#Like he's willing to spend a lazy day at home and rather enjoys them

[tojivu]

Helloo!! I've came across ur fics a few times and it never fail to makes me smile, and I have an idea from scrolling on tiktok for a whole week, I'm not sure if ur reqs are still open... But may I request the orange peel theory with jjk men n boys? Your pick on who u want to write in that scenario! If ur req is close pls ignore this! Thank you and I hope you have an amazing day!

the things i do for you ! ⋆ jjk men

the orange peel theory ˖ gojo, geto, toji, nanami.

an. honestly i'm still kind of ??? on what exactly is the orange peel theory but i'm assuming it's just acts of service? im so sorry if its wrong LOL pls i don't keep up with tiktok......

an ii. ok i did end up getting the prompt wrong but i hope yall like this anyway..

cw. sfw. f!reader. not proofread. acts of service.

playing. lovesong by beabadoobee.

GOJO SATORU is a familiar face at the local coffee shop down the block — and no, it's not because he keeps raiding their cheesecake displays. he much prefers the ones across the street; he only comes by this particular one to pick up your favourite coffee.

"toru, could you get something for me at the coffee place?"

"yeah, i can," he hums. "what do you need, baby?"

it's actually only a 5 minute walk, and you never told satoru your order. it was too specific that you were sure he would forget; so you just told him to buy an iced latte and be quick with it. after all, you could never go wrong with such a basic drink.

"'s okay, baby," he presses a quick kiss to your cheek, confident he would not come back home with a boring latte. "i'll get you something even better."

"please don't. your taste in coffee is terrible — no, forget it, i can just go by myself later." you groan, wriggling around in the sheets of your bed to find that warm spot in the blankets; satoru was up since 6am, and you've only just opened your eyes.

"oh, no need for that," your boyfriend smirks: almost too creepily. "i have great taste! both in coffee and women—"

you smack his arm, using your hands to gesture a shoo-ing motion. you weren't conscious enough to tolerate satoru's gross flirtations. his eyebrows furrow and lips pout, quickly planting another kiss on your forehead before standing up. he scrambles through the desk drawer for his sunglasses — eventually finding them and leaving the house.

little did you know that your boyfriend has your order memorised — it was a small order, not that difficult to remember. satoru didn't think it was necessary to make you get up and grab it yourself; he had legs, and he liked the fresh air, too. plus, he knows he'll get to see you smile first thing when you wake up; perhaps you might give him one of those kisses on the forehead that he loves so much.

you thought he would have called you lazy for not getting up — he would be offended you think so little of him if you admitted that. satoru sees your sleepy face, hears your peaceful snores and he thinks he would rather die by impalement than wake you.

when satoru returns, you're still tucked into bed and fast asleep. he leaves the coffee on the nightstand before kneeling down and leaving the third kiss of the day, right on your lips — and it's then that he realises that you have him so in love that he's willing to spend $8.95 every morning for the rest of his life on overpriced coffee.

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GETO SUGURU holds the most romantic date nights, but there's only one thing you don't particularly enjoy — that being there's always so much walking involved.

yes, you think the opportunity to just take a breath and link pinkies with suguru is nice; it's just that your shoes tend to undo themselves no matter how many bunny ears you tie. your laces have been through war — the plastic aglets have been long lost and the loose string is practically just that. they're starting to pull apart from eachother that you consider just wearing heels for the next few dates until you find better ones.

"we just need to turn the corner—"

suguru's words are cut off by your sighs. you look down at your shoelaces and they are once again untied; the pout on your lips make his curve upward, after he lets out a sigh of his own.

"i really need to get you new shoes," suguru mutters. "they've definitely been through it."

"can you tie them for me?"

it's a simple request that gets suguru on one knee, dress pants stained by the concrete dust, as you patiently wait for him to finish tying the knots he's so skilled at.

"the ones you tie never come out."

"that's a lie," suguru says, his voice a little muffled with the distance between your heads. his rough fingers miss the loop and he opts to restart the knot. "i tied them before we left the house, and look at them now."

your face flushes at that. he sees through your lie like glass — you were always so easy to read.

"i just like the way you tie them, sugu. plus, they only untied because i redid them myself."

"yeah, i think it's because i don't tie them like a preschooler," suguru teases — he ties the knot tightly and stands up. "you should learn how to tie them the right way, baby."

you shake your head, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. his left pinky reaches for yours again, before you two start to walk once more.

"why do i need to learn if i have you?"

there's silence for a bit, nothing but cars honking and chattering from the people enjoying the nightlife just as you were — you almost retract your statement when suguru looks at you expectantly.

"is that so?" suguru chuckles at your response. "i guess you're right."

you giggle at his seemingly sarcastic reply — but you don't see the way he smiles, the way the tips of his ears burn, nor do you hear the loud thumping of his heart that tell he is being serious.

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TOJI FUSHIGURO doesn't know what small is.

well, everything about him is big — his body, his mind, his bank account, his heart.

it took you awhile to figure that last one out, though. toji always does the big things. the extravagant, flaunting, costly things. it's only small to him, and it often takes you a lot of convincing to get him to not spend hefty amounts of cash on you.

he feels it's necessary, to take care of his sweet girl like any man should — toji knows nobody can pamper you as well as he does, so he makes sure his money is spent wisely in making you feel safe and content.

you don't know how to tell him that there's no need for all of it, that you just want him to be with you — it's only until one day when you're coughing and sneezing in bed that you have to, after toji's constant pestering about hiring a family doctor.

"tch, baby," toji's voice echoes throughout the spacious bedroom. "shit—you're burning up."

"i'm fine," your voice is hoarse, nose crinkling at the incoming sneeze. "achoo!—"

he frowns, and the scar on his lip shifts downward. he sits on the edge of the bed, thick fingers moving stray hairs away from your face. "told ya we shouldn't have gone last night."

you shake your head. "it was your friend's birthday."

"does it matter, [name]?" he sounds stern. he only ever acts strict with you when he's really worried. "y'were already falling sick yesterday."

you reach for the box of tissues, fingers trying to reach inside the packaging for another piece, but you seem to have used all of them up — the 3rd time today.

"can you stay home, toji?"

it's one simple request that has him nodding. if you didn't mention it, he thinks he would've forgotten all about work — toji was much too worried to let you stay home alone, while a random doctor he hires on the day of attends to you. he much rather take care of you himself.

"i think i'll fuckin' have to," toji answers, frown plastered on his face out of pure worry; he has no idea how happy his reply makes you — you were more than comfortable with the idea of him taking care of you. "'m too worried to let you be alone."

"thank you, toji," you smile up at him and he feels his face burn up, so much that he thinks he feels hotter than you; "you always take such good care of me."

he always does. there was no doubt about it.

it's then that toji fushiguro stands up, his feet quick in making it's way to the bathroom to prepare a cold towel to plaster on top of your forehead. his actions are quick, wanting to make you feel better as soon as possible; your pale lips and tired eyes worried him more than he'd like to admit.

he ends up cooking the worst chicken noodle soup ever, but you chug it down with a grateful smile and a kiss to toji's cheek.

"fuck," he mumbles, sounding almost annoyed. "think i'm gonna get a fever now, too."

the smirk on his face tells you everything, though — at least now he knows money can't buy this.

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NANAMI KENTO is the type of man to do as you please, whenever you please, even if it's something you didn't even ask for.

he loves to see the smile on your face, the way your eyes sparkle when he agrees to help you with something just because you want him to — he can never get sick of the way your voice thanks him.

this is especially true in times of emergency.

it's a friday night and you're having dinner with nanami, legs crossed underneath the marbled tabletop — your silk emerald green dress flows perfectly, hugs your body just right; you think you did a good job picking it out today.

nanami had a range of activities planned out for tonight. it was your anniversary — dinner, then a film festival, then whatever surprise he kept a secret after.

you didn't try to snoop this time, genuinely thrilled to have such a special night with your lover; you were always one to love surprises, especially the ones from nanami.

beautiful, slow tempo jazz plays in the italian restaurant — you feel like you're from a different time, enjoying such authentic food.

"ken," you smile. "you should try some of this."

he doesn't respond for a bit. he's been looking at you with dreamy eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip; it's not until you giggle that he snaps out of whatever state he was just in.

"sorry, darling," nanami clears his throat. "you just look absolutely breathtaking tonight."

you physically feel the blood rush to your cheeks, too fast that it's almost embarrassing: kento truly knew how to fluster you.

you spin the fork in your hand clockwise, picking up a ball of pasta. "do i not look breathtaking every night?"

nanami chuckles, fingers controlling the knife sawing away at the steak that sits ready on his plate. "stop teasing. you know i think you're beautiful every second—"

plop.

your eyes widen, feeling a damp spot on your thigh. your fork suddenly feels lighter, and your eyes dart down to your dress that now has a patch of spaghetti sauce.

your eyes forcefully close shut in embarrassment, fingers rubbing your temples as you sigh.

"shit," you curse under your breath. "i'm sorry, kento."

he smiles, shaking his head. "what are you apologising for? you didn't drop it on purpose."

nanami sees the frown that drags your smile away, and he feels his heart sink. he knows you really loved that dress — and so he asks you to just enjoy your meal and that he'll make something work.

it's then that his plan derails, just a little. you two are running late to the film festival, but he couldn't think of any better solution.

"wait a little, okay?"

nanami parks the car, and his feet quickly lead him out and into the mall for a little over 10 minutes — when he returns, it's with a black bag with gold printed letters.

oddly familiar, you think.

he steps into the driver's seat, shuts the door and opens the bag: it's the same dress you're wearing, just in a different colour — blue.

nevertheless, you can't help the smile that creeps up on your face. "ken.. you really didn't—"

"yes, i had to." he interrupts. "i know it's not green, but i hope it's okay."

"thank you, love." you say, voice too sweet that nanami remembers all the reasons he does these things for you — he thinks he'll never get tired of it.

020224 — happpyy february ! also i think nanami's one is a little ermm but we rock we roll life moves on yolo :( i got lazy towards the end but i tried Okay

[puck-luck]

new beginnings | june 3 - june 9

note: this chapter features me trying to find the right balance between "slow burn😈" and "OH MY GOD I'M SO BORED CAN THEY FUCK ALREADY", so enjoy that.

here is a link to chapter one! if you've forgotten what took place, i recommend skimming, or just read day 7 over again!

8:90 – HONEY

Mondays are Honey’s lazy days. It’s the last day of her weekend, since The Reading Nook isn’t open. She usually spends her day doing laundry and cooking for the week, but today, all she wants to do is lay in bed.

She hasn’t been unproductive, per se. She started her laundry and took a shower, even shaved her legs. She replaced her sheets, and then the allure of her bed called her back in. She cocooned herself under the covers and cracked open the book from her bedside table, but Honey’s eyes have just been sliding over the page. Her mind is elsewhere. 

She can’t stop thinking about Saturday night.

It was fun. She had fun.

From the first moment, she was comfortable. The boys treated her and Bea like their friends, people that they’d known for longer than a week. She had been apprehensive at first, then thankful that Bea was willing to leave with her if she wanted to, but she never really wanted to leave. The time just came and she knew that she couldn’t be there any longer.

The second Jack opened the door and she saw Luke and Cole holding Trevor back, she just felt light. 

Since leaving home, she really only had Bea. The old ladies are friendly enough, but it’s not the same. Before coming to Litchton, Honey and Bea went to a big high school. They knew a lot of people between the two of them and Bea was captain of the school’s state-championship-winning volleyball team their senior year. Honey’s parents were well known in the community and they were really involved in their church. 

She went from having plans every night with her friends, sneaking out of the house to get up to no good because she wasn’t legal yet, and being miserable because she was overcompensating for a feeling she couldn’t describe to… asking her best friend to go off grid with her in a tiny town that no one from their hometown knew. And Bea came.

Honey was happier this way, and Bea could adapt to any situation with a little time so long as the illusion of adventure was intact, but it was still lonely. She loves the home she made for herself in Litchton and how it taught her to be an adult, her own person rather than a version of her that was molded from her surroundings. At the same time, she misses knowing people her age.

Litchton, as great as it was to Honey, was the kind of little town that you flee when you leave for college after living there your whole life. The only time you come back is when you’re starting your family, or maybe even after your kids move away and you crave that small town life your parents enjoyed so much.

Or, if you’re Honey’s dad, you vacationed in the town as a kid and wanted your child to have the same experience. 

Long story short? There is an abundance of people under 18 and over the age of 50 in Litchton, but not so many 19-30 year olds.

It’s more of a problem for Bea. She’s the one who’s looking for a relationship. Honey is not looking for that. She’s not.

It’s nice to have a few new friends, though. Not Trevor, really, even though he seems desperate for Honey’s attention. Honey didn’t talk much with Luke, since the boy was quiet for most of the night. The most animated she saw him was when Trevor started his Zulu Run and Luke cheered him on. Quinn was at the pool table the whole night… until he was upstairs… but he seems like a cool guy. Jack is easy enough to talk to, when he’s not flirting. 

Honey’s not ashamed to admit that her favorite is Cole. He’s a sweetheart with a charming smile and thoughtful intentions. He’s a good person. Honey kind of wishes that she had met him when she and Bea first became friends– she can only imagine how precious he was as a child. Their trio would have been something the other kids envied and Honey and Cole would’ve been each others’ date to prom. 

He would’ve fit in really well with them, she thinks. He’s kind of like the male version of Bea. Maybe that’s why she likes him so much.

Her phone rings and it’s Bea’s name that flashes across the screen, speak of the Devil.

Honey answers and starts to say hello, but Bea cuts her off.

“I’m at your front door,” she says, then the line goes dead.

Honey pulls the phone away from her ear and stares at the screen. She scoffs and shakes her head, tossing the covers off and swinging her legs around the side of the bed. She’s just in the old boxers that she stole from her last boyfriend and a bralette, her laziest outfit. She doesn’t even consider changing as she walks to the door and opens it. Bea’s seen all this, and more, before.

“Good, you’re not wearing clothes,” Bea breathes out in relief as a greeting. She pushes past Honey and makes her way towards the bedroom. “I was going to make you take them off for this anyway.”

Honey rolls her head back and fakes a snore. She closes the front door and trails after Bea, finding the girl sitting on her bed when she reenters the room.

“Okay, before we get started, I want to give you a chance to tell me about your night after I left the room,” Bea says. “Oh, and I should probably tell you that Trevor was upset that you weren’t at church yesterday.”

“Okay,” Honey replies, her laugh strained. “That’s… weird.”

He likes you. He’s good. He’s trying. You should like him too.

Honey shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “Not much happened. Trevor did his Zulu Run, each of the boys chose a song for him to run to, and I left during Cole’s song. Jack walked me to the door.”

“Oh,” Bea drawls. She tilts her chin up and taps her nose. It’s a habit they both picked up when they were teenagers– a secret signal of sorts when they were talking shit at parties in their younger years. They do it when something is too ‘on the nose.’ It’s supposed to be clever– Honey thought of it. “So that’s why Trevor pushed Jack up against the wall, while he was naked, might I add, and asked him what the hell he was doing?”

Honey freezes, lips parted in surprise. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she hopes that she looks judgmental enough to hide the shock.

Bea tilts her head to the side slowly and smiles up at Honey, pulling one of her braids over her shoulder and twisting the end between her fingers. “Isn’t that so… interesting…?”

Honey licks along her top row of teeth and seethes at Bea. “No,” she snaps. “I don’t find that interesting.”

Bea rolls her eyes. “Fine. But you can’t fight this forever, Honey. I’m going to get you laid this summer, while we have this many willing participants, whether you like it or not.”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you did with Quinn? I know that’s why you’re here.”

Bea’s face lights up and she grins from ear to ear. “Honey, I know they’re all athletes, but, like… holy shit.”

She jumps into a long winded story that begins with the second Quinn bent over her to hit the 8 ball and she felt him against her behind. (“He wasn’t even hard yet, and I was practically swooning!”) Bea is gesticulating wildly, miming her movements and even climbing onto Honey’s lap at one point to recreate the position Quinn had her in. 

Bea’s downright dirty about it, and Honey squirms a bit. This happens every time Bea hooks up with someone, but it never becomes more comfortable for Honey. 

After Bea finishes describing the way that Quinn groaned when he came, all the while Honey is cringing because she’ll never look at Quinn the same again, she says: “You know, if you just started having sex again, I wouldn’t have to describe my hijinks to you.”

Honey laughs out loud, her jaw dropping at the statement. “You’re a liar!” She accuses, pointing a finger at Bea and pushing her over on the bed. 

Bea giggles into the covers, hiding her face from Honey. She shrugs and nods along as Honey continues her accusation.

“We’re going to keep doing this shit until the day we die!” Honey exclaims, her cheeks tight with how wide her smile is. Laughs keep bubbling up from her chest and interrupting her sentences. “Buzzy, when you get pregnant, I genuinely think you’re going to find some sperm and shove it up my cooch so we’re ‘experiencing everything at the same time.’ You freak!”

Bea howls with laughter, clutching at her stomach. “Fuck off!” 

“I swear! When you get married, I’m going to have to get an IUD just so I’m not fearing for my fucking life the whole time,” Honey retorts, grabbing her pillow from near the headboard. She whacks Bea with it as the girl squeals and tries to avoid the weapon. 

After a satisfying hit to the side of Bea’s head and a groan of contempt, Honey throws her pillow back up to the headboard and collapses into her sheets, her head turned to face Bea’s. They giggle and blink at each other for a minute, breathing in the smell of Honey’s fresh laundry. 

Honey’s eyes are half-covered by the top sheet and for a moment, when she catches a glimpse of Bea’s flushed cheeks, she thinks of all the times that they had sleepovers in Honey’s childhood bedroom and stayed up all night trying to stifle their laughter. 

Honey pushes herself up from her position and shuffles under the covers, pulling the sheets up to her chest. Bea joins her with a little groan. They sit together, facing forward, mirror images of each other.

“Was he really that good?” Honey asks softly.

“Better than Overalls Joe,” Bea replies.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Honey turns over, leaning against her pillow. Bea follows her lead and faces her, her hand tucked below her cheek in a little fist. Her face scrunches, catching on the skin of her palm.

“Does that change anything?” Honey asks. “Are you still going to hook up with all of them?”

Bea nods tentatively. She breathes out a sigh. “For a second, after we finished, I thought about not telling him. He was so sweet and great that I thought maybe I wouldn’t want to go through with everything, and you know how much I love the strong, silent type, but like. I don’t know.”

Honey searches her face for a clue. Bea still looks just as uncertain as she’s describing. She purses her lips and avoids eye contact with Honey, turning so she’s facing the ceiling. 

“You thought that you’d change your mind and you’d want a monogamous hookup situation, but when you finished with Quinn, you hadn’t,” Honey supplies. She’s still laying on her side, looking at Bea’s profile.

Bea bites the insides of her cheeks. “Yeah.”

“And you felt bad.”

“Yeah.”

“And you still feel bad.”

“Yeah.”

Honey finally shifts to lay on her back, reaching over to take Bea’s hand. They stare up at the fan on Honey’s ceiling. It’s dusty. Honey makes a mental note to clean it later. 

“He reacted well when I told him,” Bea says. “He was surprised, which I get, but then he kind of just shrugged. He said if I wanted to have a Slut Summer, then he wasn’t going to stop me. I referred to it as a Slut Summer first, by the way. He wasn’t being an asshole about it.”

“Do you regret it?” Honey asks.

“I needed to tell him. It would be so unfair to Quinn if I hooked up with him, got his hopes up, and then hooked up with one of his brothers.” Bea shrugs and shakes her head. “I feel gross about it because I know he was disappointed for a second, but I’d feel grosser if I didn’t tell him.”

“How did he act after you told him? After the shrug?”

“Well, he also told me that he just got out of a relationship, and then he acted normal for the rest of the day. He drove the boys to church and drove me home after. He was touching me in some way almost the whole time.” Bea drops Honey’s hand and picks at a hangnail. “And we made out when we were at my place.”

Honey’s lower lip juts out in an unimpressed look before she smiles. Good for Bea.

But she's not finished.

“I just— I saw how he looked at me when I first propositioned him.” Bea covers her face with both of her hands. “And he told me that if this had gone down when he was younger, it would've ruined him. I know he meant it to lighten the tension because he laughed… but, like… I can’t get that image out of my head. Baby Quinn getting his heart broken by a girl who didn't want more from him. It makes me feel like shit.”

“Maybe you should go over there,” Homey suggests. “You should talk to him some more and clear the air.”

“I can’t,” Bea complains. “I can't let him know that I care. Then he’ll have all the power.”

Honey rolls her eyes. “I don't think that’s how this works.”

“It's how I think it works!”

“Okay.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Honey picks up her book from her nightstand and begins to read. Bea stares at the ceiling.

Ten minutes of thought later, she sits up abruptly.

“I'm going home,” Bea announces and leaves the bed, pulling her shoes on. “I'm drinking some of my calming tea and going to bed. I’ll see you at the store tomorrow?”

Honey looks over to her clock and snorts out a laugh. It’s only 5:15 in the evening. Bea’s going to be overtired by the time she wakes up in the morning. She’s planning to sleep for almost sixteen hours. “Be at work at ten,” Honey tells her. “You're scheduled then and the ladies are coming in.”

“Yadda yadda,” Bea replies, then waves goodbye and blows Honey a kiss. “I’ll get there when I get there, like every day other than Friday.”

Honey sniffs out a laugh, then returns to her book. It's just now getting good. The story follows a girl who is trying to create an anthology based on her hometown’s history and she’s spent the past few weeks interviewing the townies and local historians, just to stumble upon a town secret that no one really wants to talk about. 

Honey thinks it’s the best book she’s read so far this year.

Her alarm beeps at a quarter to six, and Honey puts her book away. She stretches under the covers, groaning at the satisfying pop of her joints as she does so. Honey throws the covers off of herself and leaves them messy as she changes out of her pajamas and into some spandex shorts and a long t-shirt. 

She grabs her mesh shoulder bag and her car keys, ready to head to the fruit stand outside of the grocery store. She had finished her peaches halfway through the week last time, so she needs to buy more today. She’s feeling like blueberries would be a good investment– maybe some blackberries. 

Honey keeps her head down, parking near The Reading Nook and walking along the sidewalk. She shuffles by a few townies with a nod, and turns the corner. She stops dead in her tracks.

Trevor.

He’s standing at the stand, two paper bags in his arms. He’s chatting with the vendor, a sweet woman named Joan who’s been working the booth for twenty years. She’s laughing and smiling at him and holding another little bag. Trevor bends at the knee and makes a joke as she tries to balance it precariously on top of his other groceries. 

Honey just hopes he’s leaving soon. She walks up to the booth and starts to peruse the apples, keeping to herself and hoping Trevor doesn’t see her before she leaves.

It’s a futile effort and she knows it.

“Honey!” Joan exclaims. “How are you doing, my dear?”

Honey smiles, soft and sweet at the woman. “Hi, Joan. I’m okay. I did some chores today, so I’m just happy to be out and about.”

“Well, you just let me know what you’re looking for today and I’ll give you my best,” Joan promises and leaves Honey to browse. 

“Hi,” Trevor says.

“Hello, Trevor,” Honey replies, not even looking up at him as she scans the selection for the best looking fruit. 

“Do you like tarts?” Trevor asks.

“They’re fine,” Honey replies. She picks up a carton of raspberries, ripe and red. “I prefer turnovers.”

“I was thinking about trying to bake something later,” Trevor tells her.

“That’s nice,” Honey says. She’s not an idiot. She knows what he’s hinting at. Trevor wants to hang out with her again, this time in a much more intimate setting. She’d be at their house, because she would not allow him to invite himself over, but the presence of the other boys wouldn’t mean much. “I’m sure Cole would love to watch you try to bake some tarts.”

“Cole would be a disaster,” Trevor laughs, like Honey just made the best joke he’s heard all day. 

“Maybe he would surprise you.” Honey turns to Joan, holding up her raspberries. “Are these ready? Or should I wait a little while for the next batch?”

“You know what I always say, Honey,” Joan answers. “The second batch is always the best.”

“Good point. Do you have a quart of blueberries around here somewhere?” Honey scans the stand, but she doesn’t see them.

