#and then me having to drive my dad to the er in another city on tuesday night

[shatterthefragments]

Ok mum talked to me like an adult now that she’s slept instead of sulking and apparently slamming the door as she came in was to ‘slam the door on me’

[axlaru]

God I need to do something fun and or relaxing but idk what to do.

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny slid into the taxi and closed the door, not even a second later did the man merge into traffic. Sneaking a glance at the driver, who somehow looked even worse than Danny did when he hadn't slept in four days, Danny slowly peeled off the sticky note from the seat.

glancing down, he found Clockwork's familiar handwriting. (which he would like to add, shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but then again, he shouldn't be having tea time with him either.)

Do what you think is right, only then does your future look bright.

well, alright then. does that mean Danny should jump out the moving car? because he didn't think walking into some poor rich dude's house and forcing his company on the family was the right thing to do. He thought it was the most convenient at the moment, sure, but not the right one.

flipping the note over, Danny found more writing;

Do not jump out of the car, you've already come this far. Patience will be a virtue. This is worth the persue. Do not worry, there is no hurry.

"what the hell, Clockwork?" Danny quietly hissed, glaring off to the side and out the window. "You become friends with Ghostwriter or something? and what do you mean don't worry? I'm literally running from the government. if nothing else, that's probably the one thing I need to worry about."

Another sticky note poped up, this time stuck to the back of the driver's seat. Glancing up, Danny waited a second for the driver to be distracted before reaching out and snatching the note.

the only thing on it was a very shitty smily face.

what the fuck.

"this isn't funny, clocky!" Danny hissed again, glancing up to make sure the driver hadn't heard him. "mom and dad literally have my ecto signature, they only need a single hint of which direction to go before it becomes all too easy to find me again."

closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath.

holding it for a second, then exhaling. Alright. Fine, if Clockwork isn't worried or against this, then there's no reason not to do this. (well besides the obvious one; it's rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and whatnot.)

"fine, but I'm only staying long enough to snag some food and then I'm gone, got it?" Danny grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the window. he didn't receive another note, so he leaned back and watched as the city passed. Slowly buildings spread out, and green lawns turned into green fields.

staring down at the smiley face, Danny shook his head, carefully he pulled out his phone and removed the case. shoving the sticky note inside, Danny put the case back on and put his phone in his pocket. it was dead, so he couldn't do anything else with it so might as well make it useful. who knows when Danny might need that little bit of ectoplasm.

A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a stop next to a black gate and rolled down the window. "taxi 'ere, Mr. Wayne already paid me."

"I see," a strongly British voice echoed from the box, "come in." The gate beeped a second later and swung open, allowing the taxi to drive through. Danny glanced around the front 'yard' as they approached the looming building. Nicely trimmed green grass fields as far as the eyes could see, trees lining where Danny had to assume were the property lines.

somehow it was completely different from Vlad's front yard, yet still, Danny could only describe them as the same. Green, full of flowers and sculpted bushes and outlandishly garish paveways for their rich front doors. If Danny squinted he could swear there were butterflies happily fluttering around the sides of the building.

and Danny uses the word building here because that was not a house.

No, no. That building wasn't even a mansion like Sam's house. nor was it a castle, like Vlad's. It was an old building of amalgamated eras and themes. Danny was so annoyed his phone was dead right now, Sam would have lost her mind if she could see what he was. Are those eighteenth-century dormers right next to a twentieth-century skylight???

you know what? Mr. Wayne deserves to have all of his food eaten right in front of him. Who in their right mind would allow their home to look like that? And in the twenty-first century no less!

The taxi pulled to a stop; and Danny, lost in his Sam-induced horror, automatically pushed the car door open, stumbled his way out, closed the door, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to stare up at the roof.

Taxi man sniffed and then drove off, his jaw cracking yawn echoing in the back of Danny's mind.

"Master Tim?" the British voice from earlier echoed out from the now-opened door. Danny's gaze dropped from the roof and down to the older man now walking toward him. the man hadn't looked up from his newspaper, still reading a paragraph as he stopped in front of Danny.

blinking, Danny glanced down at the paper. he might as well see what had the man's attention so thoroughly. Another article about Damian Wayne and the schoolyard incident.

Danny snorted, he remembered reading about that one. Someone had thrown away their copy and Danny had been bored. let's just say Danny was thoroughly entertained. he even had thoughts about how the kid had managed to sneak in a small dagger with how tight the school's security claimed to be.

"it had to be his belt, I just know it," Danny whispered, leaning a little more to try and see what the new article revealed.

"yes, yes. young master Damian snuck his dagger to school, no need for you to tell me how for the seventh time. Now, then." the butler, folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, and then, again without looking, gently grabbed Danny's arm and guided him toward the door.

"master bruce has been worried about your lack of sleep, you will go to your room and take a nap or you will not be allowed to share in your siblings' desert at diner tonight." the British man sternly continued, closing the front door behind them.

Danny blinked at him, then at the large foyer in front of them. he was so glad Vlad hadn't splurged on aesthetics like this family obviously had. Was that a crystal chandelier?

The British man, Danny was going to call him Gramps now, guided Danny to the stairs and then promptly let him go so he could rush off to find the source of a loud crash, but not without telling Danny (master Tim) to get some rest.

Glancing up at the grand stairs (covered in an obscene amount of glitter) and finding a large golden framed painting of the ocean with a for sale sign next to it, Danny made up his mind.

Mr. Wayne was a multi-billionaire, who allowed his ancient family home to be butchered. If he wasn't going to respect his home when Danny didn't even have one anymore?

Then Danny was going to honor Sam; The person who had dragged him into this hellish life of interior and exterior design (as well as the half'a life coincidently). And how was he going to do this, you ask? well what else, then do the very thing she's dedicated her time to?

Eating the rich.

Or in this case; their food.

and well, what was a ghost supposed to do when welcomed into an ancient home with ungrateful residences? Not haunt them?

[bubybubsters]

i wish you would write a story where you and i meet and then become besties for life. our children then become besties. and then we grow old together

You

A/n:……………..

Wc: something

*****

We first meet in our freshman year of high school. Both are noses are stuck in our schedules as we try to figure out where our classes are in Prythian High. Our first period is Adv English 1 with Professor Archeron. I’m walking out, having already found the class (as I’m brilliant), and I smack straight into you as you’re walking in, 22 minutes late.

I trip over air and you slam into you. You fall into the hall and as we’re both on the floor staring at eachother you say, “falling for me already, love?”

I, having previously had no social interaction, blush furiously and jump up to run away. But you catch my wrist. “I’m joking love, relax. You can call me ‘darling.’”

I stutter out some type of greeting and you smile. You sit behind me in class and at every group project you choose me as your partner.

At first I am a nervous mess and keep messing up the project but you encourage me and make sure I’m comfortable. About half way through the year, during mid terms, I open up and we become besties.

As the year goes on we meet others but we stay besties through freshman year.

Then, you meet Lucien.

And I meet Eris.

And it’s the first time we start to pull apart, barely talking each week. We miss eachother but our other activities take up so much time and any free time is spent with our boyfriends.

Then, I’m at the Forest House, in the kitchen with Eris when you come in with Lucien.

The brothers greet eachother regularly and we stare at eachother.

How did we never realize the two were brothers?

From then on we’re besties again and that’s the end of sophomore year.

During the summer we go on double dates to the beach, the coffee shop, the ice cream shop, the park.

But junior year starts, and we’re drowned in homework because we’re both so smart and taking 5 to 6 AP classes. We study together but start to pull away from our boyfriends. Well I do, Lucien is in our grade but Eris is a senior and he’s also drowned in college stuff.

That’s how junior year passes.

But during the summer we go to Sydney, Australia. We spend the summer getting tans and exploring the great city.

But senior year starts and we both get accepted early into different colleges. I’m going to Sweden and you’re going to France.

But we won’t let anything ruin our friendship and we each buy tickets to prom. You and Lucien become High Lord and Lady and have that slow dance that everyone’s jealous of.

Prom night is the best of my life and and hopefully yours.

We spend the summer living in the moment instead of dreading what’s to come.

Our first year of college we both call a few times but we’re not nearly as close as before.

This goes on for many more years until we both graduate and move to Canada.

There Lucien has a job and the two of you reunite after years apart. Eris lives in another city but we drive down every weekend. We slowly earn our way up to the top branches of our job and become important people.

You and Lucien are married and I’ve never seen you happier.

A year later, on the exact same date, I marry Eris and we become one big family.

40 years later we both have 2 kids. I have to girls because Er is such a girl dad and you and Lucien have a boy and a girl.

We eventually retire from our jobs and start a bunch of new hobbies together.

We learn to pick locks. To box. To play instruments.

But what becomes our biggest hobby is our book. It’s a fantasy. We work on it together and argue over the smallest things all while Eris and Lucien treat us to what we deserve.

One evening, we go out for ice cream at the local shop run by Emerie. She hands us our orders and we cuddle with our families as we sit and stare out at the sunset.

We hold hands and know that we’ll only ever need eachother.

The end!

*****

I hope you lick it@thelov3lybookworm

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 23: Stealing the Batmobile (Alt Prompt Driving)

AO3

Prev

Marinette looks at her little brother with an amused expression before asking:

“He really stole the Batmobile?” 

“Yup. Claimed he was a better driver than me.” Dick says with a snort. Marinette winces. 

