#He is named after a type of banana

[wasabi-beeeeatz]

First Meeting

The crickets were chirping quite loudly as the Mistress and her son walked through the jungle in the hunt for the Mighty Bananas. It was supposed to be a peaceful hunt. Until the sky turned dark and started storming, lightning striking the ground.

The Mistress knew Faron had storms but not ones like this. She notices a large being with three heads towering over her and Manzano. Lightning had struck her, causing the young Yiga to scream in fear. The three headed beast snaps its jaws at the young boy before a sharp blade inserted itself hilt deep in the throat. It dropped to the ground and exploded into purple mist.

The young Master looked around for whoever threw that blade before hearing a gruff and deep hum from above him. He looked up and saw a tall boy hanging upside down from a large branch. But he wasn't using his legs to hang upside down. He was using a tail? How can Hylians have tails?

The tall boy jumps down from the branch and walks over the monster parts to retrieve his sword. He had some sort of limp to his walk. Paw like tracks were imprinted in the mud. Just what kind of Hylian is this boy?

"You are welcome," the deepened voice hummed out before turning his head to stare at the young Master. He had a resting annoyed face that made him look.. intimidating. "It is not like I saved your life."

"Well you WERE a bit late! You didn't save MY mother!"

"Aaaaaapologies for being SOOOOO late to the hunting party. I am as slow as a Hyrulian Bass."

"What...?"

"A saying from Lurelin mother taught me. She lives nearby. Come.. let me take you to her."

And with that, the massive and stoic teenager walks off with a limp. Manzano noticed that the boy's spine was covered in a strange fuzz. In fact, he did look a bit cat like in the facial region. Kind of like the young Master! he was starting to get strange feelings for this kid.

The two walked towards a well made house. The taller of the two crouched down, holds up a finger and sticks the claw like nail into the keyhole. A click was heard and the boy stood up again. He had to duck to walk inside, Manzano soon to follow. He looked around but what caught his attention was the fruit bowl full of Mighty Bananas. His mouth waters at the sight of it.

He went to reach for one before a monstrously large hand wraps around his small wrist. His face flushed red with embarrassment but also with admiration.

"No. Don't grab those. They are for father when he comes back." the low voice hummed again.

The young Master felt like an arrow was shot through his heart and he was lovesick for this oversized soon to be Right Hand.

[kodamaghost00]

30 L lawliet Headcanons

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[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!

You’re a task force member in this scenario.

———————————————————

He wouldn’t call you any nicknames, so that the other task force members won’t notices you two liking each other.

But the few times you two are alone together he calls you “Dear” or “Love”. He sticks with the romantic names.

He shares all his sweets with you, but you have to ask him nicely.

He enjoys gentle affection way more than rough love. Gentle hugs or forehead kisses are always welcome.

He doesn’t fall in love easily. In fact I would put him into the Aromatic spectrum. Only for the fact that he’s too focused on being the greatest detective of all time.

It took him some time as well to notice he loves you. Around 2-3 years to be exact.

He had some people seeking his love, but he never responded to any of them.

He’s probably the smartest man alive so sometimes you feel dumb next to him. (Sometimes he reassures you that you’re doing great)

His love language is Acts Of Service. He appreciates it the most when you buy him cake. He loves it even more when you backe one yourself!

He rarely cries. Like at all. You saw him cry like 1-2 times since you got to know him years ago.

He’s very paranoid of Kira killing you. Most of the time he tries to exclude you from the investigation.

Once you made him strawberry shortcake and he loved it! Loved it so much he wanted to show you how grateful he was…

He loves to give and receive neck kisses. He’d leave hickeys on you too but only where people can’t see them.

After all he wants to enjoy you alone. He’s very gentle so he rarely bites you. Not even when you ask him.

“I just don’t want to hurt you, that’s all. You’re so stubborn…”

He has great reflexes and is super flexible as well. He’s willing to try everything for your sake.

He also has a lot stamina. So you have to be prepared for nights that will last long. He cums throughout a lot.

He canonically can tie a cherry stem with his tongue only. Do whatever you want with this information.

He whimpers. But groans when he’s close.

He’s always awkward when it comes to aftercare. He doesn’t know what you want/need so he just decides to ask “What do you want to do now…?”

His cluelessness makes you chuckle most times but he does whatever you ask from him.

He’s not a fan of “sour” fruits like kiwi,pineapple or cranberry. He enjoys the sweeter stuff like banana,strawberry and cherry!

He’s the type of person that’s go non-verbal and let you ramble about your special interests. Not interfering once. Just absorbing all the information you provide.

If you guys fight he will apologize. Even if he knows he is right. He doesn’t like fighting with his loved ones.

He likes to buy you gifts at many times… he likes seeing your surprised smile!

He likes to hear your breathing while you sleep in one bed. It’s a nice ambiance.

He hates nuts. Walnuts, peanuts or even almonds. Everything nut related is a no go.

Every time you do something to make him laugh like embarrassing yourself for his sake, he laughs out of pity for you…

His full genuine laugh is so contagious… it’s really rare, so rare that no one besides you and Watari heard it before.

He takes his time with marriage or any commitment. He wants to make sure that you’re REALLY ready to marry a man like him.

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MASTERLIST

Hey guys! I’m really sorry that these took so long… and I’m also sorry if some Headcanons should come up twice, I’ve written this over a month now and just now finished it… don’t be too harsh on me!!!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[lovebugism]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

[illubean]

You should definitely do a death the kid or a Saiki k with a s/o who is getting doxxed :3

- 😕

Saiki W/ an S/o Who's Getting Doxxed

Characters: Kusuo Saiki Type: Headcanons, Crack?, Gn!Reader

LMFAO WHAT!? a lil short but silly

Warnings: mentions of cyberbullying i guess?

Saiki told you not to post your opinion about Toru Mugami (aka Makoto Teruhashi) on Twitter

now you are dealing with the terrifying consequences.

he knew exactly what was going on the minute you came to his house frantically trying to explain what happened

"All I said was he was overrated, WHY IS MY ADDRESS AND FULL GOVERNMENT NAME TRENDING!?"

you are freaking out and literally begging Saiki to let you stay in his house until the situation 'blows over'

he lets you stay even though he found the situation a little silly

well, until you started getting death threats flooding your email.

now he is angry

saiki is now gathering the personal information of all of your haters, hunting them down then hitting them with the memory loss banana so they forget all about your silly tweet (and your address)

he somehow manages to wipe everything about you off the internet so that NO ONE has any of your info (except for you him and family ofc)

you owe him a thousand coffee jellies after this.

[prismuffin]

May i ask for a one shot pls.

Can it be where the reader and miles is dating, but she's been acting weird and mile finds out there is a new spider man, and its really the reader.

A/n: wow It’s been a minute since I’ve written a full fic no? Pris is almost back babyyy~

Coincidence

Miles Morales x fem!spiderman!reader

( summary: being the new Spider-Man is hard, but hiding it from your boyfriend is harder )

!-!more under the cut!-!

You groaned as you walked through the hallway, stretching and rolling your shoulders to loosen the aching pain that spread across your entire body. You were sore, though after a night full of training how to swing around the city and stop crime you weren't the least bit surprised that it was so.

“Ayo Miles!”

The sound of your boyfriends name pulled you away from your mind as you turned towards the direction of the shout. There he was, Miles Morales, your boyfriend who you’ve been promptly ignoring for the past week and a half. You feel like shit for it but not too long ago you got bitten by a radioactive spider and became somewhat of a new Spider-Man, a Spider-Woman if you will. You’re still getting used to the new gig and the powers that come along with it and in your conflicted state you’ve been ignoring not only Miles but the rest of your friends as well.

You turned back around, not missing how his eyes barely caught yours right before you did and started walking towards your final class of the day.

Just one more class and then you could go....fight crime- after homework of course! Once again, you've been so swamped with this new Spider-Woman gig recently it's really had a terrible impact on your life. Your stress shot up after you scrambled to get your work completed so that you could train to help save the city that never sleeps. You never took that nickname more seriously in your life. It also sucks that your social life has dropped immensely. No more after school hangouts with friends let alone your boyfriend who you feel so bad for blowing off. Sometimes you think life would be better if you just cut everyone around you off but you don't want to lose them it just seems like the easy way out.

—TS—

You bolted out of your seat as the bell rang, dashing through the schools halls before the mass of students could begin to overwhelm them. You needed to get to Mays, do some calculus work, then suit up-

“Y/n!”

You shoes screeched against the floors as you stopped yourself from crashing into Miles, who stood in front of the main entrance, arms out ready to catch you if you tripped. You stopped in his arms and he firmly held you from falling forwards. You breathed heavily as you pulled back from him. "Why are you-" looking up, you winced as your senses skyrocketed, your "Spidey-senses" were activating as you looked at Miles, a sense of familiarity filled your mind.

"You're just like...-" Miles started, his eyes searching yours for any type of answer but you quickly remembered where you were supposed to be. "Miles! I-I gotta go-" You moved around him and dashed out the door, ignoring his calls for you to come back. With your backpack in hand you ran into the subway station, ready to head to May's house. She had found you initially after you'd been bitten, recognized the symptoms and took you in under her wing. She got you web-shooters and a suit and allowed you to train in the confines of the Spider-Lair.

Today was meant to be your debut! You were gonna go out, save a few civilians, meet the Spider-Man that had appeared after the original had died and make your name as Spider-Woman. But that's after you help May with her banana bread recipe.

Knocking on her door you smiled at the sight of the older woman as she opened it. She greeted you, beckoning you inside after introductions were done. The rest of your afternoon was spent finishing that calculus work and making banana bread.

After finishing both tasks were completed, you were ready to make your debut, but the doorbell had delayed that. You looked at May in confusion as she smirked and stood. "There's a slight change in plans," "what?" You wondered aloud as your eyes followed her across the room. "I wanted you to meet Spider-man first, get yourselves acquainted before I sent you out on patrols for the first time." She said as she closed in on the front door, grabbing the knob, she cleared her throat a bit before opening it. You could hear her greet someone, you could see the side of his suit so you knew it was the Spider-man. You turned away to calm yourself as the reality truly sunk in that you were about to meet spiderman, hero of New York!

May cleared her throat, "Y/n this is Miles, or Spiderman and Miles this is-" "Miles?" "Y/n?" You turned around quickly, noticing Spiderman's shocked expression as he stared at you. May's eyes flickered in between you both, her expression becoming increasingly more confused. "I knew it! I knew I felt something earlier- What is- You're a Spider-man too?!" Miles yelled, pulling his mask off near the end of his sentence. "Spider-Woman actually-" May corrected him and your heart sped up as you stared at the previously masked mans face. "I- I didn't- Miles? You're Spider-man!! And you never told me?!" You yelled in shock and he crossed his arms. "Technically I can be mad at you for the same thing." You shook your head, laughing in disbelief before a silence overtook you two.

"So, I'm guessing you both know each other than."

"She's my girlfriend-" May gasped, standing there for a moment before clapping her hands together. "This is great news! See, you both already know and care for each other so you're sure to have each others backs on the streets." You blinked and sighed at the enthusiasm of the older woman. "Let's go to the lair shall we?" She walked off, leaving you and Miles to follow her but you stopped him before he could.

"Can we just- talk for a second?" You asked and he sighed and nodded, leaning against the circular table in the kitchen. "Look I- I never meant to ignore you- well I did! But only until I figured all this stuff out. I was bit by some kind of spider, May found me and took me in, I've been training with her for a while and it's been really stressful." Miles eyebrows creased at the sight of your saddening expression. "Yeah I get what you mean, it took me a while to find a good balance." He scratched the side of his head, looking away from you for a moment. "We're still good right?" He asked and you immediately nodded, a small smile growing on your face. "Yeah we're still good Miles." You stepped closer to him and he followed your lead, grabbing you and bringing you into a solid hug before kissing the side of your cheek. You laughed as you pulled back, still holding each other comfortably. "I can't believe my boyfriend is Spider-man!" "I can't believe my girlfriend is Spider-woman!" He laughed along with you, the previous tension being forgotten as the humor swept it away.

"We probably shouldn't keep May waiting," you said, still giggling from the previous conversation. "Yeahhh good idea, lets go." You both started making your way to the backyard, and for the first time in almost two weeks, you held your boyfriends hand.

———

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Masterlist

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.”

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 1)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fuff, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 3.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 2

(We’re kicking of Valentine’s Day a bit early❣️ Enjoy!)

“I’m all for growing the sport, but Brady buying an MLP team is ruining the integrity of the league. He may be the GOAT of football, but he has nothing on Ben John’s world-class pickleball game,” your date Max passionately states from his spot across from you at the Italian place he had recommended.

Or was his name Mac?

He’d already told you all about the CRBN paddle drama. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had already prepared a PowerPoint presentation on the topic complete with transitions and color-coded charts. He seems the type.

And he had yet to ask you a single question about yourself all evening.

You can tell he is gearing up for the next part of his rant, when your phone lights up on the table, the ringer on higher than you realized.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I had this on silent. It’s my mom, I should probably take this,” you apologize to him, your phone already halfway raised to your ear.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mom, I’m with someone right now. Is everything ok?” You let a little worry tinge the tone of your voice.

“Seriously?” Rooster drolly rasps on the other end of the line, “Are we actually doing this?”

“Oh no! Is she alright?” You wouldn’t consider yourself actress, but you think you’re really selling the performance with the way you widen your eyes and how you make your voice go a little tighter and higher.

“Yup, seems like we’re really doing this. What’s it this time, kid? Did grandma slip on a banana peel and then get run over by a reindeer?” You can practically feel his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly goes along with you.

“Oh my goodness, that sounds serious! How would that even happen?” you ask, shaking your head in in faux shock determined to really sell the act.

“Is everything ok?” Max-Mac whispers to you from across the table. 

His profile didn’t raise any red flags when you’d swiped on him. If anything, he’d seemed a bit more of the beige flag type. Your chats had been fine, he seemed fine, so why not meet up for a date?

What you didn’t realize until it was too late was that “Sports Enthusiast” actually translated to “Pickleball Fanatic”.

“Hold on, Mom,” you hear Rooster scoff as you pull the phone away from your ear. “I’m so sorry, there’s been a family emergency. It’s my grandmother. I really need to go,” you announce to Mac-Max grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. “Thank you so much for understanding. And good luck at your pickleball tournament!” you call back to him as you hustle towards the front door.

“I take it you’ve made your escape?” You can hear the humor in his voice, your antics are nothing new to him.

“Oh my god, was that seriously only thirty minutes? He wouldn’t stop talking about pickleball, Rooster. Anytime I tried to change the subject, he found a way to circle right back to it!” You tell him as you attempt to dig your keys out from where they were buried in your bag. “And then, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and said, I kid you not: ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t an ankle monitor, I’m just wearing my ankle weights.’ Who does that?”

“Just come to the Hard Deck. You should have canceled like I told you to in the first place. Bob and Coyote got back the other day, so everyone’s here. Well, almost everyone,” he says pointedly. “We’re more fun anyways. And Hangman has been harassing me about you, something about your fluke of a win?”

You’d kicked Jake’s ass the last time you played darts with him. Although in his defense, he had been pretty drunk that night and it was a less than fair game since Phoenix would distract him while Fanboy moved your darts on the board.

You wouldn’t be challenging him to a rematch anytime soon. Not unless the odds were in your favor, it was better to keep him on his toes and his ego in check.

Thankful for the princess parking you managed to snag when you first arrived, you unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger seat before climbing in. Breathing out a sigh of relief to be done with Mac-Max once inside.

“You back in your car yet?” Rooster asked. He was such a worrier, but you can’t say it bothered you. You liked knowing he cared.

“Yeah, just got in.”

“Ok good, see you in a few. Drive safe, kid.”

Thirty minutes later Natasha was sliding a cold, frothy pint in front of you with a sympathetic look.

It wasn’t too busy at the Hard Deck yet, but it was still early in the evening. You knew it would pick up soon, and before long Penny would be ringing her bell on some rowdy unsuspecting customer.

“Ankle weights?” She asked, trying and failing to keep from laughing at your expense.

“Seriously, Rooster?” you shoot a glare in his direction, “Where’s the loyalty?”

“What? She was right there when I called you. A request that was your idea, if you remember,” he said as he walked up to you, squeezing your shoulder before sliding his arm around you in greeting. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t already tell Phoenix about all your escapades. You really know how to pick ‘em, kid.”

You’ve known Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw since before you had braces back when you were still wearing your hair in two braids. Your moms had been on the school PTA together at the time and had hit it off immediately.

He hadn’t been too happy about being forced to hang out with the kid who was couple years younger than him, especially one who was so clearly enamored with the cute older boy. While you’d outgrown that phase, for the most part, somethings stuck- like the nickname. 

And over the years you’d formed your own bond outside of the forced proximity of your mothers’ friendship.

He’d taught you how to throw a punch, the different ways to pitch a baseball, and to drive a stick shift. You’d taught him how to whistle with his fingers, to play Nerts, and to tie a tie (after asking your dad to teach you).

The give and take was easy with him, you both showed up for the other.