Joan points to the other end of the stand, past Trevor.

For the first time since making it to the stand, Honey looks up at Trevor. She makes eye contact. His eyes are green and he’s happy and there’s this tiny smile on his face as he looks down at her.

“Excuse me,” Honey says. She tries to keep her voice hard, disinterested. 

Trevor continues to smile down at her, arms full of groceries. She focuses on the point slightly past him and squeezes by, her back towards the stand. She tries to avoid shoulder-checking him, but they brush arms anyway. Trevor’s skin is warm against hers, even if it’s just a fleeting pass.

“Would you like to come over and bake with me?” Trevor asks. “I’ll let you take home half the goods. I need someone with some experience to help me out, I’m not much of a baker and you seem like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s an enticing offer, only because Honey had so much fun the other night. She could probably convince all the other boys to help, and Trevor would hate that her attention isn’t completely on him.

“What kind of tarts?” Honey asks. “If I like the flavor, then I’ll come over.”

Trevor’s smile splits his face like he knows something Honey doesn’t. “Joan just sold me some of her best strawberries.” He tosses the older woman a wink.

“What a shame,” Honey muses, and bites back a smile at the way Trevor’s face falls. “I’m allergic.”

“What?” He asks, genuinely taken aback. “Bea said–” He cuts himself off and his eyes go wide, flushing to the tips of his ears at the inadvertent admission.

“‘Bea said?’” Honey repeats, tilting her head to the side. “What did Bea say?”

Trevor scowls at the ground and scuffs his shoes against the sidewalk. “She said you would like strawberries if I bought them for you,” he grumbles.

“Oh, poor baby,” Honey teases. “She tricked you, and you fell for it.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, but Honey can tell that he’s a little bit pleased with the endearing term, even as mean as she said it. 

“Go home, Trevor,” Honey says, her voice turning despondent instead of laced with laughter. “Don’t ask Bea for help with me again. If you want to win me over, you have to do it yourself.”

“Me-ow,” Joan chirps, reminding Honey that they have an audience.

Honey picks up a quart of blueberries and hands Joan a few dollars for the berries, placing the basket in her bag. She grabs a few peaches on the way back to her car, the payment covering the cost of those as well. She walks back to her car, catching a glimpse of Trevor loading his groceries into the trunk of his car. She quirks her eyebrows as she sees him scrub his hands over his face and pat his cheek, not unlike the wake up call she gave Jack on Saturday, saying something to himself.

Whatever. Honey came out on top of that conversation, yet again. One good night at the boys’ house doesn’t mean that Honey wants to hang out with Trevor again, even if she’s bringing donuts over on Friday.

9:90 – TREVOR

Trevor gave up on trying to fall asleep around 4 a.m. after tossing and turning all night. For a while, he scrolled on his phone and caught up with his friends’ Instagram posts. The rental house has WiFi, but it’s notoriously terrible being in the mountains and all, so Trevor’s stuff never loads. In the early morning hours, while none of the other boys are awake and scrolling, he’s able to load up three TikToks in a row once he tires of Instagram. It’s a luxury he hasn’t experienced in over a week. 

He chalks it up to excitement for the day– they’re getting to go on the ice for the first time since coming to North Carolina. Quinn is planning on packing up Trevor’s car around 9 and they’ll be on the road to Bojangles Coliseum, home of the Charlotte Checkers, soon after that. Trevor can’t wait to be back on the ice and have a real hockey practice, even if it’s self-led. 

But, at the same time, Trevor can’t chalk all of his inability to sleep up to excitement for the day.

No, some, if not most, of his inability to sleep was due to the fool he made of himself yesterday. 

He was so close to getting Honey to come over, so close to getting her alone in something that he could call a date, even if she didn’t consider it to be one. He had blindly trusted Bea, something he now knows not to do, and gone with the strawberries rather than ask Honey what kind of pastry she’d like most. 

Of course she’s allergic to strawberries– it only makes sense that Honey’s conniving best friend wants to enjoy Trevor’s plundering just as much as Honey does.

And Trevor knows that she enjoys it.

Poor baby.

Even with the ounces of condescension pooling around the words, Trevor cannot stop them from ringing through his head on a loop. Baby, baby, baby. He’s never been one for pet names, preferring his name or to be called Z, but he sort of wanted to fall at Honey’s knees and beg her to keep calling him that.

Which is peculiar.

Because Trevor doesn’t fall to his knees for anything, much less a girl, and much less one he barely knows.

He can’t seem to shake Honey from his mind, though. Part of it might be the fact that he’s not in a relationship at the moment and he’s used to being in the city over the summer, where he can go to bars and the country club and chat up plenty of nice girls his age. Trevor’s not sure that’s the case, though. It’s a good excuse, but he knows deep down that the reason he can’t shake Honey from his mind is that he likes her. He wants her to like him, too.

Disgusting.

He’s in his early twenties. He has no desire to settle down with someone yet, especially not at this point in his career. The hockey life is hard for him. He can only imagine how hard it would be for someone who had never been a part of that world, who had never had to deal with the constant travel and practices and commitments of the job.

And yet, he keeps catching himself thinking of moments where Honey is part of his life. She’s not, and he knows she’s not, but like when she came over on Saturday: she went toe-to-toe with Jack, decimated him enough that Cole gave her a trophy and a hug, and dominated the pool table. She never went easy on Trevor, nor on the other guys, and she fit. She was happy to be there, even when she caught herself and took a step back. 

Trevor can’t wait to see how beautiful she looks when she finally lets loose.

He’s a little embarrassed by his actions after she left, but only because he knows that the story has probably gotten back to her. Bea probably told her all about how Trevor pushed Jack up against the wall for getting Honey alone, probably overexaggerating the story to make Trevor look more like a fool. Obviously they didn’t do anything– Honey turned Jack down earlier in the night– but Trevor felt a very unfamiliar clench of rage in his gut that caused him to lash out at his best friend.

Not his most shining moment.

He would absolutely do it again.

However, Trevor will never get the chance to do it again if Honey never comes back to hang out with him. 

But he keeps coming back to those strawberries. Strawberries, Bea said. Trevor was a fool for thinking Bea would really teach him all the ways to get in with Honey. When Honey turned him down, and told him the reason, it took Trevor by surprise and he slipped up. He revealed that he had asked Bea for help and Honey grew delightedly wicked at the mention. Trevor watched her eyes light up, the joy fill them as she gained an opportunity to tear him down.

She loves to be in control, loves it to the point of reinforcing her walls that she’s built up for years and years, Trevor assumes, at any opportunity. He saw it in the way she switched from teasing to curt and serious within a moment. 

When he texted Bea afterward, upset and biting like a rabid dog, all Bea replied was: “you were never going to get her with my help. stop using me as a crutch. freak.”

And then an hour later, “do u think quinn is mad at me”, which Trevor never replied to, because he had no interest in asking Quinn if he was “mad at Bea.”

All he cares about is if Honey is mad at him. 

She didn’t seem like she was. Trevor just has a feeling that something is off and he needs to find a way to make up for it before he loses his chance to win her over. It’s dramatic, yes, but he needs to be on her good side. He needs it.

He cannot possibly think about this any longer.

Trevor swings his legs over the side of the bed and patters down to the kitchen, phone in hand. He printed out the recipe the day prior, preparing for Honey to come over and bake with him, but he had been too pouty to follow the directions last night.

He already can’t sleep, so he might as well cook. The sooner he makes those tarts, the sooner his housemates eat them all, which is ideal since he wants to forget this exchange as soon as possible. 

Trevor had bought these mini tart shells the day before, pre-baked and thrown into the fridge haphazardly in his frustration. He takes them out to prepare, then assembles the rest of his ingredients.

It’s slightly therapeutic, the baking. He blends ingredients together with a wooden spoon until the lumps are gone, he lets the ingredients simmer over apple juice. He watches as it solidifies and goes from two separate solids and liquids into a sugary glaze. He pours the glaze over the tarts and arranges the strawberries on top of the little shells. It takes him a while to get them all perfectly balanced. They kept falling over, much to his chagrin, and before he knows it, the sun is nearly rising. He’s got a tray of twenty-four tarts on his hands and not enough room in the freezer to chill them before they leave for Charlotte.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Then, again, he spits out, “Fuck.”

Trevor stares at the piles of frozen pizzas and chicken breast and steak that have accumulated in their freezer, bags of ice to be blended into drinks on hot days.

“Motherfucker,” Trevor growls, then covers his mouth. He glances towards the stairs, expecting one of the boys to make their way down at any moment.

When no one appears, he turns his attention back to the freezer.

Trevor hauls out the bags of ice, the stacks of food. He clears the freezer and grumbles, shoving the tarts onto a shelf. The strawberries fall over again and he has to fix them. He all but slams the food back into the fridge, unorganized and harsh. He forces the freezer door shut, the sound echoing throughout the house.

“Oh,” Trevor hears a sleepy voice say from behind him. He turns around, eyes wide, and finds Quinn in his boxers and a navy t-shirt at the bottom of the stairs. “I should’ve known you were the one making all this noise.”

“Sorry,” Trevor says. 

“What are you doing?” Quinn asks, rubbing his eyes before glaring at Trevor. “It’s not even six.”

“Are you mad at Bea?” Trevor replies, hearing frustration tinge his voice. He points an accusing finger at the older boy. “Because it’s her fault that I’m in this mess.”

Quinn raises his eyebrows, unimpressed with Trevor’s accusation. He opens his mouth to yawn, joining Trevor in the kitchen and sitting behind the counter. 

“I’m not mad at Bea,” Quinn says simply. “I admire what she’s doing.”

Trevor makes a face. “What’s she doing? You?”

Quinn growls a warning at Trevor. “I don’t have to explain her business to you. Yeah, she and I hooked up, and it was great. We’re going to keep hooking up. But she’s allowed to do whatever she wants. I told her if she wanted to have a Slut Summer, I wasn’t going to stop her.” He holds up a hand to cut Trevor off. “She called it a Slut Summer first, by the way. I’m not being an asshole about it.”

“Who’s she slutting it out with?” Trevor asks, laughing. “The only non-Hughes boys in this house are me and Cole and, quite frankly, I don’t want Bea like that. Cole’s also too short for her. There are no other guys in the town.”

“She is going to get whomever she wants,” Quinn says, voice cool. His face is calm. “Whether they are in this house or not.” He schools a tight, borderline-annoyed smile across his face. “What are you doing?”

“Baking,” Trevor snaps. 

Quinn snorts. “Sounds like you’re mad at Bea.”

“I am! She fucking– how do you know about that?”

“She told me, you idiot,” Quinn replies. “And I thought it was very funny.”

“When did she have time to fucking tell you–”

“Right when I got in the car, Trevor.” Quinn nods, a smug and satisfied expression on his stupid face. Trevor’s not biased. “She couldn’t stop laughing, even after she told me that you were about to buy strawberries for Honey… who is allergic to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Trevor demands. “You knew I was going to the market just for that! We didn’t need anything. You made me pay for beer!”

“Because it was funny.” Quinn slaps his hands down on his thighs and shrugs. “Because I wanted to see this play out. My only regret is not going to the store with you and watching it play out in person.”

Trevor sneers at Quinn. “I hope she never sleeps with you again,” he grits out, sincere and nodding. 

Quinn narrows his eyes and leans in, voice quiet. “If she never sleeps with me again, then she will never bring your little friend around again. We both know that you can’t get her to come over on your own.”

He and Trevor maintain eye contact for a minute. Trevor is the first to break it, looking down and away with a clear of his throat. He steps back to the fridge and takes out the carton of eggs to make himself an omelet.

The boys traipse down the stairs in annoyingly long intervals. Jack is the last of the five to mosey down the stairs and make his breakfast, which is when Quinn leaves to pack Trevor’s car for their practice today.

Trevor is glad to be driving to Charlotte alone. Quinn’s words lodged themselves deep between his ribs and left him unsettled. He’s always been able to get the girl he wants and he’s been secure in that. But this is different– this is Honey, the first girl he’s ever wanted so much, and Quinn’s absolutely right. Trevor has no idea what he’s doing and has no chance at all.

And as Trevor runs sprints by himself during practice, just circling in laps over and over, he decides that Quinn is right. It will never happen. Honey would never be interested in him like that and she has made it very clear. Trevor will have to settle for being her friend, and only her friend. It’ll be hard enough to get her to like him, but he’ll have to do it if he wants even a slice of her at all. 

And on the drive home, the decision settles like a rock in his stomach. Trevor has never felt quite so unhappy in something that he has to accept. It’s her friendship or nothing at all, and Trevor will be damned if he receives nothing at all from Honey. 

10:90 – HONEY

It’s officially summer.

Ada was at the bookstore when Honey came to open it up this morning. Evidently, she had been up since the wee hours of the morning, plucking deep purple blackberries off of the vines behind her home until she had plenty for a pie. She could have baked it at home, but instead, Ada chose to bake the pie in the tiny, barely functional oven in the back. 

The Reading Nook has been filled with the scent of sweet, summery blackberries, and Honey cannot think of a better way to start the day.

Bea is late for work, obviously, but she strolls in with a coffee for Honey and a kiss on the cheek for Ada to make up for it. 

“Good morning girls,” Bea sings as she walks into The Reading Nook. She’s wearing a navy t-shirt that’s tied in a small knot around her midriff and a long, flowy orange skirt. 

“Is that my skirt?” Honey asks, accepting the coffee from her friend and zeroing in on her outfit. 

“I’m being Donna from Mamma Mia 2 today and I needed it,” Bea replies. 

“Oh, you’re just like Donna, alright,” Honey confirms, the thinly veiled insult darkening Bea’s face.

Bea opens her mouth to retort, but thinks better of it when her eyes flicker over to Ada. The sweet old lady might have a heart attack and die if she learns what Bea is planning for her summer. Instead, Bea paints a smile over her face.

“It smells good in here,” Bea says. “Did you bring us some sweets, Ada?”

“I am baking you a pie right now, Miss Bea,” Ada says, turning the page of her magazine with a polished finger. She doesn’t even look up at the girl as she speaks. She’s immersed in her activity, eyes scanning the page so she doesn’t miss a word. 

“Good, I ran out of desserts and no one bought me any strawberries this week.” Bea cuts her eyes at Honey.

“We already talked about this. If you want strawberries, go ask Trevor.” Honey’s expression is impassive. She and Bea had had a long discussion yesterday about her meddling and how it’s overstepping Honey’s boundaries.

Bea had agreed to let up, but she’s still pouting about it. 

“I just don’t understand why you’re not interested in him,” Bea hissed through gritted teeth, leaning into Honey’s space between the stacks. The knitting ladies are barely out of range, but Honey wouldn’t be surprised if they were craning their necks and listening in. She wouldn’t be surprised if Sacha turned up her hearing aid, just to try and catch their whispers. “He’s cute and he likes you. He bought fruit for you.”

“I don’t want him,” Honey reinforces. She’s repeated the same thing, in so many words, to Bea all morning. She even read the messages that Trevor sent Bea after the strawberry incident, with Bea’s permission, and all it did was stress her out. “And I don’t want you to help him anymore!”

“I’m not going to,” Bea promises. “But you should give him a chance.”

“No, Bea!” Honey looks around and lowers her voice again. “I’m not looking for a man, and if I were, I wouldn’t choose Trevor. I’m not like you, spreading my legs for every cute boy in the room.”

It was a bit too far, to be honest, and Honey apologized shortly after. They’re back to bickering like sisters, annoyed by the other but not enough for it to be a real argument. They easily could’ve ran into “real argument” territory with Honey’s comment and Bea’s pushing, but neither girl felt like that was necessary.

They’re better when they’re not fighting, anyway.

They’re kind of fighting anyway.

Honey gets to work doing her own thing– restocking shelves, checking customers out at the counter when Ada waves her over, while Bea talks to the customers as they shop. When she’s not talking to customers, she’s sitting in the back, typing out little messages on her phone. 

It’s suspicious, the way Bea went from rarely texting anybody to suddenly texting all the time. She’s more of a voice note kind of girl, so Honey has gotten used to hearing her record messages for her sisters and cousins, often vulgar and rarely edited. She goes off on tangents often, she yells into her phone whilst sitting in traffic, and yet lately, she’s been putting her thumbs to use. It’s weird.

Hours pass and Honey notices Bea on her phone often throughout the day, usually accompanied by a quick glance up to see who’s around her. If Honey didn’t know any better, she’d say that Bea is watching her movements to make sure she doesn’t creep up behind her.

It doesn’t matter, she decides. Bea can be cryptic all she wants. Honey doesn’t care about what she’s saying or who she’s talking to.

That’s a lie. She’s been fantasizing since lunchtime that Bea found a new boy to talk to over the summer, and she’ll relinquish her grip on her Slut Summer plans, and Honey will be free to ignore Trevor and his goons as long as possible. He will never be a thought in her head again.

Until the next time he shows up out of nowhere, she grumbles to herself. He’s making it so hard to forget that he even exists. She narrows her eyes at the mere thought of him. Trevor.

And the boys have a real knack for showing up out of nowhere, because as they’re closing down the shop for the night, literally right as Honey approaches the door to flip the door sign from “Open” to “Closed,” Quinn appears.

He waves awkwardly at Honey when she approaches the door, both of them reaching for the door handle at the same time. He laughs sheepishly and pulls his hand back, tucking it into his pockets with a soft smile. 

Honey opens the door. “Hi, Quinn,” she greets. Her heart feels like mush. He’s sweet and lame, but in a more mature and embarrassed way than Cole’s blatant lameness. Bea made a good choice for her first conquest. “We’re closing for the day.”

“That’s okay,” Quinn replies easily. His eyes are lit up by the lamplight to Honey’s right. “I was just hoping to talk to Bea.”

Honey’s eyes are drawn down by the soft curves of Quinn’s lips. She curses herself for a moment. She’d trade Trevor for Quinn any day, but she’s sure he invoked some sort of bro-code hands-off thing. Not that she cares. 

“Yeah,” Honey says with a nod. “She’s in the back. Come on in.” She steps away from the door and holds it open for Quinn.

He walks in, shaking his arms out as he enters the cool bookstore. He’s wearing a hoodie, but he had pushed the sleeves up due to the humid heat outside. The sleeves fall past his wrist and neatly curve under his fingers. 

Honey gestures for him to stand near the register. “I’ll go get her.” She retreats into the back, where Bea is slicing a blackberry pie into two, planning to transfer hers and Honey’s halves to a tupperware. She’s startled when she looks up to see Honey standing there with a smile on her face. 

“What?” Bea whispers, skeptical. “I wasn’t going to take the bigger half this time, I swear.”

“There’s a suitor at the door,” Honey simpers with a knowing smile. “He’s come to court.” Her voice slips into a British mockery, knowing that Bea had just started Bridgerton’s newest season. 

“Which one?” Bea asks, eager and bright. She puts the knife down and licks her fingers clean.

“Anthony,” Honey reveals, giggling. 

Bea gasps, her hand flying to her mouth and covering her lips. “You’re kidding,” she giggles back, grinning like a schoolgirl behind her fingers. She brushes her hair out of her face and bites her lip, repeating “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Honey tells her. “He’s at the register, waiting for you.”

Bea bounces on her toes, smoothing out her outfit. The orange skirt makes her sort of glow. Honey’s eyes soften as she watches her best friend. There is no one in this world like Bea. You can never hate her or be angry at her for long because she’s like sunshine. 

“Will you go? I’ll put your half of the pie in my fridge and reheat it for you tomorrow. I have a feeling you’ll be needing me to bring you breakfast in the morning.” Honey smirks at Bea, still laughing a little to herself. “Do you want me to open the store, too?”

Bea blushes, her tongue poking through her teeth. “Would you?” She teases, considering it. “I’ll text you, yeah? I should know what kind of encounter this is, and how we should proceed, in about thirty minutes. Thank you, Honeybear.”

“Of course,” Honey agrees with a smile, walking forward to take Bea’s place. As Bea walks away, Honey calls, “Hey.”

Bea turns, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “What?”

“I guess he’s not mad at you,” Honey replies with a final laugh at the finger guns Bea shoots at her before she walks away. 

She hears the door jingle open and closed five minutes later, after she’s split the pies and packed them into her bag. She fiddles around the kitchen a little longer, making sure to give them a head start before finishing up in the main room. 

She straightens a few books on a few carts, sorting a few books onto a different cart. 

Finally, she walks to the door. She pulls it shut and locks it behind her, walking the short distance to her car. She drives home in silence, listening to the wind whistle through her windows. 

She enters her home with a one-handed turn of her key, slamming the door behind her with a kick of her foot. She puts their food away, then decides to take hers to bed and eat it while reading. She grabs a fork on the way out of her kitchen, turning out the lights with her elbow as she walks. 

She enters her bedroom and navigates in the dark until she finds her lamp and flicks it on. The room fills with soft light and she settles into her bed, balancing her plate on her thigh as she reads against her bent knee. Honey raises the fork to her mouth as carefully as she can until she’s finished a slice of her dessert. 

She puts the plate away and tosses her book down to the end of her bed, leaning over to turn off her lamp. She barely touches it for the thousandth night in a row, swinging wildly to reach it. She settles against her pillow, snuggling in.

She waits. And waits. And waits, but her eyelids never grow heavy. Fuck. Her phone lights up with a text from Bea, so she gets up to read it: “So….. can you open the store for me tomorrow?” with a picture of Quinn’s legs extended next to her on the couch, stretched toward the ottoman. His thumb is rubbing over Bea’s knee in the live version of the picture. 

Honey’s stomach flips. Fuck. That can’t be what she was missing.

But immediately, as Honey watches Quinn’s thumb move over Bea’s skin, she gasps at the idea of a heavy, warm body behind her, ready to touch her in the same way. 

She cringes, exits away from the message, choosing not to respond. Of course she will. Of course she’ll open the store for Bea, she doesn’t need to confirm. She just needs to get away from that picture and the things she shouldn’t be thinking about. This is dangerous. Honey’s not looking for this. She’s fine on her own. 

Yeah, she’s fine on her own. Honey nods to herself, eyes wide as she readjusts under the covers. Her bed is just big enough for her to stretch out her limbs. She’d have to squeeze if there was another body here. It was fine when it was her and Bea for that year, but a man? He’d never fit. He’d have to hold Honey in place to keep from pushing her off the bed. She’d have to– God, feel another person against her all night. Ugh. 

But it’s a little appealing, if the man behind her pulls her tight against his front and nudges her neck before he kisses it with his perfect, tan, delicately curved nose–

Nope. Honey shakes the image away, opening her eyes to observe the still aloneness next to her on the mattress. She clears her throat and physically shakes her head. She closes her eyes again and focuses on the blackness behind her eyelids until she finally, mercilessly falls asleep.

She’s not looking for that.

11:90 – TREVOR

Today brings a huge challenge to Trevor and plops it at his feet like a dog spitting out a bird. The challenge is helpless and sad. He stares at it for minutes, hearing the seconds from the clock on his mantle nearby tick away. 

He has to return his library book today. He finished it last night in the game room while Cole chased Luke around with his own pool cue. Luke was surprisingly agile and able to escape upstairs without getting hit once. 

Trevor came out of his trance with a knock to his bedroom door.

“Get up!” Jack pesters. “Going to store! More beer! More fire! More tarts for you to bake!” He continues to pound on Trevor’s door with each word. His shouts are like a caveman’s, annoying and short. He must’ve watched that episode of the Office where Kevin shortens his sentence over breakfast this morning. Why say long word when short word do trick? or whatever.

Trevor grabs his book, feeling like it’s burning his hand. It’s like an anvil in his palm. He wrenches the door open mid pound and Jack stumbles into him. He whacks him over the head with the book. 

“I told you I was up,” he reminds Jack. “I just had to grab something before we left.” He holds the book away from Jack when he tries to snatch it.

Jack reaches for it anyway, playing the game, clawing at Trevor’s arm. He struggles out, “Now that you’ve given up on wooing Honey, maybe I want to be the one to give her a visit.” He manages to snatch at Trevor’s book one last time before it turns into a weapon and beats him away. Eventually, Jack surrenders and Trevor stalks away, starting the car and locking the doors so Jack can’t get in for the next minute. 