“To be fair, he’s probably right. You’re kind of an awful driver.” She says with an apologetic smile. Dick clutches his heart and sniffles loudly. 

“My own flesh and blood!” He cries dramatically. Damian scoffs. 

“Tt. She is on my side, Grayson. As she should be since she is <i>my<i> flesh and blood.” He says with a scowl. 

“The pain!” Dick cries, throwing himself off the couch and onto the ground. Jason just sighs and shakes his head, while Tim looks on tiredly. The five of them had decided to hang out at the manor together earlier, which had somehow shifted into telling stories about each other and funny things that had happened. Marinette loved hearing stories about her brothers from when they were younger. 

“Out of all of us, I am likely the most competent driver.” Damian says, glancing at Marinette before nodding once. “And I assume Marinette would be the second most competent.” He adds. Marinette’s face instantly turns red- she’d never driven before. Her little brother (who was two years younger) was already a great driver. And she…..was not. 

“Oh, uh, I’ve actually never driven before.” She admits. Damian frowns. 

“Wait, you’re almost fifteen and you’ve never driven before?” Jason asks, leaning forward. “Like, ever” 

“Well, no. You can’t get a license in France until you’re eighteen. So no one in their right mind is going to let a fourteen year old drive around the city.” She explains. She watches as a thoughtful look crosses Damian’s face before settling back into a neutral mask. 

“I require your assistance with something. Follow me.” He says, standing and walking out of the room. 

“Er, okay.” She says, furrowing her eyebrows. “We’ll be right back.” She reassures her other brothers. She walks quicker, trying to catch up with Damian who was practically running at this point. He glances at her and raises an eyebrow. 

“Did the others act as if they would follow?” He asks. She frowns, but shakes her head. “Excellent.” He says, opening one of the entrances to the Batcave. She follows him, but freezes as they walk in and she sees where he’s heading. 

“Damian, we’d get into so much trouble.” She says, planting her feet and freezing in place. 

“Not if we aren’t caught. Which we will be if we don’t leave soon.” He says, rushing into the changing room. She stays where she is, glancing down at Tikki peeking out of her purse. 

“Marinette, your father would not like this.” She warns. Marinette bites her lip. 

“I know, but Damian seemed so excited.” She counters, with a small smile. Tikki gives her an unimpressed look. Marinette watches as her little brother walks back out, dressed in his uniform. He nods at her once and then climbs into the driver’s side. She hesitates, weighing her options. She could go with and attempt to drive the Batmobile, or she could watch her little brother drive away and know that no one knew where he was. Crap. Pushing away every instinct telling her this is a horrible idea, she rushes after Damian and hops into the car, calling her transformation as she does. She grins at her brother, her Ladybird suit had started giving her more confidence than her Ladybug suit. It was odd, but she loved it. He immediately slams on the gas, driving out of the cave and into Gotham.

“Ukht, will you be driving as well?” He asks and she hesitates before nodding. It was the Batmobile, what could go wrong?

---

Okay apparently a lot could go wrong, she thinks, watching as the Batmobile slides into the Gotham river. 

“How the fuck did you guys manage that?” A voice asks. She whirls around, wincing when she sees Jason, as Red Hood. She can’t see his face but she can just imagine the look he’s giving them. 

“In my defense, we were left unsupervised.” She says. He scoffs. 

“You little shits left us!” He reminds her. 

“Ladybird had never had the chance to drive before. It made sense to make sure that she could drive and to train her in case she ever needs to utilize a vehicle on patrol.” Damian reasons. And yeah, the reasons are sound. But the Batmobile slowly sinking into the river kind of makes his reasons weak. Just a bit. 

“And driving into the river was, what, to see if she could drive a boat?” Jason asks, crossing his arms. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hood. That’s a car.” She says, the words tumbling out of her mouth. She regrets it, but only for a second because then she hears Damian snort. Score! Every time she was able to make her angriest brother laugh, she gave herself a point. She was so close to double digits.

“Well B’s gonna be ready to go on patrol in less than an hour. Either of you two geniuses have any ideas on how to get the car out of the river and back to the cave?” Jason asks, pulling Marinette from her silent celebration. 

“We could call a tow truck.” She suggests. 

“Tt. That is unwise. The Batmobile is not a regular car.” Damian argues and she huffs. 

“Okay well, last I checked you didn’t have any bright ideas either.” She quips, annoyed with him again. They were good at that. Laughing one minute, then annoying each other the next. She figured it just meant they were doing something right as siblings. 

“Ladybird might actually have a good idea, Robin. Unless you want to call Superman here and have him rat you out to B.” Jason says. A devious smirk stretches onto Damian’s face and Marinette suppresses a shudder. She was definitely glad the kid was on her side. Most of the time, anyway. 

“Excellent point, Hood.” He says, clearing his throat slightly before yelling. Well, not really yelling. Just talking slightly louder than normal. “Jon. I require your assistance.” A few moments later a boy flies down and lands in front of Damian. If she didn’t know any better, Marinette would assume the boy was another of her dad’s kids. Dark hair, blue eyes. But this kid had a huge smile stretched across his face. So maybe not. 

“Hey Robin! I haven’t seen you in ages!” The boy says cheerfully before waving at Red Hood. He turns to her and his smile falters slightly before it’s back full blast. He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Superboy.” He says. Marinette grins, shaking his hand back. 

“Ladybird, and likewise.” She says. 

“So what-” Jon (Superboy?) starts, glancing at the river, eyes widening at the car. “Did you steal the Batmobile again!?” He yelps, obviously shocked. And concerned. Which she understood. It’s not everyday you see the Batmobile slowly sinking into the Gotham river. 

“Er, temporarily misappropriated.” Marinette says, glaring at Jason who snorts at her response. 

“No, they definitely stole it. And Ladybird here decided she’d try to drive for the first time. What I’m not understanding is why you knuckleheads thought it’d be smart to drive so close to the river?” He says. 

“Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly, Hood. Can we please just focus on getting the car out of the river before I’m murdered by Batman?” Marinette rambles, looking pleadingly at Jon. It was odd, begging a little kid to drag her superhero dad’s super car out of a river, but it had to be done. 

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Jon says, his earlier shock replaced with a wide smile once again. He flies over and grabs the car, gently pulling it up and placing it back on the road. Marinette winces at the water pouring out of the car. She was so grounded. 

---

Walking into the Batcave, Bruce frowns at the lack of Batmobile. He’d passed Tim and Dick on his way to the Cave, so he knew they didn’t have it. Which left his two most mischievous sons and the daughter they had so easily corrupted. Hopefully they were just getting fast food or something again. Hopefully nothing bad was happening. He winces. That was unlikely with his children. He rushes over to the computer, tracking the Batmobile and accessing the cameras near the car. The image in front of him makes him pinch the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth. 

“Just one day, one day is all I ask.” He mumbles under his breath. Because of course traffic cameras would catch Superboy lifting the Batmobile out of the river. Of course. He sits in his chair and watches as the kids argue for a few minutes before getting in the car and driving off. He tracks them all the way until they’re past cameras, and then he waits. Knowing it’ll only be moments until they’re in the Cave. He sits, silent as they get out of the car. 

“No, seriously, he’s gonna know.” Marinette is saying, obviously looking nervous. 

“Then beg Tikki to take all the water out or something. It’ll be fine, Pix.” Jason says. 

“She’s gonna be so mad at me though. She warned me that it was a bad idea.” Marinette says, and Bruce decides to speak up. 

“She was right.” He says, turning his chair to face them. 

“SHIT! Goddamn you Bruce, why the hell would you sneak up on us like that?” Jason huffs out, glaring at him. 

“Perhaps it’s the same reason that you three thought it was a good idea to steal the Batmobile.” Bruce says, crossing his arms. 

“Uh, fuck that. I wasn’t in on it. I went out to try and find the little shits when I realized they were gone.” Jason argues, crossing his arms too. 

“Ukht had never driven before. I believed it was a useful skill that she could utilize on future missions or patrols.” Damian says simply, his calm demeanor the complete opposite of Marinette’s current demeanor. She’s obviously panicked and anxious, avoiding looking at him. He feels his former resolve soften slightly. No one was hurt, they obviously felt bad. And Marinette obviously felt bad about it. But still….

“You’re benched for the night. Both of you.” He instructs. Damian grits his teeth but nods, while Marinette looks confused. 

“But I’m not even-” She starts to say, stopping as Jason throws a hand over her mouth. “Well, well, look at the time. I’ll take them upstairs and tuck ‘em in before patrol.” Jason says, rushing away with Marinette and leaving Damian behind. Damian turns to Bruce and frowns. 

“It did not go unnoticed by me, Father, that you benched the one child you do not allow to patrol. You may have done this in an attempt to not punish Marinette, but make no mistake she will remember this. And she will be on patrol later this week. After all, you only benched her for tonight.” Damian says, nodding at his father before walking away. Bruce sighs. He hadn’t thought this one through.

---

“What was that for?” Marinette asks, frowning at her brother as he drags her to the house. She drops her transformation as they walk, wincing slightly at the ‘we’ll talk later’ look from Tikki. Oh yeah, she was definitely getting lectured. 

“He just benched you for tonight, right?” Jason asks, a smirk on his face. Marinette huffs. 

“Yeah, but I’m not even technically allowed on patrols.” She reminds him. 

