena stayed in her chair until the door was opened and the steps were lowered to the ground, taking a deep breath to still her nerves. Rowan stood and stretched before he started putting his laptop and paperwork back into his bag. Silently, she watched until a man in a suit entered the cabin, his hands folded behind his back.

“Miss… Sardothien,” he said, a slight incline of his head. Celaena chewed on her bottom lip, a nearly imperceptible shake of her head the only signal she could send the man.

“Ren,” she greeted, pushing herself to her feet and lifting her purse from the seat beside her. “A pleasure to see you as always. This is my… boyfriend, Rowan Whitethorn. Rowan, this is Ren. He’ll be around quite a bit this week if we need anything.” Celaena paused and gestured toward the door.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Whitethorn. Ma’am, everything is ready to go if you are.”

The smile that twitched at her lips was involuntary as she broke out into a wide grin. It was almost hard to keep tears at bay, to keep herself from crying. She would save that for when she saw her parents. With a firm nod, they descended the stairs from the plane and immediately got into an all black SUV with windows so dark there was no hope of anyone seeing inside.

The longer the car ride went, the more her leg bounced, the more her fingers tapped. The road home was a long and winding one that wrapped halfway around a mountain. As they came around the back side of the mountain, the grand castle came into view and she sighed. It was something she had loved forever, that initial view of the castle over the hill. Too quickly, though, they were taking a sharp turn and driving seemingly into the side of the mountain, completely surrounded by concrete.

“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?” Rowan joked, the first thing he had really said outside of asking her questions.

Celaena barked out a surprised laugh as she shook her head. Several minutes later they were parked and she was too-eagerly jumping out of the car.

“Where is he?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she turned to Ren.

“His office, ma’am. Would you like me to take Mr. Whitethorn—”

“No, no. He’ll come with me. Thank you, Ren,” Celaena turned to Rowan and grinned.

It was a wicked thing, that smile, a light flashing in the golden core of her eyes as she nodded to the single door that would lead inside. She was too excited to make small talk while she nudged him through the door, running up concrete staircase. They came to a fork in the path and she took the central one, leading him down a short hall to an elevator.

“Where are we?” he asked, eyes shifting from each camera in every corner of the elevator.

Humming to herself, she pushed a button for the ground floor and stayed quiet until the doors opened into a grand foyer. The elevator itself blended in with the wall, you only knew where it was if you knew where it was. The foyer in question was one that guests filtered into for lavish parties, and Celaena couldn’t help but smirk at the wonder and awe that was written on Rowan’s face.

“You’re kidding,” he said flatly as she pulled him over to a wide window down a long hall. “Your parents work in the castle?”

“Yes, they—” Celaena’s voice cut off as she spotted two men walking down the hall toward them.

Both of them were distracted by the conversation they were having, the tall man on the left dressed in an immaculate black suit with his hands in his pockets. His brown hair fell over his forehead as he nodded along to whatever it was the golden-blonde man beside him was saying until they both stopped talking and came to a stop some fifty feet from Celaena and Rowan.

“‘Majesty,” she said, dropping into a low curtsy the same time that Rowan dropped into a confused, but low, bow. She didn’t stay down for long though before she was bounding down the hall and launching herself at the King and his right hand.

“Oh, my love,” the king whispered into her hair, arms wrapping tightly around her body as he squeezed her.

As soon as her feet hit the ground she was jumping onto the other man and squealing as she did, unable to stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. Nothing else mattered— other than finding her mother— except King Rhoe Galathynius and Prince Aedion Ashryver and finally being back in their embraces.

“Are you gonna leave him like that?” Aedion asked her, causing Celaena to turn on her heel and appraise the man she had brought with her into the castle.

The confusion all over his face was better than she ever could have hoped for as she gestured for him to step closer. Hesitantly, he made his way down the hall and stopped a few feet away from her.

“Rowan, I’d like you to meet my father, King Rhoe Galathynius. My cousin, brother,” she shrugged and elbowed Aedion with a wide grin, “Prince Aedion Ashryver.”

“It’s an honor your Majesty, your Highness.” Rowan’s voice was tense as his green eyes fell on the woman standing before him who shot him a coy smile.

“Oh, right, I almost forgot.” She dropped into another low curtsy, her arms out wide as she looked up at him beneath thick lashes. “Crown Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius at your service.” Aelin paused then, thinking of the way he’d demanded she marry him so that he would be able to keep his job in Adarlan before adding, “Asshole.”

@musicmaam @starseternalnighttriumphant @myfeyrelady @city-of-fae @hannreadsalot @kandasboi @rhysands-highlady @empire-of-wildfire @schmlip-scribble @mariamuses @the-regal-warrior @rowanwhitethornss who else am i supposed to be tagging idk 

[peter-parkourwrites]

Heartbreak Summer 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes broke your heart two years ago. Now, after settling down finally in college with your group of old and new friends, he ́s transferred into your school, and maybe back into your heart.

Word Count: uhhh idk

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, slight thor x reader, jealous buckaroo, crying, fluff if you squint

A/N: TAG LIST IS OPEN!! Also uhhh sorry this is a lil late my laptop is broken and i can’t use the schools to post it here so i had to improvise and use my phone for it so thats also why it’s not edited completely 😤 but thank you for reading 💖

Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading loves, I hope you guys like it!

*Gif not mine, credit to owner*

series masterlist

It’s hard to actually pinpoint the exact moment you fell for Bucky, it always has been. Maybe it was when you met. Steve had invited you and Wanda out to one of their highschool football games because he knew Tony would tag along, and you were almost certain he would ask if he was coming. That night he simply ignored anything anyone besides Tony said, leaving yourself, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda to chat. Bucky's whole aura made you giddy, he kept you on your toes and laughing. His blue eyes reminding you of an ocean, that you wouldn’t mind drowning in. Or maybe it was when he saw you walking home in the pouring rain and offered you a ride in his mom's minivan.

Sure, you tell people forever. But that’s only because you’re a bit prone to dramatics. James Buchanan Barnes had your heart, and always would. No matter how many people you dated, you’d always be his. And you realized that, lying awake at five am, the sunrise peeking in through the windows, and showing how much dust you really had in the small room.

“Steve I told you, it’s fine. I’m not mad. A little annoyed, but not mad. I just wish you would have told me.” You sighed, taking the cup of coffee his outstretched arm was holding. “Besides I am so over him. And I have more important shit to focus on than thinking about old flames.”

“What like school? Psh that shit is boring.”

“Wow I must be in another world, first Bucky comes back, and now Steve Rogers is saying ‘shit’? I should just head down to the psych unit in the medical department.” You tease, bringing the cup up to your lips.

“Please, (y/n/n) you work on that floor anyways.”

“Hey! It’s not by choice you idiot, my professor wants us to switch things up every few weeks. But thankfully I start my internship soon.”

“With professor Coulson?”

“Yeah.” You hum and walk over to the couch, that has a plethora of pillows tossed about. “Starting on the pediatric floor I think.” You mumble into the cup of coffee as you slowly lift it up to your lips for another ling sip.

Steve sits across from you on the old black recliner he’s had since you could remember. He loved that squeaky old thing. Even if everytime he actually reclined in it, it’d send him flying violently backwards.

“That’ll be cool, you’ve always been good with kids.”

“Only because of Becca, I called her earlier and told her about it, and she reminded me of when Bucky, you and I had to take care of her. Man that whole weekend was a mess.”

“Yeah we had to beg his parents not to leave us alone for the weekend ever again.” He laughed, crossing an arm over his chest like he was on SNL. You rolled your eyes and finished the rest of the coffee.

“Oh whatever, anyways thanks for letting me come over at ungodly hours.” You grinned, kicking your legs up on the rest of the couch and craning your head to the side to look at him. Steve nodded and placed his cup on the table.

“I’m always here to talk, you know that (Y/N).”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now.” You groaned, grabbing a pillow from beside you and tossed it at him. He caught it without a glance and turned on the TV. “Showoff…” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face the now illuminated screen, as a rerun of Law and Order started playing.

You and Steve lounged around for a good hour and a half, now being around seven. He got up to make breakfast for everyone while you clicked through the guide.

“You guys have shitty TV, this is all football.” You moaned, dramatically flopping against the back of the couch. “Don’t you guys ever watch anything interesting? Like The Simpsons, or Criminal Minds? At least one of you has to be a sucker for crime documentaries.”

“That would be me.” Sam announced his arrival as he walked out from the hallway and to the front door as a rapid knocking was heard. He pulled open the door and Tony came rushing in, hair disheveled and eyes wide.

“I thought you died!” He yelled, waving his arms around wildly in your direction.

“We told you she wasn’t dead.” Nat said with a groan as she walked in behind him, dragging a half asleep Wanda behind her. “Hey hun, he woke us up yelling that you were gone.”

“He made up,” Wanda yawned, “So many theories…” She groaned and flopped down on the couch, laying her head on your thighs. You chuckled and patted her forehead, continuing to scroll past the plethora of sports channels.

“Like what?” You asked, turning your head slightly to glance at Tony. He was having a hushed chat with Steve and turned his attention back to you, now holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh ya know, you an Buckaroo getting back together, you got drunk and left the apartment without even knowing, or Thor had asked you to go over for a quickie.”

“Gross!” You hissed, chucking the remote at him. It went sailing past him and landed on the floor with a thud. “We do not have quickies.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a huff of air.

“Hey does anyone know how Buck takes his coffee?” Steve asked, eyes scanning over the different creamers.

“Black with two sugars. Unless it’s from Starkbucks, then creamer. Says it’s too bitter” You said, the words flying out of your mouth before you could even stop them. The kitchen went silent and you faked innocence as Nat raised a brow at you for an explanation. “What?!” You yelped and raised your hand in defense. “We dated for three years, and it's not like it’s that hard to remember.”

“Uh-huh just keep telling yourself that you love sick fool.”

“Tony shut up I am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No.”

“Yessss.” He said in a sing-song voice as Steve walked over with a plate of pancakes. Wanda sat up from your lap, only to move beside you. Nat sat on the floor next to Sam who kept picking food off her plate, you could have sworn Nat threatened to stab him at least twice. Steve sat in his usual recliner, and Tony sprawled out next to you on the couch.

“Jesus what did I miss?” Bucky’s raspy morning voice filled your ears, and you shuddered, a chill running down your spine. You shook it off by reaching for the syrup.

“Pancakes and yelling.” Wanda beamed up at him before grabbing the syrup from your hand. “Share.” She muttered, sending you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at her before beginning to dig in to your second pancake.

“(Y/N) never shares her food.” Bucky chuckled and began fixing two plates of food. Shooting him a cold glare, you finally looked at him. His long locks were an absolute mess, per-usual in the mornings, he had black basketball shorts, hanging low on his waist and he was shirtless. You gulped, your eyes not daring to scan his god like body.

But you failed, like usual. And oh you wished you hadn’t looked. He still looked as if he was sculpted by the gods, that much was obvious but there we small red and purple marks littering his collarbones. Hickies.

You gulped down the last bite of your food and with a shaky hand, placed the plate on the coffee table.

Sensing your mood change Nat sat up, but still chewed on her blueberry pancakes. Wanda already had a hand pressed up against your lower back, but you brushed her off as you stood up.

“Actually James, I do, just not with you.” You muttered, before walking over to your stuff. You pulled Thor’s sweatshirt from the back of your chair and slipped it over your head, then stuffed your phone into your pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have class and I’d rather not be here when your little… plaything wakes up.” With that, you opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it shut. Then you took off down the hall to your own apartment and threw yourself in.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted, tripping over furniture, tears already spilling from your eyes.

You did have class, that much was true. Then you had a study group with some lower-classmen you were helping in biology. So you weren’t really lying, even if it was at noon, not eight in the morning. But you had to get out of there, you could barely hold yourself together seeing him alone after a one night stand, but seeing him with the girl? No way in hell you would have kept it together. Not like this.

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, rubbing under your eyes. Red cheeks replaced the pale ones you had moments before, and the bags under your eyes were way more noticeable. Turning on the faucet, you splash your face with cold water and run your fingers through your hair.

“Get it together…” You muttered, not even wanting to look at yourself in such a disheveled state.

-

“No that’s not right.” Peter’s voice became a distant memory, your head falling limp in your palm as you fought against the sleep that was pulling your eyelids closed.

After the mini reality check from earlier, you managed to take a quick shower, and throw your hair up into a ponytail. You looked presentable at best, but it was better than not showing up at all. You managed to toss on one of Thor’s old sweatshirts you stole, along with a pair of leggings, and some slippers. Because the weather was surprisingly cold for early fall.

“Sorry, what?” You blinked as MJ tapped your shoulder.

“Peter wants to know why blood sugar levels are so important.” She mumbled, not even sparing you a glance, her nose dug into a book.

“Because, Our blood sugar refers to how much glucose is present in the blood. Glucose is important for cells to be able to make energy and build other complex carbohydrates. However, too much glucose can be toxic for the body. So we need to know if it becomes too much, or too little. You should know this.”

“And you Miss (Y/N), shouldn’t be falling asleep.” Peter teased, sticking his tongue out at you as you shot him a glare.

“Listen kid, I didn’t sleep last night and I haven’t had enough coffee. Stark is dropping me off some.”

“Just get the coffee from the front desk.”

“Parker I am going to pretend you didn’t just say that. Library coffee is horrible. I need fresh brewed from home, or Dunkin.”

“Oh or that nice little place on Manhattan blvd.” Ned added and you nodded, shooting him a warm smile.

“Yes, the absolute best.”

“I heard my name.” Tony said with a grin as he placed the steaming cup in front of you.

“If you mean the absolute worst? Then yes, yes you did.”

“Harsh, I have been wounded. Maybe I’ll just drink this coffee myself.” The brunette mutters, pulling the cup just out of your reach and taking a small sip. You shriek violently and fling your textbook at him. Tony simply steps out of the way before shooting you a sly grin.

You let out an annoyed groan, standing up from the chair and picking up your textbook, and that's when Tony really sees what you're wearing.

He knows this small step back into what you used to be, like dipping your toe into the pool to test the water before diving in.

Under Thor’s blue sweatshirt, is one of Bucky's red henleys. He had plenty, they were his favorite shirt. And he’d be damned if they ever got stolen… by anyone other than you of course.

Tony's breath catches in his throat as you yank the sweater back over the fabric to refrain from prying eyes of passerbys, your friends, and most importantly Bucky.

“Y/N-”

“Please don’t…” You choke out, holding back a soft cry. He nods, understanding, but not ready to completely let it all go. He places a gentle hand on your wrist and waits for you to look up at him. Your eyes are slowly turning puffy and red, even more so than they already were. Your free hand is picking at imaginary lint and he lets out a sigh.

“Okay… not here.” He confirms and shakes his head at your pleading face, that's begging him to drop the subject completely.

Tony doesn’t give in to the puppy dog eyes that make everyone else but him and Natasha melt. He places a short peck to your forehead, hands you your coffee and walks off after saying a quick hello to Peter.

You clear your throat, take a small sip of the now lukewarm liquid and sit back down in the creaky hard chair.

“Sorry, where were we?” You ask, looking around the room instead of the freshman in front of you.

“Lets get some lunch.” MJ announces, abruptly standing up and shoving her books into her bag, clearly over the study session.

Of course she was done with the study session, anymore talk about isotopes and she might have exploded. But she also noticed how uncomfortable you got when Tony had started whispering to you. She had some inkling as to why. When you were a senior in highschool, she was a freshman. It was uncommon for the two classes to mingle but you and her got along great. Her, Peter, and Ned were tossed into an AP Calculus class, and you of course had gotten stuck with them. But it wasn't all bad, yourself and MJ had often made snarky comments towards the boys, and would mumble obscenities under your breath as the teacher would get things mixed up. MJ was observant, and quite the character, so when you and Bucky had split up, she knew it immediately.

Everyone was truly shocked when you both split. Bucky had left for Europe the day after, and you showed up to school, alone, with puffy eyes. She recalls when you were taking your final the next day you had ran out in the middle of it, tears pooling down your cheeks.

And she resented him a little for it, but then again she didn ́t know what happened, and she didn't know why, and she didn't know Bucky.

But it wasn't like it was rocket science to figure out that he was what had you so shaken up. MJ heard a rumor about him coming back, but refrained from saying anything because… a rumor is just that, a stupid rumor. And she didn't want to upset you if she didn't have to.

“I want the extra crispy grilled cheese.”

“You get that every time Ned.” MJ grumbled as she scanned over the blackboard that held all the options on the menu.

“Okay but it’s really good.” You chimed in grinning at MJ, you pulled out your wallet as everyone ordered and reached out to pay. Peter shrieked and smacked at your hand, shaking his head.

“No no no my treat, you always help us with studying and we don’t even pay you. Let me get this.”

“Such a gentleman…” You cooed, giving him a cheeky grin. “But its work study so I get paid anyways.” Peter simply shrugged you off and handed the cash to the cashier, who grunted in response. You recognized the kid from your Economics class, and attempted to wave but he simply turned away to grab your food.