Luke giggles in the front seat, videoing Jack on his Snapchat through the passenger side window. Trevor watches Jack glare at Trevor through the phone screen while he pulls on the doorhandle, shaking it over and over and yelling at Trevor to unlock the door. 

Bea giggles in the backseat, perched mostly on Quinn’s lap, Cole’s arm pushed dangerously far away by Quinn’s elbow. Bea shakes her hair back into Cole’s face and he crinkles his nose, sad that he’s in the middle seat. 

“I hate it when we all ride in one car,” Cole grumbles under his breath, trying to breathe through Bea’s ponytail. He reaches over and kicks the door open for Jack, more aggressive than necessary. 

“Chill out, Sweetie,” Bea teases, leaning over to press a lipgloss-kiss onto Cole’s cheek. “You’re more eco-friendly this way. Big rich boy doesn’t care about the environment?” She faux-pouts at him and Cole makes a face at her. 

“Airlines hate him,” Quinn jokes quietly in Bea’s ear, causing her to howl and clutch at his chest. Quinn smiles, proud of himself.

Trevor speeds all the way to the town center, glaring at Bea and making Quinn hold onto her so she doesn’t spill into Cole’s lap. He hopes she’s getting carsick. She’s the reason he had to stop pursuing Honey. She ruined everything.

And, because Trevor is full of good fortune lately, Bea takes his hand and flounces toward The Reading Nook with him in tow. She waves at Quinn as they walk away, and laughs when he whistles. 

“Didn’t you wear those clothes yesterday?” Trevor spits out, walking faster than her.

“Jealous you can’t get laid?” Bea retorts, succeeding in snatching the book from Trevor’s grasp in a way Jack didn’t. They come to a stop a hundred feet from The Reading Nook. Bea plants her hands on her hips and heaves out a breath at Trevor.

“You fucked me over,” Trevor accuses. He stifles his temper, pushing it down. “Like… really, Bea?”

“I thought she would find your effort cute,” Bea explains. “And I thought she would go, because she loves to bake. And watch you struggle.”

“Well, it didn’t, and now I have no chance.”

Bea scoffs and shoves his book back to him. “You know what? Good luck in there. Let’s see if you’re right.” She stomps to the store and holds the door open for Trevor “Come on in.”

The Reading Nook has barely opened, so the only person there is a doe-eyed Honey, startled, behind the counter. She’s holding a book in front of her, on its final pages.  She stares at the open doorway, monitors Trevor’s movements as he approaches. Her lips are slightly parted and it looks like she might even be chewing some gum.

The book tilts down as Trevor comes to a stop in front of her. Her pupils grow behind her eyelashes. Trevor blames it on the shadow he cast on her face when he stood in front of the light. 

Trevor clears his throat and inches his book between her elbows, patting both hands on the bottom edges of the cover. He watches himself do it, centering the book perfectly. Then, he looks up into Honey’s eyes. 

He lathers on his best charm and says with a smile, “I’m here to return my book.”

Honey stares at him, quirking an eyebrow.

Trevor continues, voice soft and prodding, “See? I can be good, you didn’t have to chase me down.”

Honey blinks up at him, then breathes out a high laugh. She covers her mouth as it grows louder, muffling it as much as she can. “Oh my God,” she marvels, hand shaking as she places her index finger on the tip of her nose. “Is that how you treat your girls in California? Do they fall for that?”

Trevor’s smile drops and he glares at her. “Thanks. Can you point me in the direction of another book? I want to check out Alexander and the No Good, Terrible, Very Bad Day, please. I need to plagiarize it but change Alexander’s name to Trevor.”

He pushes the book towards her and she flinches back, offense splashing across her face at the movement. Trevor clenches his jaw and steps away. He watches her face sour, growing deadly.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to take it out on me,” Honey snaps back. 

Trevor just scoffs and shakes his head and leaves the store. Bea never stopped holding the door, but she makes sure to slam it behind him in celebration. 

Is it that fucking laughable? His affection is something to make fun of, something to tease. It’s obvious. He really never stood a chance.

When they go to the golf course later, Trevor drills the ball farther than he’s ever driven it before.

12:90 – HONEY

It’s National Chocolate Ice Cream and National Donut Days. Honey promised Jack she’d bring donuts to the house tonight. 

She doesn’t want to. She really doesn’t want to see Trevor. She pales at the fact that she was ready to be nice to him until he turned against her. It was disgusting, the way his eyes rolled in annoyance. 

But she made a promise to Jack, and she likes to be with Cole, and Quinn is a sweet guy, so it can’t be that bad. It can’t be. She’ll hang out with them, maybe even get to know Luke. Bea can come, and probably fuck Quinn again, ask him if she can put his dick through the donut hole. 

That makes Honey laugh enough to push away the panic that comes with seeing that version of Trevor again. He was like– an entitled rich boy, very… West Coast surfer bro. It makes her shudder. She doesn’t want to see that again. 

It makes her think of the look her father gave her after she handed him the last check for the mountain house. He was protecting himself. He couldn’t show her he was sad. Bea insists that he was, that he couldn’t be that apathetic. Honey wishes desperately for that to be true.

She opens her eyes, staring at herself in the vanity mirror in Bea’s bedroom. She lifts her chin and takes a deep breath, evaluating the gold eyeliner Bea coated on her waterline, into a neat little cat-ear. She shakes her hair out, watching it catch the light, and clears her throat.

“You okay over there?” Bea asks, adjusting the pastel yellow strapless maxi dress on her chest. “You look rattled.”

“It’s nothing,” Honey deflects. 

“Baby-Honey, you haven’t been yourself since Quinn and I left the Nook the other night,” Bea muses, walking to stand behind Honey and run her fingers through her hair. “What’s up?”

Honey shakes her head again, causing Bea to pull back. Honey stands. She plasters a smile on her face and makes eye contact with Bea. “Absolutely nothing,” she chirps. “Let’s go.”

She’s struck by how different her outfit is than Bea’s. Her best friend is in a dress with cute clogs, earrings in her pierced holes and everything. Honey’s got on a homemade muscle tee, sleeves ripped off after cutting a small hole and a faded Nascar graphic on the front. You can’t even read the number anymore. The car could be 15, 16, 18, 19… she doesn’t know. She’s wearing those little biking shorts under the tee- barely peeking out due to its length. She looks like a slob. Bea looks regal.

Good. Why would Honey really need to impress anyone? She’s even only wearing this makeup because Bea wanted to try out her new palette. Honey has no one to impress.

Not fucking dipshit, angry Trevor, that’s for sure.

She grabs the box of donuts from Bea’s counter and stomps out to the car, biting her tongue so she doesn’t jostle the donuts too much as she holds the dozen with one hand and opens the door with the other. 

It’s Honey’s car, but Bea drives there, cradling the new bottle of red wine that she picked up at the liquor store before it closed for the evening like a baby. “It pairs well with chocolate,�� Bea explained to Honey when she first revealed it.

They drive to the house with the windows up, one of Bea’s cutesy new girl-pop songs on the radio. She sings quietly and Honey smiles as her friend enjoys herself. Eventually, she picks up on the chorus and begins to sing along. Bea puts it on repeat and they sing together, up until they pull into the driveway and Bea turns the car off, drawing the key out of the ignition. She hands the key to Honey, who drops it in her purse. 

She adjusts the bralette beneath her muscle tee, then grabs the donut box and follows Bea into the house.

The wood isn’t any less jarring the second time. The boys have also never heard of mood lighting before, since each switch is set to its brightest setting. Honey squints into the brightness. Someone peeks out of the kitchen at the sound of the door opening and shutting and Honey is relieved to see that it’s Quinn. He waves them over.

Bea flutters over like a butterfly, kissing Quinn on the cheek as Honey turns the corner. She places the donuts on the counter near the island, across from Cole and Jack. Trevor is on the other end of the counter, the third seat down. She makes sure to place it out of his reach.

“I brought wine,” Bea tells Quinn, handing him the bottle. She starts to open drawers and rifle around for a bottle opener. 

Honey finds it on the counter and waves it at Bea, catching her attention with a whistle. She tosses it to the girl, Bea catching it with both hands and grinning like she’d won an egg toss. 

“Who wants some?” Bea asks. “We have to kill this bottle in record time.”

“Record time? Who needs that,” Jack laughs. “We should make a game out of it. Spin the bottle? Truth or dare?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Okay, Rom-Com,” Bea laughs. “You think that’s such a good idea?” 

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Jack says. “I think we all need to bond more, and playing a game is one of the best ways to bond.”

“Hmm,” Bea hums, tapping her finger against her chin. She turns toward Quinn and scrunches her nose at him. “It couldn’t hurt?”

“No.” He leans down and pecks her lips. “Could be fun for you.”

“What should we play?” Bea asks, turning back to Jack. She takes a few steps back, until she’s wrapped up in Quinn’s arms with her back plastered against his chest. 

“Just Truth or Dare, probably. And if you don’t want to do your thing, then you can drink from the bottle. When we finish the bottle, we can have a little Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Jack shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but it’s clear that he thought this out.

Bea and Honey look to each other. “So frat,” Bea says knowingly as Honey grumbles, “Spin the rapist.”

Bea reacts to Honey’s comment and snorts out a laugh, shaking her head at the reference. 13 Going on 30 has been Honey’s favorite rom-com for years, since they first watched it when they were teens. The impact Billy Joel’s Vienna had on Honey since first watching the film is unquantifiable. 

“Okay, Jack,” Bea decides. “In that case, you get to go first. Truth or Dare?”

“Obviously dare,” Jack laughs out. 

Honey stifles a giggle as Cole rolls his eyes and finally opens the box of donuts, looking at each of them before choosing one. She joins him on that side of the counter, able to watch Bea and Quinn cuddle up to each other and fortunately removing Trevor from her line of sight.

“Strawberry with sprinkles, huh?” Honey asks. “I didn’t peg you as a pink boy.”

“I love pink,” Cole replies through a mouthful of donut. “Hi, Barbie, and all that. Trev made some good tarts the other day that were strawberry, too.”

Honey chuckles, then chooses her own donut– a caramel one with brownie crumbles on the top. She had asked Mark, the man who runs the small bakery near The Reading Nook, for an assorted dozen and he had given her some of his best work for the price of a plain glazed dozen. If she had revealed that the extras would probably go to the boys’ house, Mark likely wouldn’t have given her that discount. 

He likes his beers, and the boys keep buying up pack after pack from the grocery store, and Mark is left with the scraps. He told Honey that he’s looking forward to the end of the summer, when he’s the only man showing up at the store twice a week to get his beer. They restock it just for him.

That’s not to say he’s the only man in the town that drinks, but he’s the man who has the most opinions about different kinds of beer and how it’s made– a funny trait for someone who works with wheat and flour just as often as a beermaster.

“I dare you…” Bea trails off, tapping her index finger to her lips and looking around the room. She spots a broom hanging near the laundry room, a little offset from the kitchen. She points to it. “Oooh, you have to give us a little sexy pole dance around that thing.”

Quinn laughs into Bea’s hair at her dare, watching carefully as Jack looks between the broom and the wine bottle. Eventually, he shrugs. 

“Yeah, why not?” Jack agrees, pushing away from the counter and grabbing the broom off the wall. He holds it out in front of him and evaluates it, the bristles pushing against the floor. “Huh. This would be easier if I had music.”

Luke laughs quietly. He crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrows at Jack, waiting to see how this plays out. 

“I don’t really want to see this,” Honey whispers to Cole, a joking tone in her voice.

“Oh, but how can you look away?” Cole asks, taking another bite of his donut. “It’s like a car wreck.”

“It really is,” Honey agrees, laughing as Jack starts to circle the broom, then howling along with the rest of the room when he drops low and spreads his knees, bucking his hips forward.

“That’s enough,” Cole exclaims, holding his stomach and laughing so hard that he’s almost bent at the waist. His forehead almost rests on the counter. 

Honey pats him on the back, rubbing his shoulder as it shakes.

She catches Trevor’s eyes over Cole’s back, over Jack’s abandoned seat. They’re dark and she notices that his own laughter has stopped. She pulls her hand away from Cole and takes a step back, putting distance between them like she’s been burned. 

Trevor blinks, then looks away.

Honey suddenly realizes that he hasn’t said anything since she and Bea got here. Her lips part to say something– what, she’s not sure– but she changes her mind and looks away.

She’s not the only one who’s noticed, though.

“Z,” Jack says, hanging the broom back up on the wall. “Truth or Dare?”

“I’ll take a dare too, I guess,” Trevor says.

Jack smiles, devilishly. His eyes turn to Honey and for a moment, her heart stops as she thinks of all the things Jack could make Trevor do– all the things that she’s sure involve her. She shakes her head and looks away, missing the way Jack’s smile deflates and Trevor’s jaw clenches.

“You gotta give Cole a foot massage, my friend,” Jack decides, clasping his hands together. 

Cole fist pumps, kicking off his house shoes. “This is the best day ever,” Cole says. “I get donuts and a foot massage?” He raises his leg, pointing his toes and reaching out towards Trevor with them.

“Get that away from me,” Trevor snaps, leaning back in his chair as Cole’s foot begins to encroach on his personal space. “Let me see that wine.”

Luke passes him the bottle and Bea tosses him the bottle opener, which she was still holding onto. Honey thinks she had the full intention of opening it herself, but she’s too comfortable in Quinn’s arms to move at the moment.

Ew.

Trevor pulls the cork from the bottle deftly and drinks straight from the spout, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Honey watches it move. When he wrenches the bottle away, his bottom lip is stained purple. Honey feels her eyes go wide, but she manages to school her face before anyone notices.

Hopefully.

“Bea,” Trevor says.

“Hmm,” Bea hums in acknowledgement, looking at the hair on Quinn’s arms wrapped around her chest.

“Truth or Dare?”

“I’ll dare,” Bea decides.

“Let Quinn go through your phone for a minute,” Trevor says.

“A minute?” Bea laughs. “He won’t be able to do anything on there.” She dips her hand into the waistband of her top, just under her armpit, and digs out her phone. She hands it over to Quinn after unlocking it.

He scrolls along, holding the screen out in front of Bea so that she can see what he’s doing. They laugh about something, she cringes at something else, and Quinn kisses her cheek when she blushes. He shuts the phone off after a minute, true to the dare, and slides it into his back pocket. One of his hands makes its way to her hip, crossing over her stomach to rest there. The other remains across her shoulder, sweeping along her collarbones and holding her flush against him.

“Q,” Bea sighs. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” he says into her ear, voice low.

“What’s the worst thing you would do if you became invisible for a day?” Bea asks. “Like the most corrupt thing. I find it hard to believe you have a bad bone in your body.” She pushes her hips back, quirking her eyebrows as she does. 

Honey notices that Jack’s drinking her in, like her wiggling hips are a show for him.

“That’s a good question,” Quinn says, both hands flush on Bea’s hips now, dragging her movement to a stop. “I don’t know. It’s not bad, really, but I’d probably just blow off all my responsibilities and go out on the boat for the day. Drive myself around a bit, have lunch under the sun.” He shrugs. “Not think about hockey for a few hours.”

Bea pats his chest and tilts her head up to kiss the corner of his jaw. “You’re very dangerous, Quinn.”

“Very,” Quinn agrees. “So now it’s my turn to pick?”

“Yeah,” Bea says. “Don’t act like you don’t know how to play the game. You’re not that sheltered from the world. You had a life outside of hockey.”

Honey wonders when they had all this time to talk about hockey. She guesses it was some kind of pillow talk, knowing how Bea operates, trying to keep her man talking into the early hours of the morning. She always has so many questions and wants to know everything about everyone.

“Lukey, Truth or Dare?” Quinn asks.

Cole shakes his head and nudges Honey’s shoulder. “Always picked last, you and me, huh?”

Honey smiles at him and rolls her eyes.

Luke decides on truth as well, just like his oldest brother. Of course he does. Honey hasn’t seen much from Luke, but it’s obvious he’s not a “dare” kind of guy. At least, not while she and Bea are there. Maybe he’s more outgoing when it’s just him and the boys.

“Okay, be honest,” Quinn reminds Luke with a smile and a shared look at Jack. “What did you and that girl do last summer when you went upstairs and locked yourselves in Mom and Dad’s room?”

Honey’s jaw drops, mirroring the expression on Bea’s face. The rest of the boys break out in laughter, especially Jack.

“Yeah, Lukey,” Jack teases. “First, second, or third?”

Luke blushes to the roots of his hair and opens his mouth multiple times, with nothing coming out.

“Don’t tell me you went all the way to home base,” Quinn adds, his smile wide and wolfish. “In Mom and Dad’s bed?”

Luke looks absolutely tormented, miserable at the question. Honey can tell that they’ve been ragging on him about this since it happened and he’s desperately trying to maintain his dignity.

“Have a sip of the wine, Luke,” Honey comforts him. “You don’t need to be the guy who kisses and tells.”

Luke nods, sheepish and red to the tips of his ears, reaching forward to take the wine bottle from in front of Trevor. 

The boys boo and try to cajole him into revealing rather than drinking, and Honey for that matter for her role in the turn of events, but Bea shushes them with a finger to her lips. 

“You’re all acting like cavemen,” Bea admonishes. She turns to Luke. “I think it’s sweet that you’re keeping your private matters to yourself. That’s very respectful of yourself and the girl. Good job, Lukey.”

Honey smiles and giggles when Luke blushes red again and takes another sip of the wine after quietly stammering out a “Thank you.” He clears his throat and rubs a hand through his curls, making them messier than before. “Cole?”

Honey’s not even surprised that he doesn’t pick her or Bea. She wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t even look at them without blushing again. 

It was unfair for the boys to bring up the past, especially since he doesn’t want to share.

“Dare, buddy,” Cole replies, cool and confident. His cheeks are dimpling as he waits for Luke to think of a dare.

“You should eat the rest of your donut out of someone’s mouth,” Luke suggests. 

“Whose?” Cole asks, waving the last few bites out to everyone. “Bea?”

“Honey,” Jack corrects with a glance at Trevor.

Honey puts her hands up in front of her and she and Bea open their mouths at the same time, but Trevor beats them to it.

“She’s allergic to strawberry,” Trevor states. His voice is hard. “She can’t do the dare with Cole.”

“Why don’t you do it, Jack?” Bea asks. “Since you’re so willing to volunteer others for the job. Why not volunteer yourself?”

“Cuz I don’t want to Lady and the Tramp with Cole,” Jack replies, making a face. 

Honey doesn’t really like how Trevor jumped in and corrected Jack like she wasn’t even in the room with them. “I can do it,” she decides. “But we just have to finish my donut instead.”

“Yes!” Cole celebrates, raising his hand to high five Honey. “You and me, dude!”

Honey lets out a little laugh at that, raising her hand to slap it against Cole’s. She bites down on the end of her donut, holding most of it out far enough for Cole to take it between his teeth. He’s not going to kiss her or anything. Honey just has a feeling in her gut that Cole isn’t the kind to take advantage of a situation like that, and plus, she and Cole have a friendlier relationship. He has to understand that.

Honey looks over his shoulder at Trevor, who is watching her with steely eyes. He’s rigid in his seat. He doesn’t understand, not in the way Honey and Cole do. 

He takes in a deep breath, pinching his lips shut as Cole leans closer to Honey, taking a good ¾ of the last of her donut before pulling away. The dough rips in a weird way, leaving a bite dangling from the right side of his mouth. He smiles wide and gives Honey another high five. Trevor lets out a breath when Cole leans back in his chair and finishes chewing Honey’s donut. 

“Mm, that’s good,” Cole tells her. “What flavor was that?”

“Caramel with brownie,” Honey says, chewing her own bite. 

Cole nods in approval. “Can’t leave my buddy hanging,” he says. “Truth or Dare, Honey?”

“I’ll do a dare too,” Honey says. It’s an easy choice. She loves a good truth, but almost everyone has done dare, and she’s never one to back down from a challenge.

It seemed like a safe choice too, with Cole choosing what Honey is supposed to do. Until he opens his stupid mouth.

“I’m gonna pull out our whipped cream bottle and I think you’re gonna have to lick it off someone,” Cole announces, jumping down from his perch behind the counter and rounding the island to the fridge. He pulls out the red can and shakes it, uncapping it. 

Honey watches, knowing exactly her luck, as Cole points from man to man saying “Eeny, Meeny, Miney… Mo.” His finger, and the nozzle of the whipped cream can, land on Trevor. “Shirt off, Z.” Cole lifts the whipped cream bottle to his mouth and sprays a little bit onto his tongue. 

Honey feels frozen. Her feet are stuck in cement at the corner of the island and she eventually has to put her hand on the counter to ground herself. Her eyes flicker to Bea’s, wide like cornered prey. Bea meets her there. 

In that split second, it’s like they have a conversation. Honey can’t describe the thoughts that fly between them, given how quick they pass. 

With a slight shrug of one shoulder, Bea leaves it up to Honey. She could end it, take a sip of the wine if that’s what she wants. Honey isn’t even sure what she wants to do. She doesn’t– she doesn’t.– want to lick whipped cream off of Trevor. She doesn’t want her tongue to be that close to his body.

And yet, she finds herself nodding when she meets Trevor’s eyes. He waits until she does to pull off his shirt, revealing skin that makes Honey feel even more sluggish. She takes a moment to drink in his tan skin, adorned with his tattoos on his arms. Her eyes zero in on the delicate words on his ribs and she feels her lips part in surprise. Her fingers twitch at her sides, begging to reach out and trace over the script.

NO.

Not Trevor.

Yes, Trevor.

“I have a vision,” Cole announces, pulling Honey from her thoughts. He takes Honey’s hand and pulls her over towards the inside of the island. “Hop up.”

She follows his directions, skin crawling with anticipation for what’s coming next. She can’t believe she agreed to do this– with Trevor. With Trevor. The skin is cool against the tops of her thighs and she’s very aware of the way her muscle tee falls around her waist and reveals the edge of her bralette, and the skin around her middle. She clenches her fists as much as she can, fingers rounded around the edge of the counter. She doesn’t want to seem freaked out. She’s not going to be the girl who messes up the game and doesn’t go through with their dare.

Cole nudges the whipped cream can against one of her hands until she turns it over and takes it, feeling the cool aluminum in her hand. “Z, come stand in front of her.”

Honey hears him, refusing to turn around and look at him as he gets down from his chair and make his way over to Honey. She hears the movements loud as day, like there’s nothing else in the room except Trevor and her racing heart.

Trevor stations himself between Honey’s knees, resting his hands on either side of her legs. Her eyes are level with his here, on the counter, and she tries to ignore the thrill that his proximity sends down her spine.

“Alright.” Cole claps his hands and smiles. “You ready, Honey?”

Honey turns her head and takes a sharp inhale. “Yeah.”

She keeps her words short so her voice doesn’t shake.

“Why don’t you put some whipped cream on his collarbones for me, yeah?”

Bea’s mouth drops at Cole’s words, still in Quinn’s grasp. Honey has to stifle a giggle at her reaction. 

Honey presses her lips together and refocuses, hand shaking as she brings the can up to Trevor’s clavicles, startling herself at the sound when she pushes the trigger down to release the whip. She makes a tiny squeak, an embarrassing noise that has her closing her eyes. 

Trevor’s thumb moves closer and nudges her thigh.

Honey looks up, her eyes meeting his. Her breath is caught in her throat. His eyes are no longer steely and guarded. They’re soft and they’re searching her eyes for something. 

His thumb starts to move against her skin and she jumps, wrenching her eyes away from Trevor’s and quickly spreading another line of whipped cream on his other collarbone. She’d do anything to be able to ignore the pit in her stomach and the heat that is very rapidly filling it.

She turns to Cole, holding the can out to him. 

Cole raises his eyebrows. He raises his hands. “You’re not done yet.”

Bea twists in Quinn’s arms, staring up at him with an affronted, offended, betrayed look on her face. Honey can tell exactly what she wants to scream: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Honey’s jaw drops a little, then she clenches her jaw and takes the can back, cradling it on her thigh. It leaves a round circle when she picks it up again.