“Except now, you’re technically allowed to come tomorrow. He said you were ‘benched for the night’.” Jason points out. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. She blinks before a wide smile stretches across her face. Was she really gonna get to go back on patrol on a technicality? Suddenly, she no longer regretted driving the Batmobile into the river.

Next

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[creativeashproductions]

When the Pain Ends // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Breaking up with your boyfriend ends with your broken hand, a broken heart and a trip to Canada. Getting out of Oklahoma for comfort of your younger brother Owen brings you into contact with a sweet Canadian.

Warnings: Swearing, hospital, cheating boyfriend, angst and bit of fluff

Words: 3.1k

Requested: No.

A/N: Tidbit of info is that I am a university student. I had last week off and I’m six minutes into my History Zoom Lecture. Here’s a little fic.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The scowl glued on your face as you waited in the ER for the results from the x-ray you had gotten back from minutes ago. A bag of ice on the swollen knuckles of your right hand still splattered in drops of blood. The same blood as the small drops on your shirt as well. If that didn’t put a scowl on your face, it was the next issue.

The reason for your visit to the ER was in bed next over complaining as a nurse checked his face. His eyes meeting yours in a blend of guilt, regret and fear almost. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes.

Let’s backtrack a little for a short history.

The summer after graduation, you had met a guy on the beach playing volleyball in need of another player. You joined, and then you fell for the guy just as he did for you. For the last three years, you were now twenty-one years old. Parker had been a really good guy. Until yesterday.

“Babe!” Parker sounded congested with the bandages held up his nose. He had been fighting the nurse to come to your side.

“Don’t call me that!” You hissed glaring at the tall boy with the auburn hair colour that had once been your favourite colour.

“C’mon it was a mistake-Ow!” Parker whined at the nurse applied more pressure as she cast a sympathetic glance at you. A small smile of thanks passed to the nurse who had maybe pressed a little no hard on Parker’s nose.

Your eyes rolled at the drama that was Parker when it came to injuries that had been his entire fault, to be frank. Your fist meeting his face? His fault for cheating. What did he expect? A congratulations? Screw that.

“Say anything else I swear I’ll hit the other ball.” You glared at the boy sending him to a fit, shaking fear of stupidity.

The beach was filled up with teens and adults with children on the nice weekend day out of the loud city. Originally you hadn’t been able to join Parker with your mutual friends, but something else had spurred you there. Instead of having the weekly movie night via FaceTime with your younger brother, you had other plans. A particular video sent by Parker’s best friend and his cousin too had brought you here. Livvy had grown close in the three-year relationship you had with her cousin.

Your fury filled gaze flickered around the beach and the grass in the large opening area of the waterfront. Finally, your eyes found Parker sitting with Livvy on the blanket on the grass with Steve. Livvy was the first to see with marching through the people spreading like a curtain from the angry girl.

“Hey, Parker!” You shouted at your boyfriend in a conversation with your other two friends. Parker’s smile grew just before it falters at your expression.

“Hey, Babe,” Parker spoke, climbing to his full five-foot-ten stature. Livvy’s smile pulled up in an amused smirk while Steve looked more confused.

“How was your weekend at your sick Granny’s house?” You came to a stop a foot away from him. Arms crossed just under your chest his thick eyebrows furrowed together.

“Uh…it was okay. She’s feeling better.” Parker nodded to himself tilting his head to the side, “It was-“

“I hope she better. Her treatment must have been incredible.” You replied, unfurling your arms to grab the phone from your back pocket.

Parker grew more confused, “What?”

“The doctor sure knew what he was doing. The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The whistle you made after your statement sounded, but you grew more satisfied with the circle of people behind you.

“Oh.” Steve choked, raising one fist to press against his mouth. By now Livvy had started recording on her phone.

Livvy and Parker may be cousins, but she loathed cheaters when it was the cause of her parents’ divorce. Parker’s lips parted as he paled. The click of the glass screen brought up a video of Parker and a brunette in a hot tub.

“Ba-“

“Fucking look at your actions.” You hissed stepping even closer, “Was it worth it? Jeopardizing a relationship with someone you share years of memories with? Years of love and trust? All for thirty seconds of fun? We both know you tend to…get too excited.”

“Oh shit,” Steve spoke, shifting his gaze between you and Parker like he was a bobblehead of Einstein. The very bobblehead that you had laughed giving Steve with his obsession over the legendary scientist.

“It just happened. I still love you. I just needed a- “Parker stumbled back bringing his hands to his face, “OW! You broke my nose!”

“Ouch.” You hissed shaking your aching hand coated in some blood that splattered your shirt from shaking the hand.

“What the hell! You bit…holy fuck!” Parker screamed as your foot came up between his spread legs, nailing his left nut. He collapsed onto the grass, struggling to hold his bleeding broke nose and his nuts.

“That’s what you get asshole.” You shouted, turning to Livvy, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

“Parker drove, I’ll drive you both there. Steve can keep you two from fighting.” Livvy spoke, ending the video to shove everything in the oversized beach bag.

Now it was hours later as per usual in most hospitals elongating the time you were forced to spend with your now ex-boyfriend. Livvy and Steve had gone home a while back. Parker continued trying to fix the unrepairable damage he had done.

“Y-“

“That’s it!” You exclaimed jumping down from the bed to storm over to Parker. You made a few steps before arms encircled your waist.

“Okay, Slugger.” The gritty voice of your father spoke tugging you as far away from your ex-boyfriend as possible, “As much I want to kill him, I think you broke his pretty-boy face enough.”

The anger drained from your body as you slumped against your dad anguish set in with a tsunami of hurt. Time melted as you broke in your father’s arm; missing the doctor giving information. Your hand was fitted with a cast, and next thing you were aware of it was in the car.

“You bruised hits nuts. Broke his nose.” Dad nonchalantly spoke, turning the steering wheel as he exited the hospital parking lot. He didn’t bother making small talk as he let you be quiet on the drive home.

You didn’t know what hurt more, the heartache or your broken hand stabilized in the brace. The clearing of a throat had your attention is drawn to the house you had grown up no doubt holding your upset mother.

“She’s not that mad.” Dad quietly spoke, handing your phone that had died during the time in the ER. You shot him a look at the inaccuracy of his statement because you both know she was angry.

“Her daughter just spent hours in a hospital with a dead phone. We both know she probably thought I was dead in a ditch.” You deadpanned as you both walked up to the door of the home in Norman, Oklahoma.

The door opened before you could reach for it, and a flurry of blonde hair attacked you in a hug. Your mother hugged then leaned away to scan your features. Catching the dried tear stains paired with the red-rimmed eyes.

“Sweetheart.” Dinah spoke, raising her hands to wipe the tears from your face only causing more to fall, “What’s wrong?”

“Parker cheated on me.” You mumbled melting into her arms in another round of tears, breaking your parents’ hearts.

Meanwhile in Vancouver, Canada

Owen loved his job and the people he had met, but he missed the weekly movie nights with his older sister. The Joyner siblings had gotten down pat a system of sync to have the same movie playing at the same time on FaceTime. Imagine his surprise when he got a text apologizing.

Virtual movie night postponed. It put him in a slump that greatly concerned his roommate at the decrease of excitement. Even the next day, he was sad like a kicked puppy.

“Bro? You good?” Charlie asked from his place in the kitchen, scanning his emails on his computer. Owen barely made his eyes, “Wasn’t movie night with your sister yesterday?”

Owen nodded, “Yeah she-“

As Owen had gone to explain his phone had dinged with a concerning message from his mother.

Mom: Have you heard from Y/N? She hasn’t come home.

Owen swiped out of the conversation to the most used one with you shared with him to send a mass of messages. All not even coming up as read by you. It was his stipulation that you had it one for his safe of mind.

“C’mon you little shit,” Owen grumbled, pressing your contact to call. It didn’t even ring, “Dead cell.”

Charlie’s full attention shifted to the younger guy sitting on their couch in the apartment they used during filming. As Owen started pacing, Charlie was over quick as a bunny to offer comfort to him. The boys had grown so close, with Jeremy too, that they knew how to help the other.

“Owen, you need to tell me what’s going on.” Charlie soothed the blonde with his eyes pleading with the teenager.

“My parents haven’t talked to my sister. She didn’t go home.” Owen admitted scratching at his chest when his chest tightened. The other immediately finding his pulse on his neck to ensure he still had a pulse.

“Oh shit.” Charlie retorted, tapping his foot on the hardwood floor trying to find the right words to help his friend.

For the next hour, the boys kept in contact with Owen’s family and checking your social media in shifts as they filmed. It was a slow day when Owen’s phone finally rang with his mother’s contact once more.

“Mom, did you find her?” Owen asked, picking at the skin on his lips pacing as he had all day. The level of anxiety had been perfect for the scene he had filmed as Alex.

“Yeah. Look, Owen, she needs to get out of Oklahoma. Do you have room for her?” Dinah asked her son periodically glancing in the living room at the lifeless young woman.

“Yeah. We have an extra room.” Owen supplied squeezing the phone in his grip, “How is she? What happened?”

“I’m letting her settle before I ask any questions, but her flight is in a bit. It was either you take her in, or we pay for a hotel room. Oh! I got this lego-“

“I have to get back to filming. I’ll call you tonight.” Owen told his mother as his thumb hit the record circle on his phone. Kenny waving him over to film a scene with Booboo that would be the last before heading home.