You were there the night he drunkenly fell through the glass patio door at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party. As one of the only sober people there since he wouldn’t let you drink, or let anyone else give you alcohol for that matter, you were the one to take him to the ER. “Don’t worry, kid,” he had slurred, pressing the Washington High t-shirt that you’d found in your trunk to his face to stop the bleeding, “Looks s’worse than it feels.” And you were the one to stay with him as he was stitched up. The evidence of that night still unmistakable on his face.

He was there for you when your parents had sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. A hurricane of angst and grief, you hadn’t left your room for anything other than school for over a week when he’d let himself in your room one afternoon. Rubbing small circles on your back as he’d let you cry for a bit, he didn’t even tease you about the stains you’d left behind on his shirt. And then he’d herded you into his crappy car and drove you to the slightly sketchy amusement park an hour away with the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant corndogs. And when he’d told you “It’s going to be ok, kid” on the ride back home, you believed him.

You had been there for him when his mom passed, and all during that dark period after when he was set on self-destruction after his fallout with Maverick. While he had tried to push everyone away, you were always the type to hold on tightly to the people that mattered.

And then life had sent you on different directions. First when he went to college and then when you did. Next for him the Navy, and then you with your own career, both of you always in motion. You two shared a connection the way people with a long history do, the kind where you could go months without talking but knowing the other person is always right there if you need them. Your camaraderie sustained by texts, email, and the occasional FaceTime.

A long-distance friendship for over a decade.

So when your boss had approached you about a promotion that was dependent on you relocating to the West Coast, you thanked whatever kismet in the universe had you packing for San Diego where he was permanently stationed.

The break up with your boyfriend at the time was entirely too amicable considering how long you had been together. He was nice, the sex was nice, your life together was nice. You had all but signed the paperwork for your promotion when you told him, but he didn’t see himself as a west-coaster and you couldn’t envision yourself as anything but. Whether you had stayed together all that time out of convenience or complacency, you still couldn’t say.

It was easy to fall back into the comfort of your friendship with Rooster. Although the lanky teen you had known was replaced with a mustache sporting well-built man courtesy of the Navy. One that had left you feeling confusingly flustered on more than one occasion, and forced to cycle through your mental highlight reel of embarrassing teen Rooster moments to keep from your mind from wandering.

He’d helped you find your apartment, taught you about avoiding the 15 Northbound, and showed you where the best place in town to get tacos was. The transition was made easy with him by your side as he introduced you to his team members who quickly folded you into their group as one of their own.

That was a little over a year ago. You liked this new life of yours in San Diego.

And while the dating pool of men you could swipe through was much larger, well, some things never changed.

“You don’t get it, Rooster. You’re surrounded by absurdly hot Naval eye candy all day,” you complained gesturing to Natasha, she raised her beer to you as thanks in response. “While you’re getting women throwing themselves at you because of the gold wings, I’m fighting for my life on these stupid apps where all the men on there are posing with fish. It’s brutal!”

You’d need to officially call things off with Max-Mac later, thinking to yourself how glad you were that you never gave him your real number, and instead signing up for a Google voice number. You were just not cut out for the competitive pickleball lifestyle.

“Bradshaw, why don’t you set her up? It’s not like we don’t know enough people who would be better options than these fish men,” Natasha asked, like it was the most logical thing in the world, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, Bradshaw. Tell Nat your super logical reasons for leaving your longtime friend to fend for herself.” You knew where this was heading, so you took a long swig of the beer Phoenix had brought you.

“Seriously, not this again.” His arm that was around you was removed in favor for pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up to the ceiling like it would spare him from the conversation.

“You started it, now tell her.”

“I need another damn drink if we’re going to do this,” Rooster mumbled.

“Me too,” chimed Natasha, clearly reveling in his misery.

“Make that three. I need to catch up.” You hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get a drink at the restaurant, and now you were ready to let loose a bit.

He grunts out some unintelligible thing and then stalks off to the bar shaking his head.

“I’m an upstanding citizen, I pay my taxes, I make a mean peanut butter brownie, and I always drive him around when the Bronco is in the shop for a tune up. It’s literally the least he could do,” you say to Phoenix as you watch him chat with Penny as she works to grab the fresh bottles.

“Oh, so this is thing,” Natasha says decidedly when she eyes the six beers he’s carrying back to the table, three bottles held by the neck in each of his large hands. His classic Hawaiian shirt fluttering with every step, your eyes briefly drifting down to his defined waist.

“Sure is,” you confirm, drawing out the word. Downing the rest of the beer from your pint glass before reaching for one of the new bottles Rooster was divvying out amongst your trio, “I’ve never asked him for anything-”

“That is a boldfaced lie. And you know it,” he cuts in, as he hands you a granola bar from his pocket, that he must have snagged from Penny. “You definitely asked me to set you up with Kyle Cooke from my baseball team in high school. I didn’t do it then, and I’m not doing it now,” he declared, pointing at you with an accusatory finger to further drive the statement home.

“Reasons being?” Natasha wheedled, a mischievous smirk on her face. You could tell she was eating this up, there were two things Natasha Trace loved most in this world: juicy gossip and giving Rooster a hard time.  

Ever the showman, he dramatically lifts up a finger, “First of all, everyone I know is an asshole.”

“I am offended on Bob’s behalf,” you countered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite, annoyed. Hangman might fit the description, but certainly not Bob.

“Two,” he continues on, raising a second finger, and ignoring you completely as if you hadn’t just made a very valid point, “Let’s say I set you with a friend and then you end up hating them. Then you’ll judge me for being friends with them, we’ll argue, and eventually we won’t be friends anymore. Or even worse, I set you up with someone, you hit it off and date for a while. What happens when you break up? I’m left having to pick sides and walk on eggshells around you guys about the other person.”

“God, you’re such a overthinker. That all sounds totally rational, you drama queen,” you look to Phoenix for agreement, but she’s busy typing out a text message on her phone.

“And three, it’s messy as fuck. And I don’t need to hear about your trophy of a one-night stand.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “That was one time! It wasn’t a trophy it was a gold medal.”

“Wait, what?” Confusion coloring Natasha’s features. 

“One time this guy gave me one of those plastic gold medal things on a lanyard, kind of like the ones they give out at kids soccer games, after we hooked up. I mean, kicked him out right away, but I did keep the medal. It was a good confidence boost,” you shrug.  It wasn’t exactly a high point moment for you.

After that encounter you’d definitely started scrutinizing every profile a bit harder before swiping right, or at least you thought you had been. In your defense, at least Max-Mac’s profile didn’t have a fish photo, but the bar was still clearly on the ground.

“I knew you when you wore those shirts with that big mouthed monkey on them. And that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to know about. I don’t wanna be involved. Not gonna happen, kid,” his declaration resolute.

“Well, that sure is something, Bradshaw,” Natasha states, giving him a curious look.

“What are y’all over here discussing so intently,” Hangman questions as he saddles up to your little group, tucking his phone into his pocket. 

“We were just getting into the finer details of the kid’s dating life and how I am going to fix it by setting her up with this great guy I know,” she pronounces, looking all too pleased with herself. A truly self-satisfied grin gracing her face.

Natasha Trace was probably the most bad ass person you’ve ever met, so the idea of her setting you up with someone had you sitting up straighter on the stool you were seated on, “Really?”

“Who?” Rooster demands, frowning at her.

“Yeah, I mean Bradshaw clearly has his convictions, and I respect that. However, I’m an excellent wing-woman. Seriously, I don’t know why I haven’t thought about introducing you guys before. You two would be perfect together.”

Hangman never one to miss an opportunity to rile up Rooster is quick to jump in, “Just because you fly in a two-seater doesn’t make you a good wing-woman, Phoenix. However, now that you mention it, I have a buddy who might knock your socks off. Unless you’d rather just knock boots, I’m sure he’d be up for whatever you wanted,” he shooting you a wink. “I think I’ll toss my name in the ring here too. After all, I’m very good.”

“You want to make it a bet, Bagman?” Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she went toe to toe with him.

“What’re you thinkin’, Darlin’?” he drawls suggestively with a sharp smile. That ever-present toothpick being rolled in his mouth from side to side.

“You guys are not going to be making bets around the kid’s love life,” Rooster snaps.

“The big dogs are talking, Bradshaw,” Hangman taunts as he waves him off.  

“$50 entry? The dates happen here and at the end the kid picks which date was the best. Winner takes all?” You can see the competitive gleam in her eye.

“Alright, alright. Works for me, Phoenix. I can’t wait to take your money.”

“The hell you are,” Rooster barks, still trying to regain control of the quickly spiraling situation.

Well, this had certainly taken a turn.

You find yourself reaching for your third beer of the night.

And you’re even more surprised when Hangman hollers for the rest of the team to join, and before you know it your dating life takes centerstage as the subject of the bet between the group of competitive naval aviators. Many of the others deciding to join in, never ones to shy away from a bit of rivalry.  

“What do you say? You up for it?” Natasha asks, wanting to make sure you were still on board now that her original offer had taken on a life of its own.

You look over and see Rooster looking at you like you’d be crazy to get involved in their kind of chaos. You know he can already tell what your answer will be.

“Why not?” you agree cheerily as he groans into his beer.

At least you would be spared from swiping for a while. It’s what you deserve, you are an upstanding citizen after all.

Get ready for some dates! Part 2

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge! 

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me bounce ideas off of you!

Edit: I’ve started a tag list for Part 2! Just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[directdogman]

Commenting on DT fan OCs!

Alright, I'mma take a look at some DT fan OCs! I've been sent quite a few, so I'll try to keep my comments for each one short 'n' sweet!

great name, snappy dresser. diggin' the bowtie! the pins are also a fun accessory!

Another snappy dresser! Tied well to an existing location in-game and the idea to explain the stickers is cute! attire is unique/memorable and the blues/browns compliment each other well. solid design. I do appreciate him!

Yo, this guy was in the last one! what is this, a crossover episode???

the bandage on side of face is a nice touch! digging the pinstripe pants too! graveyard shift at a convenience store is also quite an authentic job for a DT side character to have too! very nicely done.

Solid OC! well-drawn, unique job and her fit's stylish (it probably goes without saying that i'm a sucker for TV heads with dogs on them. that's gotta be a given, right?) The stickers on the back of the head are also a nice addition! well done!

Stanley's a real cad, huh? pizza delivery guy with a novelty pizza phone head is genius - making him flirt with milves on the job is just inspired though. i almost wish i'd come up with this guy, as i can totally imagine people around town talking about him. excellent job!!!

he's aptly named for an arcade dude! dig the fit too, especially the black + purple fingerless long sleeve gloves! the decals on the phone are neat too!

I approve of his activities but the lack of a visible mouth threw me off, since i've seen these old toy phones before, ofc.

i was about to ask "how does he drink ocean water without a mouth", before realizing that id been bamboozled into asking the fandom-favourite question of: 'how does he eat without a mouth?', only to then remember that practically no DT characters have visible mouths.

i hope you know that you've strained my weary brain today. cool OC, though.

banana phone's a fun concept! also, i must say your username's quite fitting. crept up on me from my peripheral as I gazed upon the banana phone, like a bizarre centipede of some sort. well, i'd assume so. in hindsight, most centipedes i've encountered have been pretty straightforward with me. i guess i should be grateful for that.

i like mary's fuzzy phone matching the trim of her dress but martin's really got my attention. cool name, neat quirk (he kills people, that takes moxie. hell, even pizzaz too, dare i say?) The dial being a lil clock is a neat touch since it ties his interest into the design. also quite like the cord tail matching the phone head's colour. solid design!

i like his head-type and the attire/pale skin gives a nice bit of contrast!

hard to say how randy'd feel about him, as someone who's only seen his design and 2 lines of dialogue (as someone's personality dictates randy's opinion on them far more than their appearance.) if you feel they'd get on though, you're probably correct! (randy isn't too picky, after all!)

Funnily enough, one of the earliest sketches for crown has a similar bolted plate stuck to a mostly intact phone head. it was even sticking from one of the sides. or corners. i'd have to dig up the notebook, as it's been like 4 years since I came up with the character. Sorry, just made me remember since the earliest sketches had one too.

Copper phone head's a neat idea. Contrasts well with his attire as well (nice and complimentary.) if only his attempts to deter jesse from the za worked out as well, eh?

Alright, that's it for me! thanks for the submissions, these were real creative! good job, everyone!

[charliemwrites]

Honestly I would love to hear your thoughts on all of the concepts you mentioned, but I’m especially intrigued by “reader who came back Wrong” and Simon getting possessed - if you feel like sharing of course <3

I just did the Possessed!Simon one here, so let’s do reader who came back Wrong

-a bit similar set up to SpecGru reader tbh. Reader and Simon have a fraternizing thing going on. They’re definitely more invested than Simon

-simon is a shit, per usual. It’s not enough to hint or just brush off gently. No, he’s gotta be nuclear about it

-reader lasts a couple months of trying (and failing) to pretend they have their feelings under control. Doesn’t help that Simon is sending mixed signals by still wanting to fuck them

-initiate strategy: time away

-reader takes a long-term assignment with a different team, but it is temporary. Theyre home is still with the 141, issues with Simon aside

-what was supposed to be a year becomes 18 months. At month 6 contact with all of the 141 (not just Simon) decreases. At month 9 it cuts off entirely. At month 13, Kate admits that a mission didn’t go according to plan but the 141 is not authorized to intervene

-at month 17 she announces that reader is finally coming back

-reader steps off the plane with bad scars on their face and a uniform with no patches (borrowed)

-they smile at the 141, express how much they missed their boys….

-but there’s just the slightest hesitation when Gaz hugs them. An uncharacteristic twitch in their fingers when Johnny throws an arm around their shoulder. They keep looking to Laswell for direction instead of Price. And they barely seem to notice Simon is there at all

-Simon is the only one to notice. And he keeps noticing.

-their signature has changed. He sees their after-action reports first and he almost doesn’t recognize it. Handwriting is off too

-they smile just a bit too slow at jokes that used to be just their type of comedy

-Johnny suggests a movie they used to love and they make little comments almost like this is the first time they’re seeing it

-Simon catches them eating banana one day. They hate banana.

-they keep looking at him weird. Just… weird. Like someone they know but can’t remember the name of. Except they do know his name - or at least his last one. They keep calling him “Riley” something they never did even during their worst arguments

-price notices too. Their combat is Off. no ones getting injured and yet… they don’t fight like they used to either

-they ask Laswell what happened. She says it’s classified.

-it won’t be for much longer

[reallyromealone]

Title: fitness

Fandom: none applicable

Characters: werewolf - reader -

Fic type: story

Pairings: werewolf x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, female character, female werewolf, wife, heterosexual relationship, buff wife, house husband reader, bunny reader

Notes:finally I get to write fem character x male reader (yes you can request that btw)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Was always in awe at his wife, the tall muscular woman who could birthed their three beautiful children and (name) just was so stupidly in love.

And she was also in love with her sweet loving husband, a werewolf and a rabbit Okami were an interesting couple but she couldn't be happier.

"You wanna work out babe?" She asked (name) who nodded, his adorable apron around his waist, the house husband of their relationship "I wanna get jacked up! Strong like my wife!" He said excitedly as he looked up at the other, the 6'8 woman, just barely hitting her shoulder "alright babe but we're gonna be serious about this" she said to her husband, she knew him well.

"Go papa!" Their eight year old yelled as their ten year old recorded and the five year old looked a little confused but happy to be there, the werewolf woman looking at her rabbit husband who was in gym shorts, a t-shirt and sweatbands "let's do some stretches to warm up your bones baby" she said and (name) nodded, the family at a public track area as (name) didn't feel comfortable being at a gym quite yet. The woman noticed her husband's cotton tail twitching excitedly as they stretched, she liked how serious he was taking it.

Though she couldn't figure out why, her husband was a complete homebody who typically used all his energy playing those dance games with the kids.

The two exercised for an hour before the woman carried her short king husband who was drained from it all, to be fair he did not exercise much at all.

"Papa's sleepy!" The youngest giggled as she held her eldest siblings hand, the family getting into the car and everyone settled in and (name) exhausted from it all.

"How do you do that every day!" (Name) Grumbled to his wife as he plopped on the bed post shower, the woman snorting at him "practice and discipline" the bunny turning to stick his tongue out at her "so why the sudden interest in fitness, you hate exercise unless you get cookies" she teased (name) as the other looked away "I... It's stupid"

"Talk to me" she said worried for her husband and (name) looked down and fidgeted "your brother made comments about how small I am again, I'm not the strongest and you're strong and cool and he didn't see how our relationship made sense and--""my brother is an idiot" she said simply and pulled her husband into her chest "I love you the way you are, you're cute and sweet and caring" she said moving his face to kiss him "I like that you enjoy taking the more feminine roles and don't try and put those on me and still recognize that I'm your wife" he gets excited when she wears suits or pretty dresses, their wedding he kept whispering 'wife' repeatedly as he practically vibrated with joy.

"I like you just as you are, just as you like me how I am" she said lovingly and (name) smiled goofily at her "now don't listen to my idiot brother, he's single and gets no dates and you're married with three kids" she said kissing all over his face and (name) hugged her "now, let's go order dinner, you're in no position to cook after that stunt at the track"

"I ONLY TRIPPED TWICE!"