“From his belly button to his sternum.” Cole’s voice is hard and definite, but not mean. Honey wonders how long he’s been thinking about this, probably doing it at Trevor’s bidding. The only problem is, Trevor looked just as unaware as her and Bea. Just as unaware as the other boys– at least, the two in front of her.

Honey takes it back. Cole is her least favorite.

She sprays the whipped cream, grinding her teeth as she sees Trevor’s stomach muscles jump at the sensation. His hand comes to the top of her thigh, index finger tracing the ring of the can. Honey’s not even sure that he’s breathing. She’s not sure she is, either.

“His nipples,” Cole commands with a cheeky smile, looking past Honey and Trevor to Jack.

Honey whips her head around and looks at the other boy, smirking at Cole. He makes eye contact with Honey and raises his eyebrows, wiggling them like a devil. She almost wants to throw the can of whip at him, then pounce on Cole and take out his knees.

She scowls and dispenses a small amount of whip on each of Trevor’s nipples. He hisses at the cold and she looks up to check on him without a thought, only realizing what she’s done when his eyes meet hers.

“It’s fine,” Trevor breathes out. “Just cold.”

“Okay,” Honey replies, hoping he could even hear her. The statement might’ve died in the air between them and never reached his ears.

The can of whip starts to sputter like it’s running out, so Honey gives it a shake. She goes to set it down on the counter next to her, but Cole stops her again.

She’s going to break every single one of his fingers.

“One more,” Cole says with a nod and a lick of his lips. “Open up, Trev.”

“No,” Honey forces out. She’s just as taken aback by the word as Cole is– her refusal cut through the air like it was broadcast through the bluetooth speakers that run through the home. She takes a shaky deep breath, pushing away the image of her licking into Trevor’s mouth to get her final mouthful of whip. “Sorry. No.”

She refuses to look Trevor in the eye after that.

“That’s okay,” Cole says. He shrugs, not deterred. “His nose. Just the tip. Like Rudolph.”

That, Honey can do.

She uses the last little bit to cover the tip of Trevor’s nose, focusing on the line of his nose and the recently shaved skin above his top lip instead of the eyes that she can feel are boring into her face.

Finally, she sets the empty can down with a rattle and flicks her hair over her shoulder, facing Cole.

“Can I go?” She asks, hoping she sounds sassy and bored rather than freaked out, like how she is on the inside. She feels like her brain is on fire, completely fried and burning from the inside out. Her heart is pounding loud in her ears and her cheeks are stained red. 

“Start in the middle, then go down. Lick it off his nose last.”

Honey closes her eyes to calm herself, but she hears a slap of a hand against skin. She can only imagine that Bea reached out and slapped Cole’s arm– the yelp from the blonde and soft laugh from Quinn being tell-tale signs while Honey breathes. 

Trevor’s hand drops from her thigh and he takes a step back, putting a little space between them. 

Honey’s eyes snap open and they flash at Trevor’s. Where hers were once panicked and his were seeking, they seem to have completely switched roles now. Trevor’s fingertips still touch the counter next to Honey and their absence, but their closeness, feels like frostbite on Honey’s skin. It turns to steam against her fiery cheeks, releasing air into the space between them in time with Honey’s exhale. 

His breath catches in his throat and Honey sees the whipped cream start to drip from his stomach.

In an instant, right as the dollop of cream starts to separate from the rest of its line, Honey finds herself sliding off the counter to her knees to catch it in her mouth.

Her lips slide against Trevor’s skin, the muscles contracting and his happy trail brushing her bottom lip as she mouths over the sticky trail marking Trevor’s stomach. 

She looks up, up to Trevor’s face. He’s already looking at her with nothing but shock on his face, his mouth open and his eyes wild. His chest is heaving, trembling between breaths. 

Oh my God.

Honey’s gaze drops back to his skin, then finds that unbearable to look at as she rises up to his sternum. She can make out edges of the script on his ribs in her peripheral vision and squeezes her eyelids shut. She quickly realizes that she can’t navigate up Trevor’s body on feel alone. She has to look. 

Fuck.

She opens her eyes and finishes her path up to his sternum. She carefully licks the whipped cream off Trevor’s nipples, trying not to come into contact with them too much. She can’t just lick Trevor’s nipples. It’s not the same as if…

Trevor was licking whipped cream off of her nipples.

She forces the image away, like she’s spraying an asteroid with a fire extinguisher. 

Honey rises to his collarbones, mouthing over the sharp edges and dipping her tongue inside the pooled skin to get every drop.

She pulls away, barely, aiming to zero in on the dollop on Trevor’s nose, but fails. She finds herself face to face with Trevor, who still has the same expression on his face. His eyebrows are quirked, he can’t stop licking his lips between breaths, and he’s practically vibrating in front of Honey with the ache to stay still.

She suddenly feels fabric under her fingers and looks down, jaw dropping at the sight of her index fingers sneaking under his waistband, nestled snugly like they’ve made a home there. She wrenches them away, clutching the bottom of her muscle tee instead. 

She doesn’t move far, Trevor’s fingers like stone against the skin of her waist. Trevor’s fingers like stone against the skin of her waist. Honey heaves a breath in, stepping away from him and his fingers’ trembling brush against the lace band of her bralette. She gulps.

Trevor’s fingers catch on the bottom edge of her sleeves, or lack thereof, and her shirt ripples against her twisting stomach as the digits fall lamely to his sides. 

Honey knows that her eyes mirror Trevor’s now, matching instead of swapping roles like previously. They’re both wild and racing away from each other in their minds, but unable to look away. They’re tripping over their feet and running like there’s something chasing them, but their eyes are fixed on each others’ like they’re running towards each other in a starry reunion.

Honey wants. She’s overcome with this desire, so much so that she can’t even describe it. She just wants. She aches to go back in time and place the dollop of whipped cream on Trevor’s tongue instead and loses herself for a moment before the panic reminds her:

She’s not looking for that.

“You got a little something there,” Honey says, quiet and ashamed and a bit like the kid who does get picked last every time, reaching up to wipe the whipped cream off Trevor’s nose with her thumb. She licks the white dessert off her own skin, stepping away from Trevor. He’s following her, turning with her as she moves away. His own fingers twitch at his sides, one of his thumbs actually making its way up and hovering over the place where Honey’s index fingers rested on his waistband. 

She looks at Bea, tearing her eyes away from Trevor like a physical rip of a picture. She opens her mouth and locks her eyes with Bea’s, tilting her face so it’s slightly pointed towards the front hall. She chokes back a haggard gasp, feeling her throat start to grow sore with a teary ache.

I need to go. Please. Come with me. Be there for me. Please.

Bea untangles herself from Quinn’s arms, letting them drop to his sides without another thought. She eyes Cole and Jack, gaze piercing and hard, but it softens as it slides back to Honey.

“Goodnight, boys,” she bids, taking Honey’s arm and escorting them both to the door. 

A duet of goodbyes follow them from Quinn and Luke, but the jarring silence that echoes from the kitchen afterward scars Honey while Bea wrenches open the front door. It’s the same silence that surrounds them in Honey’s car.

She shivers in the passenger seat. Bea plucked the keys from Honey’s purse without asking and loaded them in the car, getting behind the wheel. She holds Honey’s hand over the middle console, fingers intertwined and heavy. She drives one-handed, her hair whipping her face. She hates to mess it up. Honey is grateful for the fresh air that chips at her face. It dries up the tear that escapes from the corner of her eye. 

Bea stays over. She cuddles Honey under the covers, clinging to Honey’s arm like a koala. Honey lies on her back and stares at the ceiling for hours. Bea is asleep, or close to it, next to her. The even breaths help her to regulate her own, enough that she can speak.

“It was like–” Honey gasps, pressing a hand to her chest as a breath escapes her like it was punched out. She centers herself. “We were back in Charlotte.”

“I know,” Bea breathes out, eyes still closed. She wraps one of her legs under Honey’s, her knee bent under Honey’s own, and her ankle crossing over Honey’s. 

“I felt– seventeen.”

“I know,” Bea repeats, her eyes fluttering open. Her hand comes up to rest on Honey’s own, monitoring the rise and fall of her own chest. Her heart is slowing and her gulps of air are less frequent. She’s fine.

“I’m not looking for that,” Honey mumbles, shaking the words out of her mouth. 

Bea just takes a deep breath at that, pressing her forehead into Honey’s temple.

“It’s okay if you are.”

Honey’s bottom lip quivers and she starts to leak tears, Bea’s reassurance turning the faucet and making the water flow. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Bea replies. Simple. Easy. No hesitation. Like there’s no other option.

“I came here to leave that behind me.” Honey squeezes her eyes shut, ashamed at the hot trails making their way down to her chin. “Not to, just, repeat it with some guy who’s leaving anyway.”

“Do you really see yourself as someone who’s going to be alone forever?” Bea wipes the tears from Honey’s cheeks with the hand that used to rest on her chest. “You love so hard, Honey. You need someone to give that to. It weighs on you.”

Honey shakes, turning so her body faces Bea’s. She reaches out and buries her face in Bea’s shoulder. 

Bea pets her hair. “He likes you.”

Honey nods.

“You feel– something.”

Honey sniffs, but nods again.

“I think it’s time you turn to face all of that,” Bea teases, her voice soft enough and just a little mocking of Honey’s words, the way only a best friend does when you’re crying into their shoulder. 

Honey pulls her face away and breathes out a little laugh and quirks a shy smile at Bea. She reaches up and pushes her hair away from her face. She wipes under her eyes with both thumbs, shaking the wetness away and laughing for real.

“Elephants are kind of big, huh?” Honey replies, sniffing between giggles. “Hard to ignore?”

Bea nods, tears prickling at the edges of her own eyes. 

The girls stare at each other and giggle, a fresh round of tears staining their cheeks. Honey’s hand slaps at her own chest, knocking at her heart like a concerned parent at a teen’s door. 

Honey can breathe again. She uses her lungs to make her laughs louder, harder. She curls into Bea’s hug, squirming on the bed together. They calm down eventually, and their eyes meet for a final time in the dark.

“I just– Trevor?” Honey giggles. “Really?”

“Love at first sight,” Bea snickers back sarcastically.

Honey waves a finger in Bea’s face. “That’s a little dramatic,” Honey corrects. She scoffs to herself. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Okay,” Bea agrees, shrugging. “Let me know.”

They’re quiet for a minute, smiling at each other. Honey rolls her eyes and turns over, facing the ceiling again. Bea cuddles back into her, latching onto Honey’s arm in her koala-way. 

“I invited them to our lake day tomorrow,” Bea announces just as Honey starts to fall asleep. She nudges her nose against Honey’s bicep. “You can see if you still feel the same way then.”

Honey inhales and holds the breath, eyes opening and focusing on the ceiling again.

Bea’s breaths even out and she falls asleep, but Honey barely manages to close her eyes before the clock flips to the dreaded “tomorrow.”

13:90 – TREVOR

Trevor hasn’t been fully soft since the first moment he stood between Honey’s legs last night. It’s proving to be a problem.

First, she had bolted from the house looking no better than a wild deer in the midst of a hunt, leaving Trevor standing with the ghost of her fingers in his waistband and a cock so hard that he could feel the blood rushing through it. 

Second, Cole and Jack had laughed at him for his very prominent hard-on when the girls left. It was their idea to have this stupid drinking game in the first place, and Cole’s bossiness that had set Trevor up. They had to have planned this out in advance.

Third, the cold shower he took right after Honey left hadn’t even done anything for him. Sure, it had caused his erection to flag briefly, just long enough that he could let out a breath and delude himself into thinking the moment was over.

His biggest problem is that each time he closes his eyes, he’s confronted with the vision of Honey on her knees below him. He can feel her tongue licking up his stomach and chest. He can feel the pressure of her fingertips against his skin.

It’s pure torture. 

Trevor has never felt more torn. He spent all of the last few days believing what Quinn said to him– that he doesn’t have a chance with Honey. He convinced himself to accept that he would only ever be her friend. Other than her dare last night, Honey made no moves to talk to Trevor or acknowledge him at all.

He’s confused. How on Earth can you go from ignoring Trevor to looking up at him, cheeks slightly hollowed as she laps up the whipped cream covering him, as if she were blowing his dick?

Fuck.

Trevor presses his palms to his eyes and leans his head back, causing the rocking chair he’s sitting in to wobble beneath him.

He was barely able to sleep last night and found that fresh air helped, so he sat out on the balcony. He watched the sunrise, barely conscious of the passage of time. He was trapped in an endless loop of Honey, on her knees. Honey, removing the cream from his nipples with a careful touch of her tongue. Honey, mouthing over his collarbones and sliding her fingers into his waistband like she wanted to touch him.

He’s helpless.

Trevor blinks and stares out into the woods, the dew from the morning making the wood of his balcony wet and shimmery. He feels… despondent, really. Like he’s tied to reality by a thin string of dread that accompanies his confusion. 

The fact is, she doesn’t want him. Anyone would’ve gotten lost in the moment. 

He knows that if any of the boys were in his position, they wouldn’t have been better off– Jack would’ve damn near come in his pants, Cole would have giggled because he’s ticklish and still would have found a way to get the girl to kiss him at the end, Luke would’ve frozen and would’ve spent the night in the same spot near the counter, replaying it over and over again. 

Quinn might be the only one left who would have a shred of dignity after a whipped cream encounter, and only because he’s been keeping up with Bea so well.

Ugh, and Bea’s name brings another problem to mind.

Trevor can’t bail on the lake trip that Bea invited them on when she stayed over the other night. The boys have been so excited, so ready to rent out a boat and a wakeboard so they can surf. They’ve been planning the trip meticulously, down to the minute. Trevor knows that he can’t bail because he’s the only one with Bea’s phone number– something she refuses to give out to the other boys, for some fucking reason. She won’t even rattle it off for Quinn to put into his phone– it would make the light night booty calls a little easier, Trevor thinks. 

Not that they’ve had that many. Just the two. Trevor was expecting a third last night, but with the way Honey ran out of the house…

Fuck, it was no surprise Bea went with her.

Honey looked rattled to her core, staring down at her hands and back up at Trevor like she had never seen them, or him, before in her life. She had guarded herself almost immediately, stepping away and flicking the whip off Trevor’s nose rather than licking it off and completing her bet. 

It’s Cole’s fault, and yet Trevor can’t help but feel responsible for the panic in Honey’s eyes and the abrupt end of the night. 

He can’t talk to her today. He can’t sit on the boat and see her in her little swimsuit. He wants her so badly– and not just to see if she really looks that ethereal when her lips are wrapped around his dick. 

He wants to talk about Leaving Orbit with her, the book she recommended that he so clearly enjoyed, even despite his bad mood the other day. He wants to poke fun at the other boys with her, team up to get revenge for that dare that made the air so tense between them. He wants to cuddle up next to her on the couch, pull her into his lap, and watch Shark Week documentaries and the Olympics later in the summer. He wants to hold her hand.

He has never wanted anything like this from any woman before. It’s never been this bad.

But he can’t have it– Trevor can tell that there’s something nagging at Honey. Maybe he’s too similar to an ex-boyfriend, or someone else that she doesn’t have the fondest of feelings for. Maybe she truly believes her little quips about his California lifestyle, and she can’t see herself with someone like that.

God, maybe she looked him up. He’s never had the best attitude on the ice, especially when he gets frustrated. He knows he’s a good player. He wants to show that off. He knows that sometimes, it comes at the expense of his team. He’s heard it all too well from the staff, from his coaches, from his teammates.

He’s dreading today. 

Trevor can’t even hide from it up on the balcony. Yeah, anyone who entered his bedroom wouldn’t be able to see him. His bed is perfectly made up, untouched from the night before. He was so frazzled last night that he cleaned his room, just to regain some order in his life. For all they would know, he disappeared– and yet, Cole manages to spot him below, from the chairs near the fire pit in the yard.

“There you are!” Cole exclaims, brandishing his spoon at Trevor. He looks down at his shorts for a split second. Trevor can only assume a drop of milk from his cereal splashed on his lap. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah, you tried really hard,” Trevor replies, an edge to his voice. He still hasn’t forgiven Cole, or Jack for that matter, for their ploy last night.

Cole’s face falls, then he shakes his head. “Are you ready for the lake or what?” His voice starts to mirror Trevor’s.

“All I need to do is put my fucking swimsuit on,” Trevor snaps. He stands from the rocking chair. 

Somehow, the meanest retort Cole can think of is “Don’t forget to bring your sunscreen!” like a nagging mother who’s just one complaint away from sending her child to his room. His words clash with the slam of Trevor’s sliding door.

Trevor grumbles to himself as he changes into one of the swimsuits he packed for himself, only ever really planning to use it in the hot tub. He’s excited, deep down, that they get to go to the lake and do some of the stuff that they usually do at the Michigan house. God, he can’t shake the Honey problem.

He does pack his sunscreen, the face lotion and body spray that he picked up last week at the grocery store when he and Jack wanted to lay out by the rink and tan. He even grabs the browning lotion he bought for pale ol’ Luke. It smells like bananas and coconuts.

Trudging downstairs, Trevor finds himself back at the scene of the crime. Instead of Honey on the counter, it’s the cooler, and instead of Trevor in front of her, it’s Quinn transferring beers from the fridge.

He chuckles when Trevor stops and stares at the cooler on the counter. 

“Thinking about something?” He asks. Trevor scowls when Quinn’s eyes pointedly drop to Trevor’s crotch and the semi that he’s, once again, sporting.

“Shut up,” Trevor growls, adjusting himself in his swim shorts. He clasps his hands in front of him, shielding himself from Quinn’s knowing smile.

Quinn shrugs and goes back to transferring beers to the cooler. 

Trevor steals a piece of ice and chews it, hoping to cool himself off. He makes himself a little bowl of cereal and scarfs it down. He checks the clock. It’s almost time to leave.

Fuck.

Bea’s picking them up in the truck she’s borrowing from Earl (only because Vera offered it up to them) in ten minutes. She and Honey are going to ride in the cab, while the boys are supposed to ride in the bed of the truck. It’s legal in North Carolina, apparently. Plus, it’s just a fifteen minute drive. The lake isn’t too far from their house. Trevor barely remembers reading about it on the AirBnB website when he booked the rental for the summer, but the host had referred to the place as a “reservoir” rather than a lake. Semantics. They don’t matter. 

He takes a deep breath, still not sure how to feel about seeing Honey again. He answers a couple questions from Quinn about how many beers he wants (a lot), if he has a towel for the lake (no, but Quinn can grab him one from the hall closet), and why he’s sulking so much (he doesn’t want to talk about it).

The minutes drag on and Trevor is scalding his hands with hot water washing his bowl when Bea honks from the driveway. He’s the last to make it to the front door and he’s shocked when he’s whacked in the face by a stray pool noodle. Where did Jack even find that?

Quinn is standing with his arms against the window pane of the passenger door, his head dipped and Bea’s phone in his hand. She takes it from him and says something quietly, then brings her hand to his jaw to draw his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. 

Trevor can see Honey’s silhouette behind the wheel, her hair knotted up on top of her head. There are flyaways everywhere, probably because of the open windows, but somehow it doesn’t look messy. Trevor can’t even see her face, but he has to close his eyes because she’s so pretty. 

He climbs into the truck bed, Quinn following shortly behind him, and tucks himself neatly into the corner of the tailgate. He takes in the other boys– the gray trunks on Cole, the towel around Luke’s neck, Quinn’s terrible navy crocs that he’s had since he was in high school. They kind of don’t fit him anymore, but they’re molded to his feet and he swears that they’re still perfect. Jack is using his pool noodle– origin still undetermined– as a method of recreating a certain Drake video. It would have been more funny if the video weren’t old news by now.

Trevor still kind of feels the string of dread and uncertainty tugging at him, but all of that crumbles away when Honey takes the first curve up the mountain. She speeds up in the old truck, dragging the wheel. Jack falls off the hump of the wheel where he was sitting as she turns, yelping wildly and losing his pool noodle in the fray. Cole snatches it up and takes the chance to hit him with it.

With each curve, it only gets worse. She’s got the boys in a fit of shouts and giggles as they scramble to find purchase in the back of the truck. Bea is laughing from the front seat, turned around to look out the back window, to take in the chaos firsthand. Her left hand is reaching out the window and holds Quinn’s right, keeping him in place.

Trevor’s laughing too, especially when Luke starts to slide into a supine position, his knuckles white with how hard he’s trying to stay upright. He continues to laugh as he looks up, past Bea, and meets Honey’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Her gaze turns from soft to wide and alert in an instant, returning to the road the second she locks eyes with him. He can only imagine his own eyes look the same when he turns to face the peeling paint at the bottom of the truck bed.

They arrive at the reservoir in due time, parking in the lot near the boat rentals. Bea and Quinn take care of that, having called ahead a few days prior to get one of the bigger boats that could fit their entire party. Quinn shells over a few dollars in thanks, the cash seamlessly transitioning to the worker’s hand. 

The employee leads them to a ramp, where a boat not unlike the one they have at the Michigan house is parked. The boys climb on. Jack has reclaimed his pool noodle and has it tucked under his armpits, safely away from Cole’s grubby fingers.

Trevor finds a spot near the front of the boat, knowing that Quinn will want to drive and Bea will want to sit next to him. Or on his lap. Ew. He doesn’t want to see the blatant PDA from the two, but that’s not the only reason he’s strategically choosing his seat. 

Honey’s going to do the same thing– she’s going to stick to Bea’s side, if Trevor’s gut feeling is right, and that’s going to be that. 

He’ll avoid her, she’ll avoid him, and the day will be over before they know it.

Trevor pulls his shirt over his head and lays out on the cushions at the bow of the boat, covering his face with the item of clothing. He blocks out the sun and closes his eyes, feeling the sun prickle at his skin.

“Did you put your sunscreen on?” Cole asks, his annoying voice far too close to Trevor’s ear for his liking. 

Trevor swings out with a hand, hoping to connect and clock Cole on the side of the head, but as he rips the t-shirt from his face, all he sees is the boy jumping back and laughing with the rocking of the boat. 

“Why, do you want to help me?” Trevor retorts, frowning. 

Cole smiles. The edges of his mouth quirk up in a mischievous way and Trevor gears up to snap his shirt at the boy. Whatever’s about to leave his mouth is just going to piss Trevor off more.

He doesn’t say anything, at least not until he’s skipping away towards the back of the boat. Trevor squints at his retreating figure, but relaxes his shoulders a bit. 

“Honey!” Cole calls, dancing around the girl who has only just managed to get both feet on the boat. She watches him move around her, expression impassive. He extends a hand to help Bea onto the boat, to the chagrin of Quinn behind her. 

Trevor’s shoulders snap back up towards his ears, the line of his spine long and tight. He looks around for something to throw at Cole, something harder than just his t-shirt, but there’s nothing.

Cole talks on. “Trevor needs help with his sunscreen and he was asking for you.”

Honey’s gaze turns to Trevor’s expectantly. Her lips are slightly curved and her eyebrows are raised. 

“I wasn’t.” Trevor’s voice comes out strangled. “He’s just– causing trouble. Like yesterday.”

Immediately, he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. He shouldn’t have brought up what happened last night. It causes her lips to press into a thin line and makes her expression grow calculated. She’s scanning him like a robot would and it’s making his skin crawl.

She opens her mouth with a tsk and says, “I’ll do your back if you do mine.”

Cole and Jack hum and haw at that, dapping each other up. Bea finally flounces her way onto the vessel, creating waves and casting a spare look at Trevor. 

“And Cole, you have to do mine,” Bea adds, blinking at the boy innocently. She smiles at him, not quite reaching her eyes. “Since you’re so concerned about sun safety.”

“I’m pale.” Cole shrugs. “Someone has to think about it.”

Bea’s attention has already shifted past Cole’s shoulder. Quinn and Luke have both shrugged off their shirts and twisted their Yankees caps so they’re backwards on their heads. Luke has laid the towel along the swiveling passenger chair behind the raised console in the middle of the boat, blissfully unaware of the five pairs of eyes gawking at him and his brother.