The over the counter pain pill went down with a swig of water in the airport waiting for Owen and his roommate. Owen had messaged you that he would pick you up on the way from the set in perfect timing.

“Y/N!” Owen cheered catching sight of your form hunched forward on the bench you had miraculously found empty. Your blank eyes seeing the blue of your younger brother.

Owen’s eyes widened in shock, “What the hell happened to your hand?”

Noncommittal, the girl walked by her brother with her luggage in the mission to get to the car. All you wanted was to burst into years under your blankets until the world turned again, when birds sang, and the word wasn’t painted in dull colours.

Just as it had during the ride from the hospital to the house, it was dead silent in the car with the barest sound of music. Owen and Charlie had been having a conversation with expressions with the tension in the backseat stifling.

“This is our place.” Charlie spoke, opening the apartment door with a flourish for the girl and her luggage. Your eyes scanned the modest apartment with minimal mess compared to the tornado devastation of Owen’s Oklahoma room.

“Okay.” You replied, watching as Owen rolled the luggage to the room you would use for the few weeks you would be here.

Once showered, dressed and settled, you retreated to the couch to watch a film with the two boys. Your mind fluttered between Beca’s blow out with her father and Jesse to the city of Norman. As if thinking of Parker manifested something your phone buzzed with notifications.

@/livvyjo: Go, girl! [video]

@/malia134: Parker goes down like the bitch he is!!!

@/notsteverogers: I got a front-row seat to the fight.

Those three comments on Livvy’s video had more support than hate plus the video itself was hilarious. It caught the entire confrontation from greeting the cheater to being pulled away to spend the ten minutes in the same car. The car you had hooked up in the backseat of in the years you dated him.

 “-The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The pure anger on your expression amused you.

“What are you watching?” Owen inquired from the couch he watched the movie from. It made up for the lack of a film last night.

“A girl punching her bag of shit ex-boyfriend. She almost ripped his face off in the hospital.” You softly replied with your thumb double-tapping Livvy’s post.

Charlie’s attention shifted from the pool mashup with the Barden Bellas to the pride evident in your tone. It was the first time he had heard you laugh during the few hours he had been in your presence.

“What movie?”

“Oh, you know Parker’s Dicked Down Adventures. Filmed free with an iPhone.” You spoke sliding down to sit flush to Charlie to show the video you refreshed.

Owen’s mouth opened, “He cheated on you? How stupid is he??”

“You have a mean right hook.” Charlie supplied replaying the video for the third time with a weird feeling in his gut. The confidence stirred a body warming heat in the Canadian actor unlike anything else he had felt before.

“Dad taught me.” You replied, slouching down in the plush couch with a tiny smiling, “The nurse heard what happened. She put excessive pressure for his actions. I overheard his diagnosis; nasty bruised testicle and a broken nose.”

Both boys winced at the description. Owen ditching Charlie’s side to sit beside you, leaving you in the middle of the boys.

“I almost attacked him before Dad dragged me out of the room.” You recounted snuggling into your younger brother’s side.

“Where are my keys?” Owen questioned his roommate, “We need them to drive to the airport. I need to kill the ass that hurt my sister.”

Your deft fingers grasped Owen’s wrist when he went to get up because, in all honesty, he probably would book a flight. He wouldn’t go through with the plan to physically hurt Parker, but Owen had a wicked tongue for insults.

You spent one month in Vancouver with your brother and his castmates from helping Maddie with her homework. Movie nights with Owen changed to include Charlie too. Shopping trips with Sav and Tori. Baking with Jadah. You became family with them.

All good things come to an end. You had settled back in Norman with brighter plans that didn’t involve relying on men. Movie nights still happened with the boys, but things got hectic. Virtual movie nights shifted to texting Charlie and calls.

“Hey dork.” Charlie spoke walking down the street in Vancouver to the restaurant he was meeting the cast at. His lips pulled back in a massive grin, hearing your voice.

“Hey Char!” You enthusiastically spoke, walking out of the building with more pep in your step at the voice of the man, “What’s up?”

“On my way for food with everyone. How are you feeling?” Charlie asked, rubbing his fingertips on the dark denim pants. The sound of your voice brightening up his day more than he thought possible.

“Ooh. I should let you go, huh?” You questioned shifting to hold the phone between your shoulder and chin. Fingers unlocked the new car you had bought with the money you had saved.

A nice change of money from selling the jewellery, clothes and other miscellaneous gifts Parker had given you. The necklace he gave you that once belonged to his grandmother had been given back to him. Other than that you had no interaction with the ass.

“I’d rather talk to you.” Charlie admitted biting his lip in concentration, “I have a question.”

“Okay. What’s your question?” You questioned as your phone connected to your car—Charlie’s voice coming through the car speakers.

“Filming is almost over. Do you have plans for New Years? I’d like you to see you again.”

His words set a flutter of butterflies moving in your stomach at his nervous confidence striking the new information. The change in your friendship had been felt on his side as well and while you usually would think one-month post cheating wasn’t long enough. Something about Charlie felt comfortable as if everything had been preparing to fall for him.

“I could fly-“

“I’d like to see where you grew up. Your favourite places and where you went to school. I want to know the little things that made you who you are.” Charlie spoke coming to a stop outside the restaurant, waiting for your answer.

Owen’s eyes pulled from his debate with Sacha and Jeremy to the nervous Canadian biting his lip outside the window. By the expression on his face, Owen couldn’t guess who he was talking about. It was the smile that had been appearing on Charlie’s face for the last two weeks you had been staying with them.

Charlie had fallen for Owen’s big sister, and he couldn’t think of anyone better. The bond between you and Charlie had been natural and magical to watch. It was kinda gross seeing his best friend and sister having heart eyes with each other. Yet, Owen had never liked Parker, but he loved the idea of having Charlie as a brother.

“Y-yeah. Of course, you can Char.” The flattering blush heated up your skin at the turn in the convo—a grin splitting on the two individuals with more than three thousand kilometres between them.

“Cool. I should join the cast. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, Charlie.” You whispered to the boy looking out the window noticing something she had been oblivious to.

The world had regained the colour, the birds sang again, and the world turned once more. All because a boy helped her heal.

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[creatureofmystry]

MLB x DC Universe Headcannons

I just love the idea of MLB and DC (expecially Batfam cuz Mari is such a Wayne) being in the same universe and crossing over. So one night, I just had an idea overload of different ways the Marinette would know the batfam/be a part of the DC universe. And if any of my shitty ideas somehow inspire or prompt you, then please be my guest. 😊 _

1) “Ladybugs of Past and Present”

Hippolyta, Wonder Woman’s mother, was once a previous holder of the ladybug miraculous. When Fu activated the miraculous and put them in circulation, Hippolyta could feel its magic waking back up. Knowing there must a reason for it to be out, she sent a message to her daughter. Diana searched, finding Marinette and Adrien as the present holders of the ladybug and cat miraculous. She vouched and brought them into the Young Justice program while they also made their own team, Project: Zodiac (or something like that).

[Sometime when Diana takes Marinette to meet Hippolyta]

“Great Hera, Tikki, you have not aged a day” -Hippolyta, cause she does know how to make joke. 

“And I would say the same to you” -Tikki

“Mother, you can make a laugh?” -Wonder Woman, honestly a bit confused cause her mom have never not been serious before.

And Marinette is just speechless cause she’s starstruck meeting Wonder Woman’s mom AND a previous Ladybug holder.

_

2) “Rockstar Niece”

Jagged Stone is Marinette’s Sweet Uncle J. During the summers, Jagged Stone would take Mari with him on tour. HIs summer tours are throughout America, so Mari gets to sightsee the country. Jagged’s first tour that he gets to take Mari on (5-ish), he’s also booked for the annual (for whatever reason) Wayne Summer Gala. When Marinette meets the Waynes, they are so enamoured (Dick and Tim couldn’t help it) that they tell Jagged he’s always invited as a guest, Mari of course being added to the permanent guest list too. About 6 years later, Mari is practically adopted, spending the first half of her summers with Jagged, going to the Wayne Gala, then spending the rest of her summer with the Waynes. Overtime, she figured out the secrets of the family and was there to welcome Jason back from the dead (when that happens). Anyways, now 11(-ish?) Mari meets Damian and the two become good friends… after an… impressionable first meeting.

“Tch, let me guess, you’re another one of father’s adopted strays” -Dami

“YOU MUST BE DAMIAN!!! DICK TOLD ME ABOUT YOU!!” -Marinette, who just ignores what he said for a hug.

“hiiiiiiiiissssssss” -Dami, touchy with touch

“...” sprays water in his face since he decided to act like a cat.

“I say, Master Bruce, the children are getting along quite well” -Alfred

_

3) “Pen Pals” 

Jon Kent and Marinette Dupain-Cheng are part of an international pen-pal program, starting when they were very young (maybe like 4 or 5-ish, super super young) where they told each other everything (Jon can’t just say that his older bro is a clone made from Superman and Lex Luthor’s DNA, or that his dad is Superman, or that his best friend is Robin, but yea. Lois and Clark probably proofread his stuff until he’s like 9) with pictures and everything. When they’re old enough to get phones & stuff, they call, text and vid-chat along with their letters (love without blood). When Mari is maybe 9-11 (somewhere around there) she starts flying over during the summers to hangout with Jon (and his friends and big brother). While there, she meets Kon, Bat fam, and Clark (some who she already knew, some who she didn’t) & lightly hints that she knows who all they are once she figures it out (it didn’t take her long to do so). 