~

“I still don’t see why you didn’t want to go out tonight.” Wanda muttered as she handed you a bag of goldfish to snack on.

“Because I have homework, and I have an econ test to study for. Plus it’s movie night.”

“Econ can suck my dick.”

“Who’s sucking whose dick?” Sam muttered as he flopped down on the love seat, hanging his feet off the side.

“Econ is sucking Wanda's dick because I didn’t want to go out.”

“Well it is movie night Wands, we can't just skip it.” Nat hissed, curling up on the longer couch, settling herself comfortably beside Wanda.

“Not like everyone shows up all the time.” Wanda muttered before leaning forward and cradling the warm cup in her hands. “Where the hell are Steve and the other asshole. Or were going to start without them.”

“Relax ladies we’re here.” Bucky announced, giving Sam and cheeky grin. He nudged his legs off the side to sit, but Sam shook his head and kicked his legs back up.

“What movie’s first?” Steve asked pulling out the large box of DVD’s from behind the TV stand.

It was a large clear plastic bin with half scratched off stickers. The memories of Becca sticking them all over Bucky’s things was fresh in your mind as you stared off into the distance. She’d constantly have any sort of glittery, scented, or stickers with her favorite foods on them. When Bucky had shown up to take you to prom, there was a pink glittery heart on his shoulder.

“I vote we watch Terminator.”

“Sam we always watch that movie.”

“Yeah well get used to it (Y/N) it’s a good movie.”

“Well I for one think we should watch The Princess Bride.” Wanda announced as she dug her hand into a bag of M&M’s.

“Nope, we’re watching The Lost Boys.” You said, standing up and grabbing the box out of Steve's hand. He rolled his eyes and stood up, moving to sit in your spot.

“That shitty eighties movie about the vampires? No thanks.” Sam groaned and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl. You scoffed, placing the disk in the player and turning to face him, your hands resting on your hips.

“Shut your trap, it’s a good movie.” You hissed, sticking your tongue out at him. He gave you a playful wink and turned his attention to the screen. Surveying the area around you, you noticed Steve was now occupying your seat. Pursing your lips, a small groan left your lips. The only empty seat was next to Bucky.

Unwillingly you trudged over and plopped down beside him, your heart obviously had a different plan from your brain.

Curling your legs up into your chest, and resting your head on your knees you relaxed as best as you could beside him and focused on the movie.

The movie played quietly in the background of your thoughts as you wondered why he came back. You thought he loved it over there, from what Steve had told you, he was having a wonderful time. But then again, Steve was never good with translating sarcasm. No matter if it was in person or over text. He sucked at it, plain and simple.

Bucky also wondered why he came back sometimes. He missed his friends, his sister, and his home… you.

Bucky had always lived a hectic life. He grew up beside Steve, ever since birth they had been close. Their mothers were friends so it was only natural the pair would become close.

Steve eventually went from a scrawny kid with asthma who had a knack for fighting bullies to, Steve the football player, no longer stricken with the burden of not being able to breathe. A chick magnet, who was so kind to girls it was almost unbelievable he hadn’t dated anyone.

And then Steve met Y/N. You became fast friends and Bucky could have sworn you knew one another since you were born just like him and Steve. He had met you in sophomore year. Three years, and Steve had finally introduced him to you. But it wasn’t just simple you. Bucky was introduced to the person who changed his life. A beautiful girl who he swore made his heart beat louder than it ever had. But of course, Bucky thought you and Steve were in love. You were the only one who he allowed to refer to him as ‘Stevie.’ He hated that nickname, but not when you said it. So Bucky backed off, until your large group of friends all got smashed at a party and Steve embarrassingly kissed some dude on the track team. You practically burst with joy for him for finally doing it and all Bucky could do was sit there, beer in a cup now warming due to the burning in his hand, where you gripped it in pure joy for your shared best friend.

It was then that Bucky had made it his plan to get you to fall for him in the same way he fell for you. It was easier said than done, but he eventually won your heart.

You became his favorite person. The one he would constantly visit, and stop whatever he was doing to see you. You became his home.

He thought your voice was smooth like honey, and as sweet as the sugar his mom would put on his cheerios when he was younger. Your voice would seep into the cracks of his soul, to remind him he’d always have you.

He even had you now, as your head rested against his shoulder, the rest of your body slumped against the back of the couch. Soft snores rang through his ears, focusing only on you. He’d be damned if he or anyone else woke you up. The movie ended about an hour ago, and everyone had gone to bed. But not without some snide or silly comments on how you were cuddled up against him.

However, he paid no mind to them. All he thought about was how he missed your arms around him, your body heat radiating off of you, keeping him impossibly warm. The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla filled his nostrils as he relaxed all parts of his body but his right arm where you were curled up against. An odd position, yeah but for you? He’d fall out of a plane if it meant keeping you safe. (I’m sorry forgive me for that reference lol)

He felt you stir beside him, and Bucky froze, his breath halted in his lungs as he very slowly glanced down towards you. Your face scrunched up as you wiped at your cheek, after pulling up from his shoulder. Your eyes blinked open, and Bucky quietly watched your eyelashes kiss at your cheeks every time they fluttered shut. He froze again, praying you wouldn’t freak out, and that you’d calmly get up and go to bed, or curl up next to him again.

You chose neither and sat up fully, hunching forward and grabbing the remote from the coffee table.

“‘Nother movie?” You asked, leaning back against the couch and looking over at him. He nodded and focused his gaze on the screen as you chose a crappy netflix original. “ ‘M sorry for falling asleep on you by the way…” You mumbled, running your fingers through your hair. Bucky let out a faint chuckle and shook his head.

“I’m happy to be your headrest doll, long as you don’t drool.”

“Shut up Buck, that was one time…” You groaned, lightly punching his shoulder. He just shook his head and kept his eyes trained on your face, and he swore he saw a hint of a smile curling at your lips.

Smiling at him? Maybe, he could only hope.

Discarding the thought, much to fast for his own taste, he busied himself by grabbing some popcorn and tossing it into his mouth.

Maybe one day he’d work up the courage to actually talk to you, not some silly banter that was somewhere on the cusp of anger and misread feelings from old times… maybe.

—

TAGLIST: @thatsbucknasty @itz-kira @cassandras-musings @petlaufeyson @itzmegaaaaaaan @ambrosesnerd @thatoneslytherinbeater @sebastianstan-posts @retrxbarnes @nervosaa @vvinch3st3r @lost-in-t-h-e-abyss @spn-obession @greeneyedgirls4 @learisa @avipshamitra @uaterer @aletteredaffair @formulafun @smexy-bucky-waifu @jitterbuck @marvelsbitxh @justanothergirlwithdemons @blueeyedboobear @ladymidnightt @greatballsofeffingfire @kaithezaftig @cookies186 @mywinterwolf @buckysthing @postredetucora @coraz0ndcristal @mc225g @section-79 @eves-library

[thewnchstrs]

Broken Halos Prologue

Pairing: JensenXDanneel, JaredXGen

Disclaimers: none!

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: okay so I’m trying something new for my next series! For the prologue, I just decided to do a series of social media posts through the reader’s point of view. Let me know what you think!!

Also: the reader is about 16 in this series and has been working on the show for about twelve years playing Liz Winchester, Sam and Dean’s sister :)

S E R I E S  M A S T E R L I S T

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

February 3, 2019

“Now click ‘share’,” Jared said, pointing to the upper right corner of my phone screen as I watched the picture of the Impala I’d taken load onto the Instagram feed. “Your first Instagram post!”

“Better late than never I guess,” I said, smiling down at the screen when Jensen’s comment travel quickly to the top. Jared and I squinted it at before looking up quickly to Jensen who was in his director chair, motioning for us to get into the car to start the next scene.

“He’s no fun,” Jared joked, the two of us sliding into the Impala as he explained the ins and outs of an Instagram story.

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

March 1, 2019

“Happy birthday to you!” the cast and crew finished after Jensen finally broke and let us sing for him on his birthday, the group erupting into cheers and claps.

“Alright, alright,” Jensen said as he waved us off, the tips of his ears slightly pink. “Thanks you guys.”

After singing our off-key tune everyone began to disperse in order to get the filming day started. I snuck up next to Jensen as we began to walk toward the trailers, giving him a sideways hug.

“Happy birthday,” I said as he squeezed my shoulder. “Any big birthday plans?”

“Work,” he laughed.

“Aw, c’mon! You don’t have anything planned?”

“Y/N, my four birthday parties last year were enough to last me the rest of my life.”

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

March 24, 2019

“Rocco, lets go!” My dad said as we continued to run down our usual path at the back of the house. I turned to look back over my shoulder where Rocco was rolling over onto his back, his paws in the air and looking up at my dad.

I laughed, jogging back as I rubbed Rocco’s belly after taking a picture of him, “He knows he’s cute, that’s why he does this.”

After his picture had been taken, Rocco quickly rolled back up onto his four legs, watching us as if he were finally ready to go. Dad laughed, patting Rocco on his head, “He is pretty cute.”

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

April 13, 2019

I couldn’t count the amount of times I’d been to Chicago, but it felt like every time I landed in that big city it seemed like it couldn’t get any better. I gazed out the plane window down at the city lights that shown brightly against the dark sky.

“It’s pretty, huh?” Mom said as she leaned over the armrest between us to look out the window. I nodded, not wanting to look away for even a second.

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

April 19, 2019

I fell on top of the hotel bed, huffing as I splayed my arms and legs across it, my ankles feeling like they were on fire. I tore the heels off, throwing them onto the floor.

“We’re never doing that again,” I laughed to my friend Sydney who flopped against the bed next to me. 

She nodded in agreement, “But it was so fun.”

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

April 25, 2019

I set the popcorn down on the coffee table, sitting in between my parents as we switched the channel, getting ready to watch the season finale. 

“What do you think’s gonna happen?” My mom asked my dad. 

Dad shrugged, grabbing a handful of popcorn, “I don’t know, I just hope they’re all in one piece by the end of it.”

I glanced to the two of them, “You know I could just tell you-”

“No!” They nearly shouted in unison. I laughed shaking my head as they shushed me. “It’s starting!”

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

May 3, 2019

I breathed deeply, the crisp air around us unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Sydney and Daniel trailed close behind as we hiked the trails.

“Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” I asked as we looked around.

“It’s amazing,” Sydney agreed as we peered up at the mountains surrounding us. 

Daniel gripped his backpack strap tighter in his hands, “Yeah...alright, that’s enough heights for me for the day. What do you say we head back down?”

“Just five more minutes,” I said as I stared off, Sydney and I dropping our backpacks to the ground.

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

May 22, 2019

I crossed off another day on my calendar, flipping it to the next page to see the large circle around June 22. I smiled, the thought of another convention making my heart swell. The last few weeks were hard, like some days are and it was reassuring to know I had something good to look forward to in the future.

I ran my hand over the Always Keep Fighting sticker I’d stuck to my bedroom mirror, reminding myself that even in these hard days, no matter how bad they seemed, there would always be something just on the horizon worth sticking around for.

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

June 22, 2019

“Why are you wearing that in June?” Jensen asked as he looked at my outfit during the gold panel. “We’re in Texas!” 

The comment made the crowd erupt into laughter. I looked down to my all-black outfit before looking up to him, “Hurts being this good looking.”

The three of us laughed, Jared snapping his fingers in a Z-formation, “You tell him, girl.”

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

June 29, 2019

“There she is!” Mom said as I parked the car, opening the back door and letting Rocco and Oscar out of the backseat, watching them run toward the picnic benches outside of the brewery.

I sat down next to mom and dad, watching the dogs run off to play with each other. I reached for mom’s glass of beer as she pulled it away, giving me a warning look. I turned to dad, who let me take a quick sip of his, earning him an even more stern glare.

“Hey, Y/N!” Danneel said as she came from inside, wiping her wet hands on her overalls. “Oscar was okay for you?”

I nodded, “Always. You guys busy?”

“Ahh,” she looked back toward the brewery and back to us. “Yeah, we’re pretty short staffed.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mom asked as she stood. “We’ll help out.”

Dad nodded in agreement, “Point us where you need us.”

“No, you guys enjoy your drinks-”

“Danneel,” mom said as she laid a hand on her arm. “We’re here to help, whatever we can do.”

Danneel smiled, holding mom’s hand as she explained what she needed. “You okay watching the dogs out here for a while?”

I picked up the tennis ball, throwing it across the park, “You kidding me? This is the best part of helping out here!”

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

July 9, 2019

“How do they do it?” I asked as I watched Tom and Shep easily ride the horses around the small fenced-in area. I subconsciously rubbed the back of my thighs that were sore from only riding for nearly ten minutes.

Gen laughed, adjusting Odette on her hip, “They’ve been on a horse or two.”

“Great job, you two!” I shouted to them, seeing their small smiles flash over to Gen and I. I turned to Odette, tickling her belly making her laugh. “Not much longer and you’ll be out there, too!”

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

July 19, 2019

I knocked twice on Jared’s trailer before pulling it open, shielding the present behind my back. Jared looked up from the counter he was sitting at in front of his laptop, smiling at me. “What’s behind your back, Y/N?”

I scooted inside, keeping it hidden. Jared watched me closely as I held it out, handing him the poorly wrapped gift. I eyed the Christmas gift wrapping that used to say ‘Happy Birthday Jesus!’ before I took a sharpie to it and crossed out Jesus for Jared. 

Jared laughed, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to,” I said, sitting down at the bar stool on the other side of the counter. He slowly unwrapped the gift, holding it away from him slightly. I rolled my eyes. “Nothing’s going to bite you. Promise.”

Jared pulled out the framed picture of him, Jensen and I from nearly eleven years ago. I watched how his eyes dragged across all of the short messages from the cast and crew I had them all sign. 

Jared looked up to me, tears in his eyes, “Y/N, I- thank you, I love it.”

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

July 21, 2019

“This is a really unique feeling, we’ve been up here a few times and have been really lucky,” Jared said as we sat at our Comic Con panel for the last time. I marveled at the audience, taking my final look at them before we had to leave. “And I know last night J, Y/N and I were up talking for about two or three hours just about the show and how lucky we are. And I think, for me, I am so grateful that the friendships I’ve made, those will never go away, and what we’ve done here, that will never go away either.”

The crowd erupted into applause as Misha leaned toward his microphone, “You know, backstage we all promised we weren’t gonna cry and we all knew we were lying to each other.” Misha said, making all of us laugh. “Just...just, we love you guys, love you guys,” Misha said, looking down the panel. “Thank you.”

At this point, I couldn’t hide the tears that freely fell down my face. I ran the palms of my hands over my cheeks as I watched Jensen begin to speak, “Thanks for showing up, you guys because without you, we wouldn’t be here. It’s an amazing thing to see, this many faces who appreciate what we do...” Jensen trailed off, obviously choking up. “Just, thank you.”

I sighed, knowing it was my turn to speak. I smiled, “You guys have been such an amazing group of people who’ve quickly become our friends and...and we’re so lucky to have done this for so many years. Thanks for riding this crazy ride with us all the way.” I said, wiping away more tears, Jared patting my back. “We love you, we’ll miss you.”

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

July 31, 2019

“Crap, crap, crap,” I said quickly, trying to delete the picture that was already being drowned in comments about my character’s fate. I quickly deleted the post, my heart pounding. I banged the palm of my hand against my forehead, shaking my head at myself.

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

August 10, 2019

“Please stay up, please stay up...” I begged as I slowly backed away from the tents I’d spent nearly an hour on. I held my hands up, making sure not to make any sudden movements, holding my breath, waiting for them to collapse. When they stayed in place, I smiled triumphantly, turning around to where the kids were not five minutes ago. “You guys?” 

I listened quietly, following the sound of quiet giggling all the way to the bathroom. I pushed the door open, my heart melting at the sight of them playing together on the rug.

“There you guys are,” I said. “I finally got those tents up-”

“We like it in here, Y/N,” JJ said. I raised my eyebrows, looking to the twins who nodded in agreement. I laughed, nodding once.

“Alright, bathroom it is.”

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

August 20, 2019

The crew around us burst into fits of laughter once Jared had jumped around the corner and smashed the pie into Misha’s face, Jared’s arms thrown up in the air in triumph. Misha shook his head, the pie falling to the floor.

“I thought you’d be nice to me today!” Misha shouted at him through laughter as he wiped the pie from his face, flinging it at Jared.

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

September 29, 2019

“So, my question is for Y/N,” a fan asked from the side of the stage. “What went through your head after you posted that picture on Instagram basically spoiling that Liz was alive.”

Jensen and Jared along with the audience burst into laughter. I banged my head against my microphone dramatically, but laughing with them nonetheless, “I thought I was fired!”

“Liz would’ve really been killed then,” Jensen said, laughing. “Seriously, what was the mental process you went through when you realized what you did?”

I sat back in my chair, reminiscing on my own stupidity, “Well first, I was confused why everyone was so excited I was filming, and then I went into a kind of shock where I couldn’t move for a minute, and then it was like my body was moving so fast I couldn’t remember how to work Instagram.”