“You’re pale?” Bea asks, incredulous. She points at the Hughes boys. “Look at that.” She fishmouths for a moment before rediscovering her voice. “Quinn, you didn’t look so fair-skinned when I last saw you without a shirt. Luke, you’re like a beacon at a lighthouse!” She turns back to Cole, her finger finding its way to his face. “You, at least, have some pink undertones. You’re made to burn. These guys are made to tan and it’s clear they’ve been neglecting their time in the sun.”

“That’s what I said,” Trevor agrees. He remembers the tanning lotion, sitting in one of his pockets, and digs it out. He waves it in front of Bea’s face, then tosses it to her. “I even brought some tanning lotion for them.”

Bea catches it and her face lights up. She shows Honey the logo on the front of the bottle and grins. “This kind always smells so good,” she praises. “Good choice, Trev.”

She stomps toward the boys, intention written all over her face. Luke’s back is turned to her once again, reverting back to the way it was before she called his name, but Bea views it as a canvas. She clicks open the bottle and gives it a shake, squirting the cool liquid all over Luke’s back in curves and twirls. 

Luke squeaks when she does it, lurching forward, but Bea chastises him and makes him hold still so she can rub it into his skin.

Trevor’s eyes move from that scene to the girl in front of him. She’s wearing a sweatshirt over her bathing suit, the cuffs rolled up above her wrist. It’s long enough to hide any shorts that she could be wearing. She’s looking at Bea with a tiny smile on her lips, head tilted to the side. Her legs are long and tan and she’s got a freckle behind her ear. 

Trevor aches to press his lips to her skin. Her flyaways would tickle the side of his face, the shell of her ear would smooth itself against the tip of his nose, and he’d be able to wrap his arms around her to pull her against his chest…

That’s enough of that.

He wants to touch her, he does. He wants to put sunscreen on her back and let her return the favor. He wants to be the one to slide his fingers under the straps of her top and dip into the waistband of her bottoms, just to make sure all of her skin is covered. Obviously. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

Oh my God, he wants to touch her so bad.

Trevor has to tear his eyes from Honey and clench his jaw, biting his tongue between his teeth to bring him back to reality. He’s back to sporting a semi– if it isn’t the consequences of his own thoughts– and he knows that if he touches her, if she touches him, he won’t be able to control himself.

“Looks like Bea’s out,” Trevor says, thinking quick on his feet. “I think Cole’s sunscreen is more important than mine, since he’s ‘made to burn.’” He takes out his sunscreen and claps it into Cole’s palm. “You and Honey can do each other up. I’m going to take a nap at the front. Wake me up when we start surfing.”

His eyes slide over Honey just before he walks away, and she looks puzzled. Trevor swallows a smile and returns to the bow of the boat, laying out and dropping his shirt over his face. 

He zones out, eyes closed and breath even. Someone joins him on the cushion at some point, just before the boat starts to lurch away from the dock. He feels the spray of the lake dampen his shirt and cool his skin. The sun is already starting to pick at his chest, his tolerance not as high as it is when they’re always on the boat in Michigan.

“You’re burning, Trevor.” 

Trevor startles, sitting up and ripping the shirt away from his face. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust to the sun.

Honey holds out his sunscreen. The can is in one hand, the face lotion in the other. She’s biting the inside of her cheek and staring at him.

Trevor reaches out and plucks the items from her grasp, purposefully avoiding her fingers. 

“Thanks,” Trevor says, looking anywhere but her face. He can’t look her in the eyes. He can’t touch her. He tucks them away, tying them into his shirt and tossing it to the side. He misses the way her eyes flash and fix on the movements of his fingers, her lips parting. He’s too busy making his way to his feet and turning away. “I think I’m going to borrow the tanning oil from Luke, though. I’ll probably get him to do my back. Cole already did yours, right?”

Honey just hums and nods. Trevor looks up just long enough to take in the tight smile on her face. He can see that her eyes are rimmed with sunglasses, so he’s safe from the look in her eyes. 

Trevor raises his fingers in a half-hearted wave before he walks away, joining Luke and Jack at the back of the boat. They’ve each got a hand in Cole’s pockets, making sure he doesn’t fly away as he stands on a bench and ties the lead-ropes they brought to the canopy. 

Bea sits on Quinn’s thigh as he drives the boat, arms around his shoulders and laughing at the boys. Her eyes flicker with alarm as Trevor approaches, and she turns to face the front of the boat, rising off Quinn’s lap slightly to peek around the console.

Trevor hears her scoff and hop off Quinn’s lap, pattering away with light steps. He pays her no mind– just gives Cole a lovetap on the stomach so he doubles over. Jack and Luke laugh and Cole glares at Trevor, but the bickering transforms their area of the boat into a bubble where only they live. Quinn visits sometimes, to switch out once they’ve got the surfboard ready, but the day belongs to Jack, Luke, Cole, and Trevor.

Honey and Bea tan in the front and Trevor misses every pointed glare from Bea and sneaking, evaluating glance from Honey that comes his way.

14:90 – HONEY

Honey and Bea are sitting at the picnic table in Honey’s backyard. They’re sipping tea and the sun is setting. Honey blows on the surface of her mug, keeping it raised to her lips to take a sip.

She and Bea have been hanging out all day. 

Honey was in this position at sunrise, sipping coffee out of the same mug and looking at the same mountains. 

They’ve mostly sat in silence all day, reading their books or scrolling on their phones. Honey finishes the book she had been reading, so they break into The Reading Nook as soon as Bea wakes up, and Honey borrows a new one. She’s over a quarter of the way through the new book now, but the sun has set too much for her to continue reading.

So, they drink tea. They drove to Bea’s house to get some calming tea, then back to Honey’s. Bea made the tea while Honey sat and breathed, listening to the birds sing their eggs to sleep. They sip their tea, but Honey knows that time is running out. Bea’s been patient enough.

“I think it’s time we talk about what happened these past two days,” Bea says, setting her mug on the flat of the table. “Really, really talk.”

Honey sighs, putting her own mug down. “Yeah, I know.”

“I only have two questions for you, Honey,” Bea says. She laces her fingers together and leans in, like a principal or a school counselor. 

Honey wants to laugh. It’s like an intervention. “What are your questions, Bea-girl?” She asks with a breath of a laugh and a roll of her eyes.

“Question one,” Bea pauses for effect, tilting her head to the side and widening her eyes. “How did you feel about Trevor after you licked, uh, everything off of his body?” She gestures with her hand, waving it in a circle. She tilts her chin up and smiles, sarcastically in pain, at Honey. 

“I was thinking–”

Bea interrupts. “Nuh-uh. I don’t care about what you were thinking. What were you feeling about Trevor? And not once you started thinking about home, or any of that. The second you looked at him: what were you feeling?”

Honey’s face twists, her nose crinkling. She hates when Bea plays therapist.

“I felt like…” Honey trails off, thinking back. She gnaws on her bottom lip, looking at the dark masses of leaves rustle on the trees surrounding her home. “It was warm. I felt… light. If Trevor hadn’t had his hands on my waist, I might’ve… been like that puddle guy… in Sky High.” Her voice gets quieter with every pause and Honey is very conscious of the fact that she’s referencing the cult-classic ‘DCOM’ Sky High in her therapy session with her best friend.

Bea’s conscious of the reference, too, staring at Honey. Her jaw is dropped and she’s filled with mild aghast, just like Honey. She shuts her mouth, closes her eyes, and nods to herself before opening them again.

“Question two. How did you feel after Trevor went to the back of the boat yesterday?”

Honey knew it was coming, but the memory still tugs at her. 

She doesn’t get it. Trevor had been so… talkative, at first. He had sought Honey out and, as much as she hates to admit it, being chased was nice. Trevor had stood out from the first day, so much so that she wouldn’t even consider the other boys if they asked– and Jack did ask, that one time. 

It was like a complete 180º after the dare. He steps away from her, he can’t meet her eyes, he found not one, but two excuses to get away from Honey after she offered to put sunscreen on his back. Yeah, she figured Cole was joking and setting them up for disaster, but she was ready to role with it after having that conversation with Bea on Friday.

Trevor froze when she was around and avoided Honey like a fucking. plague.

Honey’s silence speaks for itself, because Bea opens her mouth to continue.

“Maybe–”

Honey talks over her, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t– think he likes me.”

She takes a breath before opening her eyes again. 

Bea stares at Honey, her first two fingers covering her mouth. 

Honey blinks and looks down at her hands, wrapping them around her mug to save them from the sudden frostbite spreading over her fingers. “If he felt like I did after that dare… he wouldn’t have ignored me yesterday.” Honey presses her tongue into her top teeth, clamping her lips shut. The edges of her eyes are prickling with wetness again.

Bea reaches across the table and takes one of her hands.

“If that’s how he feels, then he’s stupid,” Bea says, voice definite. “He would be an idiot to stop chasing you.”

“I wish it was as easy as you and Quinn,” Honey admits. She stares at the warped and chipped wood under their hands. She’s sick to her stomach for a second, having déjà vu of the same image five years earlier, when she and Bea left Charlotte and spent their first night here. They didn’t even have mugs yet. They just talked and held hands and took in their new home. It’s the same feeling.

Bea shakes her head. “It’s not the same. Quinn and I aren’t–” She pauses to scoff, a grimace across her face. “We’re hooking up. We both know that and we don’t want anything more. That’s why it’s so easy.”

“But you felt so bad when you had to tell him,” Honey argues.

“I felt guilty.” Bea shrugs. “It passed.”

They sit in silence for a little while longer. Bea drops Honey’s hands and returns to her tea. 

Honey looks down at her tea and brings it to her lips, sipping. She takes a second sip, clearing her throat. 

“I want to be wanted,” Honey says. She feels silly saying it, the phrase obvious. Everyone wants to be wanted. She’s not special. To make herself feel better, she adds, partially as a joke: “And I want to have sex.”

“It’s been a long time since you said that,” Bea replies and Honey’s heart soars. She always understands exactly what Honey means. She always knows exactly what to say. Honey covers her face with her hands, overwhelmed. Bea continues. “It doesn’t have to be silly old Trevor, since he’s a loser.”

“Yeah… I don’t want any of the others,” Honey laughs.

Bea scoffs, defensive. “Yeah, and I wasn’t gonna give you any of ‘em.”

They laugh together, heads thrown back. Bea’s foot stomps against the dirt. 

When they quiet down, Bea adds with a grin, “I was just thinking that we could have a night out or something. Wilkesboro has to have something you can settle for. Just for a fuck, you know?”

Honey nods, smiling. She raises her tea to her lips and swallows the last of it. The mug clatters when she sets it down.

“Would it,” she starts, her smile breaking into a toothy, tilted beam. “Would it be so bad if I wanted it to be Trevor?”

Bea squeals and wiggles. She grabs Honey’s hands and squeezes, bouncing in her seat. She’s so excited that it causes Honey to break out into a fresh round of embarrassed giggles, shielding her face from the aftermath of her admission.

“We’re going on double dates,” Bea makes Honey promise, linking their pinkies. “We are. Just talk to him… tomorrow…” She wiggles her eyebrows. “And tell him that you want him to flirt with you again.”

“Well, it’s not that easy,” Honey denies, rolling her eyes.

“Isn’t it, though?” Bea squints one of her eyes shut and tilts her head, making a face at Honey. She smooths her expression and makes her eyes wide, blinking innocently as she mocks: “‘You know, you should really keep flirting with me, Trev. You never know when it’ll pay off.’ See?” 

Honey laughs in disbelief. “Yeah, okay. I’ll say exactly that.”

“Fine, if that’s so hard, go find me a pen. Then I have to go home. It’s late.” Bea bosses, pointing towards Honey’s living room. When Honey stands, she smiles again, sickly-sweet. “Thank you, Baby-Honey.”

“Whatever,” Honey replies, standing and finding a Sharpie in her junk drawer. She overemphasizes the nickname sarcastically when she returns to the table: “Buzzy.”

Bea sticks her tongue out at Honey and holds her hand out expectantly. Honey clicks her tongue in annoyance, but puts her hand in Bea’s, her palm facing up. Bea leans over her, stretching Honey’s skin so it’s taut. She scribbles something onto Honey’s hand, at one point pulling out her phone to read a message. She nods when she’s done and reaches up to draw a little heart on the inside of Honey’s wrist. She blows a kiss at Honey and slaps the marker in her hand, closing her fingers around the marker. Bea stands, takes her mug, and drops it off in the sink before she walks out of Honey’s front door. 

Honey raises her other hand in a belated wave, barely looking. She returns to her other hand, unfurling her fingers. Scrawled on her palm are ten digits and Trevor’s name. 

It’s a phone number.

Honey pales. She can’t text Trevor. She has to tell him to keep things going in person, not behind a screen. That’s not who she is. She hasn’t acted like this in five years, and she’s not planning on reverting to old habits. No, she has to go see Trevor tomorrow. 

Monday!

Tomorrow, the fruit stand is open. Trevor knows that Honey goes to the fruit stand on Mondays, and if he’s interested at all, he’ll show up. It’s, like, a ‘thing’ now, right?

Yeah. She’ll see him at the fruit stand tomorrow. If she doesn’t, then she’ll know how he feels for sure. She won’t have to text, she won’t have to go track Trevor down– it’ll be easy, like how Honey wants it to be. Quinn and Bea aren’t the only people who can have it easy.

[hotcat37]

JO boyfriend headcanons please?🙏🙏 Doesn't have to be x reader but just in general

I got you ♂️

Jan:

-I see him as the type to have not had many relationships (maybe 1 or 2 at most) but they have always been serious and he doesn't date people impulsively. There would definitely need to be at least 6 months worth of slow burn between him and his partner before he considers a relationship

-so the buildup to dating might be potentially frustrating but that's just because he really wants to be a good boyfriend and he needs time to sort out his feelings for a person. He'll definitely suggest taking things slow the first few weeks of dating

-doesn't have many absolute requirements for a partner but being kind towards animals is definitely a must. Igor is his baby and he'd need a partner who is also willing to take care of the cat if they start living together

-mornings with him are slow and lazy, he prefers to sleep in as much as possible. Coffee and breakfast in bed are not uncommon. If his partner has an earlier schedule than him he will try to help and get breakfast ready on time but most of the time he'll probably doze off out of fatigue

-is more of a stay in kinda person rather than going out. Loves to just play guitar while his partner is cuddled up to him with some takeout. Also enjoys going on walks in nature and making his way through fields hand in hand with his partner

Bojan:

-tends to fall hard and fast for people so is likely the one to confess and initiate things first. However he also understands when things are moving too fast and is totally respectful if his partner needs more time to get to know him before getting into anything romantic

-very sweet and romantic, will get his partner flowers randomly and do other small gestures as a show of appreciation like cleaning the house and cooking dinner

-unfortunately given that he's the frontman of the band, he wouldn't really want to be open about the relationship to the fans. There's a certain image he needs to uphold as to not break immersion so his partner would have to understand that he wouldn't post them on main or say anything that would imply he's not single. That being said he will tone down the flirting with fans significantly and make sure his partner knows they're loved and appreciated

-does get very anxious sometimes even outside of stressful settings like a concert or before an interview. Needs a partner that will reassure and comfort him when he feels too scared to do something, sometimes even things he's done 100 of times before will suddenly seem impossible and his partner would have to be very understanding of his mental illness

-likes going on dates where you do activities like bowling and karaoke. Is playful and competitive so he definitely wouldn't hold back while playing a game. He's also just trying to impress his partner lmao

Jure:

-is a bit unsure about relationships, has had a few in the past but the spark either fizzled out or it was too difficult to balance a relationship with band life. He is open to dating tho but he'd want to discuss beforehand the things that come with dating a rockstar who goes on tour every few months

-kind of a thrill seeker, likes going out to clubs and climbing trees and exploring abandoned places in the woods. Would want a partner that either enjoys the same lifestyle or is okay with indulging in it occasionally. However will of course tone things down and choose to stay home some days too if his partner prefers staying in

-most private one in the band but will probably casually mention being in a relationship during an interview. Otherwise doesn't reveal any other information about his partner

-very affectionate, likes sitting in his partner's lap or having them sit in his. Big on public display of affection and will feel a bit sad if his partner isn't into that at all. Will put a lot of effort into spending time with his lover

-if they've been dating long enough he'd suggest adopting a pet with his partner. Preferably a cat of course <3 Is open to dogs as well

Kris:

-not at all subtle when he likes someone, will be very obvious about being in love but you'll catch him dead before he makes the first move to actually confess. Needs to be put out of his misery and be blatantly asked out

-would try to keep the relationship private as to avoid strong reactions from fans but might accidentally mention his partner in an interview or unrelated video. Will apologize profusely to his lover afterwards even if they don't care

-enjoys showing off his partner while going out on dates. Likes to go clothes shopping and eating out at cozy cafe's. Greatly enjoys linking his arm with his partner's as they walk

-is much more soft and sweet towards his partner. Still accidentally says unhinged things sometimes but tries to be mindful not to blurt out anything potentially hurtful. The guys tease him about being much nicer to his lover and he'll become embarrassed but it won't deter him

-is tall and will obnoxiously bend down to kiss a shorter partner. Will be a little thrown off at first if his partner is the same height or taller but quickly enjoys not having to break his neck in order to kiss them

Nace:

-tries to be subtle about being in love with his future partner but promptly fails to do so. Will ask someone out after taking them on a proper date, probably after having been friends with them for a while

-taking care of someone is his main love language. Will cook with love for his partner, comfort them after a bad day and give them his jacket when they're cold. Make sure to return this same amount of affection to him!

-wants a partner that likes animals because he's got his turtles and Pino. Would need to be able to count on his lover to walk the dog and feed the turtles when he's unable to because of touring

-prefers going on more private dates like to the cinema or walking alongside a beach. Will splash out on special occasions and take his partner to a fancy restaurant if they want that or get them an expensive gift. That being said he ultimately prefers to just be at home and infodump about random topics while him and his partner enjoy the same or separate activities

-is still self-conscious about his body so his lover would need to be very respectful of his boundaries. Does appreciate them complimenting him and trying to get him to be more confident but some days he just wants to keep the shirt on and that's okay

[moonlight-coffeebean-147]

Carrietta “Carrie” Graves

Age: 28

Birthday: April 5

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Height: 6’5”

Species: Zombie Ghost Hybrid

Occupation: Gravedigger

Petname: Little Ghost

Description:

A zombie ghost lass, whether or not she was born this way is a mystery even to her. She spends most of her days digging and cleaning graves and tombstones. She’s very erratic in her movement and behavior. Acts more zombie like than most. Only communicates in zombie growls, moans, groans, and other various noises that Barbatos understands. Is capable of feeling emotions. Bites are her way of showing affection. Hates the feeling of shoes, would rather feel the dirt and be one with earth. Actually knows more than she lets on. Very eccentric but sweet once you get past her quirks. Has the ability to float and occasionally phase through walls. Her hat was a gift from her father. Prefers to cover her eye. Willing to use her shovel as a weapon. Holds Barbatos dear to her.

Barbatos Heffernan

Age: 30

Birthday: December 8

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Height: 15ft

Species: Demon Leech Hybrid

Occupation: Gravedigger

Petname: Lord Bloodsucker

Description:

A demon who was born with both a sloth and a gluttony sin core. Making him both constantly tired and have a voracious appetite. He was also part leech humanoid giving him a taste for meat and blood. He used to be part of a rich family, but was kicked out due to refusing an arranged marriage. He was homeless for a good while before meeting Carrie and living with her. He only wears socks on his feet, it’s what he’s used to. Very proud of his size like most demons are. Deeply cares for Carrie and is extremely protective of her. Knows demon magic. Despite his general lazy and apathetic demeanor, he does show passion for certain interests.

The two met when Barbatos saved Carrie from being attacked by grave robbers, Carrie offering a place for him to stay at her place. Barbatos paid her back by working with her at the cemetery. Carrie helps Barbatos feel important and Barbatos helps Carrie feel pretty. The two show their love through biting each other, can be seen as a very Addams family way of love. Love cuddling each other during their days off. The two still live at Carrie’s home. Their favorite date idea is just hanging out at the cemetery or trying out various restaurants. They also on occasion go to the mall.

Enjoy the various doodles cause I’ve drawn them a lot in the past now I have an excuse to show

[borom1r]

alone, break, desire, and mask for the OC meme (whichever one(s) you have the brain worms for)

ooooooo ok I’ll do a few guys.. Kenneth, Fýrulf + hmmmm Achim :3

Kenneth—

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

loneliness doesn’t bother him. he’s a freak + he knows it, he grew up being The Weird Kid(tm) and learned pretty fucking fast that people don’t like being around him for extended periods of time.

+ so he spent most of his adult life completely alone, before he met John. it didn’t bother him, but in like. the sense of he was so used to it he just didn’t even register it as sth lacking. now that he has John, he’s fully committed to “when you die, I die.” nobody gets to take John away from him lmao

when nobody’s around… kinda similar to what we’ve talked abt with John tbh. like not as extreme bc Kenneth very much HAS his own identity, but if he doesn’t need to perform for anybody, if there’s nobody in his life to care about, then he’s just going thru the motions. very robotic. part of why he likes the adrenaline rush of demolition derbies so much, + why he’d drive around picking up ppl on the roadside. he was looking for danger bc it gave him sth to focus on Other than the creeping emptiness of his stupid little life.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

oh if John died. 100%. I mean like I touched on above, if John goes, Ken’s going to.

if it’s natural causes, he’d just take himself out quietly. if someone else caused his death, Ken would rip their throat out with his teeth first. blind seething rage.

Ken’s never Been at what he considers his “lowest,” but John has seen him minutes away from a panic attack so I think that counts lol

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

surprisingly enough for Kenneth’s whole.. vibe, a long happy “quiet” life lmao. he’s got John, he’s got someone who matches his vibe, like he just wants their version of 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. Their quiet little lot in the trailer park, their lazy days fixing up junker cars, their weekend trips to go murder idiots on the side of the road + fuck in seedy motels— he’s very open with this To John. nobody else needs to know about their fun weekend murder getaways lmfao

+ he’d fully tear the world apart to keep his little piece of paradise intact

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

literally? No. figuratively….. sort of. he’s weird + generally offputting if u spend more than half an hour around him. the only thing he rlly bothers to mask around the general public is the like. murder fantasies and extremely dubious kinks. Betty at the local 24hour diner doesn’t need to know he and John met bc Kenneth was driving around at three in the morning actively looking to Get Murdered For Sexual Gratification

John is FULLY aware that he’s in a committed long term relationship with a rancid little hick freak but to be fair literally who else would look at John and go “oh yeah YOU are the dude I wanna spend my life with. get loved, idiot” — I mean literally Ken and John:

Fýrulf—

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

loneliness isn't sth that bothers Fýrulf— he's been completely alone plenty of times, and he enjoys the isolation. it's why he decided to become an adventurer instead of staying home to protect his home village; a full pack chafes at him. he'd rather wander and join other adventurers only when he needs to

when there's no one around to see, he's a lot more willing to indulge his animalistic side. not that he bothers to hide it much to begin with; being a lycanthrope is a source of pride for him. if he's alone, though, he can indulge in things like eating raw meat or hunting with just his hands and teeth without getting weird looks

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

hm. that's an extremely good question actually. Fýrulf has a retired knight (an Aasimar named Tavar) that he's got quite the fancy for, and is considering asking Tavar to be his mate. bringing an outsider home for a short time to have a child is one thing, asking an outsider to be your mate is another, and would require Tavar to 1) be bitten by a werewolf and 2) embrace the full bloodlust that comes with lycanthropy. If Tavar fails to embrace his lycanthropy, he'd be ritually hunted and killed— a hunt Fýrulf would be required to take part in.