Now whenever she visits and is at Wayne Manor (Jon likes to have sleepovers practically every weekend) while they’re on patrol, Mari subtly messes with their minds (super subtle, they’re the world’s best detectives after all) until they finally look through the cams and see Mari giving them one of those smiles (those shit-grinning cause it’s just so hilarious how it’s gone on for so long) & and a playful wink. 

[5 seconds later]

“Mari!” “Pixie-pop!” “Angel!” “Teacup!”

“Seriously, am I the only one with a normal nickname for her?” -Tim

“Ms. Marinette would like to inform you that ‘it took you long enough’” -Alfred (who so knows that the girl has been playing them since the third night she stayed at the Wayne’s)

“Where are my adoption papers?” -Bruce (who is seriously adopting any talented black-haired child)

_

4) “Mari and Mar’i” 

When Mar’i is young, Dick and Kori take her with them to see Paris (btw, this would be during the winter). They’re strolling along through a park and lose track of Mar’i who finds Marinette (9-10 ish). Marinette comforts and distracts Mar’i while noticing the young(er) girl is Tameranian (her hair is very warm and she’s wearing significantly less layers than should be worn for a human of that age during the winter, plus that sun-kissed skin tone. She’s seen Kori in her fashion magazines (and, from time to time, on the news as an ambassador) so she easily make the connections). Dick and Kori finally spot Mar’i with Mari who introduces herself to them. Mar’i asks if she can see her “Auntinette” again and Marinette just goes “if your parents are okay with it.” Dick and Kori are totally cool with it (not many are willing to watch her and have the time to do it) so they ask Marinette if she can babysit Mar’i whenever (with good pay of course) if she’s up to it (cause she’s still pretty young). Marinette can’t say no to Mar’i’s babydoll eyes (and she’s so much easier compared to Manon, who’s only 2 rn), so of course, she says yes. 

Now Marinette is Mar’is official babysitter and sees Mar’i often whenever her parents drop her off (using zeta tubes to quickly get to Paris and back). Marinette gets treated like an honorary Wayne (cause she’s the most responsible) and gets invited to their family stuff (w/ travel pay taken care of, of course). It doesn’t take her long to realize the fact that she babysits Bruce Wayne’s & BATMAN’S granddaughter, but of course, being the responsible one she is, keeps the secret… while also playing with them via Mar’i.

[One Day]

After Marinette leaves for her plane…

“Uncle Dami!”

“Yes, Spawn?”

“Auntinette said to tell you after she left that Robin’s sut needs a major upgrade & that you look like a traffic light… whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

[Another Day]

“Uncle Jay!”

“What’s up kid?’

“Auntinette said that to let you know that Red Hood doesn’t make any sense ‘cause Red Hood wears a helmet. Not a hood.”

[The next time]

“Uncle Tim!”

Yawn. “yea?”

“Auntie told me to give you this” (pulls out super caffeinated coffee) “and that Red Robin’s cowl is a menace to all things fashion”

[Again…] 

“Daddy!”

“Yes, Starshine?”

“Auntienette said she’s proud of Nightwing’s costume ‘cause it’s one of the only in the batfam that isn’t an astro-city to the fashion society.”

_

5) “Marinette, the one who’s always getting chosen”

Before Mari became (becomes(?)) LB, she comes across a different powerful piece of jewelry, from a different order of guardians where her will of mind is not only her shield from being akumatized, but it is also what drives her powers. That’s right, Mari walks past a flea market and activates a GL ring. The guardians pick up on this activity and send Hal (it is his sector) to check it out. Hal finds the ring with Mari but it still needs the light of a GL to charge and fully work. 

[During the explanation]

“Look, kid-”

“Marinette.” 

“Look, kid, I just need to know why you have that ring.”

“You think I know? I was just walking through the market and all of a sudden, this possessed ring, if that’s even what this is, started following me, then zipped in front of my face til i held my hand up so it can put itself on my finger.” 

“Kid-”

“It’s MARINETTE. Get it wrong one more time and you’ll see why I don’t need a possessed piece of alien jewelry.” -Marinette, making sure you get her name right. “Besides, if I stole it, I would remember. I’m a klepto” -Marinette, probably holding his ring too at this point.

Hal obviously doesn’t want the wrath of the Dupain-Chengs (just the kid Marinette scares him enough), so he tells the guardians that JL will take care of most of Mari’s training (once they get her a lamp for her ring, of course) & has her take part in training at Mt. Justice with the Young Justice team and special training with the Bats. Mari does all this under the guise of an international student exchange program for Mari to stay with the Waynes (not yet knowing that it’s the bat fam) and attends G.A. Mari doesn’t do much, but it takes her 24-36 hours to know who EVERYONE is.

[the next week after settling in]

“Hey, Mars,” -Dick, in his Nightwing gear

“Hey, Di-is the GREATEST SHOW!” -Mari, changing the subject(… not really)

“How long did it take you?”

“Not as long as the Kryptonians…” -Mari, going off into a tangent (still trying to change the subject”

[When Marinette meets Tikki]

Back in Paris:

“Sooo… I’m getting powerful jewelry that gives me powers and a suit, needs to be recharged, and comes from some Order of the Guardians? What’s the difference between you and my ring?” -Marinette, who at this point is very confused as to why she keeps getting picked on for this kind of stuff. 

“One’s alien, one’s magic” -Tikki, hoping Mari will end it there & lowkey hates that the GL Corp. got to her first.

“They’re both non-human made energy sources” -Mari, cause once you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all before. 

“You can’t heal the Akuma without the miraculous, and there are more than just rings. Yours are earrings, there are hair clips, bracelets, necklaces and more” -Tikki, after having a minute to think

“Fine, only because you said they’re the only way to heal the, what was it again, akuma?”

_

6) “Their Unofficial Official Barista”

Part of Tim’s job as Co-CEO, is to make sure all the branches are running smoothly, sometimes that means he has to fly abroad to manually check in. Tim goes to Paris to check on the W.E. Paris branch. He goes to a nearby Patisserie (Tom and Sabine’s) to see a young Marinette (somewhere from 8-11) drawing in her sketchbook at the counter. She explains that her parents are at a catering event, but she’s there to man the little bakery. Tim asks for a super caffeinated coffee and Marinette makes it with ease, claiming it was on the house with how bad he looks (and how much sleep the man clearly needs). Tim begs for her knowledge and asks if she can teach his butler. Mari’s willing to show him the next time he comes, so he gets the whole fam to go (viz tubes so they don’t waste time) maybe a week later. Everyone gets their own drink (plus a free pastries) and Marinette teaches Alfred her coffee, but it’s just not the same so Tim, using the tubes, goes to get coffee from the girl whenever he can. 

Mari is horrible at getting up on time (the life of an insomniac, never getting to sleep even if you want and then barely waking up on time) that she is up super early, makes Tim his coffee (plus a croissant) and tries to go back to sleep (making her inevitably late). Tim would walk up to the pick-up counter where his cup and to-go bag is while Marinette runs out of the house to get to school. Eventually, the rest of the Batfam (as well as the Laegue, TT, and YJ) frequent the place, slowly becoming (Dami too) Mari hides it, but she knew all the batfam the first day they came and she showed Alfred how to make the coffee. When the others start making more regular appearances, she learns the identities of YJ team, WW, GLs, and others. Obviously when LB and CN appear as heroes with HM as their villain, they immediately reach out to help. Because 1. Batfam clearly notices that it’s Mari and they sure as heck won’t let her deal with that by herself, and 2. The JL is worrying too much about their favorite barista (even though she’s not really one), especially with the Gigantitan scare. So, of course LB & CN (can’t make him bad everytime) get inducted into YJ.

[After Ladybug finishes defeating Gigantitan and detransforms] 

“Bean! Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” -Tim, being an even more protective older brother than Dick, which shouldn’t be possible

“Yes, I promise. I’m fine” -Marinette, who just accepts the fact that she’s adopted an older brother (and his famliy)

“Tube over, we’ll have Alfred make sure” -Dick, already pulling out the medical supplies for Alfred.

“I-” 

“You shouldn’t worry your brothers like that, Marinette. Now come over so Alfred can clear you,” -Bruce, who just happens to overhear the conversation

“I’m sorry, Miss Marinette, they are very adamant that you’re in pitch perfect health before going out again,” -Alfred, who’s not actually sorry

“Fine” -Marinette, accepting her fate of her adopted, protective family. 

_

7) “Thicker Than the Blood We’ve Shed”

Why is Marinette so freakishly strong? Because she was trained to be. Before she could even talk, Mari was taught to be an assassin. She and Damian were frenemies, both competing for top spot as best in the League (of Assassins). They often spared together and became rivals who pushed each other (which sounds great in that context if you forget about the fact that they’re killing people and turning it into a competition). When Damian’s care is turned over to Batsy, Mari also comes along for the ride. She implements herself into Dami’s classes at G.A. & watches him from afar. (Damian, not being an idiot, of course knows all this and knows that it’s probably for Mari to give a report to Talia.) When he becomes Robin, Mari obviously knows, but waits to see if anything drastic would happen (his care was given to the Batfam, they had already expected this to happen.) She then heard word of the bounty Talia put on Damian’s head. Marinette knew there wouldn’t be much she could do to help, but she ave Dami a warning about the upcoming situation before fleeing the country. 