Jared and Jensen laughed harder, shaking their heads before turning to the audience, “You never know! Maybe she died and she’s back as something else!” Jared said, quickly trying to take the fire off me.

I shrugged, “You never know...thanks for making me relive that.”

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

November 3, 2019

I waved as the fans moved down the line, signing autographs while also trying to make small talk with each of them. I hated that it had to move so quickly, wishing I could sit down with them and talk to them individually.

The next girl in line stepped forward, smiling brightly as she handing something to me, a large book covered in a collage of pictures of Jared, Jensen, Misha and I, “This is for you, I made it.”

I smiled as I flipped through it, catching glimpses of past photo ops with fans, old pictures from set that had to have been taken nearly ten years ago. I found myself trying to fight back tears at the gift. “This is amazing, thank you.”

“I wanted you to have something for when after the show ended so you’ll always have a piece of us,” she said sweetly. I took her hands in mine before hugging her over the table, wondering how I’d gotten so lucky.

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67​ | @majicbamana​ | @luciferslucille​ | @anti-social-club​ | @search-bar​ | @mellorine-paprika​ | @thepocketshoelace​ | @jaremish​ | @the-salty-asian​ | @the-hufflepuff-hunter​ | @robynannemackenzie-blog​ | @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ | @lilreethi​ | @find-sammys-shoe​ |  @caswinchester2000​ | @damnedimpala​​ | @thelittlestwinchestersister​ | @lauren-novak​​ | @adeanmon​​ | @tmiships4life​​ | @spnficgirl​​ | @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ | @defenderrosetyler​

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Skin (1.06)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: The siblings head back to Stanford, disaster strikes, and they end up in a nasty sewer like rats

Warnings: cursing, killing, general nastiness, etc

Word Count: 5752

“Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” Dean propped an arm around the back of the seat.

Sam didn’t answer, and I looked from Dean to him. He was on his PalmPilot.

“Hey, De. Sammy wears girly underwear.” I snickered.

“I’m listening, just busy.” Sam elbowed me.

“Busy doing what?” Dean asked as he got out of the car and went around to the gas tank.

“Reading emails.” Sam didn’t look up.

I popped my head out the window, and I looked at Dean with a tilted head.

“Emails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam replied.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

Sam shrugged. “I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with Olive and our big brother. Tell them I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh. So you lie to them.” Dean shrugged half heartedly. He had pulled something in his shoulder during the Mary hunt, and it was still hurting him.

“No. I just don’t… tell them everything.

Dean scowled. “Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man. I get it, tellin’ the truth it far worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

Dean shrugged in response.

“You’re serious?”

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean said.

“You’re kind of anti-social, you know that?” Sam scowled.

I laughed, and he looked at me. “You are too, Ollie.”

I pouted and Dean mumbled a whatever.

“God…”

“What?” I perked back up.

“It’s this email from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Becca?” I asked. I had met plenty of Sam and Jess’s friends when I stayed with them.

“Is she hot?” Dean asked, and Sam ignored him, looking back to the email.

“I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

I winced. I knew Zack too, and he was nice.

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with? You bring those people around Olive?” Dean scowled again as he got back in the car.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.” Sam shook his head.

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes. “They’re in St. Louis. We’re going.”

Dean laughed. “Look, sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam made his puppy eyes, and Dean looked to me for help.

“Ollie, tell him. We’ve been driving for two days.”

I sighed. I hated to be against Dean, but Sam was right. Something sounded off. Zack wouldn’t have murdered his own girlfriend. He was a kind person. I looked at Dean and pouted, giving him my own puppy eyes. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out of the gas station.

                                                         ***

“Oh my God, Sam!” Becca shouted once the door was open.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” Sam grinned.

Becca laughed. “You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

They hugged, and Dean pulled me into his side.

“I got your email.” Sam sighed.

“I didn’t think you would come here.” She shook her head. “Oh my god, hi Olive! You’re so big!”

“Hi.” I waved.

“Dean. Older brother.” Dean stuck his hand out.

She looked him up and down and then smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean nodded.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” I spoke up.

“Come in.” She stepped back into the house, opening the door further.

We walked in, and Dean was last, shutting the door behind us.

“Nice place.”

Becca laughed. “It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial. Do you guys want a beer or anything? Maybe a soda for the underaged kid?”

I laughed. “No, thanks.”

“So, tell us what happened?” Sam asked as we stopped in the kitchen, sitting around the table.

“Well, uh, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. She was beaten up, and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” She stumbled on her words, beginning to cry. “So, he called 911, and the police… they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police… they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.” Sam shrugged.

“We could.” Dean agreed.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” Becca asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam grinned.

Dean laughed, and I smiled. “Detective, actually.” I added.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.” Dean smiled.

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just… I dunno.”

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.” Sam insisted.

Becca looked around, then nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

Dean waited until she disappeared down the hall, then turned to Sam was a glare. “Oh, yeah, man. You’re a real straight shooter with your friends.”

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help.” Sam defended himself.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.” Dean shrugged.

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.” Sam made the puppy eyes.

Dean sighed, knowing he was defeated.

                                                        ***

“You sure this is okay?” Becca asked Dean.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I am an officer of the law.” Dean walked into the house first.

Sam and I followed. The walls were smeared with blood, and it smelled awful. There was furniture broken, also bloody.

“Bec, you wanna wait outside?” Sam asked.

“No. I wanna help.” She ducked under the police tape and left the porch, coming into the house.

“Tell us what else the police said.” I asked.

“Well, there’s no sign of a break in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers, they’re already talking about plea bargain.” She looked around the room and began to cry.

“Look, Bec. If Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?”

Becca shook her head, but then lit up, remembering something. “Uh, there was a robbery, about a week before. Somebody broke in and stole some of Zack’s clothes. They didn’t think it was anything related. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.”

Dean turned his attention to a barking dog, and Becca came up behind him.

“You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“He just changed.”

“Do you remember when?” I asked again.

“I guess around the time of the murder.” She shrugged.

Dean and I looked at each other, and he started toward Sam.

“So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed.

“So, the tape. The security footage, you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.” Dean turned to Becca.

She grinned. I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop.” Dean laughed as she kept going. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

                                                        ***

“Here he comes.” Becca pointed.

“22:04. That’s just after ten.” I noticed, looking to Dean.

He was sitting next to me, on the floor. Sam and Becca were on the couch, and the laptop in front of us was playing the video tape Becca had taken.

“You said the time of death was about 10:30.” Dean looked over his shoulder at Becca.

She nodded. “Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.”

I looked to Sam, who seemed to notice something on the tape.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?”

“Oh, sure.” She got up.

“Hey.” Sam called, and she turned around. “Maybe some sandwiches too?” He smiled hopefully.

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“I wish.” Dean mumbled.

I moved to sit next to Sam. “What is it, Sams?” 

“Check this out.” He rewound it, and slowed it down.

Zack looked straight at the camera, and his eyes glinted silver. Sam paused it, and I gasped.

“Hey, maybe it’s just a camera flare.”

I shook my head. “That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen.”

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul.” Sam looked to Dean.

“Right.” He rolled his eyes.

“Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing.”

Sam nodded. “Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

I perked up. “Like a Doppelganger.”

“Yeah! It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.” Sam’s eyes went wider and he smiled.

                                                        ***

“Alright, so what are we doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning?” Dean yawned.

“I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out.” Sam stumbled out of the car.

“So, he came out the back door?” Dean got out and leaned against Baby’s hood.

“Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.” Sam explained.

“Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning.” Dean emphasized, but Sam ignored him.

“Blood.” He noted, staring at a telephone pole. “Somebody came this way.”

“Yeah, but the trail ends. I don’t see anything over here.” Dean announced as we checked out the alleyway.

An ambulance zoomed past, sirens wailing. Dean and I looked at each other, then at Sam.

                                                        ***

We stood in front of the house, watching as an Asian man was handcuffed and crammed into a police car. I hugged Dean’s arm.

“What do you think happened?” I asked him.

“He tried to kill his wife.” A woman turned around. “Tied her up and beat her.”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded. “I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.”

The car drove off, the man inside looking like he was going to be sick. The boys and I looked at each other.

                                                        ***

I looked inside the other garbage can and found nothing. I dropped the lid back on and snorted, trying to get the rotting smell out of my nose.

“Hey.” Dean called.

We turned around. “Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded.

“Definitely our kind of problem.” Dean sighed.

“What’d you find out?” I asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked.”

“So he was in two places at once.”

Dean nodded and continued.

“So he sees himself in the house, police think he’s a nutjob.”

“Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way.” Sam remarked.

“Could be the same thing doing it, too.” Dean suggested.

“Shapeshifter. Something that can make itself look like anyone.”

Dean nodded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves.” Sam sighed.

“We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.” Dean sighed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he looked around.

“Let me ask you this- in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” Sam asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Olive and I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way.” Sam pointed.

“Just like your friend’s house.” Dean noted.

I nodded. “Yeah. And, just like at Zack’s house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared.”

Dean thought for a minute. “Well, there’s another way to go. Down.”

We looked down at our feet and saw a manhole cover, slightly ajar. I sighed.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, bug, we have to.”

“If the smell doesn’t come out you two are buying me a new flannel.” I grumbled.

                                                        ***

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.” Sam was first in line, shining the flashlight ahead of us.

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” He pointed to something and bent down.

It was a pile of blood and skin. I groaned, feeling like I was going to throw up. I gagged, and Dean stood up, pushing me aside.

“You’re fine. Don’t look.”

He bent back down, and I shook my head in disgust as he pulled out his pocket knife and held up a strip of skin. It had hair stuck to it. 

“Is this from his victims?” Sam was confused.

“Ya know, this is really fucking gross, but-”

“What if the shapeshifter sheds?”

I nodded as Dean completed my thoughts.

“That is fucking gross.” Sam wrinkled his nose.

                                                        ***

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.” Dean leaned against the car.

“Silver bullet to the heart.” I nodded.

Dean smiled proudly, ruffling my hair.

“That’s right, sweetpea.”

Sam’s phone began to ring, and he picked it up without looking. “This is Sam.”

A pause. “We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out.” Another pause. “What are you talking about?” Another. “Why would you do that?” His face paled. “We’re trying to help.” He sighed. “Bec, I’m sorry, but-”

Sam sighed, looking down as he pocketed his phone.

“I hate to say it, Sam, but that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You lie to your friend because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just… it’d be easier if-”

“If I was like you.” Sam’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Hey, man. Like it or not, we are not like other people. But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig?” Dean raised an eyebrow and held up a gun. “It ain’t without perks.”

Sam only sighed and tucked the gun into the back of his waistband. I took the other from Dean’s hold, and he loaded the last one before tucking it into his jacket.

                                                        ***

“I think we’re close to its lair.” Dean’s face scrunched up.

Sam didn’t look back. “Why do you say that?”

I grimaced, shining my flashlight as I spoke. “Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face.”

“Oh, God!” Sam exclaimed as he turned, eye level with the pile of bloody, hairy skin on the pipe next to him.

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while.” Dean shone his flashlight into the corner, where there was a pile of clothes.

“Who knows how many murders the fucker’s gotten away with?” I scoffed.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, tugging me into his side.

I turned to see the shapeshifter, still in the form of Alex, the guy from earlier. Dean got sucker punched in the face, and Sam shot after the shifter as it ran. I bent down, pulling Dean to his feet.

“Sam, go get the son of a bitch!” Dean hissed.

We followed after it, up the ladder and out the manhole, into the street. The boys and I looked around. I groaned. The sudden sprints and tugging myself up the ladder had brought back the old pain in my ankle from the Wendigo hunt.

“Alright, let’s split up. Olive, up.” Sam nodded, pulling me onto his back.

“Meet you around the other side.” Dean pressed a quick kiss to my cheek before walking off in the other direction.

Sam had his gun hidden inside his jacket, and I had mine tucked between my front and Sam’s back. We found nobody on the street that could’ve been the shifter, and nothing to indicate where he had gone. We waited on the street corner where we had split apart from Dean. I sighed from my perch on Sam’s back.

“Hey? Anything?” Dean’s voice came from behind.

“No.” I shook my head and sighed. “He’s gone.”

“Alright, let’s get back to the car.” Dean nodded.

Sam and I crossed the street, but a car cut Dean off. He caught up after, and we reached Baby. Sam put me down on the hood, and I winced.

“You alright?” Dean asked.

I only nodded. “You think he found another way underground?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, probably. You got the keys?”

I froze. Dean never gave me the keys. Why would he ask if I had them? I looked up at him, and under the light of the lamppost, saw that his eyes weren’t like they normally were. The pattern in them was wrong, looking almost like the diamonds of a snake as opposed to the waves of green that were his. I smiled.

“Sam’s got them.”

“Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” I caught Sam’s eye and gave him a face of panic.

“Oh, that was Austin.” The shifter cut on. “It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

Sam caught my glance and nodded, gesturing to his gun. “Oh right. Here ya go.” He tossed the shifter the keys.

He opened the trunk and looked at the weaponry. He laughed, eyes growing wide.

“Don’t move!” Sam shouted, and we both pointed out guns at him.

“What did you do with him?” I growled.

“Guys, chill. It’s me, alright?” The shifter looked at me.

“No, I don’t think so.” Sam hissed.

“You’re not him. Where the fuck is our brother?”

“You’re about to shoot him. Sam, Olive, calm down.”

“You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt.” Sam accused.

The shifter scoffed. “Yeah, it’s better. What do you want me to do, cry?”

“You’re not our brother.” Sam shook his head.

“Why don’t you pull the trigger, then? Hm? ‘Cause you’re not sure. Guys, you know me.” The shifter put a hand up, a crowbar glinting by his side.

“Don’t.” Sam growled.

I hissed from my perch on the hood. I could kill him, because I knew it wasn’t Dean. No way on fucking earth was this Dean. But if I killed him, how would we find where he stashed the real Dean?

The shifter hit Sam with the crowbar, then hit him again. I screamed for him, and the shifter moved toward me, hitting my arm. I screamed, and his hand clapped over my mouth. He looked like Dean, but he smelled like death. I dug my teeth into his skin, and a chunk easily slid off. I gagged as it slipped into my mouth.

“You fucking bitch!”

I bit down harder, shaken to the core by Dean’s loving voice cursing at me with malice. I felt metal against my head and I was out like a light.

                                                        ***

“Where is he?” I heard Sam.

I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I opened my eyes wearily to see my head in Sam’s lap. He was tied to a wood beam, neck and wrists bound. The shifter pranced over and backhanded him. Sam groaned, and I looked back up to him.

“Where’s Dean?” I coughed out.

“I wouldn’t worry about him, princess. I’d worry about you.” The shifter snarled.

“Where is he?” Sam asked again.

“You don’t really wanna know.” The shifter chuckled. “I swear, the more I learn about you and your family… I thought I came from a bad background.

Sam couldn’t move his head, but I knew he was trying to look down at me.

“What do you mean, learn?” We asked in unison.

The shifter stopped pacing, he grabbed his head and hissed, pained. The shifter straightened, then squatted in front of us.

“He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. With a child.” He pointed to me. “You don’t think I had dreams of my own? You think I wanted to be a father? You think I wanted to raise a kid? No. But Olive needed me. Dad needed me. Where the hell were you? And you.” He pointed to me. “You stupid little bitch. Just can’t live a day without big brother, now, can you? Always gotta be by his side, up his ass. Such a pain. Can’t have a minute alone without you stuck by my side, clawing and begging and whining like a pathetic, fucking, little, lost puppy.” He snarled, and by the passion of his pain, I was almost convinced it was Dean.

“Where’s my brother?” I raised my voice.

The shifter leaned into my face, the wrong eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

“Oh sweetpea, I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous of Sammy here. He’s got friends. He could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.” He backed away.

Sam squirmed. “What are you talking about?”

“You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. Left me with a goddamn kid.” It was another snarl. “But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks.” A little laugh. “I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens.” He smiled, and threw a sheet over us. 

We waited until his footsteps disappeared, and then I let out a frustrated groan.

“God fucking damnit. Dean!” I shouted, biting at the sheet and ripping it off of us.

“That better be you, Ollie, and not that freak of nature.” I heard Dean’s growl, and my chest swelled with joy.

“Yeah, De, it’s us!” Sam called out with a laugh.

“Dean, he went to Becca’s, looking like you.” I called.

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one.” Sam’s face drew back and I laughed, sitting up. 

My wrists were tied to Sam’s ankles, but luckily were behind my back. Sam was working at the ropes around his hands, and I couldn’t see Dean, but I knew he was too.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.” Sam sighed.

I wormed my wrists free of the rope.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked as I turned to untie Sam.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.” I grunted.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” Dean asked, his voice echoing across pipes.

“Yeah, something like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.” Sam hissed as I got his neck free.

“Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Dean tapped his forehead, and untangled the ropes from Sam’s ankles.

“Hands.” Sam pleaded.

Dean took over and untied his hands while I looked his face over, sighing at the cut on his cheekbone and the bruise forming above his eyebrow.