I think that would break Fýrulf. (he worries about his little brother eclipsing, failing to embrace the bloodlust, but he's always known that was a risk and it's an accepted part of their culture. it would be.. different, with Tavar)

Fýrulf at his lowest.... he'd just shut down. I think he'd let the wolf take over completely. no thoughts, only murder < no one's ever seen him at his lowest, bc he's never hit that point

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

glory for his people! he's an adventurer specifically to bring back wealth and glory (since he's gay and isn't necessarily gonna come home with children. like he COULD, but he's absolutely not the father type). it's a very simple desire but Fýrulf is a very simple man. he loves his home, he loves his family, he enjoys exploring the world but there just isn't a whole lot he wants for himself. someday he'll die an honorable death in battle and that's enough for him

he's very open with wanting glory, but his home village/its location is a closely-guarded secret. even Tavar doesn't know exactly where it is

+ he's already working to fulfill his goals. every adventure he goes on is more tales of battle and bloodshed to bring home to his people

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

literally? yes actually! his wolf-pelt can be worn as a mask, and he will usually lower it over his face before he goes into battle. figuratively? not really. he is what he is and he's not ashamed of any of it.

Tavar and his family. they get to see Fýrulf as his truest self

Achim—

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

ahh.. he doesn't deal w/ loneliness well. he'll summon ghosts to keep him company if he's Truly Alone, which is not the best coping mechanism for sure

he was.. not completely alone, but extremely isolated. his aunt slowly poisoned him to death and kept him secluded in his room, so.

he doesn't like being alone. it makes him anxious, but now he's got a soul-link with a monstrous ghostlike creature that grants him supernatural powers. so now he's never alone!

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

if he ever was truly alone, i think he would break. if he lost his connection with his geist, he'd freak. like a frightened animal in a storm. his partners have seen him at his lowest, and though Emrik struggles with emotions, Dorin is generally good at helping Achim calm down

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

To Be Loved~

like look, he was poisoned to death by the one person he thought cared about him, resurrected by a powerful spirit and now he's got two Different undead creatures for boyfriends. not to mention his first real experimentation with intimate relationships came in the form of using previously mentioned supernatural powers to make ghosts tangible from midnight to sunrise.

Achim is. not the most well adjusted. he wants someone who will Love Him For Eternity, and he's fairly open about that. if he ever lost Emrik or Dorin, he'd probably go back to summoning ghosts for Late Night Flings. again, not healthy, but he wouldn't do anything to hurt people he cares about (even if they're actively hurting him)

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

does he? no, not really. it's especially hard to mask when the Geist you're tied to manifests any strong emotions as uncontrollable, murky tears (if his Geist is feeling things? Achim is crying nonstop). since his/his Geist's emotions are so painfully obvious, there's not a lot of reason for Achim to mask. he's self-conscious, insecure and a bit of a clingy crybaby. Dorin and Emrik know this, and they care about him all the same (Dorin is fascinated by a Ghost Magnet and Emrik can't quite quantify "love," but they do each care about Achim in their own ways)

[kakusu-shipping]

For the domestic hc asks: 10, 15, 20 for mariocest?

Anon I mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah Love you thankyou SO much for the ask

Asks from Here

10. What do they do when the other is away?

Keep busy mostly. Luigi does a lot of house work when Mario's off on adventures, and Mario takes any odd job he can get ahold of when Luigi travels.

Luigi handles his alone time a lot better than Mario. Mario gets a lot more fidgety when left to his own devices, anxious and depressed all on his own. If he can't find something to work on or do to be helpful he tends to just. Sleep a lot. Order pizza and sleep in.

He doesn't like it when Luigi's away.

15. What do they do when their partner is sick?

I think the Mario Bros both have stupid strong immune systems. The kinda guys who've only been "can't leave the house" levels of sick twice in their lives.

If Luigi's sick, Mario joins him in a lock down, only leaving the house to grab any prescription Luigi might need. He orders in Pizza and sets himself and Luigi up on the couch with blankets and tissues and whatever else he might need. He won't leave his brother's side for more then 5 minutes at a time.

If Mario's sick, Luigi has to physically fight him for the rights to take care of him. Mario does not take sick days. Luigi spends a lot of Mario's sick day just fighting him to lay down, take his medicine, stay still, just relax Bro. The easiest part of the process is getting him to eat at least. No stomach bug could keep Mario from a homemade Luigi meal.

Most likely though they'd be sick at the same time and need someone else to take care of them both. Keeping a Sick Mario from taking care of Sick Luigi would be a job all on it's own.

20. What is the first thing they say/do in the morning?

Mario is not a morning person.

Luigi is though. Loves to wake up in the morning. Loves to wake Mario up with a soft kiss and a hot mug of coffee. Loves to grab a shower right after waking up.

Mario in return, after lazing in bed with his mug, makes himself and Luigi breakfast. Something sweet like waffles with enough syrup to drown an elephant for Luigi, and something lighter like a banana sandwich for himself. Unless he has nothing to do that day, then he's making some breakfast meat. Sausage and Country Ham and Biscuits and Gravy.

[spaceless-vacuum]

Question? How would a Yan!Link handle having a Darling who not only chose him willingly but actively smothers him back? Not to the degree of a Yandere but rather if he comes home injured or gets hurt and they're traveling together he finds himself in mandatory bed rest unless they deem it light enough an injury? He has a cold and gets dragged in the house and shoved into bed while they go make soup. They refuse to let him do anything for them while hurt and are totally not against using cuddles as an option to keep him down. Will capitalize on his Yandere tendencies. Aware of those tendencies and tries not to upset him but also knows how to use them to their advantage?

Or how about this? Actively chasing others off by making it known he's taken? He won't have to pull his Darling into his lap if they make themselves comfortable there first. His Darling is completely down with owning up to the fact that they have one of the most dangerous people in Hyrule willing to do absolutely anything for them and he's so sweet and gentle for them and good looking to boot.

Most pleased Yandere ever I'd imagine.

....bonus? They spend their free time trying to fluster him somehow. How easy is it? Does it work? Who knows.

Oooh I think this is so much fun and would go differently with the different heroes. I've decided to use this as an opportunity to write for the lu au. hope you don't mind!

.

Sky would absolutely adore this and would take it as a chance to gain more cuddles from you. He is already very big on spending a lazy day together with you (assuming all of his work is done) and the idea of receiving more love and attention is one that makes his heart skip a beat with joy. His idea of a relaxing summer day is taking it easy or flying around Skyloft. Two things he can do if wounded or with a cold.

Even if you do try to coax him to stay inside all day he needs a walk for fresh air and it can't be helped. The man doesn't like to be cooped up all the time and will carry you out the door with him if he needs to. As long as you're with him he's as buzzed as a bee. 

The action of you putting yourself into his lap before he does makes him blush so badly. Public displays of affection in front of others, especially when he knows you're doing it to claim him gets him in his feelings. He's practically kicking his legs but to do so might kick you off of his lap which he won't do.

The fact that you want others to know you love him makes his heart skip a beat. There's no way anyone is going to lay a hand on you after that. He has a way of making sure that everyone knows you're taken with just a look and with the fact you're always hanging off of his arm he doesn't have to do too much. Which is fine by him. Less work for him means more time to spend by your side. It's easy to forget he has a darker side sometimes as he's just so sweet and carefree until pushed in the right (or wrong) direction.

Even if he finds out or just knows about how you're ‘using’ him, Sky doesn't care. In his mind it isn't an issue at all because he isn't being used if he's ok with it and you both enjoy the outcome. It's rare to find him getting upset at your cute demeanor but sometimes he does have a rare moment where it all slips and he feels like he needs to take a ride.

It’s really, and I mean really easy to get Sky flustered. Any form of public affection where others can see it and are actively looking makes him blush so hard. He doesn't get embarrassed often but he does have friends who like to tease and poke fun. Word gets around in villages quickly (especially about the hero) and you being called Link’s is something he never gets used to. It makes him feel like he's on cloud nine when he overhears the talk on the town. As long as no one says anything bad about his partner.

[captain-kinda-trash]

Hi! I wanted to request some headcannons for rottmnt boys with a reader who gives great hugs and gets a plush hoodie this winter, so hugging them feels like hugging a teddy bear now

Of course!! Thank you so much for the request!!

Teddy Bear (ROTTMNT Headcanons)

This was what I had in mind while writing 🤔🤔⬇

Leo

Let's just be clear about one thing

Leo LOVES your hugs

CANNOT get enough of them

Long night of fighting for justice? Huggies

Gets into an argument with Donnie? More huggies

Hell, even walking past you in the lair, he'll do little grabby hands and act like a whiny baby until he gets his daily hugs 🙄 😩

But then you get a super soft, super fluffy, super warm sweatshirt?

Dead

He's dead

You're basically like a human heater for this cold-blooded blue boy

Since you've gotten it, you can hardly stop wearing it, because it's the most comfortable thing ever-

And Leo has gotten even more excuses to hug you

"Leo, im cooking!"

"bUT YOUR SOO COMFFYYY 🥴"

Will, without a doubt ask you to carry his lazy ass, just because he wants to snuggle into your sweatshirt

And don't even get me STARTED on movie nights with him

Because what begins as a cold-blooded turtle hanging onto your arm like a baby koala

Ends up being Leo curled up in your lap or somehow wrapped around you with this hot sweater

So while he's practically purring with comfort, you are sweating like a dog

Not to mention, this bitch is just heavy

like 200+ pounds of straight muscle, so I hope you don't have to use the restroom any time soon because it's going to take a while to pry this big baby off of you

I'd also like to mention, that you don't need to tell him not to steal your hoodie

because he’s gonna do it anyways 😎💙

You discovered this one day, when you slipped the article off to bake with Mikey

After a nice batch of cookies was made, your jacket was gone and you began parading around the lair to find it 

Only to see Leo, snuggled in his bed and playing on his phone, with your hoodie practically swallowing him whole

If he hadn’t looked so comfortable, you would have been angrier, and just settled for scolding him playfully for stealing it

it was hell trying to pry it off of him,  though...

This turtle knows how to wrestle and he will not hesitate to kick your ass over this fluffy sweatshirt 😤

These two things (hugs and your hoodie) combined just make Leo melt into a puddle, and he couldn’t be happier to have all of your teddy bear hugs :>

Mikey

um, have you met this turtle?

KING of hugs

It’s so great how both of you share the same energy

Though he’s more cold-blooded, like Donnie, he needs all of the hugs

It’s just your thing

With Raph, you have fist bumps, Leo, you’ve got a cool handshake, Donnie is more for high-fives 

And for Mikey, it’s hugs 

He practically tackles you to the ground in tight hugs whenever you get home from school/work and come to the lair, like a happy little puppy

Speaking of puppies…

That’s what he says your hoodie feels like whenever it first arrives in the mail.

Immediately, you throw it on, and Mikey is all over it, petting the soft fabric and squealing in excitement 

Can he please wear it?? 🥺

Little Mikey didn’t even have to ask before you shed the hoodie and let him try it on

And OH

MY

FLUFFY...

The amount of cuteness that this turtle radiates when he’s smiling like an idiot and flapping the oversized arms around is just-

He vows to get his own since it’s so warm and comfortable

But he’s very respectful and gives it back to you

Only to attack you in another hug and lift you off of the ground because you look so adorable

“You’re like a little teddy bear!” *excited squeal!*

Mikey 100% respects your space so if you’re ever snuggling, he’s instantly aware of your getting sweaty or uncomfortable and will let up or loosen his arms

Winter days?

Snuggles all day and night

when Mikey (politely) asks to wear your jacket, he’ll throw it on and give you piggyback rides around the lair, because we love fun

And for Christmas, you get him his own, and he’s IN LOVE 

Sweater buddies 

He gets one in his favorite color and little ears on the hood and once a week, when they need to be thrown in the washer, you’ll keep him warm while he waits.

(Leo gets jealous of all the attention you’re giving Mikey >:o)

Donnie

we all know that Don isn’t the biggest on physical affection

If he wants a hug, usually he’d be the one to initiate, which is totally cool, since usually he’s forced into a hug by his brothers (secretly loves it tho)

He does enjoy your hugs, though he can be a bit awkward and stiff with them at first

If he’s feeling down, needs to be warmed up a bit, he’ll immediately seek your comfort

Even out of his brothers, you’re secretly his favorite 

Sure he loves Dr. Delicate Touch, but sometimes Donnie would rather go to someone who isn’t very pushy with solutions, and is willing to listen

And we can also all agree that he has an immaculate fashion taste ✨💜

When he sees the fluffy sweater draped over your arm, he’s immediately running over, analyzing the fabrics, and rushing to get you to try it on

Why? Fashion show 

Loves the warmth of your hoodie

And I because “it’s so soofff”

Donnie’s blood runs the coldest out of all of his brothers and he has the most sensitive shell, so he just adores your sweater

Is definitely contemplating on getting one for himself, though he wouldn’t tell you at first, because you might think he’s trying to copy your awesome style, and that would just destroy his massive ego 😩💅

He enjoys it when you sit in his lab with him, maybe rested against his side with your hoodie on, as you play on your phone/read/draw

Also up for snuggles when it’s extra chilly in the Lair, or when his brothers aren’t around, because once again, damaged ego

Movie marathons?

Hell yeah

Donnie will always make sure your comfortable before he gets comfortable on the couch, so you won’t shift around while watching the movie

He’s also very vulnerable when he takes his battle shell off, and in more ways than one

You know he’s got real, strong trust when he does so and will let you carefully hug him from behind with your hoodie on, since it’s so soft

Donnie will also snatch your massive jacket if he gets the chance, and disappear into his lab for days with it on

And he’ll never tell a soul this…

But he loves it the most, because it smells like you, 💜

so it’s like having you right beside him while you’re gone, or when he’s busy building something 

Also, tries to use his classic and sarcastic charm when it comes to asking for your hoodie back

“Come on Don, it’s cold outside! I need it!”

“But would you take it from such a luxurious face as this?” 😏

“😒”

“Right, giving it back-“

He totally gets his own hoodie, by the way

Purple (obviously)

But it just isn’t the same as your own, so Donnie might just have yours on and then wrap his own around his waist

Yep

He sure does love his teddy bear 💜

Raph

Okay but Raph is an actual teddy bear-

A big, mom-friend, weapon-wielding teddy bear

He LOVES giving hugs, and most would recognize this, seeing the various pictures and instances where he pulls all three of his brothers in for a great big group hug ❤

He's constantly reminding himself that you are much much more prone to injuries than his brothers, so he holds you like a little baby when he hugs you

(Unless he gets super excited or has a really rough night, so just be aware that you might be restricted of breathing privileges in that case-)

Usually so gentle 🥺

Just picks you up and wraps those huge freaking arms around you like giant pillows

And he LOSES HIS SHIT when you come back with this fluffy ass hoodie

Has this infatuation with petting the fur and running his fingers over it

He has never felt something so soft in his entire life 😩❤

And then when he hugs you with it on-

aUGGGH ❤❤

"Why are you a like big teddy bear?!"

"Buddy, you're just getting a taste of my own world-"

Poor Raph, being the size he is and having such a spiky shell, can't just wear your hoodie like his brothers :(

I mean, sure he could take it so easily

But he doesn't want to disrespect your things, or make you upset, because this man is The Gentleman™

So, rather than asking to wear it, he'll ask to spend more time with you

Not just for the hoodie ofc, but because of your sweet gentleness and warmth

Better quit your job babe, because your new occupation?

Raph's cuddle buddy

He refuses to let you become uncomfortable, makes sure there are the right amount of pillows, blankets, and room for you to move around while you snuggle together etc.

Raph is also a heavy sleeper, so once he gets comfy and warm enough, he'll probably doze off and trap you in his big "arm cage"

Really, his nature is pure and gentle and everything you could ever imagine when it comes to hugging his little teddy bear ❤🐢

@getacactus @turtle-babe83

Hope you enjoyed this little ditty! I LOVED writing these!! 💜💜

[dustyphantom]

The Champion's Pokémon

Lance's main dragonite, Vernon, is generally pretty stern. He's also the oldest of Lance's pokémon, and acts like a father figure to the rest of them, often keeping them in line, but is still very caring. However, he's still a fierce fighter, and Lance's most trusted companion. The name Vernon comes from Wyvern, and also the home of George Washington, the first president of the US.

While most Metagross tend to be cold or aggressive, Lazuli is just the opposite. Steven's Metagross is incredibly sweet and patient, and loves to be pet. They're very gentle unless they're in a battle or around someone they deem dangerous. For unknown reasons, they also love children, which is an issue because most children are terrified of them. They're sort of like a giant puppy. Lazuli comes from Lapis Lazuli, a precious mineral known for its blue color.

If Lazuli is a puppy, then Mio is a cat. Milotic are known for being gentle, caring pokémon. While Mio is very kind to her trainer, Wallace, she's sassy and borderline vicious to nearly anyone else. She's very protective and takes a while to warm up to people, and for good reason given all they've gone through together. She's been known to bite and strike if someone she doesn't trust gets too close to her trainer. Mio's a name I use a lot when designing characters, and it stuck for her.

Cynthia's Garchomp Seliah is perhaps the strongest Pokémon in the region. She loves a good battle, but she's also Cynthia's closest friend. The two of them have an incredible bond, and it's said that she knows Cynthia better than anyone else, and knows even her trainer's darkest secrets. Seliah comes from Seilah, who was a minor villain in the Tartaros arc of the anime Fairy Tail.

Although he's technically not that old for a Volcarona, Ishmael is a wise soul. Generally calm and quiet, he's very patient and good-tempered. However, he's a good fighter nonetheless. He does have a tendency to get lost in thought though, and is quite the daydreamer. Ishmael comes from the biblical prophet, and also the narrator of Moby Dick.

Nagaia the Haxorus sees Iris more like a little sister than her trainer. Though she's not much older, she sees it as her duty to look out for Iris, and does a good job of it. She's incredibly loyal, and will listen to any command she's given, so long as she believes it's in her trainer's best interest. Nagaia is a combonation of the words Naga, a being from multiple eastern religions, and Gaia, the mother earth in Greek mythology

Adria is a kind soul who's always willing to lend an ear, especially to her trainer, Diantha. She tries her best to lighten the burden of being such an influential figure, and is one of the few people her trainer feels she can confide in. She's very gentle, but also tends to be rather reserved. Although she is a good fighter, she doesn't enjoy it nearly as much as the other champion's pokémon do. Adria comes from the Adriatic Sea, which is to the east of Italy.

Nike is just as hot-blooded and cocky as his trainer, and he's got a bad case of hubris to boot. Though, in all fairness, he's never been knocked out in a battle before. He'd rather spend all his days fighting, and gets frustrated easily when others take breaks for themselves, as he deems it as laziness. Needless to say, he's quite naïve, and also the youngest of the champion's pokémon. Nike is the Goddess of Victory in greek mythology

[dootdootwriting]

CONGRATS FOR 600+!!! I SAW UR EVENT SO IF I HAVE THE CHANCE, IM TAKING IT

The whole alphabet for Thoma. (Gn reader)

PLEASE dont overwork yourself though. You dont have to do it all if youre tired or something. Thank you and congrats!

600+ writing event

ty for ur request anon!! also you're funny. overwork myself? how could i possibly do that when i'm already avoiding all of my schoolwork? entire alphabet for thoma coming right up! (under the cut for length)

fluff alphabet with thoma; gn reader; no warnings apply

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

- thoma enjoys pretty much any type of shared activities with you, but ultimately his favorite kind is any that involves food. he'll go on tours of inazuma city with you to find the best places to get ice cream, or he'll buy a whole bunch of food and see what kind of dishes you can make together! nine times out of ten it ends up being really weird and a little gross, but it's fun and he loves spending time with you.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

- he admires your ambition, your humor, and your own personal flair. he loves the person you are, and almost everything that goes into that, but he specifically loves the unique little traits that make you you.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

- his first instinct is to give you a big hug or rub your back, but only if he knows you're okay with it and that it would actually help. his first goal is to make sure you're okay, and then his second goal is to cheer you up: with bad jokes and kisses, usually

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

- thoma isn't super picky with how you two end up in the future, as long as you're together and happy. he wants to grow old with you, ideally, though however you do that will decide itself.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

- thoma is used to taking the lead in your relationship, but he's not necessarily more dominant or anything - he's just excited to be with you and wants to make sure you're just as happy as he is. your relationship is pretty balanced!

F-Fun (what do they do for fun with their s/o? what's their idea of a fun day out?)

- he loves loves loves going out on walks, especially in the city, and just finding random things that seem fun to do. there are a bunch of people playing cornhole over there, how about you guys join in for a game? they're selling a new kind of hotpot at that restaurant, better give it a try!

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

- he's definitely aware of everything you do for him, and he's also very grateful that you're with him. he makes sure to let you know that every day.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

- i think the only time thoma would ever keep something from you on purpose is if it would be somehow dangerous for you to know. other than that, he likes to make sure you're aware of everything you need to be. he likes his privacy like anyone else, but he also values communication.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

- being with you hasn't necessarily changed him (aside from the fact that you two are almost always seen together now) but it's definitely improved his mood a lot, not that it was ever really bad. he also likes to show off more now that you're around...

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

- thoma gets jealous relatively easily but is also not one to step in unless it's a situation in which you seem uncomfortable. he trusts you wholeheartedly, which sometimes means he has to keep himself from getting overly worried.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

- he's a very good kisser. thoma's kisses are playful and sweet, or alternatively full of reassurance and love. your first kiss was a little rushed and he was a little nervous (not that he'd ever admit that) but he knew it was the right time.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

- confesses accidentally while watching you do something that's actually pretty normal. you tap him on the shoulder and ask where he wants to go for lunch and he just kinda stares at you and then says "man i love you" and you're like. what. but he plays it off like he TOTALLY MEANT to say that and definitely didn't slip up.

M-Mornings (what's it like waking up with them? do they sleep late or wake up before the sun rises?)

- lazy lazy lazy. thoma knows he has to go to work but why would he do that when you're next to him all curled up into him? he can't just abandon you like that! fortunately the kamisatos are very forgiving, so when he shows up late they don't give him an earful.

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

- babe/baby, sunshine, and occasionally sweetheart but usually just to tease you

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

- when thoma first realizes he's in love with you it hits him like a truck and he has to sit down for a second to process it. after that he hangs around you a lot more often, and it's pretty obvious to anyone watching that he's in love.

P-PDA (how are they with PDA? is it fun to them or are they more reserved with their affection?)

- thoma's comfortable with pda and likes to tease you with it sometimes, unless you're someone who absolutely hates it, in which case he'll settle with handholding. otherwise, he'll give you random light kisses on the cheek or will grab you and pull you into him at random points throughout the day.

Q-Quirk (some random thing they do when they're with you for no reason in particular)

- his nose scrunches when he's trying not to laugh at you, which makes you laugh at him, which makes him laugh at you. congratulations! you have achieved pile of laughter.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

- thoma is very romantic and also values friendship with his partner as well. he's sort of a mix between cliché and creative - while he will definitely take you out for a fancy dinner and lend you his jacket, he will also take you out to the lake and push you in or make a date out of who can spot the most dogs on a day out.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

- one hundred percent he believes in you and will do his best to help you achieve any goals you have. ok thats the end of this headcanon i have nothing else to say GHCCN

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

- thoma loves trying new things! he doesn't need things to change constantly (and also that might be very tiring for him) but he does like to switch things up a little.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

- forgot to change it from "good" to "well." WHOOPS. anyway

- thoma is very empathetic, so he's quick to understand how you're feeling, though it'll take him a little longer to understand why it is you're feeling like that. once you explain to him, he knows just what to do, whether it be celebrate with you on a big win or comfort you or give you some space.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

- it's SO important to him. having you in his life is one of the most important things to him. he's also been with the kamisatos for a really long time though, so thoma will need a little bit to sort out where his priorities are. rest assured that you're definitely up there.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

- thoma really likes the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. bonus points if you wash it for him (he'll return the favor)

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

- if you're ever available for affection, thoma will take advantage of it. he loves being close to you and generally just the feeling of loving and being loved in return, especially when that incorporates physical affection. listen he just really likes being kissed.

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

- when you're gone thoma will surround himself with things that remind him of you. he'll also occasionally call your name or say things to you absentmindedly before remembering you're not there at present. poor guy... he'll be very happy once you're home.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

- it depends on the lengths. the worst case scenario for thoma would be if he somehow had to choose between you and his work - that would terrify him, even though there's no way it would ever happen. other than that, since you're way up on his priority list, there's not much that he wouldn't do for you.

[shijiujun]

Lonely Dream | 孤梦

Summary: And when all is done and dusted, sometimes Lao Wen still gets those headaches of his, and the spots where Ah Xu had the nails driven in stil throb in pain on a cold, rainy day.