From there she got to France, changed her name (it wasn’t originally Marinette, it was Shénqí, chinese for miraculous/magical (or something else if you want)), was adopted by Tom & Sabine, and left her time in the League in the past. When she received Tikki, she didn’t want to be a hero because she didn’t think she deserved it after her up-bringing. Eventually, she did become LB (being a trained assassin does help with lucky charms, considering she was taught how to kill with basically every and anything), and life was good for her. Then Rossi came.

[Gotham field trip]

While at Wayne Tower…

“How idiotic are they?” -Damian, who after reuniting with his long-lost sister-from-a-different-mister (yes, Marinette was able to convince him to say it once), can’t understand the stupidity she has to deal with.

“Are you Robin?” -Mari, who is too tired, so just goes straight into the analogy

“Yes.” -Obvious and simply is.

“Exactly” -Mari, who can’t even put a limit to the amount of thought the one brain cell the class shares doesn’t use. I mean please, the so-called “reporter” believed that the first cosplayer she saw was the actual LB when they don’t even have the same hair! And let’s not forget the origins arc, where LB’s first citizen save was Chloe.

[fan4196]

Happiness (Part 3)

Evermore

Hey everyone here’s part 3, the last part, as requested by so many of you. Hope you like it. Enjoy!

-

After they dropped Izzie of at the hospital to see her mother alone at first, Jo convinced Alex to drive them to the loft and order some lunch. The twins were already sleepy from the flight and also jet lagged, so Alex gave in and drove them to the place he once called home instead of driving them around city, looking for a hotel to stay at.

As soon as they walked through the loft door, Alex has this weird feeling of being home again. It feels like the place where he belongs, the place he once thought he would start a family with Jo in - now he sort of does but he also feels like a complete stranger. Like he shouldn't be here. Like he shouldn't be allowed to feel like home here.

He immediately notices the missing of all their pictures. The corner were is workout stuff used to be holds two cribs and a changing table now. Most of the stuff he once brought into the loft is gone. Jo's closet is half empty and all in all it just doesn't look like it used to.

All of them get rid of their shoes and jackets and Jo prepares the bed for the twins, so they could take a nap. She and Alex sat on the couch talking until the twins woke up again and they ordered pizza.

The evening went over rather quickly with them watching movies and playing games. Heavy hearted the twins said goodbye to their new friend Jo, but got immediately excited again when she promised to accompany them at the zoo tomorrow.

Exhausted Jo falls into bed that night. Letting the day reminisce. She's really relieved that the twins immediately liked her and also that Alex is back or at least near. It makes her feel safer, to know that if something would happen now Alex is only a fifteen minutes drive away and not a three and a half hours flight. Although her due date is still seven weeks away, you just never know.

-

For Alex the next morning starts quite early - like almost every day with the twins but today they are extra excited. From getting them dressed, through breakfast and through out the whole car ride to the loft, they couldn't stop talking and asking about Jo.

They pick Jo up from the loft and Alex drives them to the zoo. The twins chat happily with Jo and sing along to the Taylor Swift songs she plays for them. Alex is quiet the whole car ride, smiling and thinking about how this right here is everything he ever wanted - a family with Jo.

At the zoo they start with the otter as requested by the twins. They walk the big round, looking at all the animals before then decide to take a break at the playground.

While the twins play and show Jo their skills at the monkeybars, Alex sits down on one of the benches from where he has a good few at them.

"Are they all yours?" An old man that sat down on the bench with Alex a few minutes ago asks all of a sudden.

"Yeah." Alex answers simply with a toothless smile, not really in the mood to explain his family constellation to a complete stranger.

"If an old man can give you an advise, try to keep them as happy as they are right now. If they are happy you are happy." He says before he stands up again and walks away.

"I see while I was gone you made a new friend your age." Jo jokes as she comes towards him and sits down on the bench.

"Shut up." He snorts, keeping his eyes on the twins.

"Never." She mocks, laughing at the sulky look on his face.

They sit in silence watching the twins play for a while, when out of nowhere Jo grabs Alex's leg and doubles over in pain.

"Jo what is it? Are you in pain? Jo talk to me!" Alex immediately asks concerned, grabbing her hand that's on his thigh, while his other hand strokes her back.

"I think I'm having contractions." Jo answers as the pain subsides and she sits up straight again.

"Since when?" He asks worried, not letting go of her hand while he's also not taking his eyes off of her.

"This morning?" She answers a little quieter, looking away to escape his look.

"What?"

"I'm having braxton hicks since probably a week. I saw Carina and she said everything was alright. But I don't think that those are braxton hicks, this one was way stronger and it hurt a lot more." She answers, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself down. Alex hand on hers was helping a little bit.

"Ok. Ahm we can do this. We're gonna get you to the hospital. Can you walk?" He asks before he gets up from the bench, holding his hands out to help her up.

"Yeah." Jo answers, taking both of his hands and letting him pull her up.

"Ok. Alexis! Eli! Come here! We need to go!" He screams in the twins direction, waving at them.

"Noo, Daddy." His daughter immediately complains from the sandpit.

"Yes. No complaints we need to take Jo to the hospital now!" He shouts again.

The twins know their dads serious voice so without further complaints they come running towards them and all of them make their way out of the zoo as fast as Jo can. Alex arm is around her to support her while walking and to stabalize her when another contraction hits.

"You're doing so good. Deep breaths." Alex whispers in her ear when they stop for another contraction break. His arms are around Jo, calmly stroking her back while her head is against his chest.

"It's way too early." She whispers a little out of breath from working through the contraction.

"I know. Let's get you to the hospital and see from there ok-" He says while her head still leans against his chest.

"Sir, Ma'am do you need help?" An older lady asks, coming up to them.

"No!" Alex immediately answers rather rudely which scares the lady off.

"Alex! They just wanted to be nice."

"They should mind their own god damn business." He answers "You good again?"

"Yeah." Jo nods and they keep walking, finally making their way out of the zoo.

"Ok you stay here with Jo and have an eye on her and I'm getting the car." Alex orders, already running off to get the car.

"Are the babies hurting you, Jojo?" Eli asks as he sits down beside Jo on the bench in front of the zoo.

"A little bit but it's fine. It's nothing you have to worry about, ok?" Jo assures him with a smile stroking his hair. "There's your dad. Come on."

They get up from the bench while Alex parks in front of them. He quickly gets out of the car to help Jo in the passenger seat and the twins buckling up in the backseats.

During their ride to the hospital the car is silent. The twins are completely quiet while Jo calmly works through her contractions and Alex tries to get them as fast but also as safe as possible to the hospital.

"Kiddos when we are at the hospital a nurse will take you to your mom, ok?" He explains to the twins, watching them nod in the rearview mirror.

"Ok daddy."

"Good." He takes his view from his kids and takes a quick look at Jo, "You ok?"

"Yeah." She smiles as he reaches for her hand to let her squeeze it during the next contraction.

"Ok unbuckle. I'm gonna get you in a second ok?" He tells Jo before he gets the twins inside where a nurse takes them to Izzie. He comes back with a wheelchair and helps Jo sitting down in it.

"Karev? You can't park here." Owen orders as he comes around the car, which is parked directly in front of the ER door.

"Jo's in labor!" Alex replies immediately, handing his key to Owen.

"Alright don't worry. Go get her admitted I'm gonna take care of your car."

"Thanks Owen." Alex screams as he pushes Jo into the ER.

"Stop!" Jo interrupts Alex before he can get them into the elevator, "Levi! Can you go to my place and get me my hospital bag it's right at the front door?" She stops the resident before he could walk past them.

"Are you in labor?" He asks totally surprised.

"Yes."

"Oh my god. Ahm- Of course. I still have my key."

"Thanks." Jo smiles, letting go of his arm so Alex can get them onto the elevator.

He pushes the number to the OB/Gyn floor and squads down in front of Jo, taking her hands in his.

"You're doing so good." He smiles up to her, his eyes softly looking at her.

"It's way too early." She whispers, trying to hold back tears while she keeps looking into his soft, brown eyes.

"It's not. You are 30 weeks which is far enough for them to survive. You kept them save as long as you could and once they're out I promise that I'll keep them save as long as they need, ok?" He assures her softly.

"I'm so glad you are here right now." She whispers.

"Me too."

The opening doors of the elevator interrupt their moment of intimacy and Alex gets her admitted and into a room.

"Jo, bambina I didn't expect you here so soon. Oh hello Doctor Karev." Carina DeLuca greets then as she walks into Jo's room.

"Hi Doctor DeLuca." Alex returns her greeting.

"Carina." She smiles at him, as she puts on a pair of gloves.

"Carina. Alex." He smiles back, taking Jo's clothes from her and puts them on the chair in corner.

"Ok let's see. Did your water already break, Jo?" Carina asks, getting the ultrasound machine ready.

"No- yes." Jo corrects her answer, as she feels the liquid running down her leg.

"Alright then there's no turning back now. Your bambino's want to come today. Can you lay down so I can do an ultrasound and check how far you are dialated?" She asks, getting everything ready.

Alex helps Jo on the bed and sits down on the chair beside her while Carina does the ultrasound and checks her.

"Your babies look great. They are both with their heads down which means we can try the vaginal birth you wanted." Carina smiles, taking off her gloves.