"and yet you fell like you slipped on a banana"

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

More Nekoma hcs

• One time after an intense match Kuroo makes the mistake of taking the whole team out for hot pot, his treat. Never again. His wallet is in SHAMBLES, especially after the menaces that are Inuoka, Tora, Fukunaga, and Yaku get their hands on the meat menu. At least Kai helped with the bill

• Yaku is secretly super sappy— he gets emotional when reminiscing about the past, he loves romance manga, he tears up at sad movies, etc etc. Kai and Kuroo know about it and love teasing him in private but would never expose his softer side to the rest of the team. He totally bawls at graduation though and no one's suprised (they all knew)

• Shibayama and Inuoka are little gossips, they're always whispering to each other and giggling behind their hands (kinda like Tsuki and Yamaguchi but less bitchy lmao). They're the types to have conversations entirely made of inside jokes so if you hear them in passing it sounds like incoherent gibberish

• Thinking about that panel of Fukunaga holding an entire bunch of bananas, I think he'd bring whole-ass watermelons to school and scoop them out with a spoon for lunch. At first Tora’s appalled by it— as he is with most things Fukunaga does— but eventually he joins in. You’ll often find them hunched over a melon in the courtyard shoveling away like maniacs and spitting seeds into the air. Kenma thinks its the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen

• While we're talking about manga panels look at Inuoka swinging his tie around in the bg. He never ties it right, it drives Shibayama insane so he fixes it for him.

• One thing I like about stage play Kai is that he kinda has a short fuse and is a bit more sarcastic. I think he deserves a good scream in the club room at least once a week (Kuroo and Yaku guard the door so he can do it in peace)

• The third years are kinda like the Date Tech Alums in that they just show up to random practice games and heckle the team from the stands. Yaku's screaming at Lev about his form, Kuroo's teasing Kenma and Tora, Kai made a bingo sheet.

• Fukunaga has the kind of ADHD where he picks up a new hobby every week. Sometimes he's in the club room crocheting, sometimes he's learning yo-yo tricks, folding intricate paper cranes, rubix cubes, cup stacking, card shuffling, juggling, you name it. His favorite will always be cooking though, he uses the team as a test audience for new recipies.

[ifancyharry]

Bad habit (2)

In which YN is Harry’s daughter’s teacher, and she and Harry used to be friends in college; smut; daddy!kink; fluff; angst; dad!harry (read part 1 here)

Word count: 18K+

“Find a place for us to sit, pet, I’ll go order”.

When Harry had told her he wanted to catch up, YN certainly didn’t think he was serious. She doesn’t know why any time it comes to Harry, she thinks he’s joking or making fun of her, how pathetic could she be that even the thought of him wanting to grab a coffee with her makes her think he’s taking the piss out of her?

She doesn’t know why, but she does, and when he had texted her if she was fine to meet him in the late afternoon for a coffee, she had to read the message three times to fully grasp its content. 

She couldn’t believe her eyes, and she still can’t fully grasp the extent of it, when Harry is walking back to the table she’d chosen holding a tray with two coffees in his hands and a small ceramic white plate with a slice of banana bread with two small forks on it.

Oh god. He looks good. He’s so pretty it’s unfair, and YN thinks it’s nice seeing him outside of the school environment. He’s much more relaxed, and she notices he carries himself around with a sort of gleam to him, and many heads turn to look at him when he walks, but, then again, it has always been like this when it came to him.

As he’s walking back with their orders, she can fully grasp how he’s dressed: a pair of distressed jeans hug his legs, tucked away in a pair of black Uggs that YN finds adorable (even more so when she remembers Aidi owns a pair exactly like him’s), and a black hoodie on top, his pink fluorescent beanie tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans. When he catches her looking, she averts her gaze quickly, but she doesn’t miss the smile he throws in her direction.

She tries not to blush too much when he sits in front of her and pushes her coffee towards her direction. He then takes the ceramic plate off the tray and positions it in the center of the table.

She takes a sip of her coffee and her eyes close as she tastes the sweet hot drink, “still ‘member your coffee order”, he chuckles, smirking with his lips around his own mug of coffee.

YN takes a big gulp before setting her mug down, her cold fingers wrapping around it to keep some of the warmth with her. She doesn’t know how he could be so carefree in the way he delivers these types of informations.

To YN, remembering how someone takes their coffee after probably what could be more than five years, is a big deal. Like big. Because she remembers only a few of her friend’s coffee orders. And among these, there’s Harry’s. But that isn’t special on her part, because she used to have a crush on him and she’d always be extra mindful of every little thing he did, and she knows for a fact that wasn’t Harry’s case when it came to her, so, once again, it doesn’t have to mean anything. 

It doesn’t, right? She needs to convince herself many times of this before she goes down a rabbit hole too intricate for her sanity.

“So…” she trails off, uncertain on how to make small talk, “’s been a long time, huh?”

Fuck, when she thought she couldn’t get any more awkward than she already was, she delivers the exact same line he had told her days ago at the school. 

“Yeah” he giggles, and if he noticed that she repeated his own words he doesn’t let her know, “you’re a teacher now.”

Her brows furrow in the center and she throws him a puzzled look, “I am. Don’t try to act too disappointed. You say it like there’s something wrong with it.”

“No, no, ’s not that” he’s quick to say, waving a hand in front of him, “of course there’s nothing wrong with being a teacher, bug, I just… I remember your stories.” 

It’s weird to her, how he would go there not even ten minutes into their coffee date, and she wonders what his point is. The chosen pet name doesn’t go unnoticed, and she feels the sound of her heart beating in her ears, but she knows it doesn’t have to mean anything. Probably too much baby talk with his three years old. 

“Wha’ you used t’write in class. — he clarifies — you were good. Like… we’re talkin’ Stephen King good. I can’t believe yeh’re not writin’ anymore” 

“Who told you I’m not writing anymore?” She teases.

He shrugs, “Figured you aren’t…” 

“I’m not” she admits sadly, shaking her head. “But I wasn’t that good. I was… okay” 

“You were, though. You really were… gotta give yeh self more credit” 

She looks down and plucks a piece of banana bread with her fork, bringing the small bite to her mouth and closing her lips around it.

She doesn’t miss how his eyes fall to her mouth, and she suddenly feels too hot. 

She clears her throat and he averts his gaze quickly, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a small sip of his coffee.

“Let’s talk about you, then” she points her index finger in his direction and grins jokingly, “do you even work? Or are you a stay at home dad?” 

She feels a little silly now, and she wonders if he understood the true meaning behind her question. Of Course she wanted to know what he was doing with his life, but she really, really, really wanted to know if he was married, too. Can you blame her? 

He blows a laugh through his nose and, “Bloody hell, I wish! Stay at home dad — he repeats in a mocking manner —, no… I write stuff”

YN furrows her eyebrows as she chews around a rather dry piece of banana bread “stuff? What do you mean?”

“Whatcha think I mean? Books, ‘f course! Silly thing yeh are” he laughs and YN really wishes the ground would open and swallow her in one big bite.

“Well” she trails off, “I recall you mustn’t be very good. Never seen your name in a book shop” she raises her brows in a challenging manner and her lips open in a grin across her face.

She likes teasing Harry because he gets all flustered and antsy, and for a moment it makes her feel in control. For a brief moment, though, because he’s quick to respond with a wit remark.

“‘Nough o’that! Yeh haven’t seen my name ‘cos I write under a different one…” 

“I don’t believe you” she says, shaking her head.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and smiles a sly smile at her, “have you ever read ‘The Argonauts’?”

“‘f course I have” she scoffs, “it’s like the most popular book of the last… shut up! Shut up! No, no way!” 

“Don’ act so surprised, pet! Yeh’re gonna shatter my ego” he says, showing one of his dimples in a sideway smile. YN has to refrain herself from poking her index finger into it.

“Uhm, sorry… it’s just… wasn’t expecting it” 

Harry watches as she lowers her head and brings the mug of coffee to her lips, taking a small sip. Her cheeks are pink and Harry wonders if it’s from the warmth of the drink or because of him, he likes to think it’s the latter, but he knows it’s probably not. YN has always been one hard to read, and as the time passes, he observes that hasn’t changed. She’s slightly more open now, at least she engages in a conversation, whereas before, she always seemed too busy to talk to him. 

“You could do it too if only you wanted” he shrugs.

He’s aware the atmosphere between them suddenly changes, but he doesn’t regret his words. He remembers how passionate she was about writing, and he remembers how good she was too, much better than him, and it pains him to think she’s spent years not knowing it.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” She snaps, “you don’t know me like that anymore”

“Think I never did, bug” he says, and YN doesn’t miss the embittered grimace that spreads across his features.

“Aidi is a cute kid” YN says after a while, tracing the handle of her mug with her fingertip. She notices he hasn’t eaten the cake, and she pushes the plate closer to him.

“She is” he smiles happily, picking up the other fork and dipping in the banana bread, “love her so much. Dunno what I’d do without her”

YN reciprocates his smile, “she’s very polite. You and her mum did a good job”.

She bites her bottom lip and she feels mortified. What possessed her to say that, she doesn’t know, and if Harry wasn’t aware of her crush up to that point, he must have definitely understood now that she manipulated the entire conversation on finding out if he has a partner.

Harry looks in her eyes with a glint in them, and he smiles amused, “are yeh askin’ me if I’m single?”

“What! No! You obviously aren’t, I’m not…”

He interrupts her with a loud laugh and “i’m just teasin’, love. Her mum isn’t in the picture. She bailed when Aidi wasn’t even one. Claimed it was too much, she was too much.”

“Oh, Harry. I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything” she smiles sadly, and she stretches a hand across the table to meet his, which she squeezes lightly.

“’s okay. I don’ blame her. A child ’s a big responsibility” he shrugs, and when YN goes to remove her hand, he only squeezes it tighter, “but she definitely didn’t raise her”

YN nods and throws him a brief smile, the skin of her hand burning under his touch. Harry doesn’t remove his hand until the very last moment they have to leave, and she feels both hot and cold in his presence.

She had forgotten what it was like, being in his presence, and if her feelings were under control before, she feels them inside her like a raging river now, pushing to be let out. 

It’s weird, to her, because it’s both premature and both too late, now, and despite the shift in their dynamic, and despite feeling like the universe might have given her a second chance, she isn’t brave enough. She’d never speak first. It’s a tale as old as times, and it’s been like that since she was little, and perhaps that’s why her relationships with the other sex stayed circumscribed to awkward hookups with strangers she’d met at bars, sometimes even single parents, but that was very, very awkward after (and it happened only one time, so it doesn’t even count!)

“‘m really happy we did this” he smiles. They’re both walking out of the coffee shop now, and he holds the door open for her, and YN really tries not to stumble on her feet. Now, that would be very awkward. 

Maybe, it’s a cruel joke of the universe, or she’s just as clumsy as a little kid, because as soon as she steps outside, she turns around to wait for him, and in doing that, her shoe stamps on the untied lace of the other shoe, and she feels her feet tangled together when she turns.

She prepares herself from the embarrassing imminent fall, but instead she is met with a pair of big arms circling around her waist and holding her in place.

Her nose is pressed against Harry’s chest and she tries to be very subtle in the way she takes a small sniff of his scent, smelling perhaps his fabric softener mixed with a woodsy, tobacco scent, that she figures could be his cologne.

“Woah, easy there, bug” firm, strong, hands take a hold of her bicep and she regains the balance on her feet, her eyes still avoiding his.

“Strong reflexes you have there” she mumbles, and she feels so embarrassed she might throw up all over her sweater.

“Comes in handy with a three year old” he chuckles, his fingers still gripping the fabric of her sweater.

“There’s the little bugger” he says, and before YN can say anything, he crunches down on the ground and starts untying her shoe laces.

He ties them back in their place, and YN smiles despite the embarrassment when she notices he still uses the method of the two bunny ears, and she remembers Aidi telling her that her daddy is teaching her how to tie her own shoes (“because I’m a big girl now, Miss YN”).

“There ya go” he pats behind her knee and smiles slyly at her when he’s back at eye level.

“Thank you” she blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You know…” he trails off, and YN finds herself leaning closer, almost too scared that someone else would hear him and that his words weren’t only for her to hear, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

Her mouth twitches and she tries not to feel too disappointed, feeling at a loss for words.

She bites down on her bottom lip and she crosses her hands against her chest to shield herself from the sudden wave of cold that possessed her. She doesn’t know what to say so she chooses to not say anything, she just watches as he takes his car keys out of his pocket.

She has to bite down her tongue to refrain herself from asking about the bunny. Because there definitely is a keychain in the shape of a very cute cream colored bunny hanging from his keys, and she isn’t delusional now. She’s sure it’s a bunny. 

She smiles at him when he catches her staring at his fingers wrapped against the keys, and he reciprocates the smile. Unspoken words linger between them, a question about a bunny and an honest conversation about feelings, and it goes way back, to a conversation they both aren’t ready to have.

“See yeh tomorrow?” He asks, to which YN nods, “yes.”

They part after a brief hug and a promise of doing this date thing again, and YN tries not to smile too much on the tube on her way home to not scare the other passengers. 

And to think he said he didn’t know her. YN thinks he may know her better than anyone else.

…

It’s a little later in the month now, and despite the chilly weather, YN can’t wait to get to school.

Every year, the teachers organize a small, mid day, trip to the zoo, something easy but that the kids love very much, and parents are welcomed to come too, if they don’t feel safe enough to leave their kids with just the teachers. YN is ecstatic when she walks inside the classroom and a bunch of kids are already inside with Miss Enya, loud chatter fills the room, and she can feel the excitement lingering in the air.

It’s endearing, really, how something as simple as a trip to the zoo could make a kid so happy and giddy, and she just loves the atmosphere in general. She also really loves animals, and this zoo is more of a farm, really, so she knows the animals are being taken care of rather well.

Harry walks in at around 8, Aidi perched up on his lap, swinging her little legs happily.

She smiles at him a warm smile, and once he settles the little girl down, he makes his way quickly towards her.

“Don’ think we’ve ever been this early” he laughs, knuckling at his eyes tiredly. He looks extremely soft, and YN takes in his appearance. He’s wearing a pair of running shorts, with a black sweatshirt on top, the lace tied at the neck, his feet tucked in a pair of white vans with white socks ending at his low calves. YN thinks she’s never seen him dressed as casual as he is now. His hair looks soft and disheveled, as if he’d just washed it a couple of hours before, and YN has to refrain her hand from brushing away a stray curl that’s fallen on his forehead.

“They love the zoo” she simply says, shrugging.

He nods as he looks around and YN wonders if he, too, can feel the excitement that’s lingering in the air, “do yeh need help with somethin’?”

“Can you help me pack the snacks? I’m a little behind” she gestures towards the apples and chocolate bars she had bought earlier in the morning. 

“‘f course” he smiles, rising the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows and positioning himself next to her. He picks a small, clear, plastic bag and takes first an apple and then the milk chocolate bar, putting them both in the small bag along with a napkin, before twisting the ends of the bag and tying it in a knot.

“No bunnies today?” He asks after a while, and YN really has to refrain herself from asking him to repeat himself.

She looks at him with her brows furrowed and he points to her top, a black hoodie similar to his in style, “no bunnies” he repeats, as if it was the most normal thing ever.

At this point, YN really can’t understand whether he’s teasing her or flirting with her. 

She tsks her tongue against her palate and once she gains his attention, she brings two hands to the neck of her hoodie, tugging it down and revealing the gold necklace tucked away in the warmth of her shirt. 

Harry raises one hand and brushes his fingers against her collarbone to pick up the necklace, not daring to go under her hoodie, and when the pendant is out and swaying against her chest, he picks it up in his hand. It’s still warm, and he feels a twitch in his belly at the thought of where it was tucked away between her breasts. 

“See, — he smirks, raising his gaze from the bunny to her eyes — I knew it was a necklace”

He throws the pendant another amused glance, and then he picks the fabric of her hoodie between his thumb and index finger at the neck, letting the necklace fall back to its previous hidden place, and then he turns back to packing the snacks, as if what he just did didn’t ruin YN completely. She feels her chest heaving, and she’s suddenly hyper aware of the necklace against her skin, as if it caught fire with his touch, and she feels the bunny fall hidden between her bra, warm from his hands. She’s completely ruined. And she thinks her panties are too.

…

 “Daddy! Daddy! Snakes!!! I wanna see the snakes!” 

Aidi comes running towards them when they pass the reptile area and she probably sees a drawing of a snake on one of the signs, tugging Harry’s hand to gain his attention. 

“Bug, yeh know daddy doesn’t like snakes” he whispers, crunching down to her level, and YN grins teasingly because despite his effort of talking in a small voice, his daughter betrays him saying “daddy yeh don’ have t’be afraid, there’s the glass to protect yeh!”

YN chuckles loudly when she hears that, and Aidi looks up at her teacher with the most father-like grin YN had ever seen, “daddy is scared of snakes”.

“Am not!” He blushes, rising up from his crunched position, “YN, don’t laugh. I am not”

YN only laughs louder, throwing her head backwards and placing one hand against her tummy.

Aidi joins her, giggling loudly at her daddy’s pouting lips.

“I can go with you” YN proposes, looking down at Aidi. 

After the first tour of the zoo, the two teachers agreed with the parents to split up, to give every kid the opportunity of seeing what they wanted to see most, according to meet up at 1pm for lunch. 

Harry had asked YN if she wanted to tag along with them, and Aidi had jumped in her place when she said yes, so that’s how they got here, in front of the reptile area.