Some slice of life and domesticity for WenZhou as they enjoy more years than they expected to have initially, together.

Notes: OKAY so there are too many theories going out there for special ep ending, and nah not going there! So the concept of this is SOMEHOW Zhou Zishu saves Wen Kexing at the end of Ep 36, and they need to head into icy mountain cave for a WHILE but not forever. They head back down to Four Seasons Manor once Wen Kexing recovers.

Basically SHL ver. WenZhou, but with TYK ending (where WenZhou fight in the icy mountains for a bit after Wu Xi cures him and then head back down into the world of the living). No immortal lifespan, but hey, they get the rest of their normal lives together! So yeah, they can still eat normally, no snow and ice diet please.

Word Count: 4,500+ 

✨✨ Link on AO3 ✨✨

******

They visit Ah Xiang and Cao Weining’s graves once Wen Kexing’s year-long recovery in the frigid cold of the mountains is complete.

Zhou Zishu says that it is for Lao Wen’s recuperation, but he suspects Wen Kexing, the heartless bastard, knows that he has taken this year too, to finally stop hurting, to stop going through the bone-deep, heart-wrenching terror at the prospect of losing him.

Opening his eyes in the armoury a year ago, his five senses were returned to him, but at what price? Feeling Lao Wen’s cold hands against his, his stark, blinding white hair a horrifying contrast against his beautiful face, and the man almost leaving him.

Leaving him, once again.

Horror turned into anger, the words stuck in his throat, his chest so tight and heart slamming against the bones caging it, Zhou Zishu had regained all that he had lost-

-and then lost the most important thing, person, to him.

Someone he values above his own life, who had lied to him, who had so stupidly, stupidly gave himself up for him.

Zhou Zishu does not want to remember how he survived that day, how he spent minutes, hours, and days after, making sure Lao Wen continued to hang on to his very last breath.

In the past year, the cold he was constantly plagued with had nothing to do with the wintry landscape.

He knows he is pushing it a little — his eyes have rarely left Wen Kexing since they were moved to the mountains at Wu Xi and Senior Ye’s suggestions. Initially, Lao Wen slept and Zhou Zishu had no idea if he would ever wake up.

Before he would even open his eyes, the panic typically set in just like that, gripping him by the throat the moment he woke. Zhou Zishu would have to reach out for Lao Wen across him on the bed, the fear receding only when he heard and felt Lao Wen’s breaths under his fingertips.

For a long time, Zhou Zishu thought that he would be with Lao Wen in this state for the rest of his life. It was not all bad — as long as Lao Wen was alive, who cared if he spent the rest of his years guarding a sleeping Wen Kexing?

Who’s the lazy one now, Lao Wen, he thought plenty of times in the months after, his hands caressing at Wen Kexing’s cheek bones and pale face, which was of the same colour as his white hair.

Fortunately, fortunately… he managed to keep the person he wanted in the end.

They have been so focused on recuperating, stuck in the mountains and in that isolated environment, it was easy to distance themselves from everything that had and was happening outside.

Even though Wen Kexing did not mention a thing, Zhou Zishu knows that he spends some nights awake, looking out into a sky full of stars, quiet and pensive. He knows it, because he does the same.

For Jiu Xiao, for Han Ying, for Qing Luan.

For a young woman who called him Zishu-ge and Sickly Ghost, who threatened to fight him if he left Wen Kexing all alone. A beautiful young woman who should have gotten her happy ending on that tragic afternoon.

For a young man, who had a smile that could light up even the darkest of corners in a place like the Ghost Valley, who would have protected his to-be wife with everything he had.

The pain and grief that comes with losing Ah Xiang and Cao Weining is no easier to bear a year on.

===

Wen Kexing recalls the way she looked that day, all beautiful in her green and red bridal robes, finally able to live a life basking under the sunshine without anything holding her back. That was what he always wanted for her.

What a huge mistake that wedding was.

His whole life, aside from Ah Xu, has been a cycle of repeated mistakes, over and over again. If he had just put his foot down and insisted on not letting Mo Huaiyi in, if he had not just walked away in anger and instead stayed there, they would have stopped Xiao Cao’s death, and Ah Xiang’s after.

Why had he walked off? How did beautiful Ah Xiang, an Ah Xiang he was ready to give away, end up taking her last breath in his arms?

A sting on his right ear pulls him violently out of his depressed reverie, and he yells, “Ow- Ow, ow, ow, Ah Xu!”

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Zhou Zishu says, pulling Wen Kexing’s face close to him by the ear. “There is no point dwelling in the past. Life and death… when the time comes, no one can escape from it.”

Wen Kexing’s eyes sober a little, bitterness flashing across his face. Remnants of his hatred and resentment from more than a year ago, before he met Ah Xu.

“If I had just kept her with me-“

“We all make our choices,” Zhou Zishu says, his voice gentling as he lets Wen Kexing go, but the man does not move away.

“If she had to choose again, she would probably have chosen the same.”

In the cold, their hands find their way to each other, clasping warmly under their thick sleeves, the rims lined with fur.

They stare at the graves for a little longer. And while Wen Kexing has never believed in some higher power up there or the heavens-

-this time, with every ounce of his being, he prays and wishes that Ah Xiang and that pig will find their ways back to each other in the next life, no matter what.

Zhou Zishu’s hand squeezes around his, and Wen Kexing turns to see his Ah Xu’s warm smile and gaze.

“Shall we go home?”

Home. The place where they can live out the rest of their natural lives together.

“Let’s go home,” Wen Kexing agrees.

===

“Ah Xu, that is not the way you-“

Hearing Wen Kexing nag for the thousandth time, Zhou Zishu has finally had enough. Slamming the broad vegetable knife onto the wooden chopping board loudly, he turns and looks at the man next to him.

“I’m not the one who begged me to do this,” Zhou Zishu says, turning to walk away, “You make dinner. I told you it was a waste of time-“

Before he can finish his sentence, warmth engulfs his back, and something sharp snuggles into his shoulder bone. A familiar scent — jasmine, from the incense that Wen Kexing likes to use — wraps around him, hands trapping him in between the counter and the limpet attached to him.

Wen Kexing’s palms close over his hands, then guides them to pick up the knife again. Zhou Zishu stiffens, but does not move away. He lets Wen Kexing curl his own fingers properly over the cabbage, and chop at it neatly, over and over.

They have not yet spoken about this between them, despite laying in the same bed right next to each other night after night. The cave was hardly a luxurious abode and to save effort and space, Zhou Zishu fell asleep next to a comatose Wen Kexing for several months, wanting to ascertain that he was alive and breathing at any given moment.

After Wen Kexing woke, Zhou Zishu continued to sleep next to him, and Lao Wen never once brought it up in conversation.

Coming back to Four Seasons Manor, Wen Kexing naturally turned up in his room instead of the one he was staying at before, already asleep when Zhou Zishu returned to turn in.

This man is his soulmate, the person he would give everything up for no matter what it was. His lost shidi, but even before that, this man was someone who was willing to do everything he could for him. Who cared for him like no one else ever would again.

Beyond that? Zhou Zishu knows of his feelings, and is rather certain of Wen Kexing’s. He supposes that after pledging to save each other’s lives at the expense of their own repeatedly, some things just do not have to be articulated.

Zhou Zishu leans into the hold, relaxing entirely.

At this, it is Wen Kexing’s turn to be stunned at the reciprocation where he was expecting none before, but the man recovers quickly. He snuggles in even closer, the side of his face pressed right up against Zhou Zishu’s. 

His Ah Xu remains still, as if unbothered, and Wen Kexing decides to try his luck.

“Ah Xu,” he angles his head slightly, his mouth brushing lightly over Zhou Zishu’s cheek as he murmurs straight into his ear.

Ah, there it is. Zhou Zishu freezes against him, now making to move his ear out of Wen Kexing’s reach.

“What?”

Wen Kexing smiles, amused and so, so fond.

His voice still low and sultry, he continues, “I think you’re right, you should let me cook instead. You’re murdering the cabbage.”

Zhou Zishu pauses for a good two seconds before turning to glare at Wen Kexing. Wen Kexing recognizes that look, and the warmth on Zhou Zishu’s back vanishes instantly just as he starts waving the knife at him.

“Wen Kexing, don’t you think you’re being ridiculous and childish-“

Laughter fills the kitchen, a sound that is incredibly melodious, immediately soothing all the uneasiness Zhou Zishu feels.

Outside, all twenty disciples try not to peek and look at their shifu and shishu being strange again. One of the younger ones, Xiao Man, cannot help but angle his head in the direction of the kitchen, and then says, “Da-shixiong, shifu is going after shishu with a knife! Is he going to be okay?”

Zhang Chengling sighs inwardly, then smiles and pats the boy on the head.

“That’s shifu’s way of showing how much he cares about shishu.”

Back in the kitchen, having heard that tiny quip from their youngest disciple, Wen Kexing finally stops in his tracks, turning around mid-escape to grab Zhou Zishu around the waist with a hand, and the other going to the hand that is holding onto the knife and stopping his Ah Xu from possibly murdering him.

He sets the knife aside, but his other hand does not move.

“What are you doing,” grumbles Zhou Zishu, looking away, his expression a little stern, as if telling Wen Kexing not to be such a nuisance.

This close, however, Wen Kexing can certainly see the light flush on Ah Xu’s cheekbones. 

If Wen Kexing had to rank all the beautiful bones that Ah Xu has, it would probably be scapulas first, followed by his cheekbones.

Wen Kexing’s eyes dip a little lower.

He thinks collarbones may rank third.

“Ah Xu.”

“What?” sighs Zhou Zishu. “Let me go, the disciples need to finish the last set of practice-“

He is cut off when Wen Kexing swoops downwards, and catches his lips in his.

Zhou Zishu’s eyes go wide, but before he can do anything like move away and out of Wen Kexing’s firm hold, the man circles his waist with both arms, effectively trapping him and bringing him closer.

Wen Kexing’s body temperature tends to run on the colder side these days, a side effect of him having been brought back from the brink of death.

Right now, however, Zhou Zishu can feel nothing else but the scalding heat. His hands move up, intending to push Wen Kexing away, but they end up clutching tight around the man’s broad shoulders.

He does not stop the kiss, letting Wen Kexing’s lips roam as they like.

Outside, an unfortunate Chengling who sees this finds his eyes going wide.

“Erm,” he clears his throat quite loudly, gaining all the disciples’ attention. “Let’s head outside to finish our practice.”

He ushers everyone out, while wondering how the hell he hadn’t seen this coming.

Everything makes so much sense now.

===

Four Seasons Manor grows, and Zhang Chengling along with Bi Xingming end up taking over some classes and teaching of their own.

Wen Kexing does not want to admit it, but it seems that when he asked Ah Xu if he was a servant here, the man actually meant it. His little Chengling, who is not so little anymore, still comes to him to ask for tips or begs him to give some pointers to the other disciples, but most of the time, Wen Kexing is cooking.

He makes breakfast, is involved in lunch, and definitely ends up cooking a feast every dinner. Thankfully, Bi Xingming is unlike his da-shixiong and shifu as he actually has some kitchen sense, but Wen Kexing has truly been demoted to servant in this manor.

A servant that ends up in his master’s bed every night, Wen Kexing thinks then, and feels better about it immediately.

“Shishu, let me help you bring these out,” Bi Xingming says, stepping into the kitchen just as he’s done with the last dish.

“Mnn,” Wen Kexing hums in assent without looking up from his soup, tasting it one last time.

At the very least, these days, Zhou Zishu is able to actually, actually taste the food he lovingly cooks.

“Perfect,” he nods. “Is your shifu not up yet? It’s almost lunch time.”

“Ah…” Bi Xingming blinks, “You said not to disturb him until he wakes up, and he hasn’t left the room since morning.”

Wen Kexing frowns slightly. Sure, he worked Ah Xu over thoroughly last night, but not to the extent that he would need to sleep in for this long. Worry niggling at him, he gets Bi Xingming to start lunch with the other disciples first without waiting for them, and heads in the direction of their room.

The last time Zhou Zishu slept in so late, it was the night he confessed his past to Wen Kexing, of how he caused the deaths of everyone in Four Seasons Manor. He was deathly ill then and emotionally wrung out — things that Wen Kexing loathes to see on Zhou Zishu.

“Ah Xu?” Wen Kexing calls, sliding the door open gently.

The lump under the covers is the same as when he left it this morning. Wen Kexing takes quick strides and goes over, sitting down on the bed next to Ah Xu.

“Ah Xu?” he calls again, his voice soft as he reaches out for Zhou Zishu’s face.

His lips are pale, eyebrows furrowed and perspiring at the forehead.

“Ah Xu, are you ill? What’s wrong?”

Zhou Zishu’s skin is of normal temperature, much to Wen Kexing’s relief. His brain runs through a a million scenarios, none of them good and just as he’s about to yell for Chengling, something clicks in his head.

He does yell for their Chengling in the end, but for a hot bath instead with a pack of herbs and medicine from the stash Wu Xi gave them before he headed back home with Jing Beiyuan.

“Is shifu okay?” he asks, worried.

“He will be,” Wen Kexing says, lifting Zhou Zishu out from under the covers and heading for the bath. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch him. You continue training with the other disciples, otherwise when Ah Xu wakes up he’s going to scold all of you again.”

As Zhou Zishu soaks in the steaming medicinal bath, Wen Kexing sits right next to him, pillowing his head on his arms, which are sitting on the rim of the wooden tub and stares at him.

A few years have passed since the days when Wen Kexing despaired at Zhou Zishu dying in a short few years and the peace they have now makes it easy to not think about the past. He forgets sometimes that despite being healed, despite him giving his life force to Ah Xu, the man’s body has been to hell and back with the nails.

And forcing them out of his body forcefully while he mistakenly believed that Wen Kexing was dead, wanting to take revenge for him-

For the rest of their time together, Wen Kexing knows he will forever be guilt-ridden at this. If only he had just told Ah Xu, if only he didn’t make another stupid decision, there would have been no need for the armoury. No need for self-sacrificial plays, no need for lost time.

That Zhou Zishu would love him still and be with him, that is nothing short of a miracle.

On days like these, when the weather turns just the slightest bit wet and cold, his body starts to hurt, especially the points where he kept the nails in. All seven of them, the stupid man.

Wen Kexing inches forward and presses a kiss to the man’s temple.

For this life and every life after this one, Wen Kexing swears he will always be good to Zhou Zishu.

===

He loves and hates Wen Kexing’s hair, even after several years have passed. They are nearing the ten-year mark since leaving the mountains, and Zhou Zishu has slept next to this man every single day after, but whenever Wen Kexing shows up, Zhou Zishu has to admit that his breath is always taken away.

Wen Kexing looks ethereally gorgeous with those white strands, his features standing out even more clearly, not that Zhou Zishu would ever tell him that lest it goes to his head. However, it is a reminder that his silly, stupid shidi and now husband would dare to sacrifice his own life for his without telling him.

It is a constant reminder that he lost him, even if momentarily.

“Ah Xu, why are you are staring at me like that? You’re going to make me shy. Did you miss me? I was only gone for two days,” Wen Kexing says unabashedly during dinner.

At once, coughs and chokes go around the table, and the clanking of dropped chopsticks on the table echo through the dining hall.

Zhou Zishu takes a deep breath to compose himself and resists the urge to fight with the man over dinner. It would be a waste of food, not to mention a futile argument seeing that Wen Kexing has not changed at all since the first time they met. As long as he does not break out into poetry-

“Ah Xu, I missed you too. It is so fortunate that your heart is akin to mine-“

At that, everyone immediately stands from the table and excuses themselves, stumbling over one another as they parrot that they are full and do not want to have anymore.

It is an open secret that they are together — not because they are hiding it, but simply because they find no need to verbalize what they are to others — and if it was another couple that was stuck in this situation, he would possibly find it amusing, but Wen Kexing is incorrigible and has been for years. 

Zhou Zishu finds that while he loves the man and is utterly devoted to him, is willing to die for him, at times like these maybe they should have both just stayed dead.

“Wen Kexing, have you had enough?”

He reaches out, intending to pinch at Wen Kexing as a lesson, but the man catches his hand within his deft fingers and brings it upwards so his hand is cupping one side of his face. Wen Kexing turns his head a little to press his lips to the open palm, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I missed you,” Wen Kexing repeats. “It’s strange how it has only been two days, but I miss you like I’ve never missed anything else before.”

The impending reprimand dies on his lips.

Fine, just this once.

Zhou Zishu sighs and pinches at Wen Kexing’s cheek instead.

“Ow, ow! Ah Xu, Ah Xu, this face is a work of the heavens, how can you trample on it like this?!”

Zhou Zishu’s eyes are once again drawn to Wen Kexing’s white locks, and he unconsciously reaches out.

As if knowing what Zhou Zishu is thinking about, Wen Kexing grabs for the hand again, interlacing their fingers together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I faked my death, and then not telling you at the end, before I….” Wen Kexing says, swallowing with difficulty. “Ah Xu, if I could change it, I would. But at the end, if I was given the same choice, I would have chosen the same.”

It hurts to think about that morning, seeing Wen Kexing’s hair all white and almost lifeless, his hands dropping from his.

“I know,” Zhou Zishu breathes, hiding his face in Wen Kexing’s shoulder. “I know.”

===

Zhou Zishu hears of the supposed ambush on Four Seasons Manor while he  has half a day’s journey left before he gets home.

The unrest in jianghu truly never ends; their fight with the Scorpions, with Tian Chuang, with Prince Jin and Zhao Jing was rewarded with peace for a few years, but people never say contented for long. Old sects are wiped out and new ones emerge. Most of them know not to mess with Four Seasons Manor as his and Wen Kexing’s reputations indeed precede themselves, but it is unavoidable, perhaps, for some newer and ambitious ones to mistakenly think they can take both of them on.

Well, they must have made sure Zhou Zishu was not in the manor before striking, as if Wen Kexing could not take all of them on himself.

He arrives in the nick of time in the heat of battle, although a quick glance shows that Four Seasons Manor is still holding up pretty well, with Zhang Chengling and Bi Xingming leading the rest of the disciples.

And there he is, Wen Kexing, all regal in his red embroidered robes, and his white hair pinned up neatly. Every movement from his sharp and deadly fan strikes true. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, his eyes revealing a thirst for blood that Zhou Zishu hasn’t seen in a while.

He shivers at the want that hits him, even though it is not the time and place for it.

Zhou Zishu lands opportunely behind Wen Kexing and parries a blow that was coming straight for Wen Kexing back.

The both of them exchange a glance, and wordlessly, delve right back into the fight.

When the dust settles a few hours later, Zhou Zishu makes sure injured disciples are looked at while others clean up the mess. His attention finally freed up so he can focus solely on Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu turns, only to see his husband a distance away from him, supporting himself against a wall.

He recognizes the signs of Wen Kexing’s brain-splitting headaches immediately, and rushes over.

“Lao Wen!”

“Shishu!”

Zhou Zishu catches Wen Kexing just as he collapses, his legs giving out under him. His fingers immediately search for Wen Kexing’s pulse.

This is an all-too familiar scene, but Zhou Zishu cannot remember when this last happened. His body growing cold at the implications, all the fears are now suddenly dredged up from the trenches of trauma sustained at a point in time long ago.

“Go get Physician Yao,” Zhou Zishu snaps at whichever disciple is standing closest to them, before picking Wen Kexing up.

Zhang Chengling turns up in their room before the physician does, and whatever fear he is experiencing right now abates slightly.

Before the manor started to grow, there was only the three of them. If anyone understands what he is feeling right now, it would be Chengling.

“Shifu…” he says, trailing off as he kneels down next to the bed and looks at Wen Kexing. “Shishu hasn’t had this in years, what happened?”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” Zhou Zishu exhales heavily. “He could be just.. too tired.”

They watch over him until the physician arrives. Zhou Zishu refuses to be chased out, and the tightness in his chest only disappears once she rolls her eyes at him after testing Wen Kexing’s pulse.

“The both of you are not young anymore,” Physician Yao almost scoffs. “And the injuries and illnesses that the both of you share combined can fill up a list a mile long. He hasn’t exerted himself like this in a long while, suddenly letting it all out in a fight like that, of course there are bound to be side effects. Stop looking at him as if he’s about to die.”

Zhou Zishu is about to thank her, when a weak rasp comes from the bed, “… been there, done that.”

Relief floods him at the sound of Wen Kexing’s voice, and immediately after, anger burns hot through him as the man’s words sink in, “Wen Kexing!”

Physician Yao retreats, knowing by now not to give instructions to them both when they get like this. Instead, speaking to any of their disciples would be much more reliable.

===

Later, after all has quietened down for certain, the stench of blood fading somewhat, Wen Kexing blinks languidly, not wanting to move at all, or do anything.

If he was to die in this position right now, he would have zero complaints.

Zhou Zishu pats at the back of his head gently as Wen Kexing lies almost half on him, his ear pressed over Zhou Zishu’s heart, comforted by the strong beat. Years later, the both of them approaching the big five-o, and Wen Kexing is still like a child sometimes.

Well, he’s making up for lost time.

He is greedy for more years with Ah Xu, in this life and every single life after. A hundred, a thousand years and more. Every little bit, he wants to spend with Ah Xu.

“Ah Xu,” he murmurs, and feels the vibration of the man’s response through his chest, “Before, I could not have what I wanted. I could not play when I wanted to, there was no one to teach me martial arts when I wanted to learn and the things I wanted I could not afford.”

“The person I wanted to keep, I was too late.”

This conversation seems so far away now, but is as clear to the both of them as if it happened just yesterday. That rainy, storming night.

A night of despair and hopelessness.

Zhou Zishu huffs in amusement.

“And now?” he asks.

Wen Kexing looks up, and cheekily responds, “Well, the martial arts part aside, Ah Xu, you pay for everything now, so I can afford everything! And in terms of play… you would know best how well I play now with-“

He’s cut off with a warning look from Zhou Zishu, although the man does not attempt to jostle him, still worried about his earlier headache and injuries sustained from the fight.

Wen Kexing loves this man, to the depths of hell and back.

“And… the person I want to keep, is right here with me.”

Zhou Zishu’s answering smile lights up every fibre of being.

They have forever to look forward to.

***

[m00nskyyy]

Valentine day with you (Yagami squad)

Takayuki Yagami

- It's not uncommon for him to have many paperworks to do, so he tries to finish them all before the valentine day because he wants to spend the whole day with you. Even if he still has to work right on the day, he always manage to spend the rest of the night with you.

- Considering that he doesn't have that much money to buy you something very expensive, he'll still bring you a gift along with chocolates or even flowers.

- Since valentine is a special day, expects him to be more affectionate than usual, a lot kisses or sweet words. Of course, he'll hold your hands while both of you walking down the streets.

- Yagami would take you out for a fancy dinner, for the next thing, he will ask you if you want to go somewhere and if you don't really have a particular place for it, you both will still enjoy taking a night stroll together whether to Hamakita Park or just around the city.

- At the end of the day, he'll walk you home and ask you if today was a good day. Just to make sure you're feeling happy today, he'll give you goodnight kiss after that.

Masaharu Kaito

- Surely you know his type. Yes, he'll definitely have everything planned a week in advance just in case something goes wrong or forget.

- Most definitely to wake you up with breakfast that he makes himself (everything might be heart shaped) that covers the whole table. If you're feeling lazy to get to the table, he doesn't mind taking it onto the bed for you and eats there together.

- The first thing he does after breakfast is giving you all of the gifts he prepared for you because he rather sees you open them first thing than last.

- If you prepare a gift for him as well, he probably on verge of tears and throws you into a hug. No doubt, he will cherish all of your gifts forever.

- Says super cheesy shit at random times just to fluster you, especially in public. He just likes seeing you blush and smiles because you look so cute in his eyes.

Fumiya Sugiura

- Sugiura is like a sweetest boyfriend you can get because he radiates comfort energy. He wakes you up by giving small pecks all over your face and ask you to guess what day it is.

- Definitely first takes you to a new popular café to get breakfast and pays for it before going through the city and eating street food and shopping, if you want.