“Come on, we gotta go. He’s probably at Becca’s already.” Sam grunted, shuffling to his feet.

                                                        ***

“Come on, we gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam pulled me out through the window and onto the street.

“Whoa!” Dean was left stranded, hanging half out the window.

“Hey, no!” I grabbed Sam’s wrist. “You’ll put an APB out on Dean.”

Sam shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Alright, come on.” Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me across the street.

We made it across the street, unsuspected. There was a TV in the store window ahead of us, a news report blaring red.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

A bad sketch of Dean followed, nose all wrong and eyes not wide enough.

“Man! That’s not even a good picture.” Dean groaned.

Sam hit his arm as we looked around, making sure we weren’t attracting attention.

“It’s good enough, Dean.” I scowled, grabbing him by the wrist and following Sam as he walked off into an alley.

“Man.” Dean grumbled again.

Dean stepped into a puddle and groaned. I looked down to see him barefoot, and I laughed. He glared at me.

“Aw, come on, De. They said attempted murder. At least we know-”

“That I didn’t kill her.” Dean sighed.

“We’ll check with Becca in the morning, see if she’s all right.” Sam nodded.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

Sam stopped walking, exasperated. “We have no weapons. No silver bullets.

”Sams, the guy’s walkin’ around with Dean’s face, and he cursed me out.” I hit his arm.

“It’s a little personal, I wanna find him.”

Sam gave in. “Okay. Where do we look?

“Well, we could start with the sewers.”

“Dean. Again, we have no weapons. He stole our guns, we need more.”

“The car.”

Dean’s nostrils flared in disgust. “I’m betting he drove over to Becca’s.”

Sam nodded. “The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

Dean pouted. “The thought of him driving my car.”

“Alright, come on.” Sam pulled us along.

“It’s killing me.” He whined.

“Let’s just go, De.” I held a hand out, and he took it.

We walked in silence, until Sam perked up. “How’d you know it wasn’t Dean?” He asked over his shoulder. “I mean, I saw your face, and then the arm proved us right, but… how’d you know?” He stopped walking.

I shrugged. “Well, one, he asked if I had the keys. De never gives me the keys. And two, his eyes were all wrong.”

“His eyes?” Dean echoed.

I nodded, now sandwiched between Sam and Dean. “They just weren’t right. Didn’t look like your eyes.”

Sam hummed, impressed. Dean grinned, ruffling my hair. “That’s my girl.”

                                                        ***

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight!” Dean sighed, relieved at the sight of the car.

A police car rolled up, parking right next to Baby.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Fuck.” I tightened my grip on his hand.

Sam turned around. “Oh shit.”

There was another car a few yards back. Dean grabbed me and pushed me ahead of him. “This way, this way. Let’s go.” He pointed ahead, to a fence.

“You two go. I’ll hold ‘em off.” Sam boosted me onto the fence.

“What?” I squirmed, balancing on the wood.

“Sam, they’ll catch you.” Dean’s eyes went wide.

”Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Becca’s.” Sam reassured.

I hopped over the fence, and Dean began after me.

“Dean! Olive! Stay out of those sewers.” Sam called.

Dean looked at me and rolled his eyes, landing on his feet next to me.

“I mean it!” Sam thumped the wood and Dean rolled his eyes again, grabbing me by the hand.

“Yeah, yeah!” He tugged me along.

I heard a police officer yell at Sam, and I bit my lip with a wince. Dean pulled me to follow as we ran.

                                                        ***

“We’re sorry, Sam. But you know us. We just can’t wait.” Dean mumbled as we pulled the spare guns from the trunk.

I took the last two and tucked them into my pants, shutting the trunk. I slid the silver knife into my boot, clenching my jaw.

“Ready, baby?”

I nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be, De.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s go kick some ass.”

                                                        ***

I flashed the light, trying to keep my hand steady. We had been in the sewers for at least an hour, and the smell of decay had sunk so far into my nose that I became used to it.

I shone the flashlight to the other opening, and I almost barfed. Dean looked over my shoulder and groaned. There was a room off to the side, lit with multiple candles, chains everywhere. Piles of the same hairy, bloody, and now slimy-looking, skin lined the floor. There was a clatter of chains, and my gun flew up. Dean stepped in front of me and grabbed one hand.

“Stay behind me.” He ordered, taking a finger and hooking it onto his belt loop.

I followed him through the dripping tunnels, ducking when he did to avoid pipes, even though he stood a head taller than me. We followed the noise through to another room. Someone coughed, and our heads snapped to a figure under a dirty, tattered sheet. She coughed again, and my eyes widened. I recognized that cough.

“Becca!” I tore the sheet off her.

Dean pulled me away. “It might not be her. Knife.” He held a hand out.

Becca’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream.

“Becca, no! Please. It’s us, I swear it’s really us. We just need to make sure that it’s really you.” I comforted, holding her by the shoulders.

Dean sighed, and pressed the flat end of the blade against her bare shoulder. There was no reaction, and we sighed in relief.

“Okay. Okay, you’re okay. Knife.” I held my hand out, and he gave it back to me.

I cut Becca out of her ropes. “What happened?”

She began to cry as we held her steady. “I was walking home, and everything just went white.” She whimpered. “Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?” She shuddered.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Dean tried to soothe her. “Come on. Can you walk?” He asked.

She nodded. “Okay, okay. We’ve gotta hurry. Sams went to see you.” I pulled her up.

She groaned, and Dean grunted, pulling her into his side. We took off through the tunnels, rushing to save Sam.

                                                        ***

“Hey!” I shouted.

The shifter, again as Dean, pushed himself off Sam. He got up, and came my way. I shot twice, nailing him in the heart both times. I watched as the color behind his eyes drained, and he fell to the ground. I dropped the gun and began to shake.

“Sam!” Becca ran to Sam, and Dean grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me around.

“Hey. Hey, hey baby girl. Hi, it’s okay. I’m right here. I am right here. I’m okay. It’s okay.” He pulled me into a hug.

I whimpered. He let me go, and I moved to Sam. He sat up and hugged me as Dean went to the shifter. Dean snatched something off the shifter’s neck and nodded back to us.

                                                        ***

Dean and I were by the car. I was sitting on the hood, slumped against his arm. He was looking at a map of the US.

“I’m sorry you had to do that, babes.” He whispered.

“I’m just glad you and Sams are okay.” I shrugged.

“You’re an amazing hunter. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed the side of my head.

Becca waved to us, and we waved back. She headed back inside the house, and Sam came back to the car.

“So what about Zack?” I asked.

“Cops are blaming this freak Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with.” Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Becca says Zack’s gonna be released soon.”

“Come on, babes. Time to go.” Dean kissed my head again, and I smiled before crawling into the car.

                                                        ***

“Sorry, man.” Dean’s voice was a whisper.

“About what?” Sam’s hands were running through my hair.

I was crumpled between the boys, head against Sam’s chest. They thought I was sleeping, and I preferred it that way.

“I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be… Joe College.” Dean sighed.

Sam’s hand stopped, and then he sighed. “No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”

I could hear the smile in Dean’s voice. “Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. And so is Olive.” Dean poked my nose.

Sam laughed, and he dropped his head against mine.

“Yeah, I know you two are.” He sighed.

“You know, I gotta say… I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” Dean squeezed my leg.

“Miss what?” I opened my eyes.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smiled down at me, then up to Sam.

Sam kissed my head again and Dean looked back to the road as we kept driving.

Previous Ep: Bloody Mary (1.05)

Next Up: Dean the Birthday Boy

Next Ep: Hook Man

[sakura-blossom28]

Heartbroken

Jumped around with the here.  Felt good to write! Let me know what you think! Next chapter will be tough but I want to write it! Will add links later 

They started slow.  Spending time alone, just the two of them became normal.  She would go to his apartment after work, they would have dinner together, maybe watch a movie and then go home.  Other days when her mother wasn’t in a panic about how their home looked, Gaara would stay for dinner to get to know her family better.  They knew how they felt and that’s all that mattered to them.  

XxX

Gaara heard a knock on his door.  He looked at the time and knew Sakura was standing on the other side.  This time of day was always his favorite.  She had just gotten out of work and it was a cooldown day from the gym.  He opened the door to find a slightly exhausted Sakura.  Even though she had just worked a full day, Gaara still found her extremely beautiful.  His heart always sped up when she smiled at him, even though she was tired.  She could have chosen to go right home after work, but she decided to spend her time with him and he was grateful for that.  

Sakura quietly walked in with her change in clothes in hand.  She hated being in scrubs longer than she needed to be.  Before she could even change Gaara wrapped her in a tight hug as he shut the door behind her.  He wouldn’t let go of her until they were sitting on his couch. He arranged them so that Sakura was sitting on his lap and he had his face buried in her hair.  

“Gaara, what’s gotten into you?  I just saw you yesterday!” Sakura laughed as she settled into him and started to play with his hair.  

“I know and I already missed you,” he mumbled into her hair.  That made Sakura pause.  No guy had ever said that to her before.  She had always been the one to gush over the other person.  Sakura didn’t even have to prompt him to say anything sweet to her.  She held onto him a little tighter than usual and got off the couch to get changed. 

XxX

“Hey I was talking to your sister and the girls today and they wanted to go out this weekend.  We were thinking about going to a few bars and maybe even a club.  Are you in?” Sakura asked Gaara.  They had just finished their class and he was walking her to her car.  Gaara got quiet while he thought.  

“Going out like that isn’t really my thing…” Gaara finally said.  

“Oh alright.  I kinda figured that anyway.  Maybe we can see a movie instead-” Sakura started. 

“Hey hey wait a minute Sakura,” Gaara said stopping Sakura before she could get into her car.  “Just because it’s not my favorite thing to do doesn’t mean we don’t have to go.  I know you want to go, so we’ll go.  I’d do that for you.  And maybe next time I want to go to a concert of that band I like you’ll join me because I asked.  We do things for each other Sakura, that’s how I want our relationship to be.  Plus I just want to be around you.  I don’t care what we do.” 

“You would do that for me?” Sakura asked in disbelief.  Sasuke had only gone out with her once and it was just to one bar.  Ino was in town and she really wanted them to meet.  He did go out with her, but the whole time he seemed miserable.  Sakura had felt so guilty after that that she never asked to go out again.  

“Of course I would.  Sakura, I would do anything for you if it made you happy,” Gaara said as he tried to turn Sakura around so he could look at her.  When he did, he didn’t expect to see tears building up in her eyes.  It broke his heart to see pain in her eyes.  “Sakura?  Did I say something wrong?  I’m-”

“No no Gaara.  It’s just- I appreciate you so much.  Thank you.  I really do want you to come out with me,” Sakra said, wiping her eyes.  It was silly of her, always crying like that when something wasn’t going her way.  It was something she really needed to work on.  Sakura typically associates the word ‘no’ with “no I don’t like you”.  Gaara was very patient.  He really could have said that he didn’t want to go and that should have been good enough for Sakura.  They didn’t have to do everything together and she shouldn’t get upset about it.  

“I know you said you’ll go, but in the future, if I ask you to do or go somewhere with me and you truly don’t want to go I want you to be honest with me.  I understand we can compromise, but there’s a limit Gaara.  I don’t want to assume you’ll say yes every time.”

“Alright, that’s fair.  I hope you’ll do the same.  Please don’t cry like that, I don’t think I can handle your tears,” Gaara said, pulling her into a hug.  

XxX

It was a typical Friday night.  Sakura had taken an earlier class since she got out of work early and wanted to have a quiet night at home.  She had a rough week at work dealing with difficult patients so Gaara understood.  They had agreed they would pick a different day to see each other.  Gaara had planned to use his time to think of something nice that they could do with each other.  With it raining it was the perfect night to stay in so he didn’t mind that he didn’t have any plans.

There was a knock at his door.  He wasn’t expecting anyone and Kankuro was already out for the night.  He cautiously went to the door to see a soaked Sakura standing outside.  She didn’t have a coat on or anything. She even looked like she was in her pajamas.  

“Sakura?!  What happened?!  Are you okay?”  Gaara asked as he grabbed her inside.  She was shaking as he brought her in and she wouldn’t say a word.  She must have parked in the gym lot and walked all the way over to his building.  He immediately brought her into the bathroom and left to get some towels.  Once he had her mostly dried, he went to his room for a change of clothes.  He found some of his clothes from when he was younger that would fit Sakura better.  

He waited outside the bathroom for her to change.  Once she opened the door he made her sit down on the toilet so that he could blow dry her hair.  They sat in silence.  Gaara knew she needed time to think.  He saw how red her eyes were and knew she had been crying.  Now if he only knew the reason…  Gaara turned off the hairdryer when Sakura’s hair was light pink and fluffy again.  He gently lifted her chin so that their eyes met.  

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked in a neutral voice, even though he was worried on the inside.  She started to shake her head no.  He let out a deep sigh.  He didn’t want to get angry with her, he was just worried so he had to control himself.  “Please Sakura, I need some information.  I just want to make sure you’re okay.”  

Tears started to form again in her eyes.  “I’m so sorry- to come over like this- I-I didn’t know where else to go.  I-I got in a fight with my m-mom” she said through her tears.  Ugh, just her mom.  He could help with that.  

“I can g-go if you need me to.  I’m-I’m sorry Gaara-”

“Shh no.  I’m glad you came here.  You can always come to me with your problems.  C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch.”  Gaara helped her up and wrapped her up in a blanket and went to make them some tea.  When he was back Sakura seemed to have calmed down a bit.  

“Okay, now what happened?” Gaara asked, handing Sakura her tea.  “You and your mom normally get along.  What did you get in a fight over?”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy if I tell you… It was ridiculous really.  I was just starting to relax after my day and she gets on my case about med school.  I know I eventually have to go, but I have to take the MCAT before I apply.  I want to take it in the late summer and then apply in the spring, but she thinks I’m pushing it off again.  She’s been on my case so much about it and I’m so frustrated about it!  I just get so overwhelmed and she doesn’t seem to care.  It’s stupid but after the week I’ve had I just blew up in her face.  I didn’t mean to, but she just wouldn’t leave me alone.  So I ran out because I couldn’t stand being around her another second,” Sakura finally looked up at him.  “I’m sorry for barging in.  I should have called…” 

“I can understand the way you’re feeling.  My father is the same way.  That’s the reason why we all moved out at the same time.  He kept pressuring me to go back to school so that I could run his business.  He thinks running the gym isn’t enough, but when I’m ready I’ll go back.  I think your mom is just worried that you’ll get comfortable working for Tsunade and not want to try.  She may have gone about it the wrong way, but she’s coming from a good place,” Gaara said.  

“Yeah, you’re right.  Do you mind if I stay here for a while to cool down?” Sakura asked looking completely exhausted.  

“I don’t mind.  You can stay the night if you want.  The rain is pretty bad out there.  I’m surprised you made it over here in one piece.  I would feel better if you stayed.” 

“I don’t want to intrude…”  Gaara just gave her a look.  “Okay okay, I’ll stay.” 

“Please let your parents know where you are at least,” Gaara said as he stood up to put their empty cups in the sink.  “So what do you want to do?” 

“Whatever you were doing before I got here,” Sakura said with a smile.  

Gaara walked back towards her and gently scooped her up and walked over to his bedroom.  Sakura had never seen it before.  Normally they would just hang out in the living room and kitchen.  When he turned on the light and dropped her on his bed, she finally got to see what his room looked like.  

The walls were a light grey color.  He had black curtains covering the single window next to his bed.  His desk was in the other corner of the room.  She could see different documents about the gym and his laptop on the desk.  The room was very neat and clean.  Everything had its order, even the knick-knacks that covered his TV display.  His room literally could have been in a magazine, except for his personal touches and posters.  

“Not a dark dungeon, like you thought it would be?” Gaara asked with a smirk.  He was sitting at his desk after he put her on the bed.  “I just have to finish up a few things.  Do you want me to turn on the TV?”

“Yeah if you don’t mind,” Saura said as she got under the covers.  Gaara got up to change it to a show that Sakura liked, and kept the volume low so that if she wanted to sleep she could.  When he gave her the remote he tucked her in to make sure she was comfortable and kissed her on her forehead.  

Gaara finished his work in record time.  He closed his laptop and slipped into his bed.  This was the first time that he and Sakura would be sharing a bed.  He had no intention of trying anything, he was just happy to have her so close and to wake up next to her.  Sakura rolled over when he got into bed.  

“Hey,” she said as he pulled her closer.  “You know I like you right?” 

“This sounds familiar, but yes I do,” Gaara chuckled as he settled in next to her.  

“I think I want you to be my boyfriend… If you’ll have me,” Sakura said as she buried her face into his chest.  They both tensesd at her words, but Gaara just did it because he felt excited.  He knew they had mutual feelings for each other, but he was waiting for the right moment to ask Sakura if they could put a label on what was going on between them for the last few months.  

“Yes, I’ll have you.  Of course, I’ll have you,” Gaara said, pulling her in as close as he could.  His night had started off in a strange way, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. 