“Yes!” She jumps excitedly, still holding her daddy’s hand, “thank you miss YN”

“Yeh don’t have to thank me, love. C’mon!” She stretches a hand for her to take, which Aidi does duteously, and together they walk inside the reptile house.

Once they’re inside, Aidi asks to be picked up to see the snakes better, and YN watches enamored as the little girl waves at the snakes resting inside the vivarium.

It’s nice to see how gentle Aidi is, because in a way, she’s an extension of Harry, and seeing how good he did with her, warms YN’s insides until she feels her limbs turn to jelly.

And to think he raised her alone! He did such a good job, she doesn’t know how to tell him again without sounding weird. It’s a strange feeling, watching the child of someone you once were in love with. Because at this point there’s no use in denying it. She was in love with Harry, the biggest crush she’d ever had for someone, never developed and never told, which is probably the most pathetic thing YN can think about. 

“Were you friends with my daddy?” Aidi asks all of a sudden, still perched against her hip. 

“Yes, I still am his friend” 

The little kid nods and points to one of the snakes that’s resting on a tree branch, “what’s his name?”

YN couldn’t possibly know his name, so she hums and pouts her lips jokingly, “I don’t think he has a name, bug.”

Aidi frowns at her words and YN is quick to say: “why don’t we name him?”

The toddler opens her mouth in a toothless grin and she sways her little legs in YN’s hold, excitedly. 

“I wanna call him Mr Snuggles”

YN tries to suppress her laugh because she doesn’t understand how a snake could be associated with snuggles, of all things, but she knows this is a very serious matter in the perception of a three year old, so she assumes a serious face and gives her a firm nod of the head, “that’s a perfect name for him”

Aidi smiles brightly at that, happy to have the approval of her — favorite, Harry had confessed — teacher.

…

Back on the bus, YN is checking that every kid is strapped in as she walks through the bus’s hallway, smiling at every kid that she sees (most of them sleeping) and when she reaches Harry’s familiar face illuminated by the small light shining on his seat she smiles brightly at him.

When she notices the empty seat next to him she frowns and she goes to ask him where Aidi is, but he’s quick to say: “wanted t’sit in the back, like a big girl, she said” 

YN giggles at that and stretches her neck to look at the back of the bus, where she sees a group of toddlers sitting in the last row, she spots a sleeping Aidi between them, with her face propped against the big window.  

When the bus takes a big pothole, she has to hold on tight to the seat next to him to prevent her from falling, and when Harry notices that, he tugs on her hoodie with his hand to gesture her to sit next to him.

It’s almost six now, the sun has set and the road is dark, as is the bus, the led blue light of the hallway and every now and then the small one on top of the seats of still awake parents, the only sources of illumination. 

She plops down in the seat next to him, crossing her legs in front of her. 

He shifts in his seat so that he’s propped with his back against the window and his face is facing her. She does the same, watching him carefully. 

He stretches one leg towards her on the ground and he bends the other at the knee against the back of the seat. This way, the skin of his knee brushes against her thigh, covered in a pair of leggings, but she might as well be naked with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s ready to devour her, and she tries to think if he’s ever watched her in that way. She doesn’t know, because she never really paid attention, assuming right away he’d never even spare a glance in her direction. 

Was she wrong…

YN closes her eyes and she abandons her head against the headrest, shifting a little on her bum so she could get more comfortable, the long day catching up to her. 

After a while, she feels Harry shift in his seat again, but she is too tired to open her eyes and check what he’s doing.

She feels the light finger tip of his fingers brush against her temple, brushing the hair away from her face, then he caresses the skin of her cheek softly, the contrast of his cold rings against her warm skin a solace for her skin, and he is so delicate in his movements YN feels like a rare flower he’s scared of plucking.

When he reaches her lips, she doesn’t know if she’s dreaming, and she feels his thumb brush against her mouth, the skin of his thumb tender and warm. She feels a hand sneak against the side of her neck, cradling her jaw and pushing her delicately against him. 

She feels herself fall against his chest, between his legs, and she snuggles unconsciously against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, her fingers reaching up to grab a hold of the fabric.

Her breathing regulates with every stroke of his gentle hand against her hair, and she feels herself fall, deeper and deeper in that rabbit hole she doesn’t see the end of.

…

YN stares at the screen of her phone, double checking the address Harry had written before ringing the door bell. 

It’s a warm Sunday of November, and YN is standing outside Harry’s house, a plastic pink bag tucked between her fingers as she chews nervously on her bottom lip. 

When Harry had told her, at the beginning of the week, that Aidi’s birthday was coming up and she’d begged him to invite her to the small gathering Harry was throwing her, YN certainly didn’t have it in her to decline.

It warmed her heart that Aidi liked her so much that she wanted her at her birthday party. These things are weird, and kids always watch on their teachers with an eye on, wary of the power dynamic. But perhaps that wasn’t Aidi’s case. 

YN can already hear the loud screeching voices of small kids playing, and when Harry opens the door, she greets him with a brief hug, which he reciprocates kindly.

Weeks have passed from the zoo trip, and they didn’t speak about what happened on the bus, because truly, what was there to even speak about? 

Harry is kind, and gentle, and probably just didn’t want her neck to hurt, his fatherly instincts kicking in providently. It’s as simple as that. 

“Hi” he says, “come in”.

YN walks inside, light on her feet as she follows him. He’s wearing a big knitted brown sweater, the neckline and the hem of the sleeves detailed in green, paired with a pair of green tailored pants that hug his thighs just right, and YN can see the muscles of his legs stretch as he walks. 

“Aidi’s present” she holds the pink plastic bag between them, and Harry throws her a furrowed look, “yeh didn’t hav’to”

YN swats playfully at his arm and rolls her eyes, “‘f course I had to!”

He grins at her and then eyes her carefully, gesturing towards her coat when he sees she’s about to take it off “yeh can put that in m’room upstairs. Don’ wan’ t’get it mixed up with t’others. ’s t’second door on the left” 

YN nods her head and gulps under his gaze, removing her coat and holding it tight against her chest.

Maybe wearing the most revealing dress she owns wasn’t a good idea. She’s still his child’s teacher, for god’s sake!

Well, she can’t really go back now, can she?

The dress isn’t even that revealing, it’s just flattering, with a square neckline that shows a little bit of her chest, long sleeves and that ends just about mid thigh. Opposed to the oversized jeans and big sweaters she wears everyday at school, it’s a big change. 

She turns around and walks towards the stairs, following his instructions.

She opens the door of his room and walks in, leaving her coat on his bed, and she tries not to think too much about how she’s leaving her coat on his bed. The room is nice, it reminds her of Harry, colorful and lively. The sheets are white but the bed is a nice cream color, above the headrest there are three abstract paintings that remind her of Jackson Pollock’s. She walks closer to his bed side and she smiles when she sees a framed picture of him and Aidi. He’s smiling brightly as he holds her against his hip, both dressed head to toe in Disney merch, Aidi showing off the most precious little Mickey Mouse ears on top of her head, Harry sporting a matching pair, and she feels herself fluster at the sight. 

They are both so precious, she can’t believe Aidi’s mum didn’t want to be a part of their life. Maybe she feels a little jealous, because in her mind, she truly did have it all and threw it away; she’s aware it’s unfair, thinking about others this way, and she’d never even met this lady! What if she was nice? 

She doesn’t know, she just knows it wasn’t fair, leaving like that, and she wonders if Harry still feels the pain of it or if it’s an entirely healed wound.

She walks out of his bedroom and shuts the door behind her, looking attentively at the pictures on the walls and paintings he decided to have framed. YN believes you can tell a lot by someone’s house, and the chosen decor that comes with it, and she wonders what could be behind the closed doors she passes on her way from Harry’s bedroom to the staircase.

Perhaps he has a room full of books where he spends his Sunday afternoons, or maybe a playroom for his daughter… one must definitely be a spare bathroom, the other…

“Miss YN?” She hears a small voice coming from behind her, and she turns her body quickly in its direction.

Aidi is looking at her with a puzzled expression, soon to be replaced by an excited one when she starts running towards her, hugging her leg tightly.

“Miss YN!” She exclaims, “why are you here? Daddy didn’t tell me”

YN furrows her brows at her and crunches down on the ground, hugging the little toddler.

She chooses not to linger on her words, she’s little, maybe she forgot she had invited her? Maybe Harry simply didn’t tell her? But YN remembers clearly how Harry had told her Aidi had begged him to invite her. Was he… lying? But why would he?

“I’m here because a little birdie told me it’s a special someone’s birthday?” 

“It’s mine! It’s mine!” She giggles, jumping up and down in her place.

YN picks her up and tickles her belly playfully, “mmmh, is it?”

“Yes!” She giggles again, “stop, stop, tickles” the hallway rumbles with the sound of their laughters, and YN wonders if this is what it would be like to have a family of her own… Hallways always filled with laughter and colorful bedrooms and rooms full of books…

“Do yeh want to see my room?” She grins, and YN nods at her.

She looks adorable in her checkered baby blue dress, her hair are tied out of her face with a clipped white bow, and YN feels her chest warm at the thought of Harry doing her hair, because she definitely knows it’s him now.

YN follows the toddler to her room, the door in front of Harry’s, and she opens her mouth in exasperated surprise once she sees it.

The walls are painted a pale pink, small elephants stickers plastered across the walls, and she can see on the ceiling the faint stickers of luminescent glow in the dark lights shaped as stars, a big crescent moon just above her bed.

She imagines what her room must look like at night, when it’s time to go to bed and Harry perhaps reads her a bed time story before tucking her in.

“Woah” she exasperates, “it’s beautiful!”

“I know” she giggles childishly, running to pick up a few of her dolls from the ground and putting them on the bed, “daddy did it”.

“You have a great daddy” YN lets out, and she blushes at her own words. It’s not like Aidi understands to an extent what she really had meant, but still, letting out those feelings makes her feel antsy.

“He is the best” she nods seriously, picking up from the bed another doll.

“Miss YN, do you want to play dollies with me?” She asks politely, showing her the two chosen dolls.

“I think we should go downstairs, bug! It’s your party!” 

“Uh! You’re right” she agrees firmly, and YN tries to suppress her laugh at her serious pout.

“We’ll play later, yeah?” 

Aidi nods once again and takes YN’s outstretched hand in both hers, and they both walk slowly out of the room. 

“You’ll stay for dinner?” She asks, hopeful.

“‘f course I am! ’s your birthday!” To which Aidi giggles loudly.

Laughter filling the hallways once again.

…

“Sorry I left you alone all day, hope yeh weren’t too bored”

It’s a little later in the day now, and YN is sipping on her drink absentmindedly while observing the beauty of Harry’s garden. The grass is well cut, English style, into a kind of hallway that serves as a driveway, and many flowers are planted adorning it. 

She’s standing on the patio, where everyone had sang ‘happy birthday’ to Aidi not more than an hour ago. 

Some of the guests have already left, leaving only a couple of Aidi’s close girl friends and their respective parents. The sun is still shining, but it has lost its warmth, and the air is turning colder with every minute that passes.

The day had gone by quickly, Harry had rented an inflatable castle that was set up in the small garden that surrounded the house, where the kids had played until exhaustion.

Then, after a brief lunch (cooked diligently by Anne — Harry’s mother, YN had found out), Aidi had opened her presents, sitting on the couch and wearing the most precious tiara YN had ever seen — she made sure to tell her that.

Harry had been kind of busy all day, mostly checking that the kids didn’t hurt themselves while playing in the garden, making sure everyone was well feed and that no one’d leave with an empty belly.

After Aidi had opened her presents, he took care of tidying up the living room, tossing the pieces of wrapping paper she had discarded all over when opening her presents.

YN had stayed behind, talking every now and then with a couple of parents from the school that would come up to greet her, and she didn’t miss how some of them had eyed her suspiciously, and she wonders whether they thought something was going on between Harry and her. 

She also didn’t miss how some of the mums would act around Harry, flirting blatantly with him, and she honestly can’t blame them. Harry is attractive, and above everything else he’s polite, kind and intelligent. Not to mention how much he adores his daughter.

it’s endearing how he takes his time to hear every single little thing she says, and he appears to engage in these conversations as well! He’s not only pretending to listen, he truly is interested in the way she sees the world and in the way she tells about it, and to YN, that is one of the most valuable traits of his character.

He’s standing in front of her now, towering above her and eyeing her carefully.

She shakes her head at his previous remark and brings a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, “I had a lot of fun”, she says, squinting one of her eyes.

He moves a little on the right to cover the sun and she lowers her hand thankfully, “i loved the bouncy castle, always wanted one” she chuckles.

“Yeah?” He says, smirking, his dimples appearing proudly on his cheeks, “maybe I’ll rent one for your birthday… if yeh behave, that is”

YN feels herself fluster, and she gulps, his words replaying vividly in her mind. 

If you behave.

He must definitely know the effect he has on her, because his eyes gleam, bright, and he looks down at her grinning slyly. 

She scoffs when she recovers control of her own mind, “I’m too old for that!”

“I’d rent one for grown ups, silly” he remarks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

YN wasn’t even aware they made bouncy castles for grown ups, and now she kind of wants one for her birthday. She won’t let him know, though.

“By the way…” she trails off, because now she’s the one that wants to tease, “Aidi told me she didn’t know I was coming”

“She did?” And he raises his eyebrows in surprise like he was caught in a lie, only for a brief moment, though, because he’s quick to add, “Told her many times lying ’s bad.”

“I feel like you’re the liar” she mocks, swatting at his arm playfully. 

“YN” he says seriously, “are yeh sayin’ you believe a four years old over me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m sayin’” she nods.

He pouts his lips jokingly and YN really, really, has to refrain herself from kissing his pout away. 

Her gaze lingers a bit too much on his pouted, strawberry lips and she averts her eyes quickly when his tongue peaks out to wet them. 

“You’re silly” he chuckles, and he raises one hand to pinch her tummy through the fabric of her dress. The movement makes goosebumps prickle on her skin and YN crosses her arms against her chest to warm up.

“Are you cold?” He asks quickly, and she doesn’t even have time to say no that he’s already scurrying inside, walking through the glass door.

YN follows him with her gaze, and she watches through the glass as he picks up a throw blanket from the couch, his brows furrowed in concentration and his tongue peaking up from between his lips as he bends down to pick the blanket up. 

She turns her head quickly when she sees him make his was back to her, and once he reassumes his previous position in front of her, he opens the blanket to show it to her.

He unfolds it between them and then circles her shoulders with the blanket, wrapping it then across her front and tucking the hem under the other side.

“There yeh go” he smiles snugly. 

The blanket is soft and warm, and it hugs her body mellowly, and YN is aware it’s weird, but she suddenly feels protected under the shield of that soft fuzzy blanket, and perhaps not only from the cold…

“Thank you” she whispers softly, snuggling more in the blanket.

He looks at her every movement, his eyes are a deep shade of green, and she wonders if he’s ever looked at her like this before or if it’s the first time. She remembers he used to have these same eyes when he was a little bit drunk and the night was slowly coming to an end, or when he used to read one of her poems for class and he would look at the piece of paper as if he wanted to set it on fire with his gaze.

“Daddy!” They both jump at Aidi’s voice, and Harry turns his head quickly in her direction, welcoming her with a bright smile.

YN lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in and she, too, turns to look at the little girl. 

“Is miss YN staying for dinner?” She asks, stretching her arms upwards, demanding to be picked up.

Harry shifts her on one hip and looks towards YN warily, “I don’t know, bug…”

“‘f course I am!” YN is quick to say, raising her hand to tickle at Aidi’s belly lightly, “told you already, haven’t I?”

The little girl smiles happily, snuggling closer to her daddy and YN doesn’t miss the bright smile Harry shows her, which she mirrors instantly.

…

“Do you have anyone you need?” YN coos, referring to the stuffed dollies that Aidi required to be tucked in next to her as well.

“Think so…” she whispers sleepily, crowing her neck to check if she had everyone.

It’s bed time, now, and Aidi had specifically demanded that YN had to be the one to tuck her in, to which YN had agreed without a doubt.

YN is about to get up from the bed when Aidi says “no! Wait! Cinnabun isn’t here”

YN furrows her brows, and throws a pointed look towards Harry, that is still propped against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. He has an alerted look on his face, and YN tries to make eye contact with him, but he averts her gaze quickly.

“Have yeh checked under the bed, pet?” He says, walking inside her room.

He stops in front of the bed, where YN is sat, and he places a ring-clad hand on the bed, right next to her thigh, crunching down on his knees to check under the bed.

“There she is! Little bugger! What were yeh doin’ under the bed?” He addresses the stuffed animal directly, “wanted to avoid bed time, huh?”

He pats away a little bit of dust off, and then places the bunny right next to his daughter, that holds it tight against her chest with the crook of her small arm.

YN is watching his every step as he moves, and she’s very well aware that Cinnabun is, in fact, a stuffed, pale pink bunny, dressed as a ballerina, and that resembles very much one of the bunnies that YN had printed on one of her old shirts she used to wear in college and that she eventually lost in the various times she moved.

When are coincidences no longer considered coincidences?

…

When Aidi has peacefully fallen asleep, Harry shuts the door quietly behind them and he makes his way down the stairs, YN trailing behind him, and she stays light on her feet, almost too scared she’d scare him.