- He also will says "I love you" or how much he loves you randomly, just because he wants you to know he loves you deeply and hopes you do too.

- If you're interested, he will be more than willing to teach you how to skateboard. Don't worry about falling 'cause he will be ready to catch you.

Toru Higashi

- Before he meets you, he doesn't care about valentine day at all and kinda thinks it's stupid to even celebrate it. But different case, when he has you now, he actually willing to celebrate it only for you.

- He'll gives you a few gifts like 1 or 2, but they have the most thought and effort put into them so it doesn't matter how many there are.

- It's hard for him to express feelings through words, so expect him to express it through actions and act of service and will do anything for you the whole day, even though he does it everyday for you.

- Higashi isn't the type to say lovey dovey cheesy things but since it's on special occasion, it'll probably slip out at a random times after he thinks about it for like minutes. Yeah, he gets super embarrassed after.

[elysianslove]

hi💗 i saw that you opened up your requests to jujutsu kaisen and i was wondering if i could request something,,reader is dating our favorite bandaged shaman sensei and they are both teachers at the school. and a little scenario when they invite the 3 first years over to their house for Christmas or winter holidays,,since they all have complicated family situations and the reader notices this and tells satoru they should do something,,so a cute little mom and dad moment 🥺 thank you

hi anon!!! this request was so, so cute i hope i did it justice hehe, and i hope you enjoy <3

━━ satoru gojō feels like home. in every sense of the word, he feels like home. he smells like it too, but that’s possibly because you’ve lived with him for much too long, and been with him for even longer. he’s your safe haven, your safety net, a constant, grounding presence in your life. you think that, maybe, you’ve always loved him, before the confessions, before the friendship, in another lifetime even. if you’re willing to believe in curses, you can believe in blessings too, right?

that said, anywhere with him is home too. you could be stranded in the middle of nowhere and still sleep just as well as you would’ve in your own bed, so long as his arms are around you. the too busy streets of tokyo somehow lessen in their overwhelmingness once his hand fits against yours, once his thumb is lightly brushing against the back of your hand. the quiet, eerie atmosphere of a random motel the two of you had no choice but to stay suddenly feels lavish and luxurious as soon as his lips find yours, and immediately the dim, sombre light of the room only illuminates him more.

it had never mattered what your life had been before meeting him, before loving him. all the pain and hardship and suffering was completely erased from memory, as if the first glance from him was an offer of a blank slate, a new beginning. of course, every relationship has it’s unstable moments, and with laughter come tears, with excitement comes dullness, quiet, and with sunny days come cloudy, rainy ones. it’s inevitable, but you two are strong pillars of it. the pain and suffering comes crawling back to you, but you brush it off, reminding yourself that this is your home now. he is your home now.

and every moment with him matters. especially holidays.

although neither of you properly celebrate christmas, the festive atmosphere still exists within the four walls you two share. small marshmallows sway in an ocean of hot chocolate in a mug, flames dancing proudly in a fireplace before you, a knitted blanket offering you both warmth and comfort, snow piling on your windowsill. the winter holidays are mostly spent like this with gojō. there’s just something about the cold that drives the both of you to utter laziness, and it’s not unlike you to easily welcome any source of physical affection from your lover.

it’s the night before the last teaching day, before you’re sending off your students to their homes for the holiday. the room is dark, save for the light from a lamp to gojō’s right, and the light that comes from the tv playing in front of you. it’s some movie that you’re not entirely focused on as your cheek rests against his chest, his arm slung around you. despite the fact that you’re as tired as ever, your mind is alive with endless thoughts, and gojō seems to notice when he lifts a hand up to poke at your temple.

“what’s going on up there?” he asks, shifting slightly to sit you up straighter. he disregards the phone in his hand, placing it next to lamp, before turning to face you properly.

“gojō,” you start, your voice smaller than usual. this doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he nods encouragingly. “where’s itadori going for the holidays?”

it’s quiet for a moment, and you watch his expressions carefully. he looks thoughtful, slightly bothered. “i—“ he begins, his voice wavering slightly as he admits, “i didn’t consider that at all.”

you hum sadly. “he has no family, right?”

gojō shakes his head in response, adding, “none.” the silence stretches out between the two of you, the background noise of the tv a filler, not disrupting, but balancing. “all three of the first years have familial issues, now that i — now that i think about it.”

“do you think they can stay here?” you suggest, without a second of doubt. you don’t entirely regret it, but you wince slightly at the look of his face. you’re ready to drop the subject if the matter is too uncomfortable for him, but you know your lover too well, well enough to know he’ll agree to it just as eagerly as you’d suggested it.

“that’s a great idea,” he confirms for you, and the careful expression you had morphs into glee. you beam up at him, before leaping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you embrace him tightly. one arm weaves around your waist, with the other travels up, leaving his hand cupping the back of your head as he holds you to him. “you’re too good for this world, my love,” he tells you, whispering his confession in your ear. you only push back with a smile, and plant a heavy kiss to his lips.

you announce the decision to the first years right after the teaching day ends, while alongside gojō. he’s standing comfortably, hands pressed into his pockets, an easy smile on his face as he surveys both you and the students before you. they’re standing with careful, solemn looks on their faces, as if they’re about to be sent off on a serious, life endangering mission.

“what is this about?” nobara wonders, her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

you only smile widely back at her, before softly saying, “gojō and i are inviting the three of you to stay at our home. for the holidays.”

nobara’s eyes soften slightly at the words, while megumi’s face remains impassive. yuuji, however, has his eyes wide and jaw slack, clearly the only one capable of speaking because he yells out a rather aggressively shocked, “what!”

“is this —“ megumi starts, breaking off and interrupting himself to swallow thickly. “are you being serious?”

you nod eagerly. “i want you three to feel safe and to enjoy the holidays too! only if you’re comfortable with that, of course, but our home is your home,” you address them.

gojō hums playfully from next to you, adding, “every night is hot chocolate night.”

yuuji and nobara are automatically sold, to the exaggerated point of throwing their arms around you, collectively suffocating you in their embrace. megumi still looks wary of the idea, and you notice this easily. offering him a soft smile, you reinstate softly, “i just want you to feel safe.”

he smiles.

“you have a really nice home, sensei,” megumi comments as he surveys the living room. you’re not sure which of you he’s addressing, or if he’s addressing the both of you, but either way your heart softens at the awe in his eyes. you’re curled up next to gojō comfortably, the three first years surrounding the two of you, and there’s an array of food options before you.

for the first day, you’d eaten dinner out in a restaurant, but it’s way past nighttime now, the stars visibly shimmering in the sky, the moon lost within a blanket of them and the clouds. the snow falling isn’t heavy enough to have your world disappear in white, not yet at least, but it’s slowly and surely piling up.

“hot, hot, hot—“ yuuji whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it as he places his mug down. you huff out a laugh at him, watching as nobara pinches at his arm and scolds him for ‘being stupid.’

you lean more comfortably into gojō, admiring the scenery before you. he shifts, leaning his lips nearer to your ear as he whispers, “i’m glad we did this for them.”

you nod in agreement. “me too,” you say.

“you know what it makes me realize?” gojō starts. you hum, urging him to continue. “how good of a person you are, how lucky i am —“ your smile widens at his words, cheeks aching as they start to flush. “— how good of a parent you’ll be one day.”

you freeze. “parent?”

gojō only smiles when you move back to observe his face. although his smile is teasing, his eyes are serious. he’s serious. “one day?”

you try to imagine it. your own family, with him, raising your children with him, sharing hot chocolate with them, watching as they bicker with each other. spending eternity with him. the image and fantasy comes so easy to you, it’s dizzying. gently, you fall back into his arms, curling up against him as you whisper, “one day.”

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Steven Stone Fluff Alphabet

To go along with my NSFW Alphabet, I decided to do some fluff for my favourite rock nerd. Hope you enjoy!

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

He loves being outside with you, going for hikes, walks and sea swims. Likes to learn with you too, wandering around museums and discovering new things about science, history and culture.

He probably won’t take you mining unless you’re really into it, it can be quite tedious and dangerous, but he loves when you help him polish stones, or help make them into decorations or jewellery.

He has a soft spot for lazy days where you two are draped across his couch watching trashy reality TV shows and fun, animated films

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Likes how kind and caring you are, not only to him, but to his Pokemon and almost everyone else.

He thinks you’re beautiful in every way, but he in particular thinks your eyes sparkle like the rarest, most precious gem he has ever seen.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

Steven is a little oblivious, so you might have to tell him that you’re down, but as soon as he knows, it’s his mission to cheer you up! Lots of kisses and cuddles, your favourite meals delivered, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen. If you’re sad due to an insecurity, he will wax poetic about how amazing that part of you is to him.

If you’re very stressed due to work or school, and you finally have time off, he’s going to whisk you away to a sun-drenched beach in Alola, the finest room in Hotel Richissime in Lumiouse, or his gorgeous villa by the Batte Zone in Sinnoh (provided he hasn’t given it to some ten-year-old yet lol) to help you unwind and enjoy yourself.

When he’s down, he needs reassurance, and lots of physical affection. He might also throw himself into his work/hobbies to an extreme degree, skipping meals and sleeping little, so you’ll have to ensure he gets fed and a good few hours of sleep until he starts feeling better.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

He would love a little family with you, a couple kids running around, maybe in Mossdeep, but he’s down with moving inland, or to your home region if you’re not from Hoenn, if you would prefer.

He definitely dreams about kissing you goodbye and ruffling his kiddos’ hair before he goes to work. Since his mother died when he was so young, he never really got to experience the classic nuclear family, so he longs to provide it to his own children.

He’d like to go back to college too, get his Masters and maybe PhD in Geology and work in that field. He really does not want to be involved with the Devon Corporation, so he hopes he can work with it as little as possible

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

I would say your relationship is equal for the most part, the only thing that tips the scales in Steven’s favour is his wealth and connections. He can get you things or into places that you, as a regular person, wouldn’t be able to at all otherwise.

He doesn’t hold this over your head, he finds people who do that rather gross, and he’s not your sugar daddy either. He does spoil you sometimes, but that’s just one way he expresses his fondness for you.

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

Steven is a reasonable man, so I think once he’s calmed down and thought about it more, he’s ready to forgive you if you’re sorry, Now, this all depends on the nature of why you were in the wrong, if that’s the case. He will let small things slide, and is willing to compromise on bigger things, but if you do something like cheat on him, he will never forgive you.

When he is in the wrong though, he will own up to it, your relationship is more important than his pride.

He doesn’t go for cheap shots or low blows, and he only raises his voice if he is really pissed. If this is before you live together, and the fight occurs at his house, he will get you to leave, but makes sure you get home safe.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

So. Many. Rocks.

Seriously, your shelves will be filled with amethyst clusters and pretty pebbles. Some of this rocks will be jewels encrusted in some stellar accessories.

Beyond that, he’ll get you things he thinks you might need. Complaining about your coffee maker? He’s just gotten you a top of the line model with a prepaid subscription to receive new pods full of expensive Kalosian coffee every month for the next five years. Need a new bag? He’ll have one that costs double your rent shipped to you by the end of the day.

His gifts are expensive and high quality, but he does not buy you them for the sake of flaunting wealth. He just thinks you’d like them.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

Steven feels like nothing can bother him. His smile is wider and his eyes sparkle whenever he thinks of you. He compliments you all the time and gives you lots of tender kisses and touches, spoils you a bit too. He doesn’t really brag, he thinks your amazingness stands for itself.

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

He just thought you were very pretty when you first met, very sweet and cute. Evidently he was correct :)

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

Steven rarely gets jealous. He’s not an arrogant guy in any way really, but he is confident in himself and in your relationship.

Things like money, power or status don’t threaten him, but appearance, particularity musculature, does. Steven’s quite the lean, slim guy, and sometimes he thinks he might not be strong or masculine enough for you, no matter how much you disagree. It honestly made him hurt a little when you jokingly called Leon, the Galar champion, a himbo.

When he is jealous, he gets a little stiff, he frowns, he holds onto you a little tighter if you’re around the person who makes him jealous. When he’s alone, he laments about it.

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

Steven is a suave, smooth kisser, each kiss makes you feel like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Your first kiss with him felt right, he gently cupped your cheeks and kissed you slowly in a manner that portrayed exactly how he felt about you.

He likes to kiss your cheek and forehead, and sometimes your knuckles if he’s holding your hand.

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

He loves how kind you are, loves how you treat his Pokémon like each one is the cutest ever, even if they are decidedly not cute. He likes how you look after him, making sure he sleeps and eats, showing up to his house randomly with treats or just to visit him. He really appreciates it.

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

Making you his spouse would make him so happy!

His proposal would be very intimate, a night time picnic, either stargazing, watching fireworks or a meteor shower. He’d turn to you, with a soft smile, and tell you exactly how much you mean to him, and how much he loves you. Then, he would take out a small velvet box and ask you to marry him. The ring would be jaw-droppingly ornate, with your favourite gem in the middle.

The wedding would be intimate too, very swanky, with geode centrepieces and formal attire. He’d ultimately like to hold it in somewhere like Reflection Cave, but he’s down to hold it in a castle or hotel otherwise, with nice gardens of course.

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

He calls you sweetheart, darling, love, my gem.

You call him Stevie, babe and dreamboat. Sometimes rock nerd or dork if he’s going on about geology.

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

He’s pretty open, once you two have been together for a good while. He trusts you enough to tell you his insecurities and darkest thoughts, like how he feels burdened by the weight of his responsibilities, how his strained relationship with his father affects him, or how he still has trauma regarding the loss of his mother.

Just make sure to give him a big hug after he tells you, ok?

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

Steven cannot cook to save his life. He never needed to learn, they had a personal chef at home when he was growing up, and when he was older he would go out for food or get it delivered all the time. This continues when you get together, he always insists on paying.

That being said, he’s definitely up to learn, especially if you teach him, or if you can’t cook either, he’d love to learn with you.

Q = Quirk (a random quality/ability that is beneficial to their relationship.)

Steven has a super gentle, super careful touch, which means he gives the most amazing scalp massages. You have no choice but to melt when his fingers are caressing your head.

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they cliché or creative?)

Extremely romantic, more elegant than corny. He wants you to know how beautiful and amazing you are, and he wants to put in effort to prove that point.

S = Sleep (who falls asleep first? do they need their s/o close to them? do they have any bad habits?)

You do usually, he likes to watch you snooze before he falls asleep. He likes to have you close to him, but he can sleep without you just fine, not waking up next to you is really more of a pain to him.

For bad habits? Steven has a tendency to lose track of time and go to bed very late. It can be frustrating when you need a good cuddle before bed, and when you have to deal with a barely-conscious, sometimes grouchy Steven in the morning.  

T = Thrill (do they need to spice up their relationship with new things or do they stick to a routine? how often do they do new things?)

If Steven wants to go somewhere or do something, he does because he has the luxury to. So when it comes to new experiences, like visiting somewhere new, trying a new activity, and you both want to go there or try it, he will have it organised straight away.

He only really has a routine when league business is in full swing, and when he is no longer champion, anything goes. Though if you have a routine, he will work around it.

U = Unity (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? what traits do they share?)

Steven, due to his wealth and connections, had a habit of dropping everything to go on trips or rock-hunting whenever he felt like, which was detrimental to many of his relationships, mainly because he wouldn’t notify people before he left.

You, however, have taught him the importance of taking other people’s feelings and opinions into account. You’re so attentive with him, and in turn, he learns how to do just that with all the important people in his life.

You’re both kind people, who care deeply about each other and Pokemon

V = Value (how important is their relationship to them? what is it worth compared to other things in their life?)

At the beginning, the relationship is just a luxury for him, something he enjoys, but not something he needs in his life. But the longer you two are together, the more important you and your needs become to him.

You definitely become his point of focus, your happiness is his goal. He doesn’t stop engaging in his hobbies and interests, but he does do so in a manner that disrupts your relationship the least.

You are his rock, the love of his life, and he puts you before everything.

W = Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon.)

Cried while drunk at his Bachelor Party because he just really wanted to be married to you already and he could not understand why he had to wait to do so.

X = XOXO (do they like to kiss and cuddle? are they upfront about their relationship or rather shy when in public?)

Steven is quite affectionate at home, lots of soft kisses, hugs and long cuddles.

In public, his displays of affection are very elegant and appropriate. He wants you to know he loves you and finds you beautiful, even when in public. He likes to hold your hand, or rest his on your hip or the small of your back.

Will kiss your lips as a greeting or to say goodbye, but will mostly stick to occasionally kissing your cheek or forehead when you’re out.

Y = Yearning (how do they cope when they spend time away from their s/o? do they miss their s/o?)

Steven really starts missing you when there’s no way you can be together, like when he’s abroad and/or working. Usually during these times, he texts frequently and calls you at least once a day, provided he’s not stuck in some cave. He likes to gaze fondly at pictures of you, planning how he’ll make it up to you when you reunite

Z = Zoo (do they have pets? do they want some in the future?)-

Of course! He is/was a champion after all, so he has his pokemon team, plus some random beldum floating around. You treat his like your own, and vice versa, so it’s a very happy household.

[scones-and-texting-and-murder]

Bookends

(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )

Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link

Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.

Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.

With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.

Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.

To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.

As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.

“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.

They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.

“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”

“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.

Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.

Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”

Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.

“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”

Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”

Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”

Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.

Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.

Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.

When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”

Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”

They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.

“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”

Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”

She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”

Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.

“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.

The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.

Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”

“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.

The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”

“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.

“I always do,” Cas assures him.

When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.

Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.

Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.

“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.

Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Sadism & Trolling (Vega Headcanons)

NGL, I’m gonna be straight with y’all...

I miss Vega! And uh, since I've been listening to his videos lately, I wanted to write a oneshot for him until I decided on some headcanons at the last minute. 

I'm not sure what role the Inchoate Daemon Listener in his more recent videos would play in the future, so I tried my hands on writing his 'lover'. I always wanted to write a morally dubious Listener anyway! 

So this is entirely separate from the Inchoate Daemon Listener. 

Vega calls his Listener 'Hamster' for their snacking habits. He would only calls you 'Dear heart' when he's feeling vulnerable or in intimate situations. 

He meets them before Ivan's story. He was actually walking around humans for a change of pace, feeding on the faint lingering negative emotions hovering around the park. It's the human equivalent of getting a cup of coffee in the morning to kickstart their day.

Suddenly, Vega felt intense and strange emotions coming from somewhere in the area. It's a combination of righteous fury, hurt and glee. 

He tracks the owner of the maelstrom to find you. A lone human sitting on a bench underneath a tall, shady tree. Your expression is a total contrast to what you're feeling. It's calm and almost bored. 

After using magic to do some digging and breaching personal privacy, Vega found out that you plan an act of horrible revenge on a cheating partner. He sticks around to watch it all play out. 

He loved the show. So much so he claims you as his charge. 

However, jokes on him; you're a passive and lazy person. Your default setting is living life operating on the least amount of brain cells and effort. So after feeding on your heartbreak from the breakup, Vega has no idea what the fuck to do with you. 

So he subtly pulls the strings around you in hopes to get you to feel upset or at least annoyed; coffee spilt on your work laptop, someone bought that last slice of your favourite cake, bad internet connection at home, anything! 

But the most you'd (unknowingly) give him is a sigh before you look for something else to occupy your time. To Vega, he feels like a first-time owner to a pet that isn't behaving as it should be. You're like a hamster running in its ball, utterly oblivious of the world outside.  

When you do react emotionally, it's like a wildfire - a roaring and unapologetic blaze that will burn for days. Especially when it comes to negative emotions. However, it takes such a long time to build up and rarely does it even spark. Honestly, to you, working up to such a passionate response is a hassle. 

Unfortunately for Vega, he realises this a little too late. 

The two of you officially meet when you begin to notice that certain objects around the house aren't exactly where they should be. Like how the coffee cup that you instinctively put away from the laptop is now right next to it when you came out of the bathroom. How you can never find your favourite red mug or t-shirt despite you just wash them. 

Slowly but surely, you feel like you suddenly gain an invisible annoying and unwanted roommate. 

Vega detects your annoyance and plans to 'farm' it, only for it to hilariously backfire when you begin to hit up the local priests to discuss about an exorcism and thus, raise a potential covert risk. 

When he first appeared in front of you, your immediate action was to grab a baseball bat, shock and indignation flare within you. 

"So you're the fucking bastard that has been eating my fucking Pringles!" 

"What!? No! And I swear to any God you believe in, I’ll make you regret it if you swing that thing at me."

“Hah! Is that a challenge!? Buy back my snacks. Now. Before I break your bones and sell them to the black market!”

"News flash, Hamster: you're the one who's been eating all of them. Those after midnight snacks? What? Did you think you were sleep-eating?" 

"Who are you calling hamster!?"

"Of course, that's the one you have a problem with..." 

Do you know that one Tv Trope? The 'savvy guy, energetic girl' and 'monster and the maiden'? You and Vega are something in-between, where Vega is determined to feed on you, his charge, while you make it your life mission to be his biggest inconvenience ever. 

That being said, there's a lot of things you share in common with him. For one thing, you live by the 'not my circus, not my monkey' rule, so you don't particularly care what Vega does outside of your life as long as it doesn't cause you any problems. 

You both can be petty AF, and if one is petty, the other will automatically prepare for the other's revenge. 

Vega likes to give you shit for being an Unempowered Human, and in return, you would do everything in your power to piss him off. EX: You’ll make a joke about his shoe size. You know what they say, small shoes mean small... package. And besides, he's a Daemon, right? Doesn't that mean he has hooves? 

Both of you toed the line between violence and resignation, which is impressive that you're still alive. You made it clear to him that if he wants to take you down, you'll take him down with you, and Vega can respect that. 

Vega starts to catch feelings for you after you blackmail him into going to the cinema with you because there's a discount on the tickets for a pair of friends/couple. He's shocked to find that he enjoyed himself that night. 

As for you, you start to feel fond of him when he orchestrated a string of misfortune on your asshole of a colleague. He never once admit it, but at that point, you could read his body language and behaviours rather well. How could you not when your colleague’s series of unfortunate events result in a whole week of nothing but good vibes for you.

Neither you nor Vega confesses your feelings, but you ended up in a romantic relationship nonetheless.

Vega has never fallen in love before, so this emotion is very strange and new for him. From his annoying charge, you've become his most cherished person in the world. 

Vega protects you the only way he knows how. By making the people who upset you miserable or just straight up terminate their trial period of existence. As a Sadism Daemon, Vega is very well aware of the stigma that comes with his kind, and it really doesn't help that he loves what he does, so you have to rein him in from time to time. 

On that note, expect this Daemon to be possessive as hell. No matter what you do around the house, Vega would attach himself to you. Oh, you're working on the couch with the laptop on your lap? He'll move you so you'll sit on his lap while he watches TV. You're relaxing in the bathtub? Scoot forward, he wants to sit behind you. If you're talking to a friend on the phone, he'll peppered kisses and leave hickies on your neck in an attempt for you to end the call. If he could, he would hide you from the world itself so only he could have you. So please stomp on his feet when he starts to sweetly suggest you disappear with him. 

If it's raining at night, both of you would silently lie on the bed together, just basking in one the other's presence. If you fall asleep first, Vega will turn you into his little spoon.

In terms of dating and due to his possessive and protective nature, most of your dates would be in your home. Movie marathons, him playing as your audience for your video game matches, monopoly sessions ending up in a messy divorce sitcom or just napping together. Good for you if you're a homebody. If you're the outgoing type? Good luck; you'll need to be as persuasive as him to budge Vega. The most Vega is willing to go are breakfast/lunch/dinner dates. The fewer eyes on you, the better. 

It's not long before Vega stops feeding on you entirely. He only takes a few destructive emotions that overwhelm you and help you work the rest out in a healthy manner. 

That's when he starts to think about spending his forever with you. 

Don't be mistaken, though; Vega is still a sadism Daemon that doesn’t take kindly to those getting in his way but to you? His one happiness in life? He's your loyal lover. 

-

OK. I might have gone a bit crazy with Vega but in my defence, I had like 3 mugs of tea and a tub of Belgian chocolate ice-cream and ramen last night after midnight plus a weird longing for him. 

It’s weird.