[fanfictionaries]

Where the Green Grass Grows - Part 2. All My Exes Live in Texas

Summary: After leaving town in 2001, Marianne Grace Barnes swore she’d never step foot in Texas again. She was happy with her life in San Francisco. She had great friends, a great job, and a loving boyfriend. But when her mother insists she come home after six long years away, Marianne comes face to face with someone she vowed to never lay eyes on again. Now the questions arise: Is he so different from the man who broke her heart? Is she so different from the girl she used to be?

And most importantly, is she as happy as she really thinks she is?

A story of love, heartache, and that special feeling of being home.

MASTERLIST

Prompt: Sweet Home Alabama (2002) 

Pairing: AU Cowboy!Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: NA this chapter I think? ANGST! 

Author’s note: It’s easier if you imagine everyone with a southern accent except for Marianne (Pronounced Mary Anne) who has a slight southern accent but’s lost it’s strength over the years. Also, how sexy is it to imagine Sam, Bucky, and Steve with southern accents?!?!?

My goal is to upload two parts a week for this series! Please bear with me, schools starts back up next week! xoxo

***

“Married?!”

“Mama—”

“You’re getting married?! And I had to find out through the paper like some stranger?”

“Mama, please. I said I was sorry—” Marianne tried to apologize once again but was drowned out by the hysterical cries of her mother through the phone.

“Marianne Grace Barnes, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you will wait till I am good and finished talking before you interrupt me,” scolded Winifred Barnes.

“Yes ma’am,” grumbled Marianne, cursing every member of the staff at the San Francisco Chronicle.

***

It seems as though San Francisco’s most eligible bachelor, Tony Stark (32) is officially off the market amidst the announcement of his engagement to a Marianne Barnes (24). Mr. Stark, heir to the Stark fortune and founder of Stark industry met Ms. Barnes, middle school art teacher, a short ten months ago at an art show for the now celebrated artist Aldrich Killian. Sources say the pair hit it off almost immediately, and this can be confirmed by the fact that Barnes was rumored to be living with Stark in his sprawling San Francisco townhouse a mere two months after meeting. Since then, the two have been inseparable. Barnes and Stark have been spotted together at multiple Stark Industry events and frequenting many of San Francisco’s hottest spots. No matter the location, however, it is clear that the pair are deeply enamored with each other.

No details have been released on the exact date and location of the wedding, but our sources say they plan to marry soon in anticipation of the expected merger between Stark Industries and Pym Technology. Needless to say, we at the San Francisco Chronicle expect the event to be as lavish and opulent as the man, Tony Stark, himself.

***

Truthfully, she had no idea that they would do a piece on her and Tony’s engagement, although in hindsight it didn’t really surprise her. He was one of the most wealthy and successful men in California, why wouldn’t they? However, what really surprised her was that her parents were subscribed to the newspaper. Why they felt the need to keep up with the going-ons of San Francisco life from all the way in Texas, she had no clue.

“You know there’s this nifty little invention called a telephone missy and I know you have one of those fancy cellular phones with you all the time. And don’t for a second say that you called but we didn’t answer, because we even have an answering machine now. James went and got us one for Christmas so that we could stop ‘accidentally’ missing all those ‘calls’ you’ve been making—” Her mother’s tone was accusing and rightfully so. It was true. Marianne had a nasty habit of not calling home and lying about it later, but she had found over the years that things were easier when she spent less time thinking about home. Unfortunately, she did not know about the answering machine and now she had nothing to say for herself. “And to think we spent 18 years feeding you and raising you and giving you everything we could just for you to go and get engaged to a man we’ve never even heard of, let alone met!”

“Tony and I were talking about flying you, daddy, and Bucky down a week or so before the wedding, so you could spend some time with me and Tony. You know, get to know him and all,” said Marianne sheepishly, suddenly feeling so dumb she could throw herself on the ground and miss.

“A week?! Honey, I know you don’t think we’re gonna’ wait a week before the wedding to meet this man. You realize he never even asked your daddy for his blessing? He’s none too pleased about it neither. The man’s got a bur in his saddle so large you could see it from Houston.

“Mama, I’m not property. Tony doesn’t need daddy’s—”

“Nuh uh, you zip it right now missy. At the end of the day, it’s the principle Marianne Grace. Now, we wanna’ meet this man. Soon,” said Winifred so sternly Marianne could just envision her pacing the kitchen in a rage.

“Okay, I’m sure we would be more than happy to fly you all over whenever you like,” stated Marianne, standing and looking over to where Tony was fully engrossed in his work at his expansive glass dining room table. She tried to catch his eye, but he had yet to unglue his eyes from the screen of his laptop and the stacks of paper around him. Marianne was halfway to him when her mother’s words stopped her in her tracks.

“Your daddy can’t get a day off from the ranch any time soon since Sam Wilson fell off the barn roof and broke his arm; and Bucky’s busy with his practice and helping to fill in for Sam.”

Marianne swallowed thickly, “So what do you want to do?”

“You two will come here,” her mother stated flatly.

“Mama, I don’t think that’s a good—”

“No arguing with me Marianne,” interrupted Winifred before continuing in a softer tone. “You haven’t been back home in almost six years. It’ll do you some good to come home and spend some quality time with your family. We miss you honey.”

“I miss you too mama, but there’s absolutely no way Tony and I can make it down to Texas before the wedding.”

***

The air was hot and muggy in the small plane as they sat docked on the tarmac at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. They’d been sitting there waiting for an open terminal for nearly an hour, but it felt like four. Marianne was ready to open the emergency exit herself and face homeland security if it meant getting a breath of air that wasn’t shared with a hundred other people. Therefore, she was in no way ready to hear the news that Natasha had for her when she turned her cellphone back on.

“What do you mean Montecito fell through?!” exclaimed, smiling sheepishly to be the people around her in apology before turning towards the window and lowering her voice. “Please telling me you’re joking Nat. I really can’t handle any bad news right now.”

“I wish I were Mari, but unfortunately it wouldn’t matter if Tony had more money than God. There’s no way you two are finding a decent venue in California until at least next summer,” said Nat, only adding to Marianne’s stress level. She ran a hand through her brown curls, already feeling them begin to grow and frizz in the dry Texas climate. Yet, another reason to hate it there.

“Are you sure? Did you try Fairmont?” Marianne asked in desperation.

“Sweetie, I’ve tried Fairmont, The Langham Huntington, Montecito, Sherwood, Oak Mountain…you name it; I’ve called and been told no. Are you sure you guys can’t put off the wedding till next year?”

“No, Tony is dead set on having the wedding in June and seeing as it’s April, well…” Marianne trailed off, unsure of how even to end that sentence. Two months. Tony had given her two months to plan this wedding and she was scrambling. She felt the plane lurch forward as it began a slow crawl across the asphalt. The overhead intercom crackled before announcing they would be departing the plane in ten minutes. The plane erupted into a smattering of applause that seemed to rouse a sleeping child as a high-pitched cry sounded soon after.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were knocked up,” laughed Natasha, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“At this point, a pregnancy would be the least of my worries,” sighed Marianne, leaning back in her seat and plugging her free ear with her finger. As the plane continued to move towards its gate, the space filled with the sound of passengers gathering their things and chatting excited.

“Where are you? It sounds like a carnival on your end.”

Marianne laughed bitterly, “A carnival would be more fun. Unfortunately, I’m currently stuck on the world’s most uncomfortable airplane.”

“An airplane? Where could you possibly be going right now?! We have a wedding to plan in less than two months!” exclaimed Natasha in exasperation.

“It’s less where I’m going and more where I am, actually.”

“Okay, well then please, enlighten me. Where are you?”

“I’m in Texas,” confessed Marianne, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing as the plane door finally opened and the deboarding process began.

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes.”

Two hours later and Marianne was convinced that her luck couldn’t get any worse. As if Texas itself was punishing her for six long years away, the airline lost her luggage indefinitely and her taxi driver got lost, twice, before they finally pulled up to her parents’ home in Georgetown, Texas. The farmhouse was small; built in the 1800s as a place of residence for the ranch foreman, it still held its original purpose. White with baby blue shutters and a large wrap around porch, Marianne had many memories of sitting on the porch swing and watching the time inch by. Stepping out of the air-conditioned sanctuary of the cab, the full force of southern heat hit her square in the face. Before she could even turn to close the car door behind her, her mother’s excited cries floated through the air. The screen door squeaked and groaned as the greying woman heaved it open and ran towards her daughter with open arms.

“My baby is finally home! Hallelujah!” cried Winifred, engulfing her daughter in a tight hug. Winifred Barnes, standing a few good inches shorter than her daughter, hugged her with surprising force. Years of helping out on the farm left her figure lean and muscular, while years of good ol’ southern cooking left her with a pair of hips that still made most of the men in town turn their head when she passed by. Of course, none of that was new to Winifred. In her day, the woman had been the bell of the ball in Texas society. A former debutant and pageant queen, she had the pick of any wealthy Texan she came across, but when it all came down to it, she had chosen George Barnes – a lowly ranch hand with no prospects outside of roping, riding, and herding cattle.

“Hi mama, it’s good to see you,” said Marianne, feeling her heart clench slightly as she hugged her mother tightly. She was surprised to see some grey in the blonde, pin straight hair Marianne had always envied growing up. The lines at the corner of her mother’s eyes and mouth made her wonder for a moment if she truly had been gone for too long.

“Do you need help with your things?” Winifred asked, looking between Marianne and the taxi driver who was currently making no move to get out and help her daughter with her luggage.

“Oh! Hold on—” Marianne leaned back into the taxi and dug into her purse before pulling out cash for the driver “—Sorry. Thank you so much.”

With that she exited the cab, purse, and small carry-on in hand, slamming the car door behind her. The cab took off with a cloud of dust that sent Marianne and her mother into a small fit of coughs.

“They lost my luggage. I’m supposed to be hearing from them some time in the next few days, but they told me not to get my hopes up. Apparently, my bags never even made it on the plane,” Marianne told her mother.

“Oh dear. I hope they find them; it’d be a shame for you to lose all those fancy clothes—" her mother took a moment to take in Marianne’s outfit, an outfit Tony had bought her for her birthday actually. She thought the black pencil skirt, white Calvin Klein button up and thick chunky belt cinched at her waist was a cute ensemble, but judging from the way her mother appraised her, perhaps she was wrong “—we’ve still got all of your old clothes. I’m sure they’ll fit you. If anything, they’ll be too big! You are so skinny; do they not eat in California?”

“Yes, they eat plenty mama. Don’t worry. Now, where’s daddy?”

“Well he should be coming in soon. He found a section of fence down up past the crick, so he took the boys up with him to fix it,” said Winifred, looking out into the distant pasture.

“I thought Sam broke his arm.”

“He did, but the damn fool still insists on helping where he can. Couldn’t get him off that horse if I tried and the good Lord knows I have. Still, your daddy won’t let him do much. Till then Steven and your brother are putting in extra work to fill in the gaps.”

Just the utterance of his name was enough to throw Marianne for a loop, “I didn’t know Steve worked here now.”

“Oh, he doesn’t dear. He’s just helping out. He’s still over at—oh there they are!” exclaimed Winifred, pointing out in the far distance where the silhouette of four men on horse back could be seen against the setting sun.

They should have been indiscriminate from each other from that far of a distance, but Marianne knew without a doubt which one of the men was Steven Rogers. Larger and thicker than the rest of the men, he held a certain grace in the saddle that most professional riders lacked, but Marianne would know anywhere. As they got closer, approaching at a well-paced canter, she couldn’t help but keep her gaze trained on the man in question. The one person she was least excited to see upon coming home. It was no secret how she felt about him. Everyone knew her disdain for the man ran deep, however he was unavoidable given he was her brother’s best friend. Spitefully, she imagined that after all this time he would have gotten fat or perhaps lost all his hair – anything to cut back the enormous ego he possessed. Yet, as they approached it was to her dismay that the exact opposite was true. Not only was he not fat and bald, but he was probably more muscular than he’d been the last time she saw him and his thick, dirty blonde hair was thicker and longer than ever, hanging down to the nape of his neck under the brim of his tan Stetson. To top it all off, the bastard had a beard so thick and rugged, it put Kenny Rogers to shame…bastard.

She had no time to focus on the way the sweat glistened off the exposed skin of Steve’s neck or the way his thick thighs gripped the leather below him, because the moment they were close enough her older brother of two years was launching himself out of the saddle and onto her. His large, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hoisted her into the air, spinning her in the air and nearly causing her ankle boots to fly clear off her feet. When he finally placed her back on the ground, his grin was as wide as the Mississippi and as bright as the blinding Texan sun.

“There she is!” he beamed before looking all around her. “Where’s that fancy fiancé of yours?”

“He’s not coming till Wednesday, remember?” called their mother over her shoulder as she made her way back to the porch steps.

“He had some business to take care of before he could come down. Figured I’d come down ahead and let you get all of your crazy out before you meet him. That way you don’t scare him off,” teased Marianne, punching her brother’s arm in good spirits. “You look good. How’s the practice?”

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was the most accomplished of the Barnes’ children. After undergrad at the University of Houston, he went on to become a veterinarian and take over the old clinic right in town. Of course, that couldn’t be enough for the young Barnes man. No, he had to be annoyingly handsome as well; possessing the same brown curls as her, his boyish smile, tall height, and muscular stature always seemed to work in his favor. “Oh, it’s great. Busy as all get up,” he answered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dirty wranglers.

“What? Your old man doesn’t get a hug as well?” asked George Barnes, handing his and Bucky’s reigns over to Steve before walking over to her and engulfing her in another hug. A feeling of safety and serenity washed over her as she hugged her father tightly. In truth, she’d always been a daddy’s girl. Never did she miss a moment growing up to help her father on the farm right alongside her brother. George Barnes, while coming across as stern and taciturn at times, was nothing more than a soft, kind-hearted man.

“Hi daddy. I missed you.”

“I missed you too pumpkin. My successful, big city daughter has been away for too long,” her father teased, an edge of sincerity to his tone. She gave him one last tight squeeze before releasing herself and turning her attention away from her father’s comment and instead to Sam Wilson. Sure enough, there he was, cast and all, sitting high and good-naturedly on the back of his Appaloosa. He was everything her mother described, kind brown eyes, a sweet gapped smile, cropped black hair, and deep tawny skin that glistened in the warm setting sun.

“You must be Sam!” Marianne said enthusiastically, crossing the distance and holding her hand out to him. Sam came to work on the ranch a few years after she left and while she’d never met him, she had heard quite a bit about him. Originally from Alabama, Sam Wilson moved out to Texas chasing a girl and fell in love with the open range and rolling river of Georgetown instead.

“And you must be Marianne. Pleasure to finally meet you,” Sam greeted her, taking her hand in his good one and giving it a gentle shake.

“Please, call me Mari. How’s your ar—”

“I’m gonna’ go put the horses up, George,” the gruff timbre of Steve’s voice interrupted her, the sound both grating to her ears and causing her heart to leap in her chest.

“Oh, alright. Do you want any help?” asked George, turning away from his daughter as Steve began to ride away, leading the other two mares along with him.

“Nah, you stay and catch up. I’ll only be a minute.”

“I should probably go and help him,” said Sam, grinning pleasantly at them before righting himself in the saddle and turning his horse back towards the barn.

“Why don’t you get settled in your room, while your brother and I get cleaned up for supper?” her father suggested, breaking Marianne out of her stupor. She only realized then that she’d been watching Sam and Steve intently as they rode away and disappeared into the large, red barn.

Marianne’s room hadn’t changed a bit. Apparently, her mother had never even given a thought to redecorating or repurposing the room and for that, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or concerned. The same baby pink covered the walls and stuffed animals adorned the surface of her flowery bedspread. Posters littered the walls showcasing the stars of her youth including The Dixie Chicks, Shania Twain, and, embarrassingly, Randy Travis on the ceiling above her bed. Trinkets of her childhood remained on shelves and her desktop. 4-H ribbons and trophies sat in all their glory, reflecting the days in which she put more stock in goat wrangling and horseback riding than watercolor technique and Renoir’s crippling arthritis. It was like walking into a living memorial of the late 90s in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible. She placed her purse and carryon on the bed when a thought popped into her head. Rushing to her closet, she pushed through the clothing, shoes, and a few boxes till she found the special hiding place she created all those years ago.

“Aha!” Marianne exclaimed when her fingers wrapped around the binding of her old diary. Suppressing a childlike giggle, she sat down on the thick carpet of her bedroom floor and opened the dusty journal to a random page.

Dear Diary,

Last week Mrs. Darlene said she was bringing in an older student to fill in for her and teach some of the class and you wouldn’t believe who it ended up being. That’s right. Steve. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’s like the most talented artist in the school. Clint reckons he’s going to Julliard or Paris or something when he graduates. Too bad I still have to deal with his annoying face till then. It’s bad enough that I have to see him all the time at home with Buck. Now I have to see him in my classes too? Of course, he just had to get on my nerves too. He couldn’t just leave me well enough alone. He kept leaning over my shoulder and telling me my shading needed work. Sorry we can’t all be artistic geniuses. Some of us are just okay.