Her mind is thinking a thousand thoughts all at once, and she isn’t really sure what to do. Does she address the bunny? Does she keep quiet? Is she going to pretend nothing happened? 

She doesn’t really know how to keep going, actually, and she isn’t sure how she’s supposed to engage in a conversation with him, when her own mind isn’t even connected to her mouth.

“Sorry she made you stay for dinner” he says once they reach the end of the stairs.

She wants to ask him if he’s sorry she stayed for dinner, but how can she?

“What? No! I’m happy I stayed” she shrugs, tucking her hands in the pocket of the hoodie he had lent her before dinner.

“Okay” he nods.

Something’s changed, YN can feel it in the way he’s averting her eyes, and she suddenly feels like she should leave. 

“Maybe I should go? It’s getting late…” 

“No!” He blurts quickly, “no — he repeats calmly — stay a little longer.” And it really sounds like a plea. 

And she doesn’t find it in her to go. It’s as simple as that. Sometimes all it takes is four small words.

So, she nods her head, and she gulps when she sees him visibly relax, some of the tension in his shoulders dissipating, and she wonders what the hell is going on.

Is it because of the bunny? She knows it sounds silly, bunnies aren’t special, most especially stuffed bunnies, and she’s aware they’re very popular with kids, but it’s the same bunny. Thesame. And hadn’t he not mentioned remembering it, she wouldn’t have thought any more than what it was; a simple bunny. But nothing was simple when it came to Harry. And nothing was simple when it came to YN. 

“Do yeh want some wine? I think I have some red in the cabinet…” he asks, pushing a stray curl out of his forehead with his fingers.

She hums, “yes. Yes, okay”

He nods and makes his way to the kitchen, and YN debates for a moment if she should follow him.

When he turns his head briefly to check where she is, she realizes he wants her to follow, and she does, catching up quickly with him.

…

A couple of drinks later, the tension has evaporated completely, and both Harry and YN are relaxed in each other’s presence, probably like they haven’t been in a long time.

They’re both sitting outside facing each other, on the wooden chairs in the patio, because Harry had claimed he was getting too hot inside. YN had chuckled loudly and told him it was probably the wine, but, still, he dragged her outside, picking up the throw blanket when walking on the way out.

YN has her legs crossed at the ankle and her feet propped on his upper thigh (she had originally put them on the chair, but he had moved them immediately after, claiming it was more comfortable the other way), and Harry the same, so the blanket could cover the both of them equally.

Harry is stroking the skin of her shin as he talks, because he is a really talkative drunk and a touchy feely drunk probably even more so. YN doesn’t know if he realizes what he’s doing, and most especially, what he’s doing to her, because with every stroke of his fingers against her naked skin, goosebumps pebble in its wake.

She takes a sip of her wine, and she bats her eyelashes tiredly, and she doesn’t know if it’s the wine or his velvety voice, but she feels herself almost drift off to sleep. Almost.

If it wasn’t for one thing Harry says that catches her attention and perks her up against the backseat of her chair. 

He was reminiscing on their college years, and he was rumbling, in YN’s opinion, and she was too tipsy and too besotted with the way he was caressing her skin to understand fully what he was saying.

Until he mentioned how he always used to ask her for a spare pen, and YN felt her breath catch in her throat, because there’s no way he remembers that.

“Yeh had so many! One time you gave me a pink one… I think you hand’t realized, and I really didn’t have it in me heart to tell yah, so I had like… five pages of pink notes!” He snorts, “they were so pretty, though” he says dreamily.

“You could have told me!” She chimes in, pinching the skin of his thigh covered under the blanket.

“Pff” he scoffs, “‘f course I couldn’t… I had like, the biggest crush on you. Like… the biggest” he stresses.

YN’s eyes widens when she hears him, and she lowers her glass on the ground, suddenly feeling very sober. 

“I was so in love wit’you! M’friends always used t’make fun o’me fo’it.” He continues, and he shakes his head and laughs a soft laugh through his nose, his green eyes twinkling like a lighthouse in the dark night, as if behind his gaze the memory of his college years is running fast as a joke YN didn’t hear quite well enough to participate in.

“What?” YN says, and she tries to hide the surprise in her voice. Her heart is beating fast in her chest and his words are replaying in her head. Isn’t he a little too old to play games? 

“Harry… what are you even… what are you talking about?” 

“Don’t tell me yeh didn’t know?” He raises his brows in surprise, and he balances his empty glass on the armrest of his chair, the clear wine stained glass shining in the night. “You were t’prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, o’course I liked yeh” he chuckles.

She feels her heart skip a beat as her eyes are fixated on an undefined point in front of her; prettiest girl he’s ever seen? That couldn’t possibly be true. 

Yn remembers how she was in college: shy, never spoke her mind, every once in a while — when people paid attention — she would crack a joke, that would come out strangled and rushed, and she remembers vividly how often her friends wouldn’t get the joke, and she’d have to explain it, therefore the joke losing all its funniness, and she would try her hardest not to avert her gaze from their eyes, and she remembers clearly in her mind how it felt, what was it like having all those eyes looking at her, especially a pair of green ones that used to always make her nervous — they still do, if she’s honest.

Once again, she tries to think about the past, and if there ever was a time when Harry had looked at her like more of the awkward girl that sat next to him in class, but she can’t find any. And at this point, after months of knowing — reknowing — Harry, shouldn’t she be able to tell when he’s telling the truth? Because he is, he looks like he is. And she wishes he is. But the thought carries with it a bittersweet taste, the awareness of being too late lingering on her head like Damocle’s sword.

“No… no, you were with Natalia, I remember you dating Natalia” YN says nodding her head, trying to somehow convince herself Harry is still going on with this joke she isn’t aware of. 

She’s positive she would’ve noticed if Harry liked her. 

But… would she, though? 

Because she remembers all those nights she spent looking at him, and averting her gaze when he’d catch her, and she vaguely remembers how sometimes she’d feel his lips linger a second too long on her cheek when he’d greet her goodbye. 

“No! — he says, furrowing his brows, — that was after. After I realized I had no chances with you. Natalia was kind o’… there. Yeh obviously didn’t like m���back… everyone knew. Y’were always in y’own world… I never really knew how to talk to you…” he says, and YN feels like she might throw up.

She feels hot and cold at the same time, and she wants to rip off the blanket from her legs, but Harry still hasn’t stopped touching her, and she feels lightheaded. 

She feels exposed, and she definitely feels stupid, and images of a very college-y Harry run fast before her eyes, as if her brain is presenting the proofs of what he’s saying.

She sees him laugh at her joke (squinted eyes and dimples on display too!) when she thought no one had heard her, she sees him looking directly at her that one time he was playing a Beatles song on the guitar, she sees him brush his knee against her thigh willingly, and asking for her pens, and complimenting her on her writing and on her stories, and she sees him looking with piercing eyes at her lips that one time she had to read her short story out loud.

She sees him now, looking at her with half lidded eyes, his hair clipped back with one of Aidi’s pink, flower shaped clips, and she feels sick. She feels sick and at the same time she wants to kiss him. She wants to lean in and brush her lips on his, taste the wine on his tongue, explore his mouth…

“Don’t worry, — he says after a while, when he realizes YN hasn’t said anything, waving a hand in front of them — I got over it after a while.”

“No… I… I didn’t know. You never — you never said anything, I…” at this point, she’s rumbling, but she really doesn’t know what to say. It’s sad, really, how much time she lost thinking no one liked her. Harry liked her. He liked her! Even if she was shy! Even if she was awkward! She can’t seem to wrap her head around it, somehow the thought of him liking her back, overwhelmed her. How sad could she really be?

“Oh! Don’t go all embarrassed on me now!” He giggles, but they both are aware that there’s no humor in his laugh, “It’s in the past now… told yeh I got over it.” He repeats.

“Yeah, yeah — she laughs nervously, shifting uncomfortably on the chair — I just wish I knew.” 

“Yeah… me too. Me too.” He nods, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from going further. He had already ruined the night enough. He didn’t have to confess how he hadn’t gotten over her, not even a bit.

…

Harry looks at his reflection in the mirror and he sighs. He shouldn’t go. He knows he shouldn’t go. He knew it as soon as he read YN’s text, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. After what he told YN, drunk on wine and untold words, he should’ve stayed low. And believe me, he wanted to. He even debated whether he should enroll Aidi in another kindergarten. It was that serious. But then… he saw YN. He saw her in school, wearing a big long sleeve t-shirt with the pink outline of a bunny on it, that almost swallowed her, and she looked fine, she smiled brightly at them once they came in, and he thought maybe she didn’t remember. Maybe she was so drunk she forgot how he told her about how much he loved her back in a time where everything seemed so simple yet it never truly was. That’s why, when he’d gotten the text, he only debated for a brief moment before answering.

“I look hot” he nods, trying to convince himself. He’s always been confident in himself, but… there’s something about getting rejected by the very first girl you liked seriously and having to see her after you professed your love for her.

“What was that, honey?” His mum, Anne, calls out from the bedroom, and Harry cusses under his breath. Great.

“Nothing, mum” he stresses, passing a hand through his hair to adjust them.

“You ready?” Anne asks once he enters the bedroom, and she walks up to him to tug at his tie a bit, straightening it.

“Yes” he nods, thanking her for the tie. “Aidi is okay?” He asks, picking up his phone from the nightstand and removing it from the charging cable. 

“Yes, already tucked in bed” Anne smiles, “so… this thing you’re going to…” she trails off, leaving the phrase unfinished.

“It’s for charity, mum. Aidi’s school is hosting it. I think all parents are going…”

“And are you going with someone… someone special, perhaps?” She teases, walking to his closet and putting away the fresh clothes she had just washed for him. 

“Mum! No!” He exclaims, whining, “you know I have no time for a relationship.” 

“I know, my love, but… it’s been four years now. Don’t you think it’s time to get back out there?” 

“I don’t need to, mum. Really. Things are fine as they are” he shrugs. “I have to go now, ’s gettin’ late”

“Okay, just lookin’ out for yeh baby” she says softly, raising one hand to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. 

“I know, mum. I’m gonna say bye to Aidi, now, yeah?”

“You do that” she nods, following her son out of the room, “oh and Harry?”

“Yes?” He questions, his brows furrowed as he turns his head to her.

“You look handsome” she giggles before disappearing down the stairs. Harry lets out a groan at his mum’s teasing and makes his way to his daughter’s room. 

…

YN takes a sip of her champagne as she scans the room attentively. Many parents have come up to her to greet her hello, everyone but the one she was particularly looking for. It’s well past 10 now, and Harry still hasn’t show up. YN doesn’t even know if he’s coming, really. When she had sent the invitation, she didn’t know what to expect. After that night at his house, YN tried to play it cool, but his words resonated in her head every time she wasn’t busying herself with something. 

What was the point behind what he said? What did it mean? After all these years, did it have to mean something? Or was it something he said to be… fun? To reminisce on past times? 

She possibly couldn’t know, and she wouldn’t dare ask him, so she just pretended nothing happened between them, greeting him and Aidi with the biggest and brightest smile she could muster.

When she sees him walk in, she feels her breath catch in her throat. He looks… he looks handsome. Dashing. She truly wouldn’t know how better to describe him. His hair are brushed back from his forehead, but a single strand curl is falling in front of his eyes, and he’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath it, a black tie around his neck. She gulps when they lock eyes, all the way across the crowd of people, and he smiles at her, dimples on display, his eyes bright and green.

He’s walking towards her, making his way through the room like he owns it, and once he’s in front of her, he lowers to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hi” he says against her ear, “you look… beautiful” he tilts his head backward just enough to take her in, and she truly does look beautiful. She’s wearing a long, black velvet, off the shoulders, long sleeve dress, that hugs her in all the right places and curves. 

“Thank you” she blushes, raising one hand to hold against his bicep, “you do too”.

He grins at her and she flushes, looking around the room to avoid his piercing gaze.

“So, what’s this thing fo’ anyway?” He asks. 

“Oh… it’s just money the school raises for parents that can’t afford to pay the tuition, it’s a noble cause, really” 

“It is indeed, you didn’t mention that in your text” he questions, looking at her with his brows furrowed.

“I knew you’d come anyway.” She shrugs, “you’ve always liked helping others”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he clears his throat, “That’s true, I do.”

She throws him a gleeful smile which he reciprocates immediately, and for a moment, they stay like that, looking in each other’s eyes, and YN doesn’t miss the gleam in his when he locks them with hers.

Harry’s thankful. He thought that after what he’d said, there would be tension between them, and that he’d kind of ruined their new found relationship, and he’s thankful now that he’s learned he hadn’t. It’s true, what his mum said, he’s been alone for four years, never really being alone but always feeling lonely, and it’s nice having someone to talk to, every once in a while. 

“Do yeh know where I can get a drink?” 

…

It’s a little later in the night now, and YN is feeling tipsy but definitely not drunk. Harry hasn’t left her side once, and they chatted like no time had passed between them, and it’s delightful. Truly. She hasn’t felt like this in a long time. 

“I think I need to get some air” she chuckles, “the champagne’s gettin’ to my head”

“Let’s go outside, yeah?” He takes her hand in his and guides her through the room. 

As they’re making their way out of the school, YN hears someone call her name from the hallway. She raises her head quickly, a puzzled look on her face that fades as soon as she recognizes the speaker, “oh my god, hi! How are you?” She exclaims, leaning over to greet Michail with a kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m fine! I was wondering where you were… kind of was looking for ya actually” he chuckles, raising one hand to scratch the skin behind his neck. 

“Oh…” she flushes, giggling embarrassedly. She hears Harry beside her clear his throat, and then two pair of eyes are on her, looking at her curiously. 

“Michail, this is Harry. Harry… this is Michail” she introduces them, and Harry stretches one hand between them, that Michail shakes tightly. 

“Nice to meet you, are you a teacher too?” He asks Harry. 

“What? No… I’m here as a guest” he chuckles, “YN’s guest” he points out. 

YN feels herself blush at his words, and she throws Michail a brief smile, “oh, okay” he nods, “so I guess I’m not seeing you later?” 

“Yeah, you guessed right” Harry smiles, but YN can hear the tension in his voice. 

What is happening? She feels her head spinning and she really needs to sit down. Or get some air. Either one would be fine. 

“Okay, it was nice seeing you, YN” Michail says, “you too, Harry” and he leans in to place a kiss against her cheek, waving bye to Harry and walking back in the other direction. 

YN watches his back as he walks away, and once he disappears behind the big doors of the gym, she turns her head to look at Harry. But he isn’t standing at her side anymore, he’s walked a bit ahead, a hand tugging at his hair. 

“Hey, you okay?” She whispers as she approaches him, and he’s startled by the sound of her voice. 

“Yeah, yeah” he nods, reassuring her. 

“Okay” she whispers once again, squeezing his shoulder lightly. 

 “Maybe I need to sit down” he ponders, nodding his head and locking his eyes into hers. His are panicked, searching all across her face, and he finds comfort in her soft gaze, but he doesn’t miss the confused look across her features. 

“Wait, let’s go in here, yeah?” She gestures towards one of the classrooms she knows is vacant at this time in the night. After hurrying Harry inside and checking that no one had seen them go in, she closes the door behind them. 

Harry sits on the big desk and YN stands in front of him, searching for his gaze with her eyes. 

“Harry… are you okay? What happened?” She tries again, stretching her arm to squeeze his bicep to gain his attention. 

“Is that… who was that?” 

“Who? Michail? He’s… one of the kids’ father” she says, “we used to see each other… a while back” she admits. 

“See?” He chimes, his brows raising in question. 

“We hooked up one time” she shrugs, crossing her arms on her chest to shield herself from the sudden cold that took upon her body. 

“And were you plannin’ on seeing him tonight, too? Because you know, when you sent me that text, I thought I was coming as your guest, YN!” He snaps. 

“You are my guest?” She says, but it comes out more like a question, and she doesn’t know why. Confusion is running through her mind and she feels silly standing in front of him like this. 

He scoffs at her words, “yeah, I am. Like every one else is, right? Because you didn’t invite me” “Harry, where are yeh gettin’ at? It’s a charity gala thrown by the school! Of course every one was invited” she clarifies, her brows pinched at the front. 

He shakes his head, “so I guess I’ve misread the signs” 

“What signs?” She questions, and when he doesn’t answer, she repeats herself: “what signs, Harry?” 

“I thought you invited me! But I guess you didn’t, because yeh don’t like me like that and yeh never did. It’s fine. I get it. I just thought… when the invite came… fuck… I don’t know what I thought” he rumbles, and YN feels her head pounding. His words don’t seem real, and she feels as if she’s experiencing this conversation from outside of her body. 

“I don’t understand” she simply says, because it’s true, she doesn’t, and despite feeling silly, she wants him to clarify. She wants him to be honest and tell it to her face. 

“I don’t know how to show it any more than I already am” he shrugs, his eyes avoiding her gaze, looking anywhere but her face. “I really don’t, YN. You have to help me here because I don’t…” he doesn’t finish his phrase on time that YN is already on him, cradling his jaw with one hand and the nape of his neck with the other, and she presses her lips against him, hard, in a kiss that knocks the air out of his lungs. 