"Yes."

"Perfecto. I'll give you an IV with fluids and something to develop their little lungs and then we'll see. You are seven centimeters so you'll have a little more to go." Carina informs them before she gets the ultrasound machine to take it with her again.

"Thank you Carina." Alex smiles at the OB as he gets up to help Jo sit up again.

"Of course. I'll send a nurse for your IV and check on you in an hour."

"Thank you." Jo smiles.

Carina pads Alexs shoulder before she leaves the two alone again.

"If you need to get the twins or something you can go, I'm fine." Jo turns to Alex.

"Hell no I'm not leaving your side again. Izzie can take care of them for once." He replies, sitting down in his chair again.

"What do you mean?"

"Since the day I got there she plays the 'You missed five years of their life' card which means I have them 24/7 and she doesn't give a shit about them. Don't get me wrong I love my kids but Izzie couldn't care less. She's happy when they are at school or at a friends house and she doesn't have to deal with them all day. Why do you think she has this big ass farm with a hundred animals and a nanny? Just so they can run around outside and she has her quiet inside the house." He vents, laying his head back agains the headrest of the chair.

"So you have them all the time?"

"Yeah they basically live at my place and visit Izzie when she's free on the weekends."

Jo had heard enough, with Alex's help she gets up from the bed and sits down on one of the yoga balls. Closing her eyes and thinking about everything Alex just told her. 

The next few hours go by quietly. Carina checks on Jo every hour and Alex tries to help Jo whenever she needs it.

"I'm thinking about moving here again." Alex voice breaks the silence from his new place on the bed, "Would that be ok with you?"

"What?" She asks again, opening her eyes to be sure he really said what he said.

"I wanna be closer to you and our babies. I wanna see them growing up, Jo. I already missed the first five years once and I don't wanna miss them again. I wanna be their dad - who is around, who is there for their their first words and their first steps. I wanna change dirty diapers and get puked on, I wanna take them to daddy and me classes, I wanna have the whole damn thing - if you'll let me." He finishes, waiting for her answer, "Jo?"

He gets up from the bed and walks to her. Seeing that her eyes are closed, he takes her hands.

"I need to push."

-

An hour later their beautiful babies are born.

Small but healthy. They need a little help with their breathing but other than that they are both perfectly fine.

Jo has Emery on her chest, Alex has Parker for a little skin to skin time. They are all four curled up on the hospital bed - happier than they ever believed they could be.

"They are so perfect Jo." Alex whispers, watching his son and daughter sleeping peacefully.

"They really are." She smiles towards Alex, "And yes."

"Yes what?" He asks, now looking at Jo.

"You can have the whole damn thing if you want but only if I'll get the whole damn thing with your twins too." She throws him a toothless smile.

"Are you saying-"

"I'm saying after all I still love you and I wanna do this with you. I'll probably need a little more time to fully trust you again but I want them to have their dad around." She nods, not interrupting their stare.

"Thank you." He really doesn't know what other to say.

They get interrupt by a knock and the door opening.

"I'm so sorry Jo that it took this long. I got pulled into a surgery with Bailey- Oh my god you had the babies." Levi stops in this movement.

"Thanks Levi." Jo smiles at him.

"Sure. They are perfect, Jo. Congratulations."

He smiles at them before he puts the bag down at the door and leaves the four alone again.

"How come you call him Levi?" Alex asks interested, watching her carefully.

"He was my roommate for a while right after you left." She answers, carefully stroking her daughters rosy cheek.

"Oh-"

"And Taryn too." She adds, taking her glance of her daughter now looking at him again.

"Who?" He asks, scrunching his nose as he returns her glance.

"Helm."

"Oh ok."

Another knock at the door interrupts them. This time it's one of the nurses.

"Are you up for some visitors?" She asks carefully before she opens the door completely as Jo nods. And the twins come into the room.

"Hey guys. Come on in." Alex assures them as they are a little careful. But within a minute they are on the bed with the rest.

"Eli, Alexis those are Emery and Parker." Alex announces with the biggest smile an his face. Right in this moment he was the happiest man alive.

"They are so tiny." His daughter marvels over her little siblings. Scooting closer to her dad to have a better look at her new baby brother.

"They are." Jo laughs at the twins reaction.

"But they are soo cute." Eli adds, scooting a little closer to Jo to get an even better look.

"Right? Don't you think that Parker looks just like your daddy?" Jo asks, pulling the blanket a little from Parker's face so the twins have a better few.

"A little." Alexis agrees with a nod.

"Can we hold them?" Eli asks excited, scooting even closer to Jo.

"Sure. Are you guys strong enough to get me this bag?" Jo asks them, ponying towards the bag Levi just brought.

"I'll get it."

"Thank you, Eli. Let's get them dressed then you can hold them ok?"

The twins nod before they help Jo dressing Emery and Parker. When the smallest Karevs are dressed Jo gets something else out of the bag and hands one to Alex.

"I think you were right about their heads. These are a little big now but just think about their heads if they would have been full term."

"Where do you have those from?" Alex looks at the little hat in his hand, before he looks at Jo.

"Your mom send them."

"You're still in touch with my mom?" He blankly.

"Yeah. And Amber and Matt. And I finally met Aaron too-"

"When?" He asks quite surprised.

"Well your mom invited me to Easter and Amber, Matt, the kids and Aaron where there too."

"We would have been there too but the twins were sick," Alex gasps, looking at Jo.

"Well now we're all gonna be there for Christmas." Jo smiles at him.

"We will." He smiles back.

[pixiedoodlein]

I’m so fucking mad that a year and a half into this pandemic I am back to 11th hour debating another year of homeschool. The first stretch of homeschool, in NYC, when the toddler was a baby, and husband was home on unemployment, was good, nice even, a quiet piece of something good when the world outside was falling apart. The next stretch, the Oklahoma stretch, with a particularly climby toddler, husband working 10 hour days, me doing remote contract work, somewhere we had no family around to help w/ childcare, was challenging. I was not always my best self. Some days were delightful, muffins and math games. Other days I was more Miss Trunchbull than Miss Honey, fractions were squeezed in between crying (usually mine) and netflix (way too much of hers), and I held on to any shred of sanity by telling myself “just a little longer, just until the vaccines.”

Well here we are. Husband & I have been vaccinated for months, but the kids aren’t yet. The upstate NY town we moved to is a very small town (pop: 838), was mostly untouched by previous waves. When we got here, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so lax about it- no masks, no panic. Our first day here, when I came home from the market and saw through the window a gaggle of unmasked kids in my living room (the neighbors coming to welcome us, they heard a kid moved in) I almost had a heart attack. In fact, I was so tired from the drive from OKC that for a moment I actually thought I was at the wrong house, that I was hallucinating, because how in the world could there be unmasked bodies in my living room.

Then I started talking to people here. And I realized that the way I thought they were insane for not being deathly afraid of covid, they thought I was insane for being petrified. Because the disease hadn’t hit here; their businesses were destroyed and their kids were out of school (in a rural area with barely functional internet, remote school = a lost year) and their lives were totally fucked up, for a disease that never arrived at their doorstep. I came to understand why they weren’t worried, why here life looked (almost) normal. I told them about what it was like to live somewhere covid tore through, the freezer trucks of bodies on the FDR Drive and my previously healthy 27yld brother so sick with it the first spring he thought he was about to die (but too scared to go to a hospital), my dad’s relative in the next NYC wave on a vent for months and lucky to be alive but may never walk again, the doctors in OKC pleading on the news to please wear a fucking mask because the hospitals were fucking full, and the neighbors stopped thinking I was psycho when I carried extra masks for their kids, and made them put them on, when I took them to town for ice cream. I never stopped masking. But we did indoor dine here (once, BBQ, it wasn’t delicious enough for how anxious I felt) and I did bring all the kids, including my toddler, to a fairly crowded children’s museum in the big (small) city an hour away, where the rest of us were masked but the one with his hands in his mouth, who was all up in other kids’ faces, the one who really should be masked, wasn’t because he won’t leave it on for more than a minute.

Actually it’s a lie to say that I never stopped masking- I have dashed into little stores here, without one, because I’m vaxed! It’s safe here! Covid felt done. We had friends come here to visit this summer. Friends who are vaxed, but that doesn’t seem to really matter enough anymore. We had the neighbors over for meals, indoors (you see, more indoor dining! A minute ago I was just thinking restaurants, but why would plagues only spread in restaurants?). They had us for meals. The girls are a crew, new best friends, making my daughter’s life here so, so much happier, constant sleepovers (their kids were at our house this afternoon; my kid is at their house right now). The parents and grandparents are wonderful, making my life here, and husband’s life here, so much easier, so much better. We help them with stuff, they help us with stuff, there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t see each other, unmasked. Some of the adults in their household are vaxed; some of the adults in their household are not. The kids are all too young to be vaxed. But it (living, doing shit again, seeing people again) really stopped feeling scary; it really felt like everything was fine, normal-ish, normal-er. The end of the pandemic felt in sight.