After class Clint kept saying how he thinks Steve has a crush on me. I said if that were true then he wouldn’t spend every waking moment with his tongue shoved down Sharon Carter’s throat. Of course, Clint had to go and rile my feathers by saying I was jealous. AS IF! I wouldn’t want Steven Rogers’ tongue within spitting distance of me, let alone in my mouth.

I mean, sure. He does have nice eyes and I can see how some people might think he’s handsome, but he’s no Tom Selleck. I wouldn’t kiss him if someone paid me $1000. Anyways, that’s all for today Diary.

Till next time,

Mari Grace xoxo

“Marianne! Supper’s on!” called Winifred from down the stairs, sending Marianne into a spiral of déjà vu. She shut the journal tightly, throwing it back into her closet before standing and heading downstairs. The expansive kitchen was everything she remembered from the olive-green cupboards to the faded pine table sat on a threadbare rug. She was the last to arrive, finding the table full and the setting across from Steve the only available spot. Begrudgingly she sat, purposefully avoiding any and all eye contact with the man sat in front of her. Instead, she opted to turn her attention to the delicious food in front of her.

Her mother had gone all out cooking her favorite foods: fried chicken, new peas and potatoes in cream sauce, corn on the cob, ham steak, green bean casserole, salad, fresh rolls, corn bread, and if her intuition was correct there was sure to be a peach cobbler sitting  in the oven at that very moment.

“Wow mama, I hope you didn’t cook all of this on my account,” said Marianne, grabbing a chicken leg from the platter in front of her.

“Well it’s not every day my only daughter decides to grace us with her presence. I didn’t know if you still liked the same things, so I made a bit of everything,” said Winifred, helping herself to a bit of salad.

“Yea, we didn’t know if you’d become one of those vegetarians like all those hippies in California,” laughed Bucky, cutting a large piece of ham steak, and shoving it in his mouth.

“They’re not all vegetarians and they’re not all hippies. But even if they were, there’s nothing wrong with being morally and environmentally conscious of what you consume,” remarked Marianne putting a bit of potatoes on her plate and picking up her fork.

“Yea, a consciousness that could put all of us out of work,” said Steve bitterly.

Surprised at his comment, Marianne glared at Steve in annoyance. His face was tilted down towards his plate, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to know that he thought she was all hat and no kettle. She felt a heat begin to bubble just below the surface but bit her tongue. Turning to her father, she asked him how things were going around the ranch.

“They’re as good as any. Flannigan is thinkin’ of sellin’ again, but he’s promised if he does, he’d put it in writin’ that they have to keep me on as foreman. Looks like this ol’ place isn’t rid of me yet,” laughed George.

“Have you thought about buying the ranch yourself daddy?” asked Marianne, who’d never understood why her father never took the next step.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“Sure, you can daddy. You definitely have the know how and I bet you and mama could qualify for some kind of loa—”

“There’s a lot more that goes into buying a ranch than you know, Marianne. It’s not as easy as snapping your fingers and having your rich fiancé get it for you with daddy’s money,” interrupted Steve, now looking up from his plate at her with a superior expression.

“Yes, I’m sure you know all about success what with going to college and—oh wait. You didn’t. You’re just still working at the Double R for old man Jackson like you were almost ten years ago. My mistake. And it’s Mari to you,” bit back Marianne, angrily stabbing into the food on her plate.

“Marianne you don’t—” began Winifred, stopping when Steve held up a hand.

“That’s alright Wini. She said what she said. I’m sure it’s easy to look down on all of us from such a high and mighty position as a middle school art teacher. Isn’t that right, Marianne,” said Steve smugly.

Marianne’s blood boiled, a red-hot rage heating her face, “At least I actually did something with my talent, Stevie.”

“That’s enough you two. If ya’ll can’t act civil at the table, you can just leave. Steven, you’re just as much a part of this family as anyone else, but you’re also a guest and you know better. Marianne, your mother worked very hard on this meal and we’re all excited to finally have you home. Don’t make us change our minds,” George scolded them, the kitchen going quiet as Steve and Marianne hung their heads in shame. It was silent for a while, the sounds of forks and knifes scraping their plates filling the air before someone finally spoke up.

“I was vegetarian for a while,” remarked Sam, putting his corn cob down and wiping his hands on his napkin.

“What?!” asked Bucky in surprise, “When?”

“I think I was…twenty? There was this new girl that started working down at the local diner in Mobile that was vegetarian. Rumor had it she only dated other vegetarians, so I came every day and ordered a veggie burger for lunch hoping she’d notice and we’d strike up a conversation,” Sam told them, reaching forward and grabbing a roll. “Turns out, she wasn’t a vegetarian. She was an Episcopalian.”

The table erupted into a fit of laughter, Marianne herself giggling so hard tears were brought to her eyes. “How long did you go in before you found out?” asked Marianne, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her napkin.

“About a month.”

The group laughed even harder.

“See, that’s the difference between you and me Sammy. I’ve done a lot of stupid things for girls, but I’ve never let them change me,” said Bucky resolutely.

“Nah man, it’s not changin’ yourself. It’s takin’ a chance on love! You’ll never settle down if you aren’t willing to risk it all for the woman you love,” Sam put wisely, earning him a fond pat on the cheek from her mother.

Marianne smiled happily, missing the gentle banter that a meal at home could bring. She felt the prickle of gooseflesh rise on her neck and the looming sense that someone was staring a hole in the side of her head. On instinct she turned to find Steve’s stormy blue eyes trained on her in solemn concentration. Their gazes locked for a moment, a strange mix of emotions flooding from Steve that made her heart clench in her chest. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. Steve was the first to break their connection, turning to George and beginning a quiet side conversation about the new cow horse he’d just bought.

“Don’t listen to this liar Sam. Buck has definitely changed himself for a girl,” said Marianne, shaking off the strange encounter and turning back to the rest of the table.

“What are you talking about girl?” asked Bucky in exaggerated confusion.

“Oh, you don’t remember Suzie Quentin?” Marianne questioned, knowing Bucky remembered exactly who Suzie Quentin was.

“Now wait—” began Bucky, shortly being cut off by Marianne as she turned to Sam to regale the tale.

“In the eighth grade Suzie Quentin said she thought Louis in Interview with a Vampire was hot and so Bucky spent a whole year growing out his hair so he could look like Brad Pitt!” said Marianne with a loud guffaw, moving away as Bucky tried to cover her mouth to keep her from talking. “Except, he didn’t know how to take care of long hair so—”

Bucky was successful the second go around, managing to clamp a hand over Marianne’s mouth so that the only sounds heard from her were a jumble of muffled words.

“Don’t listen to her, Sammy. She’s got a head full of stump water.”

When Marianne had finally managed to wrangle herself out of Bucky’s hold, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at her older brother. Quite the opposite really. A sense of sadness filled her at the realization that for six long years she’d missed out on this. The lightness. The familiarity. The happiness that only her family could provide. And for what? Taking another glance towards the large, sun kissed man across from her she felt a renewed sense of bitterness towards the man.

Once dinner finished and everyone was full on peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream, Marianne excused herself from the table, standing and making her way to the porch. The sun had set. The brightness of the moon, hung fat and heavy and almost full in the sky, lit up the night. More stars than she could ever remember shone brightly from above creating a familiar wonder she often felt growing up. She never felt that in San Francisco, where the stars were constantly shrouded by heavy clouds and the lights of the city.

Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and was surprised to find only a single text from Natasha informing her that their caterer had backed out. Nothing from her fiancé who promised to check in on her the moment he could. Of course, he probably was too busy with work. Sighing, she tried not to think about the wedding for at least one night and instead dialed Tony. The phone rang for a few moments before he picked up. From the other end she could hear the raucous sounds of people, music, and laughter blaring through.

“You’ve reached Tony: multimillionaire, genius, extraordinaire,” answered Tony, his voice vibrant and jovial.

“Tony, hey,” said Marianne feeling slightly confused. She thought he had a late-night conference call with Tokyo that night.

“Mari! Hold on one second—” the boisterous noise began to fade and then a door clicked shut before Tony spoke again “—sorry about that. How was your flight? Did you make it to Texas alright?”

“Yea, I did. Unfortunately, they lost all of my luggage, but it could be worse. My mom still has pretty much all my stuff here from high school still,” Marianne laughed lightly, leaning against the railing of the porch, and gripping it tightly. Her palms were slick with sweat despite the temperature cooling exponentially with the setting sun. Why on earth was she so nervous?

“Do you want me to have some of your things express shipped over to you?” asked Tony kindly.

“No, no need. I can get by. I suppose if I really need something that badly, you can pack it when you come down later this week.”

“Well, don’t go without it you don’t need to. You have the card I gave you. Don’t be afraid to buy whatever you need,” remarked Tony in the offhanded way in which he solved almost all of his problems. Normally this kind of answer wouldn’t make her think twice, but that night something about it irked her.

“Right. Hey, I thought you had nonstop meetings all this week. It sounds like you’re at a party.”

“Oh right, well, you know. Sometimes a meeting is a room full of boring people in suits and sometimes a meeting is cocktails and firebreathers on a rooftop,” joked Tony. Marianne could just envision the charming, devilish smile on his face. It usually did a fine job of getting him out of most trouble, but Marianne found that her inability to see it in person left her feeling put off. Before she could open her mouth to say as much, Marianne heard the sound of a door opening and then muffled voices. “That would be a business associate wanting to talk to me about reactor batteries. So…” Tony dragged out the word, waiting for her to make the decision on whether their phone call was about to end. Marianne paused. In this moment she could get mad, or she could let her fiancé continue to ride the high of a successful business for a while longer.

“Go. Have fun changing the world over flaming tequila shots,” sighed Marianne in good humor. Who was she to rain on his parade?

“God, I love you. Wednesday can’t come soon enough.”

Before Marianne could even get the words ‘I love you too’ out, the line went dead, and she was left standing alone on her parents’ porch in the deathly silence of the country. Or so she thought.

“Big city boyfriend too busy to talk?” asked Steve, sidling up beside her and leaning against the porch. He placed all his weight upon a single veiny forearm laid upon the chipping paint, crossing his long, lean legs, and cocking his hip to the side. It was the familiar ease in which he held himself that while normally made her skin itch, instead filled her with a weighty exhaustion she hadn’t felt in years. It had been a lot for a first day back.

“Fiancé and it’s none of your business,” spat Marianne, her tone barely holding half of the harshness it held earlier when they argued. She folded her arms around her like a protective blanket and looked out on the darkening fields ahead of her.

“Oh, come on Marianne—”

She sent a bone chilling glare in his direction that stopped Steve in his tracks. He let out a long breath.

“You’re right, it’s none of my business. Look, I just came out here to apologize. I didn’t mean to start a fight in there. God knows Wini and George wanted things to go well tonight and I’m sure us bickerin’ didn’t help any. They’d be devastated if you decided to wait another six years to come and see ‘em.”

“Don’t for a second think you have any right to talk to me about my family. Or to try and make me feel guilty for being gone. Not when you’re the reason I stayed away so long,” scoffed Marianne, taking one last glaring look at the man above her and storming back into the house, making Steve the one alone in the deathly silence of the country.

Taglist:

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​

@caffiend-queen​

@grincheveryday

[purplesurveys]

720

WHO was the last person...

you spoke to, in person? It was my mom. She went down around 20 minutes ago to make a couple of sandwiches for herself and dad. The quarantine has made our body clocks completely bonkers and it’ll be typical to see either parent go downstairs at 12 or 1 in the morning to make a meal.

you called? I rang up Gab fiveish minutes ago so we can do a video call on Messenger.

that called you? My mom called me from downstairs the other day to reprimand me about something I said on Facebook cause she said it might offend some of my relatives lol.

you texted? I haven’t texted in a hot fuckin’ minute. I’ve only been at home in the last month, so there’s been little need to spend on load for my phone when I can communicate with classmates and family from online anyway.

that sent you a text? My dad. He texted me that breakfast was ready so that he didn’t need to go into my bedroom, which I’m highkey thankful for. My mom would just burst into the room, pull up my window shade so the sunlight can come in, and yell in a loud voice so I wake up. It’s never improved my mood in all the times she’s done it so I dunno why she continues doing it.

you kissed? Gab, but that was a month ago ugh.

that kissed you? Also her.

you yelled at? My mom. She was yelling at me, so I yelled at her as well because two can play at that game now.

that yelled at you? ^

you watched a movie with? I watched Two for the Road by myself last night but as for companions, the last one I had was Gabie when we watched Titanic a few months ago.

you ate dinner with? My family. We eat dinner together every night, at least whenever my dad is back home in the country.

you were in a photo with? Also family. I haven’t been in a photo with anyone other than them in a while...

you took a photo of? That would be my dog. I don’t take photos of people these days, mostly because I’m unable to.

you went to a concert with? I went to my Paramore gig by myself since I couldn’t find anyone who had front row seats like me, but on the day of the concert itself, Denise, Erycka, and Leigh (who were all also going to the show but got cheaper seats) asked to hitch a ride with me. Gabie was also present but that’s only because she was excited for me and wanted to be around for that experience of mine.

you lied to? Probably a schoolmate that I had told I was busy even though I wasn’t and I just didn’t want to work that time.

you invited somewhere? I think Blanch? I told her we should go to Ayala Museum once we can go out again so she can see the prehistoric gold exhibit that they have.

you dated? Just my current girlfriend.

you dumped? I haven’t dumped anyone.

you rejected? Uh... technically Mike. There weren’t any words said, no closure or whatever, but I think we both knew and understood that he liked me but I let him find out for himself that I had already gotten back with my ex. Back then I was still horrible at the confrontation thing and didn’t know how to break it to him.

you held hands with? Gab, over a month ago.

you hugged? Same answer.

you let cry on your shoulder? Egh, I’m only mentally capable of doing this for Gabie. I can let people rant to me but it’s personally not good for my own mental health if I had people crying to me all the time.

that let you cry on their shoulder? Technically it was my dog. But the last person was either Angela or Gab, I don’t really remember.

you bought a gift for? I don’t remember aaaahhhhh. It was probably a Valentine’s gift though.

you wished a happy birthday? Luisa.

that disappointed you? Some distant relative who had recently added me on Facebook then, only for me to see her pro-government posts. I never unfriended someone so quickly.

that stayed over at your place? Ralph, my sister’s now ex-boyfriend. Never liked the guy and am so glad they broke up, I never did like seeing him around in our house hah. that let you crash at their place? Gabie, but only to have dinner and work. that made you angry? My mom told me personal insults over a chore I did wrong a few days ago and it made me really angry. that complimented you? Andrew and I exchanged compliments when we needed pick-me-ups sometime last week. whom you complimented? ^ you thanked? My dad, when I saw him baking chocolate chip cookies a while ago after I had nagged him all week to make some. that thanked you? Mom. She asked me to fetch her something. you saw, in person? Right now I can see my sister on the couch. I think she’s watching an anime or playing some game on her laptop. that bought you something? Now hasn’t really been the time to ask for non-essential stuff, but my dad did buy me my requested soju a few weeks ago. that made you laugh? My sister I think? My family watched an online mass livestream earlier and my mom wanted to try out an American Catholic church after my grand-aunt (who lives in the States) recommended that specific parish. ANYWAY so of course their accent was very different to what we’re used to, and my sister’s fazed reaction to how they said one of the words made me laugh. that you said you loved? Gab. that said they loved you? My mom. you flipped off? Haven’t done this to anyone in a whiiiiileeeeee. you made a silly face at? It would always be just my dog but person-wise I don’t even remember anymore. that drove you somewhere? Dad drove me and my mom to the local columbarium last month.

WHAT was the last thing you...

touched? Other than the keyboard and trackpad, I used a spoon to eat some of the raw cookie dough my dad had prepared heh.

threw? Second day I’m trying to finish this survey lol. I just took the last piece of painkillers to treat my headache, so I threw the packaging like 30 seconds ago.

ate? Shrimp pasta that my mom made for dinner.

drank? Coffee.

found stuck in your teeth? Idk, bits of food that I don’t really keep track of.

cooked? :( Never cooked a full meal ever but the last thing I *helped* my dad with was breading the meat he was gonna use to make pork chop haha.

baked? Chocolate chip cookies two years ago. I remember it distinctly because I never bake.

bought? Man I haven’t bought anything in forever. I’m thinking about it and it’s probably something I bought for lunch at school? The only thing I buy is food anyway so I’m pretty sure I’m at least on the right track.

sold? I'm not much of an entrepreneur. 

took a photo of? My dog with a cold compress on top of his head. The weather is starting to be unforgiving so I’ve been allotting my own compress for Kimi so that he doesn’t feel overheated.

were frustrated with? My mom telling us we had to watch a mass livestream this morning -_____- I thought she was only gonna make us ‘attend’ the Lenten masses i.e. Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, but it’s past Lent and she’s still making us do it. I’m guessing it’s gonna be routine every Sunday now, ugh.

broke? I don’t tinker much for the very reason that I tend to break everything I touch. That being said, I haven’t broken anything in a while.

spilled? I have a fear of spilling stuff because my mom has always reacted negatively to that. Yay for trauma!

tripped on? A piece of bone that my dog had left on the floor. It felt like stepping on a goddamn Lego.

kicked? My blanket when I started feeling too warm inside my room.

put batteries in? I haven’t used batteries in ages.

turned on? I opened my laptop to continue this survey.

turned off? My Nintendo Switch, when I didn’t feel like playing anymore.

wrote? A survey, if anything. I haven’t had to write anything ever since they suspended online classes.

wrote on? I think it was my sister’s notebook.

cleaned? Myself? I just took a bath if that counts.