He gasps against her mouth and she sighs into his, her fingers curling through his hair and tugging a bit. He places one hand on her hip and tugs her closer to him, parting his legs a bit to make room for her. 

As he indents his fingers on her skin, the realization of what’s happening finally hits her, and she parts from his lips with her chest heaving between them. Harry follows her lips with his own, and he pecks her mouth briefly once again. 

His mouth is greedy, and he kisses her like she could float away any moment, and she relishes in the feeling, and it makes her feel special, like she’s never felt in her whole life. She tugs on his hair and he sneaks his tongue inside her mouth,  exploring every inch of it. 

He caresses his tongue against hers, and it’s all teeth clashing against each other, and he’s sucking greedily on her bottom lip, drinking her in. He parts from her lips and makes his way down her neck, kissing against her skin avidly. He bites the tender juncture where her neck meets her shoulder and then licks against the bite, soothing the skin. He blows against the mark and then keeps going down, the low neck of her dress allowing him access. 

“Fuck” he breathes against her skin, “I waited years for this”. 

A whine comes out choked from his throat and she sighs heavily. He brushes his fingers against her arms, tugging down the sleeves of her dress with him. 

“Are you drunk? How much did you have to drink?” He asks mindfully, parting from her skin and looking agonizingly into her eyes. 

“I’m not that drunk” she states, her chest heaving with every breath she takes, “I feel okay. Do you?” 

He leans down to leave a kiss between her eyes and she closes them, not missing the affection behind his gesture. 

“Yes” he whispers, and YN can feel his breath against her mouth. She rises her head and their mouths meet in a shy peck. 

He then leans down to kiss her shoulder, and then tugs her dress down, exposing the skin of her breasts. 

She instinctively brings her hands to cover herself, her palms shielding her pebbled nipples, and “sorry, if it’s not… if I’m not…” she shakes her head, feeling pathetic in her shyness. 

With gentle hands he grabs both of her wrists and tugs them down, then he switches hands so he could hold them with just one hand, and he brings the other one to her side boob, caressing the skin with his thumb. 

She shivers under his touch, goosebumps pebbling against her skin, and she watches his every move, as his fingertips continue their path down her body, caressing her side and resting at her waist.

He splatters a hand against her stomach, stroking the skin softly, “Look at me” he says, and his tone is soft but has a dominancy to it, and YN finds herself obedient to him, and she rises her glance to meet his, albeit shyly.

“It’s me” he says, “it’s me” he repeats. As if to say, I’m an old friend, and nothing has changed. 

Does he know she’d dreamt of this feeling in the comfort of her bedroom many times?

“I know” she whispers, “i’m just…” 

“You’re perfect.” He chimes in, “ the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen”. And he’s aware he shouldn’t be like this. He’s aware he could be making a fool out of himself, because even if she has consented to this, this doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It doesn’t mean she feels it too. But he has to tell her, now that he has a chance. Now that his behavior and sappy compliments could be misjudged as coming from horniness. He can tell her now. Just this once, she can have everything.

She smiles shyly at his compliment and she nods her head briefly, “okay?” He repeats, “okay” she reassures.

And they’re back to square one, but this time, when Harry leans in to take her right nipple in his mouth, she doesn’t stop him. She frees her wrists from his hold and brings a hand to the back of his head, pushing herself into his mouth. 

When his teeth graze the sensitive skin of her hardened nipple, she lets out a whimper, and Harry, avid and eager to hear the sound again, bites gently on it. 

“You’re so sensitive” he breaths out, as he continues sucking on her nipple. 

He brings the hand that rested against her stomach to take her other breast, and he pinches the other nipple between his thumb and index finger.

He parts from her nipple, breathing heavily, and YN lets out a loud sigh at the sight of his lips shiny with his spit and swollen from the kissing. He’s gorgeous. 

He brushes his thumb against her nipple, and “more” she pleads, begging him. 

He chuckles breathlessly, “can you take your clothes off for daddy?” He asks, and YN feels herself almost faint on the spot. Of course he’d have a daddy kink.

She gulps and with trembling hands she reaches behind her back to unzip her dress. 

She halters her movement once she remembers a tiny detail they both didnt notice, “the door” she stresses, “we didn’t lock the door” 

He throws a glance towards the door, and stands from the big desk, walking towards it.

“The door doesn’t lock” he says after checking. 

“Fuck” she breaths out.

He turns around, a sly smirk adoring his features, and he makes his way back to her.

“That just means I’ll have to be quick” he grins. 

He places a hand on her waist and gives her a reassuring squeeze, “take the dress off”.

And YN reaches behind her back and tugs the zip down. She’d never had someone refer to themselves as her daddy before, and she feels so hot and wet she’s sure her panties are completely ruined. She doesn’t miss how he’s still completely dressed, and she pouts her lips at him, “you too”

“Shh” he shushes her, “daddy makes the rules”.

She bites hard on her bottom lip and with her fingers she pushes the loosened dress down her body, to pool at her feet. 

She’s just in her heels now, and she looks down at her feet, but before she can reach down to untie them, he stops her, “leave those on”.

She nods cautiously and when she sees him take a step towards her, she takes one back involuntarily. He’s looking at her as if he wanted to devour her, and she feels small before his eyes. And she likes that. Because this time, even if he’s in control, he’s completely dependent on her. And there’s a power in that too. 

Her butt meets the cold surface of the desk, and she jumps surprised at first, then she sits against it. Once he reaches her, he brings one hand on her outer thigh, caressing the skin there.

“S’soft” he murmurs, looking avidly into her eyes with his green ones.

“Scoot up” he orders, patting her thigh, and she obeys, sitting her bum on the desk.

With one hand against her chest he pushes her down, so she can lean against the surface, and she shivers once her back meets with the cold desk.

“Aw” he coos, “are you cold baby?” 

She hums, her hands subconsciously come up to shield her tummy from the cold, but he’s quick to grab them, “don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep yeh warm”

She gulps and closes her eyes once she feels him shift on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with where she needs him most.

He brings his hands on her knees and parts them, but YN is quick to stop him with her anxious thoughts: “Harry” she breaths out “we don’t have time, the door doesn’t lock. There’s no time”

“Shh, baby, shh now.” He whispers, parting her knees once again, and she feels him speak against the skin of her inner thigh as he slowly, agonizingly, makes his way towards her clothed pussy. 

“Don’t call me Harry, yeh know better” he says, and with his palm he swats down on her cunt, making her let out a surprised moan, the much needed contact on her clit making the blood rush to her brain.  

“Let daddy make you feel good, huh? The quicker yeh are, the less chance we get caught” he smiles mischievously. She hums and closes her eyes forcefully. 

“Can’t believe yeh made me wait years to taste yah, such a bad girl” he says, and YN can feel his breath against her cunt, even though she isn’t sure what he’s doing right now with her eyes closed.

She feels his hands on her knees again and he opens them more to have better access, and then, he lays his tongue flat against her still clothed pussy and takes a big stripe, from her entrance to her clit.

She whimpers at the contact, her hips shifting, following his mouth. 

He chuckles against her skin, moving the tip of his tongue once again to her center, “tastes so sweet…”

She wants to ask for more, but she’s sure that if she were to ask him, he wouldn’t oblige, only teasing her further, so she keeps quiet, biting so hard on her bottom lip she can feel blood rush to the surface.

He brings one hand to twist the top of her panties and he tugs the fabric upwards, so he could see the outline of her pussy from behind them. 

“So pretty” he says, and YN whines at the sensation of her now too tight panties against her clit.

He brings his middle finger to her pussy and caresses her clit with a light touch that’s not remotely satisfying enough, and then presses down on it.

“Please” she begs, her legs fighting to close, because despite the contact not being enough, it’s still something.

“Please, what?” He chuckles darkly, his middle finger moving in circles on her clit now, but she needs to feel him without the fabric between them.

“More” she simply says.

“Tha’s not enough, pretty girl… you’ve been sooo bad, I think I should leave this pretty pussy as it is…” 

“No, Harry, please, please, I need it. Please. I want you to touch me”

 “Ah, Ah, Ah” he tsk, “i told yeh not to call me tha’” he’s really enjoying watching her squirm under his touch, and he brings his thumb down to her entrance to push in a bit, her hole sucking the fabric right in. 

“I’m sorry, daddy” she whispers, embarrassed, “please”

He smiles victoriously and with two fingers he picks the fabric of her panties and snaps it back against her cunt, “see, that wasn’t so hard, huh?”

She shakes her head and lets out a whimper.

“Do yeh want my mouth or my fingers?” He asks, as he leans down to tug at her underwear.

“Both” she pants.

“Soooo greedy” he teases, but once her panties are out of the way, he doesn’t waste a second before he’s spreading her legs open, and he watches as her lips part, exposing her pussy to him completely.

Her clit is swollen between them, and he thinks maybe he’s teased enough, so he leans down and finally takes it in his mouth, sucking on it avidly.

YN lets out a loud moan when his tongue finally comes in contact with her clit, and she brings one hand down to bury between his hair, pushing him against her.

He moves the tip of his tongue sideways against her clit, and then against the under part of it, where he finds she’s most sensitive.

With his middle finger, he caresses at her entrance, massaging around before he pushes it in, burying it to the knuckle. The fit is tight, and he wonders how much time it has been since she’s slept with someone. 

Still sucking on her clit, he starts moving his finger in and out, curling it every once in a while against that spongy part inside her, sure from the sounds that leave her mouth and the wetness that’s coating his finger, that she’s enjoying this just as much as he is.

Once he feels her walls loosening up a bit, he withdraws his finger to draw a second on in, and she gasps at the feeling.

“Shh” he shushes, “relax. I’ll take care of anything, let daddy take care of yeh”

After a couple of pushes, she relaxes, and he starts moving up the speed of his fingers, still sucking on her swollen button. She lets out whimpers and little mewls, and he understands she’s close by the way her walls flutter against his fingers. 

He’s both rough and soft in the way he’s taking her, and YN wonders how that could even be possible. She doesn’t stay on the question much longer, though, because she starts to feel the unmistakable pressure of an orgasm blossoming in the pit of her stomach, and she clenches around his fingers.

“I’m gonna cum” she blurts out, “i’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum… oh!” She feels him speed the movement of his fingers inside her, and he starts alternating between sucking on her clit attend staking it with his tongue rapidly.

“Cum, baby, cum for me” he hums against her clit, and she feels the vibrations of his voice right against the bundle of nerves, and that’s what eventually pushes her to the edge.

She arches her back as her legs fight to close, and Harry guides her through her orgasm as he keeps fingering her, this time bringing his thumb to stroke against her clit because he wants to watch her when she cums.

He feels her walls flutter close as they push his fingers out, and he rolls her clit in circular motions with his finger until she’s back from her high, breathing hard with her chest heaving. He leans down to lap at her juices, “wanna lick yeh clean” he says, and he does, tonguing at her entrance and drowning in her wetness.

He leaves a final kiss to her clit and she whimpers at the sensitivity of it all, her back still against the desk. 

“You okay?” He asks after some time, and he notices how her chest is still heaving with big breaths.

“Yes, give me a minute and I’ll return the favor” she replies, mechanically, and Harry furrows his brows at her statement. 

Of course, he was delighted that she wanted to return the favor… but was that all it was? A favor? He suddenly feels confused and the previous excitement that had run through his veins left place to a kind of disappointment he didn’t know what to make of. He thought he had been pretty obvious with his feelings, and with the way he had shown them, but maybe, nothing had changed since college, and he was still that guy that got rejected many times by the girl he thought was the prettiest and nicest.

“It’s okay” he shrugs, his voice suddenly low and stern, “i’m okay” he continues.

YN rises her back from the desk and looks at him pointedly, and once she takes in his serious features, she feels her heart jump to her stomach.

Oh. He doesn’t want her to. That’s what it is. 

She suddenly thinks about how stupid she had been to kiss him. Of course she doesn’t regret it, because she could never regret what it led to, but being rejected like this? Fuck, she certainly wasn’t expecting it. 

Wasn’t he turned on? She swore she could have felt his hard cock brush against her a couple of times, but maybe after he had eaten her out, it went down? 

That’s one thing that had never happened to her, despite her many insecurities, and she feels her ego suddenly bruised. 

She nods and gets up from her position, her feet touching the ground. She watches as he lowers to her feet and picks up her dress, handing it to her. 

She suddenly feels too exposed, which is weird, after what happened, and the air had turned cold and uncomfortable, and she can’t wait to leave the classroom and go home, tucked away in the comfort of her bedroom where she figures she’ll spend the entire weekend, given this soul crushing experience she just had.

She takes the dress from his hold and notices how he turns his back to her, giving her privacy to redress, which is nice, of course, but totally necessary, and it’s making her really paranoid, because is he so grossed out by her body he doesn’t want to take another look at it?

She slips in the dress, and tries to zip it herself, but when she realizes she can’t zip it all the way, she clears her throat to gain his attention.

“Can you?” She gestures towards the back with her thumb, and he gives her a swift nod before circling her and standing behind her. 

He brushes the hair from her back and drapes it over her one shoulder, his fingertips brush against her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She hears the sound of the zip being pulled up and he clears his throat, “all done” he says, and she doesn’t miss how it’s the only thing he’s said in a while.

“Thank you” she smiles, and he gives her a small one back, but his dimples don’t appear, and she’s saddened by that realization. 

“We should go” he trails off, “’s gettin’ pretty late”

YN doesn’t have a watch on her but she figures it couldn’t be later than midnight, but if he wants to go, she certainly can’t stop him, albeit a little disappointed. This isn’t how she was hoping the night would end. 

Harry walks to the door and opens it, letting her out first, and they walk in silence to the entrance of the school.

“Do you have your car?” He asks, and when she nods, he says: “Can you drive? Want me to call yeh a cab?” 

“No, I’m fine. I told you I’m not that drunk” she shrugs, and she really can’t help but think how she wishes she was drunk instead. None of this would’ve happened, and she would be able to look him in the eye without feeling the embarrassment of his rejection. 

“Goodnight, then” he says, giving her a curt wave of the hand before heading off toward the parking lot.

“Goodnight” she says back, but he’s already left.

…

The weekend flies by and once Monday arrives, YN is dreading the school day. She almost debates calling in sick, but she knows it would only make the situation worse, because sooner or later she’d have to face a curly headed lad she wasn’t particularly keen on seeing, the embarrassment from that Friday night still vivid in her memory. She pondered long on that night, sipping wine directly from the bottle (for dramatic purposes of course), and she wondered what could she had done wrong to make him react that way. Men, in general, were always kind of difficult to understand, to her, so she figures he probably just wasn’t that aroused anymore. Which is fine, she has to tell herself that at least a million times, because the rejection is so painful and overall embarrassing she doesn’t know what to make of it.

When she walks in the classroom that day, to her surprise Aidi is already sitting at her desk, her pudgy hand wrapped around a brown crayon that she’s moving in circles on the paper, drawing something YN can’t quite make out.

It wasn’t weird, the school offered pre-school from 6 am to the parents that had to work early in the mornings, what was weird was her presence that early, something that in the school year had never occurred before.

She wonders if Harry did it on purpose. Maybe he didn’t want to face her, and she has to take a big breath before erasing that thought off her head. She shouldn’t care what he did. As many years before, he was never hers, and nothing had changed. She feels a little silly of course for thinking that he may have had a special kind of feeling for her, and despite him telling her that he did, she’s definitely convinced he was just playing around that night in his patio.

She makes her way to Aidi, and she crutches down next to her, “good morning, Aidi” she says softly as to not startle her.

“Mornin’ miss YN” she smiles a toothless grin, her hand not stopping her movements.

“You’re here early today, huh?”

“Yes” she nods, eagerly, “daddy’s at work”

“Oh” YN replies 

“This early?” Is everything she’d like to ask, but it’s really wrong prodding on this poor child to get informations about her dad, so she erases the question from her mind.

“What are yeh drawin’?” She asks instead, to shift the attention from the feared topic. Despite her means not always being the most pure hearted, YN loves Aidi. She thinks she’s such a precious little thing, and she genuinely loves spending time with her.

“’s a picture of daddy ’n me” she says, picking the drawing up in her hands and showing it to her teacher, “love him s’much”

YN smiles fondly at the picture, a small stick figure holding hands with a bigger one that she figures are respectively Aidi and Harry, the irrefutable mop of curly hair drawn with the brown crayon.

“I know he loves you too” she simply says, “very much!”

“Yeah” Aidi agrees, picking up a blue crayon to color the sky. 

��

It’s much later in the day, now, around four pm, and YN is waiting for the remaining kids to be picked up. The school is closing earlier today due to a mandatory rat disinfestation, that the parents were notified of about ten days before, and one by one every kid is picked up and ready to go home, every kid but one, she can’t help but notice. Aidi. 

She tries to not pay too much attention to the irony of it all, and she wonders to what means Harry would go to not see her. 

Maybe he forgot about the disinfestation? She doesn’t know, and despite fearing the answer to the question, she’s his daughter’s teacher. And she’s an adult. So she takes her phone from the back pocket and with trembling hands she looks through her contacts until she finds his name.

The feeling of calling someone you don’t really want to hear, and being aware of the mutualness of this deep rooted fear, is something that never really leaves. Not even at 26. Not even now that she has a big girl job and an apartment all alone. 