WHERE was the last place you...

dined at? I’m pretty sure it was Yabu. Gab and I went out for dinner on the last Monday before the lockdown, didn’t see each other all week, then by Saturday when we saw each other again we just had dinner at her place. So it’s gotta be Yabu.

ordered something to go? A local sushi place and a local pizza place, a week ago. My dad was too lazy to cook that evening so we got takeout instead.

bought something? The local milk tea place that we have in school and Rodic’s. I got myself milk tea, and I got my dad my favorite meal from Rodic’s, tapsilog.

cried? My room, I think.

felt uncomfortable? Just the house cause I haven’t been anywhere in a month.

drove to? My girlfriend’s school and then her house.

had an appointment at? Eye doctor at SM Marikina.

went on vacation? Tagaytay and then we moved to Cavite the day after so that we got to maximize the time that we had to have a staycation.

hung out with a friend? The 30th. Ughhhhh I miss the mall.

bought clothes? Feliz, at an independent clothing stall at one of the top floors.

spent more than you had planned? Feliz then I even had the audacity to move to The 30th to spend more lmaooooo AND THAT WAS A MONDAY. I was so bad at saving money skksks.

saw a band/singer/musician perform? One of the local arenas in Manila so I can watch Paramore.

WHEN was the last time you...

told someone 'I love you'? A little over an hour ago I think.

cried? I don’t remember.

laughed? A few hours ago, maybe? I always laugh when I come across a dumb meme on Facebook.

left your home? March 10th. Really not a good time to be asking that question lol.

drank a soda/pop? Sometime in February when my org had an event and the only drink being served was Coke. I was extremely hungry/thirsty that evening so I had no problem chugging soda down, even though it was so unpleasant.

made your bed? This morning.

visited a doctor? March 9th.

went to the emergency room? I’ve never had to go to the emergency room except for the time I was being delivered.

kissed someone? The last weekend before the lockdown. Man, I had no idea how lame/sad my answers were going to be lmaooo I really should have thought that through before starting a “when was the last time you” survey.

hugged someone? Also a month ago. I’m not a hugger in the family but I do hug my friends a lot.

prayed? Sometime when I was 9 or 10 years old.

worked out? Last semester when my PE was actually focused on working out instead of a sport.

made a phone call? This afternoon. My mom got me load for my phone (after a month of not having any!!!) just because, so I surprised Gab by calling her.

answered a phone? Last night.

had an argument? A few days ago.

played a video game? A little over an hour ago. I was playing Mario Kart 8.

played a card game? It wasn’t necessarily a card game but last January at Rita’s place, she took out a deck, asked us to pick certain cards, and then told us about our relationships and the issues that lurk beneath it based on the cards that were left hahahaha. Of course I think the strategy itself is bullshit but Rita speaks well and is a psych student, so we still ended up having a good conversation after hearing the verdict for mine.

played a board game? Ages ago. I can’t even tell you how long it’s been.

rode a bike? Around a month ago. I told myself I was gonna learn how to ride a bike during the quarantine, but it’s been so hot outside these days that it’s so easy to run out of enthusiasm for it.

fell on your butt? I don’t remember.

took a shower? In the last hour.

took a bubble bath? A year ago, maybe longer.

watched TV? I asked dad to watch El Camino with me on my his and my mom’s TV when it came out, so that would be last October.

saw a movie at a theater? December. It was for Knives Out.

ate fast food? 3-4 weeks ago if I’m not mistaken.

ordered a pizza? A couple of weeks ago. We tried Angel’s Pizza for a change and it turned out to be loads better than Pizza Hut which tends to be our usual.

made someone laugh? I probably made a few people laugh off of the few memes I shared today, so there’s that.

sang? Like a half hour ago. Hayley from Paramore shared a clip of the band performing Hard Times to celebrate the song turning 3 and it turns out the gig was from their show in Manila, so I hurriedly clicked on the video and sang along.

played a musical instrument? It’s been many months since I last used the keyboard.

read a book? A month-ish ago.

drove a car? My dad asked me to move my car to a different spot sometime last week, which felt so surreal as I hadn’t driven in a few weeks. It felt so weird driving again and I had to drive in a crawl to get accustomed to being in the driver’s seat again.

went swimming? August 2019, at a beach in Nasugbu.

got a sunburn? Haven’t gotten a sunburn since I was little.

went to church or temple? First week of March.

went shopping? I don’t really remember but it was one of the last few weekends before the lockdown.

drank alcohol? Two weeks ago.

smoked a cigarette? Sometime in March, the same night when my friends and I went to BGC to party. When everyone else went home, Gab and I stayed for a bit, strolled around The Palace, and had a smoke while watching everyone else around us get crazy wasted.

threw up? Sometime last year. I haven’t drunk too much recently.

had a headache? Tonight.

had a cold? Maybe last year or a couple of years ago. I don’t get colds a lot.

had the flu? Probably not since I was little. I’ve gotten fevers in the last few years but that was all there was to it. I’ve never been sick and had cough and colds at the same time, at least not for a very long time.

had your hair cut? A week before the lockdown -____- Barely anyone got to see my bangs and I’ll always be disappointed about that hahaha.

dyed your hair? Never.

laughed so hard that you cried? I remember watching a hilarious clip on Facebook of this lady who had a contagious fucking laugh, I think it was a week ago or a little over that.

[prorevenge]

Teacher tells me I am lying about my mother having cancer.

This is a long one with TLDR at bottom

This was in my grade 11 year of high school, My computer class had a year long substitute teacher because our amazing teacher was out for a year working on a government contract. Our previous teacher was outstanding. He had six different classes in our classroom all happening at the same time which were: computer repair, programming lvl1, programming lvl2, networking lvl1, networking lvl2a and lvl2b. He would give a lecture for each of the classes on a specific day of the week, programming on Monday, repair on Tuesday and so on, we would all work in our own groups and everything went quite well.

The next year came around and I found out that we had a sub for the year I had two back to back blocks in this class cause I was doing two courses, I wandered up to the class to see what kind of teacher we were dealing with, mainly interested because i was almost certain whoever they found did not have the credentials to teach at least half of those classes. The new teacher was a foreign woman that none of us have ever heard of before, for the purpose of the story we will call her Mrs. S.

I went and found my friends to tell them what I had seen. We were all optimistic cause from a very short conversation she seemed quite informed and had a good background.

It didn't last long, on the first day of class Mrs. S introduced herself as a programming teacher who had been in school for four years. She went on to tell us about her programming experience in Microsoft Excel and Microsoft Access. She then told us that the programming students would not be doing the Java and C++ course we had signed up for and would instead be doing database and Excel because those are what she learned and she said and i quote 'they will be more useful than C and The Java'. She also went on to suspend all at lunch clubs because she didn't think high school students could be trusted with computers alone.

Understandably some of us were quite upset about that considering that we came there to program. She also did not give the repair people or the networking people any kind of support and completely stopped their lectures as well, preferring to let them figure it out themselves and 'self teach' without giving any of the resources to do so and occasionally throwing out a test pre-written by the last teacher for her.

This continued for about two weeks till one day she came in and said quite irritated that we would actually be doing 'The Java' now unless we wanted to keep doing database, so we switched to Java and she basically left us out to dry from there. because she wasn't teaching Database anymore she came to harass people in computer repair. First she told us the shop room was too messy and made us throw out 90% of our training workstations and equipment because they were not important in her eyes. Equipment that did not belong to the school but actually belonged to the other teacher. We took home what we could steal for safe keeping but she did end up throwing out a few thousand in equipment.

Then she started imposing stupid rules on us such as;

"You can't have the computer on while you are troubleshooting inside cause you could electrocute yourself"

Or

"You don't need the case open to troubleshoot motherboard lights"

Or my personal favorite and the most scary

"maybe you should change the power supply to 240v if you aren't getting enough power"

We followed most of her stupid requests as much as we could because she threatened to lock us out of the lab room and give us only textbook work if we didn't. Needless to say it was a challenging time. One of the students in the networking area got fed up and started doing up his own course work and lecturing to us so that we could at least get some kind of use out of the courses. To his credit it was all very good but Mrs. S had the balls to force him into doing it from there on out and then turn around and give him low grades for not getting his own work done on time.

A few months of this very uneasy balance go by and my mother comes down with Colon cancer. I have already had a handful of other family members suddenly taken from me by cancer so understandably this is a very stressful time. I was joking with my friends and trying to not break down over the whole thing. I had a very unstable laptop running Linux that would crash if looked at funny and had a horrible habit of corrupting the OS when the battery died because the reserve shutdown sensor didn't work anymore (battery always read 0% but would go for an hour or two). while I was working on the school desktop computer I had a few pages open that I was taking notes in and a facebook tab so I could keep in contact with my mother cause she was in surgery and I was waiting for her to come out. I look over and the teacher is snooping through my laptop opening folders and closing windows and eventually pushes the power button in till it shuts down (which also usually corrupts anything I was doing). The following happened.

M: What the hell do you think you are doing?

S: You shouldn't be on facebook or writing notes on a personal computer during class time, especially when your grades are slipping.

Thanks for bringing that up in front of everyone...

M: That gives you no right to touch my stuff! You better hope you didn't just corrupt everything! this laptop breaks easy.

S: Then you shouldn't have it out during class, keep that tone up and I'll see you get a detention.

At this point I am trying just to keep calm because if I get too emotional I have a tendency to explode. This is often made worse because of my mild autism. I took a second replied in a calmer tone.

M: I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time at home right now... My mother was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and I am waiting to hear back.

And this is the part which REALLY set me off.

S: You don't look like a kid who's mother has cancer, quit making sob story excuses.

are you FUCKING kidding me‽

It took every fiber of my body not to stand up and slap the bitch right there. I gave her the dirtiest thousand yard stare I think I have ever done while also trying to not burst out crying. I spoke to nobody for the rest of the day till I got home, people kept asking if I was okay and I ignored everyone. My mother was out of the hospital and home by the time I got there. I broke down crying and told her about my day, her face was comforting but you could see the fire of an angry woman behind her brown eyes. She told me not to worry and that it'd be okay.

A few weeks passed and I was called into the office for a one on one parent teacher conference someone forgot to tell me about. There were all the teachers I had that year, good and bad, my Learning assistance teacher the VP and the principal herself. They told me that we were there to discuss my grade slippage as soon as my mother came. My mother was about 10 minutes late, leaving me to awkwardly sit with all these people. She comes in and is all smiles,

M: Sorry I am Late! I got held late at the hospital.

Someone but i'm not sure who asked her why she was at the hospital and if everything is okay. My mother answered in her happy way.

M: I was just getting my C̭̟̦̤̕A̰̣̰̼Ń͕̝̬C̵͕E̯R̥̫͇̹̳͝ checked on, Because I have cancer.

The room went cold and her voice seemingly dripped with blood when she said it, my computers teacher went pale and everyone in the room was giving a confused 'what on earth did you do' look

My mother proceeded to relay me coming crying home about how I was treated to everyone present while Mrs: S tried to become one with the wall of the small meeting room. She kept it short but to paraphrase added the following.

M: How dare you say something so careless to my son, I hope you are ashamed and I hope you don't get invited back for another year.

She then returned back to her normal happy self and discussed my grades like nothing happened whilst half the teachers were still trying to figure out what just happened and told them that now she was out of the hospital my grades should improve again. I just sat quiet the whole time and tried to suppress bursting out laughing.

After that day she never directly spoke to me again, had instructions relayed through other people or gave them to the class as a whole, she did her damnedest to be nowhere near me and say nothing to me. My grades improved quite a bit and the year ended with me passing.

Mrs. S was previously offered a job at the school as a secondary computer teacher but after all the trouble the job was pulled back. The next year when our first computer teacher returned he was furious to learn most of his equipment and personal books had been thrown out, we returned the things that we snagged during the purge but he still lost a few thousand in personal teaching stuff. The school payed him back with 10,000 but he says he lost so much more than that in time and pre-set hand made equipment. We told him all about the horror show and he gave us all an extensive test normally given at the end of the year which the vast majority of us failed, we ended up redoing all the computer courses from the previous year because in his words she didn't even teach us the basics. that sub can no longer teach in this or the neighboring districts

TLDR: Shitty year long sub fucks us all over, tells me i am faking my mother's cancer and destroys another teachers personal property. Gets ripped into by mother with all my teachers and VP and P present. looses opportunity to work in my district or any surrounding for being unprofessional and not knowing her subject forcing everyone in her class to retake the next year.

(source) (story by flanigomik)

[spider-boi]

Not Over You

Summary: What happens when you meet up with your ex after breaking up 3 years ago?

A/N: so i'm back lmao hi for anyone new here my name's bea i write fanfic but i feel like i'm hella rusty but hey i missed doing this sm

Tom Holland x Reader

// Masterlist //

The coffee shop wasn’t busy. There were a few students typing about on their laptops, some couples holding hands while they spoke to each other in whispers, and a small group of friends catching up with each other, their occasional loud giggles causing other customers to give them dirty looks.

The shop was peaceful, serene. And I was anything but. My foot tapped tapped on the hardwood floor and I was picking on the edge of the shirt. I jumped whenever I heard the bell that rang when a customer came inside and my heart stopped when I looked at who entered.

hey i’m in town maybe we can catch up? it’s been a while

I got that text 3 days ago and it’s been the only thing on my mind since.

Or that’s what I was trying to convince myself I didn’t do.

Of course I didn’t nearly have a panic attack at the sight of his name. No, I didn’t purposefully take longer to get ready today. How dare you think that I tried to perfect the dressed-up-but-not-really-trying look with this outfit.

No.

I wasn’t freaking out.

Believe me.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m practically shitting myself. My palms felt clammy so I wiped them down on my pants. There were two coffee mugs in front of me. One for myself and the other for him. Shaking my head, I pulled out my phone and tried to distract myself but when it opened it showed our text chain.

sure! meet at the usual cafe?

Now I regret ever sending that message.  I should never have agreed to meeting with him. I should just go now and tell him that something came up. But before I could make my quick escape, the bell rang again. Like the other times, I looked up at the door and saw him.

Tom.

My ex-boyfriend.

He scanned the room until his eyes met mine. He smiled and I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach. Tom was still as handsome as ever. He sauntered over to my table.

“Hey.” Tom took the seat in front of me.

“Hi.”

A silence came over us as we took each other in. His hair was shorter and his shoulders more broad. His once boyish features had grown more mature. It had been about 3 years since we last saw each other. We’d broken up on good terms. His work was getting so much busier and we’d decided it would be better for the both of us to just break up.

“Is this for me?” Tom pointed at the steaming mug.

“Oh, yeah. I got here a bit early so I decided to order for the both of us. I don’t know if you still like your coffee the same way but…” I trailed off. Tom picked the mug up and took a small sip.

He made exaggerated faces as he tasted the coffee. I giggled as he kept on his serious facade. “Just how I like it. You used to order this for me every time we’d go here.” Tom mused.

“Old habits, I guess.” I ran my finger across the rim of the cup, trying to keep my hands from shaking. Why was I so nervous? Oh my god.

“Yeah… so how have you been?” Tom leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve been good. Uh, I got a job at a marketing firm.”

“That’s great! Still going after your dream of owning one of your own?”

“You remember that?” I was taken aback by that. That was just one of my stupid dreams that I mentioned to him in passing while we were cuddling after we…

“Y-yeah, you used to talk about it a lot.” Tom took a longer sip of his coffee. I never mentioned it except for that one time.

“Right.” Just let it go. “Congrats on your movie, by the way. It was great.”

“You saw it?” Tom’s eyes went wide.

“Of course I did.” Not like I went on opening weekend, nope.

“Oh, thanks. It means a lot coming from you.” Tom wiped his palms on his jeans.

“Really? Why?” I scrunched my eyebrows together.

“Well, you weren’t exactly shy about sharing your opinions on my movies before. So, if you liked this one I must’ve done something right.” The corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“Can’t have your head getting too big, superstar.” I smirked and just like that we were chatting and joking around like we used to. Hanging out with Tom felt so normal. It’s like we never spent 3 years apart. Like nothing ever changed between us. You’re not together anymore, don’t forget that. We’d talked for hours that we didn’t even notice that it had gotten dark outside.

“Damn, is it that late already?” Tom peered out the windows.

“I guess so. Time flies when you’re having a good time right?”

“I know.” He chuckled.  The both of us stayed where we were, not bothering to move.