The piercing sound of the line ringing has her bringing a thumb to her mouth, biting on her nails nervously. She peeks at Aidi that’s playing with a doll on the floor, and she’s glad she appears to be unaware of the situation. A parent forgetting to pick you up is something that can scar you for life.

“‘llo?” She hears from the other side of the line, and she almost jumps in her place at the sound of his voice.

It took him a while to answer, which is uncommon for him, and she wonders what he was doing. Was he working? But then again, he said he was a writer, so she figures he must be working from home? “Hi, Harry… it’s YN” 

“I know who it is. I’m kinda busy, wha’s wrong?” He stresses, and YN feels her heart beat fast. 

“Oh, nothing… ’s just, when are you picking Aidi up?” 

“I don’t know” he says sternly, “i’m kind of out of town right now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours and take her then”

“You can’t do that, didn’t you get the email? The school’s closing early… rat disinfestation an’all tha’… ’s not like we have rats, don’t worry. ’s just mandatory, and the school is required to do…” 

“Fuck!” He interrupts, “it must have slipped my mind this morning. Fuck!” He repeats.

YN hears him shuffle on the other end of the phone, and after a brief moment she hears a quiet explanation of the situation to what she figures is another person, and a hurried ‘goodbye’.

He clears his throat, “are yeh still there?” 

“Yes, hi, yes” she rumbles.

“I’m gettin’ in the car now, it’ll take an hour I think. Forty minutes if I hurry. Can yeh… can she… is she allowed to stay? Fuck, — he seems to be talking to himself now, and she hears the loud sound of his car horn beeping — who even gave yeh a license! Fuckin’ hell” he shouts.

“Harry” she trails off, hoping to catch his attention, “’s okay. I can take her until you’re not here. We could go get some ice cream, or yogurt!! Whichever she’s craving more. Wait… Is she allowed to eat ice cream? Because I know this delicious place…”

“YN!” He interrupts her again, “please get to the point”

“Oh… i was just talkin’ about this ice cream place it’s nothing serious”

“‘nough with the ice cream already! Can you really take her? I can pay you, like I would a nanny… yeh know I’m proper loaded so money isn’t a problem.”

“What? I don’t want your money. ‘f course I can take her! She’s such a cutie, we’re gonna have so much fun!!!” She smiles happily.

“Thank you” he sighs, relieved, “i’ll be there in an hour, more or less” 

“Okay. Drive safe, you don’t have to worry ‘bout her, she’s safe” she reassures him. Because then again, Harry is Aidi’s father, and she knows how much he worries when it comes to her.

“Okay” he says, and he appears calmer now, “but no ice cream before dinner, YN!” 

She scoffs, “you’re no fun”.

Didn’t he say ‘enough with the ice cream’?

…

YN ended up buying the ice cream for both her and Aidi anyway. 

(There was something so delicious about eating ice cream during the winter, and one thing abut being a grown up, YN had found out, was being able to eat whatever she wanted and whenever she wanted)

And the biggest cone she’s ever seen, too. Two scoops of chocolate and one of strawberry for Aidi. Screw Harry. That’s what she thought when paying for it, now… she felt a little guilty, of course, but she’d begged Aidi to keep this ice cream run a secret between her and her teacher, using the term on purpose because she knows how much kids respect their teachers. 

So… she figured he’d never know. 

“’s good, moppet?” She cooed, picking up a couple of tissues from the dispenser in the middle of the table to wipe at her mouth. 

Aidi only nodded, too busy with her ice cream cone to pay much attention to YN.

“Oh no!” Aidi pouted once the ice cream started dripping from her cone to her hand and finally to her white coat and white tights, the candid fabric now dirty with dark stains. 

“Oh god!” YN exclaims, “wait, let me help”

YN picked up some other tissues and started wiping at Aidi’s hands, who switches the cone from one hand to the other while she cleans her, but maybe letting a four years old eat an ice cream cone wasn’t the best of ideas. 

“Daddy’s gonna get mad” Aidi giggles when YN started wiping at the stain on her clothes without much result.

“Probably… with me though” she agrees, nodding her head thoughtfully.

“Sooo mad” she keeps giggling, “he always say: no ice cream before dinner!” She repeats, trying to mock his stern voice but failing, and resulting in the most adorable thing YN had ever seen, and she can’t help but laugh too.

“He’s such a meanie” she smiles, tossing the dirty tissues on the table before her.

“I won’t tell, miss YN” Aidi reassures, and YN smiles once she sees her little pink tongue peeking out from her mouth and trying to lick the chocolate ice cream off the side of her mouth.

“Thank you bug” she says, chuckling, “but I think he’s gonna notice” she frowns, pointing to the state of Aidi’s white tights.

“Mhmh” she agrees, humming. 

“When is he back?” She asks after a while, her tummy full of ice cream, a satisfied look on her face. 

YN taps the screen of her phone on the table to check the time, “i think he’s almost here”

“How much time?” She asks, swaying her little legs from the edge of the chair.

“Mmmhh,” YN ponders, she’s certain a four years old conception of time isn’t the same as an adult, so she gestures with her hands a small portion. “This much”.

“Oh, ‘kay!” She exclaims happily, “so… almost” she nods proudly.

YN giggles at her antics and reciprocates her nod, “yes”.

After about half an hour, her and Aidi are tucked away in the warmth of her car, the heating full blasting, and YN even removed her coat to let Aidi snuggle in it. She’d fallen asleep almost instantly once her cheek touched the window, and YN decided it would be best to just wait for Harry in her car after the ice cream. She couldn’t possibly bring Aidi to her house, and Harry had previously told her it’d take him only an hour, so she figured that was the best option.

Despite Harry’s good resolutions, he called at around six, almost two hours after she’d called him from the school, but YN was glad he took his time and didn’t speed, as she had told him on the phone, Aidi was safe with her.

She’s driving in silence to his house now, where they accorded to meet, trying to drive the best she can to avoid potholes as to not wake Aidi up.

Harry’s already going to be mad about the ice cream, and he’s already avoiding her all together, so she certainly thought it wasn’t a good idea to leave him with a fussy toddler on top of all that.

Once she reaches his house, she parks near the curb and texts him that she’s outside. 

He opens the door right away, almost as if he was expecting them from behind it, looking from the peep hole, and YN notices how, despite him being home for at least a good five minutes, he was still wearing his coat and shoes.

“Hi” YN greets him softly, somehow the tenderness of the situation easing the embarrassment she felt prior.

She’s aware he was beating himself up for forgetting about his daughter.

“Hey” he says, walking to the car and opening the passenger’s side door, “she asleep?”

YN nods her head, “out like a light”

When Harry leans down to pick his daughter up, he cradles her to his chest between his arms, holing her tight and placing a long, harsh kiss on her hair.

YN felt her heart clench at the sight. She understood he felt guilty, and she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, and he most certainly wasn’t the first parent to forget to pick up their kid from school, and had it been four days ago, she probably would’ve told him. But now, after what had happened, how was she supposed to? Harry made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with her, romantically and sexually, so was it her place to reassure him?

“I’m so sorry baby” he whispers against her hair, and YN has to refrain herself to stretch out a hand to comfort him. 

“Le’s get yah to bed, huh?” 

But when Harry goes to turn around, a small whimper comes from the little kid in his arms, and YN can see a small arm reaching towards her.

“Miss YN?” Aidi asks, voice laced with sleep, and she knuckles tiredly at her eyes when YN smiles at her.

“Daddy, want miss YN to read me a story” Aidi demands, looking up at her father with big, puppy eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure your teacher has more important things t…” 

“I’ll read to her, ’s fine” YN chimes in quickly, because honestly, she really didn’t want this day to end. And Aidi particularly requested her, so who was Harry to deny it?

“YN” Harry warns, sternly, but YN has already made her way towards them, tickling at Aidi’s neck softly, “I’ll read how many stories yah want, moppet”

YN tries not to feel too disappointed when she hears Harry’s quiet scoff.

…

“Goodnight, Aidi” YN says softly, placing the hard cover book on her little bedside table on her right.

She’d read Aidi and her stuffed animals three stories, one about a frog that was too scared to go to school, the other about a cute elephant that wanted to be a ballerina, and the last one (Harry said it was her favorite) about a princess bunny that enjoyed drinking tea with her friends.

Aidi had chuckled every time YN did different voices for the animals characters, and after Harry told her she had to read to her stuffed animals too (she had five tucked next to her), she had started asking them every now and then if they were enjoying the story or if she had to reread something they didn’t understand. 

Harry had watched the scene fondly, and his heart had grown in his chest, full with love he knew he wasn’t supposed to feel. It was nice, watching how tender YN was with his daughter, and despite the warm feeling in his limbs, he felt bitter. Because why couldn’t he have that. What was it so hard to love about him that not only the mother of his child had left, but also the girl he’d been in love with since college? 

After saying goodbye to Aidi, YN throws an awkward smile to him and walks out of the room, waiting just beside the wall. She knew Aidi wanted to be tucked in by her daddy, she had told her many times how he always said I love you, and she thought she’d give them some privacy.

She could still hear them from outside the room, the door still open, and she bit her bottom lip hard once she heard the sound of Harry’s kisses and Aidi’s quiet giggling.

“Daddy loves you so much, bug. Don’t ever forget that” she hears him say in a soft voice.

“How much?” She hears Aidi ask, and she picks up on that question she’d asked her about the time previously at the ice cream shop. This was probably something she did often with Harry, and she really had to refrain herself from peeking inside the room to watch them.

“This much!” He laughs. “How much does Aidi love her daddy?” 

“What!!!” She hears him say, probably feigning shock, “that little!” 

“Yes, only a little” Aidi playfully giggles, and then Harry makes a growling sound and: “the tickle monster’s gonna getcha!” 

Laughter erupts and it reverberates in the hallway, and YN feels silly for standing there, invading on their privacy, so she gets off the wall and walks quietly down the hallway, reaching the staircase.

She makes her way downstairs, and once she reaches the sitting room she picks up her coat from the armrest of the couch, tugging it close to her chest to try and warm herself from the imminent cold feeling running through her body.

She hears Harry clear his throat behind her, and she jumps a little in her place. 

“Didn’t hear yah there” she gasps, bringing one hand up to rest against her beating heart.

“YN, thank you for today. I really…” she watches as he shakes his head, avoiding her gaze, looking for the correct words to choose, “’m proper grateful fo’ what you did.”

“’s okay, Harry” she interrupts him, “you don’t have to thank me. I love Aidi, she’s such a sweet kid”

“She is” he agrees, “but still. Thank you.” 

She nods her head at his words and gulps, and she really should’ve left it at that. It was probably the best thing to do; what any normal and sane person would do. She should’ve just accepted his thank yous, put on her coat  and left, but she didn’t.

“I never should have kissed you, Harry” she starts, “I’m so sorry if I overstepped some boundaries, I thought…” she sighs, biting harshly on her bottom lip. She doesn’t know what possessed her to say that, maybe the urge to get things back to normal, because it had been three days since the kiss and she already missed how comfortable their relationship had gotten.

“YN…” he shakes his head, stopping her, “’s okay, ’s the past, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but… I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t”

“What are you sayin’, YN… that you regret it? The kiss? Tha’s what you’re sayin’?” He scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest, almost like a pouty child.

“Well I… no, but… it was kind of embarrassing” she chuckles nervously, her fingers tightening their grip around the thick fabric of her coat.

“So you do regret it. ’s fine. I understood right away, clearly nothing has changed between us, you’re still really hard to read and I’m kind of tired of trying to understand you” he snaps, passing a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“I’m hard to read? — YN humorlessly chuckles, pointing an accusatory finger to him — You’re confusing! You tell me you liked me and then after I let you eat me out you leave me like that? That was so embarrassing, why would you do that?”

“Oh… are you sad you didn’t get to return the favor? You made me feel like a fuckin’ slut!” He says, exasperated. 

“Is that what you’re so mad about? That I called it a… favor?” Her brows pinch at the front, and she looks at him pointedly. 

“No, I’m mad because I love you and you’ve been playing with my feeling since we were fuckin’ 20 years old. But don’t worry. It’s clear now.” He snaps, somehow trying to keep his voice down to not wake Aidi.

YN feels her head spin at the conversation, and his words replay in her head, hauntingly.

“You love me?” She repeats in a small voice, but he seems to not get her question, because he keeps rambling: “I’ll get a nanny, okay? So we’ll never see each other again at school, and once the semester ends I’ll sign Aidi to another class, she’ll be so sad but it’s fine, it’ll pass. I’ll try and find someone before the end of the week, so we’ll never…”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” She chuckles, because the situation is funny to her and she’s still hang up on those three words he said. She doesn’t miss the bewildered look that displays across his feature, his green eyes bright and reflecting in the dim yellowy light of his sitting room.

“Figured yeh’d laugh! ’s funny to you, innit?”

“It is a little bit funny. — she nods, grinning — I don’t want you to do any of that!” 

“YN… i don’t think I can see you everyday and…” he sighs, his sweater clad chest heaving.

“Harry” she stops him, raising a hand up to squeeze his bicep between her fingers, in a way to make sure he was giving her undefined attention “I don’t want you to do that because I don’t want to stop seeing you. I didn’t think you loved me”

“I literally told you! So many times! And I think I showed it too…” he shakes his head, but doesn’t remove his arm from her hold.

“I kissed you! I thought you understood!” She exclaims, pinching the fabric of his sweater with her fingers.

“How am I supposed to understand if you don’t tell me anything!” He says, and for the first time, he locks eyes with her, his gaze softening at the sight of her big eyes looking hopefully inside his.

She giggles despite the uncomfortable conversation, and Harry shakes his head, “You’re so frustrating” he admits, sighing heavily once again.

“And you’re silly! I let you eat me out!” She whispers, even if it’s just them, because the intimacy of that gesture didn’t go unnoticed by her.

He doesn’t say anything, his gaze unfocused.

“I’m sorry I never said it back. — she admits, sighing — I really liked you. I didn’t think you’d even noticed me… I didn’t realize how hard I was being. I’m really sorry.” 

“YN… ’s fine, I’ll get over it” he trails off, once again.

“No, listen to me, okay? I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t know, back then. And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when you told me weeks ago. I thought you weren’t being serious. But I liked you too, I really did. And I wasted a lot of years thinking you didn’t like me back, but it’s not your fault. I should’ve been more… more clear, maybe”

“Yeah, that would have saved us many years probably” he agrees, his heart in his throat, wary of her next words.

“Yeah” she agrees, “what I’m trying to say is that… I loved you and I still love you. If you still want me. I love you” she confesses, and she feels as if a weight has been lifted from her chest, the heaviness of her words finally setting her free after so many years of bottling up her own feelings.

“You really hurt me” he whispers, looking harshly into her eyes, and he bites the inside of his cheek before saying, “really hurt me. It’s unfair you’re telling me now”

YN swallows down her saliva, biting hard on her bottom lip, the harshness of his words hitting her, because truly, she never really thought about his feelings.

On the other hand, she’d like to tell him how much he had hurt her, and embarrassed her, but what good could it do? She already revealed the most important thing about herself: that she loved him. And she hoped it wasn’t too late. 

“It’s okay if you… if you don’t like me anymore” she shakes her head, scared of her own words, because she doesn’t really mean them. It’s not okay. She doesn’t want to give him away. She wants him. 

“I know ’s been a long time, but…” she continues, “I thought you had to know how I feel about you, because I never said it back. And I’m not a spiritual person for shit, but… I can’t help but think maybe this is another chance to make things right. I had to tell you. I couldn’t not tell you. And I’m really sorry for hurting you. I’ll leave now, if you don’t want me here…”

“We can pretend this conversation never happened and just… you don’t have to make Aidi change classes, I like her” she says, and it comes out in a plea, really, because she doesn’t think she has it in her to lose them now. If he wants to pretend this heartfelt conversation never happened, she’ll be sad, but she’ll do it. For the sake of their “friendship”. Because she doesn’t want to lose him again.

Harry seems to ponder a bit on her words, and in that space of time she’s almost ready to put her coat on and leave, as she should’ve done before, and she’s almost there. She’s on the point of slipping her coat on, but Harry raises one hand and takes her coat from her hold, throwing it on the couch beside them. 

“I don’t want you to leave” he whispers, taking a step in front of him, they’re so close now their chests are almost touching, “don’t leave.”

“Okay” she nods, “I won’t.”

 He leans down to be closer to her face and he presses his lips on her forehead, not quite kissing her, more like a comforting presence, and she feels the tenderness of his gesture. 

“You really do make me go mad” he sighs against her skin, his arms sneaking around her waist, squeezing her against him. “But I love you too”

YN feels her inside warm at his words, and she wraps her arms around him too, squeezing him tightly. She was never good with words, and she’s glad he understood anyway, despite her messy attempt at confessing her feelings.

She looks up to him then, resting her chin on his chest, and he leans down to press his lips against hers. This kiss is much different than the last one, much more soft and less hungry, and even when he slips his tongue to lick at her bottom lip, there’s nothing but tenderness in his gestures.

He brings one hand up to caress her cheek, his fingertip light as a feather against her skin, and YN feels herself melt in his hold. The gesture makes her think back about that time on the bus, how he had touched her so softly, almost scared he’d ruin her, and she thinks about how much things have changed, but mostly nothing had, because he loved her then and he loves her now! 