“If you want, we could go back to my apartment. Have some tea, chat some more.” I offered.

“Is this your way of trying to get me in bed? I remember you being more creative than that.” Tom raised an eyebrow. My face flushed and I rolled my eyes.

“In your dreams, Holland.” I collected my thing and stood up. Walking past him, I felt his eyes follow my form. I glanced back. “You coming?”

I walked to the door and didn’t need to look back around to know that he had followed me. The loud sound of the chair moving back against the wood and quick shuffling told me that. As I pushed the door open, the cool breeze hit my face and a flustered Tom Holland scrambled to my side.

“Eager?” I laughed. He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Just excited to be around you again.” Tom sent a boyish smile my way.

There goes the butterflies again. I cleared my throat and looked away from him. “Shall we?”

We walked together in comfortable silence. The occasional conversation would start but eventually we’d fall into that silence. My apartment wasn’t that far from the cafe we were in so it wasn’t long before we reached the brick face of the apartment building. We entered the elevator where Tom and I stood on either side of the elevator as if we were afraid to be close to each other.

Once the doors opened, I led us to my apartment and unlocked the door. I cringed at the sight of all my things scattered across the room. Tom whistled.

“You still can’t keep your room clean can you, darling?” Tom  pushed forward into my living room.

“I didn’t really plan on bringing someone home today.” I called out to him as I entered my kitchen. The tea bags were up in the back of the cupboard and I turned around so that Tom wouldn’t see the red tinge that formed on my cheeks when he called me ‘darling’. I began heating up the water in my kettle.

“Hey,” Tom called out to me. I looked over at him and saw that he was holding my small music box. My breath caught in my throat. “I gave you this.”

He looked back at me with an unreadable expression. Tom turned the small crank and a soft melody filled the room. La vie en rose. I used to sing this a lot when we were together. When the melody ended, a different kind of silence filled the room. Far from the comfortable silence we were in when were walking home.  Tom opened his mouth as if to say something but he was cut off by the whistle of the kettle.

I thanked whoever was up there for cutting the tension in the room. The kettle was letting out some steam and I turned it off. I poured the water into two mugs. The silence in the room was adding to the growing tension between us so I played music to alleviate some of it. Once I finished up the tea, I joined Tom back in the living room.

“Here.” I pushed the mug towards him.

“Thanks.” He took the mug in his hands but didn’t drink from it. I, on the other hand, took a big gulp just so that I could do something.

“Do you remember the time we went stargazing on your roof?” Tom started. “Your parents basically kicked me out for staying too late but I climbed up to your window anyways.”

“You told me to grab all my blankets and pillows. I could barely get up on the roof and you pulled me up. But you pulled me too hard, even without your superhero muscles,” I nudged his arm with my elbow. He chuckled. “And I crashed onto the roof and I made the loudest sound that basically echoed throughout the whole street.”

“I’m still surprised no one woke up to check on us.”

“I know, right?” I laughed at the memory.

“Then we sat there for hours just watching the stars.” Tom said in a far away tone.

“Yeah. That was a good day. No jobs to worry about, no rent to pay.” I leaned back against the soft plush of the couch.

“No paparazzi following your every move, no crazy fans.” Tom leaned back as well. I saw him turn his head to face me. I turned as well and met his gaze. The butterflies in my stomach went haywire again.

“The simple days.” I whispered. “I miss them.”

“I miss you.”

It took a while for Tom’s words to sink in. Did he just…

“What?”

“I miss you.” Tom repeated. “I… I always miss you.”

“Tom-”

“Sometimes, I find myself thinking of you and how we used to be and I’d start stalking you on Instagram and I see how happy you are and then I start feeling creepy cause now I know you went to Paris last year for your birthday and we haven’t talked in 3 years and now you’re looking at me like I grew a third head and maybe I should just go.” Tom rambled quickly that I could barely catch up with what he was saying, His cheeks were red and he stood up quickly, basically running towards the door.

“Tom!” I scrambled off the couch and grabbed hold of his wrist. I pulled him to face me and I was met with sad eyes. Almost… longing. “Did you mean it?”

“I-” Tom’s voice was shaking. “I’m not over you. I don’t think I ever got over you.”

I took in a shaky breath. Wasn’t this what I’ve wanted to hear since we broke up? “B-but weren’t you with that girl last year? It was all over social media.”

“She was just a friend. I… I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

My heart was racing. I could hear my pulse beating in my ears. My grip on Tom’s wrist loosened and I let my hand drop. He… I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Why am I crying? My head was spinning. He’s not over me.

Tom sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Oh god and now I made you cry. I’ll let myself out. I-It was nice seeing you again.” He turned around to go to the door and I finally snapped out of my daze. I’m not losing him again. I ran to him and stood in front of him. Tom had tears in his eyes. “Please, just let me go.”

“No. Tom… I’m not over you too.”

“You’re not?” I shook my head. A few tears came down my face and Tom wrapped his arms around me tightly. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed. He still smelled the same. He rubbed his hand comfortingly up and down my back. “It’s okay, love. I’m here. We’re gonna be okay.” I felt wet droplets hit my head and I looked up to see Tom crying as well.

I cupped his cheeks in my hands and wiped the tears away. He instantly leaned into my touch and placed a gentle kiss on my palm. His own hand came up to my cheek and pulled me close to him. Tom kissed my forehead and leaned his own against mine. I closed my eyes and relished in the feeling of being in Tom’s arms again.

Peeling my forehead away from his, I looked into his eyes. The same eyes I had fallen in love with before. The same eyes I still probably loved. But let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.

Tom’s eyes flickered down to my lips and I felt my breath hitch. I, too, looked down at his lips and remembered how good it felt to have someone be that intimate with. We felt ourselves leaning into each other then… Fireworks. The fire that had once been with us hadn’t died down as our lips moved together in a frenzy of emotions. Tom’s arms wrapped even tighter around my waist and I ran my fingers through his hair.

Eventually we had to come up for air and we reluctantly parted. Tom continued to place kisses all over my face which made me giggle. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled myself into his warm embrace. I pressed my lips against his neck to which Tom let out a low moan.

“Darling,” Tom whispered, his thumb making circles on my waist. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Tommy. Please don’t leave me again.” I mumbled.

“I won’t, love, as long as you don’t leave me too.” Tom couldn’t possibly have me closer to him with the way he was holding me now.

“I would never.” Tom pulled me up to give me one more kiss.

“Now,” Tom mumbled against my lips. “I think 3 years is way too long to be apart from each other now don’t you.”

“Hmm, I think so too.” I smiled. Our lips crashing against each other’s messily.

“We have some catching up to do, love.” Tom hitched me up onto his waist and I braced myself on his shoulders. I pulled away from his lips and looked at him. He smiled and pecked my lips again. “Which way to your room?”

“Down the hall to the right.” I attached myself to his lips once again. I felt him start walking and hit a wall. My giggles and a door slamming was all that was heard throughout my apartment. Well at least not for another half hour…

[oohfluffy]

LMN Ch.21 | OSH

Group: EXO

Member: Oh Sehun

Theme: Angst | Fluff | Writer!AU | Neighbor!AU

Word Count: 2,061

✎ Chapter 21: Promise ✎

"Why are you still up so late?"

You opened your window and asked him. Sehun leaned his chin on his palm and shamelessly gazed at you, making you a little bit flustered. Just a few seconds ago, you realized that you feel the same for this young man but you know this won't work.

"I just can't stop thinking of you, noona."

You slightly gulped at his sweet words, thinking that shouldn't you be used to his tactics now.

Why is it making me blush all of a sudden?

You almost face-palmed yourself literally for asking that to yourself when the answer is clear and you know it.

"Uhm. That's not good. You should sleep now, it's 12:36—"

"Why are you still up then, noona?" Sehun asked as he stared into your eyes, unconsciously melting you on the spot. You chewed your lower lip in perturbation, thinking of an excuse.

I can just say that I was working—

"Your laptop's off, meaning you weren't working late this time." Sehun's eyes were on your laptop that's just beside you, completely closed and unused.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat as Sehun read what was in your mind.

Is he a mindreader?!

"Were you thinking about me too much that you couldn't sleep, noona?"

"I-I wasn't!" You almost shrieked, making Sehun grin as if he caught you. "I-I was just thinking of random things, yeah."

"Like what?"

"You don't need to know that, little boy. Let's talk about you then. Why weren't you visiting Chanyeol these days?"

"Were you worried, noona?" Sehun bit his lower lip as he stared expectantly at you. You can feel yourself melting already.

"I-I wasn't! Maybe you were just studying or playing around that's why you didn't get to visit." You almost cursed at yourself for sounding so much like a girlfriend that has been left by her lover for a week.

"I wasn't playing around, noona. I study all the time while thinking of you, that's it." And here he is, the boyfriend who patiently explains why.

You shook your head with your unbelievable thoughts.

Why were you even thinking of him as a boyfriend?!

"Okay, I'll go to sleep now." You were about to close the window, thinking that you won't even blink an eye later now that you saw him and with the words he said.

"Noona, wait."

Your eyes widen as Sehun leaned both of his arms on his window's frame and got closer to yours. You quickly opened your window that was half-closed and pushed his shoulders back on his room.

"Yah! That was dangerous! If you got off balance, you would have—"

"I love you."

Your lips parted as he spoke in a low voice, his eyes boring his eyes into yours. You can see how his brown orbs glimmer under the moonlight, how his lips part as he stared at yours, how his long eyelashes flap as it slightly touches the under of his eyes.

The sky was dark, everything was, except the lamps that illuminated your room and his. Even though the light wasn't that bright, you can see his handsome face as it comes closer to yours.

"Did you hear that, noona?" Sehun grabbed your hands on his shoulders and brought them up to his cheeks, nuzzling on them.

"Sehun loves you."

You felt your eyes water as you heard his pleading voice. You just want to say it back but your mind was preventing you to.

You're just gonna make this young gentleman cry when the time comes.

You just smiled at him and gently caressed his cheeks, gaining a beautiful smile from the young man.

"I know and I'm grateful for you, Sehun-ah." You said before slowly pulling your hands away from his hold. Sehun slightly frowned as your warmth escaped his grasp. "But you can't let your feelings go deeper than this. I can't—"

"It's already at the deepest pit of everything, noona. I can't dig them back up." Sehun curled his lips into a smile but a hint of sadness shadows it. Being an observant person, you saw through it and knew he was crestfallen.

It broke your already broken heart.

"I'm sorry, Sehun. You just made a mistake that you'll probably regret later." You mumbled as you slowly closed your window and brought down your blinds but Sehun stayed still and stared at you behind those. You stood in front of the window and saw that he didn't move nor did he get back in. Your heart clenched agonizingly as you walked away from the window and back to your bed.

"If you knew about my condition, you'll just get hurt more than this." You whispered, closing your eyes as you laid on the bed.

Sehun blinked away his tears as he closed his window. He leaned his forehead on it, his breath fogging up the glass as his hands rest on the frame.

"Loving you is not a mistake that I'll regret for the rest of my life, noona." Sehun whispered as he smiled, tears finally set free from his eyes.

"It's the only right thing that I've ever made that I won't ever lament that I did until the day I die."

✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗

"Noona, I've talked to Sehun already and he's fine. Uhm— It's just because his parents came back and he got pressured in school." Chanyeol explained, his feet tapping, making me raise an eyebrow at him. "Ah, you know things that students make fuss about."

"Okay then, I'm glad."

Chanyeol grinned in triumph as he got out of your room and closed the door, thinking that he successfully made a good excuse.

Not knowing you already talked to his best friend last night.

"Unnie." A knock stopped you from working and Chanhee peeked on your door.

"Yes, Chanhee?"

"Dasom unnie is here."

The said woman came in with a smile and opened her arms for you to hug. You grinned as you stood up and got inside of her comforting hug.

"I missed you, Dasom."

"I missed you too. Sorry I didn't visit you on the holidays. Mom got badly sick, so we just celebrated our Christmas and New Year in the hospital. I got too busy with work too." Dasom sighed as she nuzzled her head on your neck. You rubbed her back as she relaxed in your arms.

"You did well. Take a break first then." You smiled as you tugged her to your bed.

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you? You work endlessly, sweetie." Dasom whined as she laid on your bed as if she was home. You laughed at her before replying.

"I'm sending my reviewed book tomorrow, so I'll be resting and doing whatever I want after."

That made Dasom sit up straight in surprise.

"YOU'RE FINALLY FREE?!"

"The next day, I will."

"WE CAN FINALLY HAVE GIRLS TIME?!"

"The next day, we can."

"OH MY GHAD! THIS IS THE BEST NEWS I'VE EVER HEARD!"

Dasom engulfed you in her bear hug, making you giggle as you missed her warmth.

"It's not like I haven't rested in the middle of working. I rest whenever I have free time."

"You don't have free time, Yeoreum. Stop fooling me. You’ve been like this since we’re in college.”

"Yeah, you caught me."

Dasom pulled away and held your hand excitedly.

"What should we do the next day then? Should we go to the salon? The cinema? Or shopping? Should we tag our siblings with us?!"

"That won't be girls time then. If you're forgetting, Chanyeol's not a girl."

Dasom looked shocked but laughed.

"Oh right, I forgot."

The both of you chatted as if you've never seen each other for years. She told you about the Spring festival that will be happening in two weeks, planning to buy hanboks and other accessories. She invited you to come and you tried rejecting when Chanyeol's voice echoed your mind.

"Noona, let yourself live for a while."

"I'll go!" You squealed as Dasom tickled your waist. She grinned triumphantly and moved away from you before turning her head on your window, where the sunlight shines on your desk.

"How's your hottie neighbor?"

You almost choked on your saliva when you heard the word 'neighbor', maybe the 'hottie' word too.

"W-What are you talking about?" You slightly wetted your lips as Dasom stared at you.

"I mean, how is he as a neighbor? Is he being a jerk to you or hitting on you? What?"

"He's not a jerk nor he's..." You glanced at your window, remembering how he stared at you last night as he said those three words. "...hitting on me."

"He's a good boy then?"

"He is." You nodded as you smiled unconsciously, making Dasom smirk.

"You like him."

"Yeah, I do— What?!"

"Caught you." Dasom giggled as she poked on your cheek, causing you to blush like you're on fire.

You thought of denying it but what would that do to you? Nothing. You're just gonna lie to yourself.

"Alright, you caught me." You surrendered as you bit her finger that was poking you. She shrieked as she pulled away, making you laugh.

"You!" Dasom huffed as she crossed her arms before smiling again. "Tell me everything then."

"Uhm. Where do I start?" You mumbled to yourself as you felt uncomfortable telling your newly found feelings.

"I'll just ask then. When did you know that you like him?"

"I didn't know. It's just last night that I realized that I like him." You shrugged as your cheeks flamed up again.

"So, you must have started liking him unconsciously that you didn't notice it?"

"Yeah, like that."

"Have you felt your heart running faster for him? Or feeling nervous when he's around?"

You didn't need to think twice about it.

"Yes, I did. A lot of times actually. I just thought it was because of my sickness." You mumbled as you played with the blanket under you.

"Did you tell him about it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You know why I can't tell him, Dasom." You turned to her and her eyes dimmed as she realized why. "He'll just get hurt at the end. We can never work."

"You're leaving something out."

"What?"

"What do you think he feels for you?"

You stopped moving your hands and stayed still as Dasom watched your eyes well up. She grabbed your hands and made you look back at her.

"Does he like you back, Yeoreum-ah?”

Your tears streamed down your face as you stared at her in sadness. You nodded as you tried gulping down the cry that's trying to come out from your throat.

"S-Sehun loves me, Dasom..." You sobbed as Dasom pulled you closer to her, rubbing your back as you spoke. "He fucking loves me."

Chanyeol backed away from your door as he heard your words as you sobbed. His hand fell on his side and he stared at your door.

"It hurts to know that I'll hurt him in the future."

Chanyeol's tears flowed down on his cheeks as he heard you crying and your sad tone.

"Noona likes him too?" He whispered.

He went back to his room and texted his best friend.

1:56 pm

To: My Best Friend Sehun

What the fuck is your plan now? Noona's crying!

After minute, Sehun replied.

1:57 pm

From: My Best Friend Sehun

She is?! Oh my god. Should I go there?!

Chanyeol almost threw his phone at his best friend's reply.

1:59 pm

To: My Best Friend Sehun

Just fucking tell me you planned something for her! You told her your feelings, take responsibility of it!

On the other side, Sehun leaned his back on the headboard and smiled as he replied to his best friend.

2:00 pm

To: Yeol the Giant

I'll make her happy. That's my plan.

Sehun put down his phone and stood up to walk to his table. He flipped the calendar and grabbed his pen on his side. He encircled a date with a smile.

January 20

It's a Saturday, one week from now.

"Our first date will be next week, noona." Sehun mumbled as he touched the number.

"I swear I will make you the happiest person."

Indeed, he will.

That's a promise he made not only to you but to himself also.

—

Fluffy’s note: 4 chapters and an epilogue left. 🤞

— 

❥ Ch.22