His tongue brushes against hers, and she sighs into his mouth happily. 

When he parts from her mouth, he gives her another small peck, his lips wet against hers, and “taste like chocolate” he hums against her lips.

“Mmh, about that…” she ponders, “you might have to buy Aidi a new coat, don’t think those stains are gonna come out” 

“Yeah? I thought I told yah no ice cream ‘fore dinner?”

YN laughs a laugh through her nose, and leans in to kiss him again, “you love me”, and there’s nothing but adoration in her eyes.

“I do” he agrees, looking at her fondly.

“And by the way, don’t worry about the coat” he smiles, “reckon I’ve gotten quite good at doin’ laundry, there’s no stain that can resist me” 

“I’m really proud of you” she cackles jokingly, “i remember your mum used to do it for yah”

“Heyyyy” he pouts, “only sometimes”

She raises on her tiptoes to press her lips to his in a brief peck, but when she goes to part from him, he only squeezes her tighter against him to deepen the kiss.

“Let’s go upstairs” he breaths out, “you still have a favor to return” he says playfully, and one hand travels down to her bum to pinch at the skin.

She swats at his chest but turns around, in a hurry to reach the stairs, “yeah” she agrees, turning to look at him with a mischievous smile splayed across her mouth “we wasted enough time already”

“Tell me about it” he mumbles, biting his bottom lip as he watches her sly smirk, “thank god you finally came to your senses”

They both laugh at his words, and Harry follows her upstairs to his room, picking her up and throwing her on his bed. That night, he finally gets to kiss all over her body, as he had dreamt many many times, not only in college, but even then, when he thought she was too far away to reach despite seeing her every morning when he left his daughter at school.

Harry, too, isn’t a spiritual person for shit, but maybe, he allows himself to think, this is what it means to be loved, and he finally doesn’t have to wonder anymore what’s so hard to love about him, because, despite not knowing, he’s always been loved, in the years he’d known her, and YN, in the arch of their relationship, and in it’s imminent future, will make sure to tell him that, many times, and the memory of all the wasted years, will remain, thankfully, what it always was: a memory.  

Just wanted to take this small space to thank you all for liking and reblogging the first part, you have no idea how happy you made me, so thank you so so so much 😭 the story is over but i can do updates in the future if you guys want <3, i really hope part 2 didn't disappoint, feedback is very much appreciated. love you all

🏷️ taglist: @indierockgirrl @onlystylesss28 @gemofthenight @summertime-pills @lomlhstyles @sicklscream @watarmelon212

[miasmaghoul]

whos the best ghoul cook? do you think they have any weird eating quirks (like water ghouls eating raw fish, mountain chewin on his terra cotta plant pots, fire ghouls needing to eat more bc of higher body temp, anything like that)?

Did I ever tell you guys that I earned a scholarship to culinary school? I couldn't go, but cooking and baking remain passions of mine that I do NOT get to talk about enough.

But now you've given me an excuse >:)

So here, a BUNCH of my cooking (and favorite food) headcanons for the ghouls and Papas alike!

(There's some murder ghoul content here, mostly in Alpha's section - couldn't help myself 😌)

Aeon isn't one for cooking. Loves eating food, certainly, but not making it. He's more of a snacker, partly because it's more convenient but mostly because he doesn't have the attention span to do much more than microwave instant noodles. He's not picky though, will eat whatever is put in front of him as long as someone else has prepared it. Also doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, more of a salty/savory guy. Favorite foods include hot cheetos, thick cut beef jerky (good to gnaw), and whatever appears on his plate at meal times.

Aether is a ghoul of simple tastes. He'll cook when he has the time, but it's going to be one of his four go-to recipes every time. Always some format of protein + starch + veg, with a complementary sauce. He meal preps every weekend after his retirement so he can have easy meals to microwave and eat in the infirmary. Isn't the biggest fan of cooking with company, unless they're willing to stay out of the kitchen and not interrupt his routine. Has a weak spot for bananas. Favorite meal is one-pan roasted chicken, potatoes and asparagus with rosemary and garlic from Mountain’s garden.

Alpha does not cook, wouldn't dream of it. He doesn't even deign to eat human food most of the time, turns his nose up at it when offered. He likes his meat raw, and wants to hunt it himself so he can feel the blood run down his chin. Any prey is fair game - if he finds you in the woods, you'd better hope you can outrun him. (You cannot.) Favorite foods include the flesh and organs of anything with a pulse.

Aurora likes the idea of cooking, but in practice...well, she tries. She's impatient, is the problem - what do you mean simmer for 20 minutes? She's hungry now! She inevitably rushes everything she makes, no matter how much input she gets from the others, and has yet to learn her lesson. She also has a MASSIVE sweet tooth, they can't keep enough sugary snacks in the pantry as far as she's concerned. Favorite foods include spaghetti with butter and cheese (one of the only things she can always get right), boxed brownies and any kind of fruity candy she can get her paws on.

Cirrus can cook pretty well, if she says so herself, but it's rare that she does it for anyone but herself. She has very particular tastes, and doesn't want to have to adapt them for others. She loves organ meat and bitter vegetables, enjoys the intensity of those flavors while the smell alone keeps most of the others away. Oh well, more for her! She'll eat anything thats made for her though, especially if its served on a silver platter by someone on their knees. Favorite foods (aside from the aforementioned organs) mostly include healthy things like fresh fruit and veggies, steamed shellfish and lean meat.

Cumulus is more of a baker than a cook, but enjoys any time spent in the kitchen either way. She's the type to make a day of it, in her comfiest clothes with music playing while she dances in front of the stove. Her food is never the prettiest, but it's made with love and tastes so much better for it. Her favorite things to bake are cookies and pies, but she doesn't eat many sweets herself. Prefers seeing the others enjoy them. Favorite foods include homemade bread (she has a sourdough starter named Breadly) with lots of butter and flaky salt, anything citrus-forward and wants her proteins heavily spiced (not spicy, she has a low tolerance, but loves the fragrant flavors of herbs and spices).

Dewdrop doesn't advertise it, but he's one of the best ghouls to have in the kitchen. His precision and attention to detail are second to none, and while it doesn't make him particularly fun to share a kitchen with it does make him an outstanding cook. He likes very intricate, involved recipes because he can use them to showcase his skills (and earn a whole bunch of praise at the dining table as a bonus). Loves spicy food, which everyone assumes is due to him now being a fire ghoul, but he's actually always enjoyed a good burn. Favorite foods include any meat served on the bone, fermented foods (kimchi and sour pickles especially) and anything smoked.

Ifrit does not know how the stove works. He survives on protein bars and any leftovers he can pilfer from the abbey kitchens. Food is not a thing he's super interested in, just takes what he needs to fuel himself, and would rather follow in Alpha's footsteps anyway. He likes to hang out at the lake every now and then with Mist, though - she'll pop up from the water every now and then with a nice plump trout to toss his way, which he will roast with his bare hands. Doesn't really have a favorite food, but does like crunchy things.

Mist, if she isn't sharing her spoils with Ifrit, will keep her catch for herself. She's small enough that one good-sized lake fish will tide her over for the day. She does prefer them raw and whole, always a bit on the feral side, but she can be convinced to join the others for sushi if the offer arises. Favorite foods include anything alive and not poisonous in the lake, and cookie dough ice cream (don't tell anyone).

Mountain is overall considered to be the best cook amongst the ghouls, and definitely has the goofy apron to prove it. Naturally skilled and adaptable, he enjoys preparing meals for his pack and will do so with anyone that wishes to lend a hand. Usually it's Cumulus or Sunshine, but they all keep him company at one point or another. He grows much of the produce used in their kitchen himself, all of it fresh and delicious, but Mountain does not eat a bite of it. He's a total carnivore - the closest he gets to eating his homegrown goodies is including them in a stew but avoiding them in his own bowl. Favorite foods include rabbit, venison and this one Vietnamese style grilled beef and rice noodle dish that Dew makes.

Omega learned to cook by osmosis, if you ask him. Time spent under three Papas will do thay to a ghoul. He doesn't cook much, but he's excellent at crafting simple, filling pasta dishes that are good for the soul (so to speak). Also treats it as an excuse to drink plenty of the good wine stashed away in the abbey's cellars - blame Terzo for that habit. Favorite meal is fresh pappardelle served with roasted tomatoes, basil and spicy sausage.

Rain doesn't cook if it involves more than the microwave, not because he can't but because he prefers to be waited on. Breakfast in bed, charcuterie plates in the afternoon, specially prepared dinners to make sure he's kept happy - none of it is necessary, but Rain can't help how much he loves being served. Good thing no one minds giving him the royal treatment. He will also indulge in the odd raw fish during a swim, but only does it beneath the surface, away from prying eyes. Favorite good is soup, any kind, but he prefers brothy ones over thick or creamy styles. If he had to pick a single favorite varitey, it would be miso.

Swiss is only allowed in the kitchen because he's good with a knife. He can burn through prep work like nobody's business, but that's where his skill set ends. He's caused one too many greasefires to he trusted at the stove, and every time he's put something in the oven he's forgotten about it until smoke filled the room and the ghoulettes had to magickally air it out. But he can chop like a food processor, so he gets the knife pass. He's another one that'll eat anything put in front of him, with one exception: eggs. Can't stand them. Favorite foods include red meat served rare, really dark, bitter chocolate and anything with hideous amounts of garlic.

Sunshine is chaos personified in the kitchen. She loves to experiment with flavors and techniques, but has yet to have anything close to a success. Pasta with pesto and pineapple (alliteration is fun), chocolate covered avocado balls (with bacon, because why not), a tuna sandwich made with coconut yogurt instead of mayo (it's healthy!) - these are but a few of the food crimes that have lost her solo access to the kitchens. This girl could burn cereal, and no one wants to see that. She does love to eat though, and will frequently hang out when someone else is cooking so she can sneak bites whatever they're making. Favorite foods include cheese (all kinds), sour candy and all the orchard fresh peaches she can get her hands on.

And for the Papas:

Primo had to learn his way around the kitchen from an early age, thanks to the responsibility of raising his younger brothers falling onto his shoulders. He learned by watching the kitchen staff - a pair of elderly Sisters with so much skill in their gnarled hands that Primo couldn't look away. He never got very good at it, mostly sticking to a handful of reliable dishes that could be made cheap and easily for the three of them. His favorite of the bunch was also the one thing he was best at making - a simple mushroom risotto.

Secondo took to the kitchen like it was second nature, once Primo could trust him to not chop a finger off. Would spend hours poring over cookbooks and learning by doing, eating his own failures so his brothers wouldn't have to. He really enjoyed making simple but hearty comfort foods, lots of rib-sticking braises and stews filled with herbs and veggies from Primo's modest garden. He even cooked the last meal they ever shared together, on that fateful Uno night. It was his favorite, a lasagna constructed from fresh sheets of pasta, homemade ricotta, spinach and a simple tomato sauce, served with roasted garlic focaccia.

Terzo did not get the cooking gene, aside from being able to boil water for his tea. It wasn't a big deal since his brothers picked up the slack, and he decided there were other things that took priority - like music, history and how to retain a full head of hair after age 30. He preferred drinking over eating anyway, mostly saw food as something to put in his stomach to cushion the wine. He was a man of simple tastes, and his favorite thing was a humble sandwich of mortadella, provolone and spicy pickled peppers.

Copia never had to learn to cook, raised by the Clergy and doted on thanks to a not-so-subtle suggestion from Sister Imperator. More than a little spoiled in that sense, he would also go on to be the most worldly Papa in terms of his tastes. So much time spent traveling the world helped to expand his palate, and he got into the habit of sending pictures and descriptions of his favorites back to the abbey so the kitchen staff could figure out how to replicate them. It's impossible for him to pick a favorite, but thanks to so much time spent in LA he does have a real soft spot for Mexican food. Tacos al pastor in particular, but without the cilantro (he has the soap gene).

[max-nico]

Another installment of random Sonic Headcanons

Sonic doesn't like buttercream frosting, Tails doesn't like whipped frosting, and Knuckles always wipes 90% of the frosting off his cake

When Tails is doing something, whether it's working in his lab or just making dinner, Sonic will shadow box the air behind him. He stops when Tails turns around to look at him, but the fox very much knows that Sonic is throwing fake punches at him lol

Tails, Cream, and Charmy play animal crossing (or the Sonic equivalent lol) together

Matter of fact, I think like all the characters play video games together. I'm sure they have different types of video games they like (I can see Sonic playing animal crossing but Jet? Not so much) but it's not odd for them to enter an online lobby

Tails loves crunchy foods

Espio once asked Vector to death roll him to "see if his body could take it".... Vector obviously said no

I don't think any of the cast really feel famous, except for maybe the Babylon Rogues bc they're (probably) sports stars

No matter how often they get asked for an autograph or approached in public they're all like "???? Yeah ??? I guess I can take a picture with you ???"

I think hedgehogs are one of the most common races (species??) of Mobian

If the Robotniks were Mobian they would be robins (<- pretty sure I've said that before) and possibly various other red and black birds

Barry and Tails keep in contact, but they don't get a lot of chances to hang out

I don't have anything for Blaze and Silver rn but just know that I love them dearly and I'm always thinking of them

Cream is determined to befriend Shadow. She will stop at nothing until he admits that they are friends

Sonic hates being on talkshows, and talkshows hate having him on, so it's mutual lol

The Rookie (whose name i cannot remember rn it's on the tip of my tongue omg) keeps the most contact with Knuckles, but everyone still stops to chat when they get the chance

Shadow suffers from memory loss after... Falling out of a spaceship and... Losing his memory...

I think for a while he was too prideful to write things down or set reminders because heaven forbid the ultimate lifeform needs help. This led to Shadow forgetting where his own place was and refusing to ask how to get there

Maybe this is my new explanation for why Shadow is always in caves and is never shown in a house of his own, instead of the actual explanation lol

Sonic often talks to Gaia/Chip when he's alone, Tails caught him a few times and has also picked up the habit, though he does talk to him less than Sonic does

Charmy doesn't like bananas

I've said this before in this post about shadows development, but I think he sheds a lot. Hedgehogs aren't actually supposed to lose quills unless they're super stressed, but because Shadow's DNA is only partially Mobian Hedgehog, a few things are off

Okay, that's all for now. I feel like this one's kinda short, but it's whatevs !! Feel free to talk to me about your own hcs I LOVE hearing about them. Happy year of Shadow everyone !!!!!!

I am a Tails centric blog but feel free to hit up my DMs or askbox about any of these characters !!!

[heartfullofleeches]

I would love butterfly boi hc <3

-🩷

Adonis - Yan Butterfly Hcs

Warnings: Cannibalism, Mentions of death, Stalking, Gross Behavior (namely sweat)

-

Adonis is a male, conventionally attractive purple emperor butterfly. The attraction for many stops as his looks as getting to know him people tend to notice something.. strange about him. He seems friendly on the surface, but never expresses deeper interest in others beside his darling unless they've been injured or taking about their medical history in any form. Before meeting his lover Adonis has a very bleak, but cheerful outlook on life. It leans heavier on the brighter side once he realizes his feelings to the point he meets every day and event with a smile - even those where he's witness to or commits terrible crimes against humanity.

• Works for a crime clean up crew by day and most nights, and as a grave robber others. Most, if not all, of the jobs Adonis receives are phoned in by crooks/corrupt members of power as with his appetite it's killing two birds with one stone. They usually allow him to take whatever since he's already taking care of the body which results in nearly every house he cleans appearing as if no-one ever lived there.

His "souvenirs" are his prized possessions - till his darling comes around. Then he's willing to share. His first gift to them is an engagement ring he received as payment for his first job. It's a priceless heirloom, if the guy it belonged to have just sold it he'd still be around, but if that happened Adonis wouldn't have been able to give it to someone who deserves it more. The second gift is matching butterfly knives. Always on the hunt for more things to present to his darling during his cleanings. Anything brand new shows up on their doorstep or hooked up indoors if tthey haven't changed the locks again.

• Adonis' ideal darling is someone who's a little untidy. He enjoys his job and taking care of his lovebug, plus while cleaning up their home he can find more treasures to take with him. Half drunken bottles, sweaty clothes, straws they may have bitten. If they're the type to have adult toys he'll clean them by hand... likely with his tongue or after using them himself. It's important to keep things like that clean and sanitized.

Has a nasty habit of throwing out fragrant soaps and perfumes/colognes as they mask the natural scents he adores. Adonis is touchy and clingy during all seasons, but Summers are his most active as seeing his darling sweat cause him to lose all train of thought. Refuses to let his darling shower without bathing them with his tongue first when sweaty. If they aren't a fan of his tongue he'll wipe them down with some towels and huff the moist cloth instead.

Adonis' ideal first date is capturing someone from either his or his darling's past and burying them alive in a grave at his local cemetery while they have a picnic nearly in the butterfly garden. Adonis is stuck up in his head at times with fantasies of domestic bliss chopped up with slaughtering the neighborhood on the eve of a big anniversary. He makes killer banana bread.

What's his is his darling's, but the one thing he forbids is them going into his closet. Adonis has a hobby for polaroid photography and his closet is where he produces the film. He'd hate for his darling to recognize a face in his red folder drawer or find the drawer labeled with their name