I signed my child up for school here. Real school, not mommy school, school with a school bus. She was a little anxious, I had to talk her into it, I sold it hard, I bought her whatever pair of new sneakers she wanted for her new school (she hasn’t had gym class in a year and a half; for a phase in Oklahoma she wore one boot and one sandal every day, why not). She wasn’t anxious about sneakers or covid; she was anxious that maybe she hadn’t learned enough in homeschool (I am not a teacher! I did not homeschool because I am good at it or love it or wanted to, I homeschooled because I was scared of her getting covid at school and dying), that she would be behind. She isn’t behind. I followed the real school curriculum as best I could (as in: sometimes totally and sometimes not at all), and somehow, when I gave her the standardized “real school” test “at the end of the year” (aka the day I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to focus on my work or I wasn’t going to have an income, the day I’d decided we’d done as much as we could and it was time to be done), she sailed through it, this kid is smart. Smart as in needs to be in actual real fucking school to stay smart and learn and reach her potential.

She got excited- one of the neighbor kids is in her grade. The other kid is older- but the school is small, she’d see her tons. She was excited; I was excited. I registered her for school. Her new teacher sent a nice note. We all were excited. She’s never taken the school bus before but the neighbors take it and she’d be fine on the bus with her besties, the bus would pick her up in front of their house since there’s nowhere to turn around up our hill (we are VERY rural), they’d all get on and off the bus together. She has been backpack shopping. We have been discussing what she’ll have for breakfast (honey nut Cheerios), what she wants me to pack for lunch (she says just Goldfish, I say turkey sandwich, we’re working on it).

But now, 18 days before school starts here, I am thisclose to pulling her out, to embarking on another lovely (not), gratifying (not) year of homeschool, because of covid, delta. When we got to our new home in our new tiny town in June, there was no covid here. Now, our county is listed by the CDC as a high transmission area (is there anywhere in the US that isn’t?). 80% of senior citizens here are vaxed; 50% of the total population is, well below the national average. 15 cases per 100,000, in a county of 100,000. I guess this is less rampant than our previous pandemic locales, NYC (currently 25/100K), OKC (49/100K). This is splitting hairs, everywhere is bad. This is what panic does to me: are we better or worse for every decision we’ve made in the past year and a half, every decision that got us here? There are fewer cases here but fewer people and fewer vaccinated people and fewer ICU beds. We aren’t safe even here, but at least we are happy (happy aside from fear of delta death).

I don’t know whether to send my kid to school in 18 days. There will be masks but masks aren’t enough (how many masks do I make her wear? two, ten, a thousand?). This choice feels crazy— in March 2020, when that covid was mostly sparing kids, I yanked her out of school. Now, this covid does hurt kids. How much longer, how many more years, can parents be in this position to make this nightmare choice? What will hurt her more: school or no school? There are vaccines, more than enough in America. We shouldn’t be having to make this choice.

As it is, because of toddler— not because of toddler, because of being a parent to children in a pandemic— my work life, and husband’s, will be severely impacted this year, again. I can’t send him to daycare because he’s too little to leave a mask on (he won’t even leave his pants on!) in a room full of other unmasked toddlers, whose families may or may not be vaxd, may or may not wear masks (there has been a noticeable increase in supermarket mask wearing since we got here, but still not enough, is any of it enough?), may or may not be going to parties and weddings and funerals, daycare providers who may or may not be doing all the same. This means I can only apply to remote jobs, so I can be home with him. Husband has some flexibility, more than he did in OKC, but god forbid he has to work while I have a work call or meeting or work due I didn’t manage to get done at 4am or 11pm when the house is quiet. He can’t bring toddler to work with him, his work is up on scaffold, stenciling ceilings. This will be another year of me muting myself on Zooms while toddler pulls his diaper off and hurls poop at the cat. Would it really be so much harder to also be trying to teach parts of speech to our daughter at the same time? Yes, it would, but I don’t know if I can send my kids back out into the world until they’re vaccinated. I am counting the days, holding my breath, until they can be.

I used to believe in personal choice. I don’t anymore. I want this shit to be mandated, I want the government to line us up and force mRNA into holdouts’ arms, I want it to be required, to be able to function in and interact with and benefit from society in any way, shape, or form. I have been very lucky in the pandemic. Privilege stacked on privilege on privilege, to be fussing over my Zooms in my hamlet. I had been pretty pandemic perky, baking my pies and playing with my pandemic pets and (thinking about) doing puzzles, but I’ve reached my breaking point. This shit could be done, but it’s not, and I’m scared it never will be.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

beneath the daylight moon;

CHAPTER 1.

“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?”

Jaehyun doesn’t know, nor did he care to notice that such a thing existed; it was a mystery to him, but you were a bigger enigma.

for the man who deserves the sun, the moon, and the stars; happy birthday, jaehyun ♡

“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?”

It was a nice day out; sparse clouds rolled along the vast, celeste sky like cotton floating adrift in the cool breeze. As they pass by, the image of the moon appears stagnant behind them. It was bright enough to see the dark craters on its face, but not enough to outshine the warm sun on the opposite horizon.

Jaehyun returns his attention to you, unable to answer your question.

He walked up the two extra flights of stairs up to his apartment’s rooftop to scope out the area, eager to rent the space out for an area where he could garden. He hadn’t expected someone else to be here.

You sat on an old crate, leaning back on your arms, and staring up at the sky, wearing dark denim short overalls with dried splashes of paint over a white tee. You looked entranced by the scene above you, enough for Jaehyun to peek up as well and expect to see something like a plane passing by or a balloon a child had accidentally let go of.

Instead he saw a moon present during daytime. It wasn’t new to him, but it wasn’t necessarily something he paid attention to either. He was about to mind his own business until you asked him the question.

“Well?” You turned your head to him, maintaining your position.

“I—” Jaehyun stuttered, “I don’t know.”

You stared at him, stunned, before you pouted, bringing your attention back to the moon above you. “That’s no fun.”

He frowns, is it that fascinating? It’s barely even noticeable; just a transparent circle in the blue sky. “It’s just a moon. It’s there every night.”

You gasped at this, sitting up straight and putting a scandalized hand over your chest. He flinches in his place, surprised at your reaction. 

“Yes, we see the moon every night, but it’s daytime—” You gestured to it, “It’s a daytime moon!”

Jaehyun looked back up, warily watching the waning moon for a moment, before returning his attention to you. You were pointedly staring at him, waiting for a response. When he’s confused once more on what to say, you let out a dejected sigh. 

“No one understands.” You mumbled under your breath, standing up and dusting your bottom off. With one last look at the moon, you spun to face him, “You’re new here, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you before. What brings you up to the rooftop? No one ever goes here.”

“Oh, yeah, I moved in a few days ago. I was just checking it out to see if it’s good enough to be a garden space.”

“Garden space? Oh no…” You spun around, “That means this place will be a restricted area.”

“Not at all!” He said, “You’re free to keep coming here. I’m willing to share any of the fruits of my labor as long as it’s not abused. I’ll start with herbs, though. Actual fruits might take a while.”

You giggled, appreciating the little dimples on his cheeks as he joked. “Do you plant flowers?”

“I don’t.” Jaehyun replied with a little shake of his head, but when he sees your lips fall to a frown, he immediately takes it back, “But I’ve always wanted to. I don’t know what I should try first. Would you like to recommend some I should try?”

He wasn’t eager to take care of flowering plants. He picked up gardening so he could have fresh herbs and produce for cooking. Nevertheless, seeing your eyes brighten up after he asked you made him feel happy.

“Personally, I love Four O’clocks.” You told him, bashfully shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know if they’re easy to grow though.”

“Four O’clocks?”

You nodded your head, “They bloom from four to eight in the evening. If they’re too difficult to grow, I heard sweet peas are easy to care for.”

“Sweet peas.” Jaehyun repeats, “Alright. I’ll keep those in mind.”

A blanket of silence fell between you with only the whispers of the wind and sounds of cars driving down the streets filled the air. He avoided your gaze, suddenly overcome with shyness, ears blushing with his cheeks.

You smiled to yourself, “Well, I should get going now.”

As you started to walk towards the only exit, he startled you by asking for your name.

“I’m Jaehyun.” He held out his hand to you.

Your eyes warily ogled his hand, pressing your lips together. Reluctantly, you stuck your hand out and softly gasped as he curled his fingers around your palm and shook it. “I’m… [Y/N].”

He smiled, cocking his head to the side as you both retracted your hands from one another. “Well, it’s nice meeting you, [Y/N]. Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll have this shabby rooftop brimming green. Maybe get fake grass for you to lie on to see your daylight moon better.”

He looked up above, catching sight of the faded moon peeking behind another cloud as it rolled by.

“I’d like that.” You sighed, following his gaze. “Well, I’ll have to go now. It was nice meeting you again.”

“Likewise.” Jaehyun raised his hand to wave you off, but you were briskly walking out of there before he could even do so. You were weird — not in a bad way. You were endearingly eccentric. He hummed to himself, glancing back up at the sky, pondering on the question you had asked him beforehand.

“Why do we see the moon during daytime?”

Jaehyun finally rented out the rooftop and two days after meeting you, had begun cleaning up the area. A part of him hoped to see you that day, he wished he had asked what your apartment number was, but then he remembered how hesitant you were to even shake his hand. That night he met you, he told his grandmother about you and the conversation you had about the moon. He thought his grandma would agree with you being a little odd, but instead he got scolded for his answer.

Now that he had time to think and look up the scientific reason behind daytime moons, he has an answer for you that he hoped you would like. 

After a few hours of tossing trash and debris into boxes for easy disposal, he took his work gloves off and sat down on the crate you used before. He wiped the sweat of his forehead with his forearm, panting loudly as he caught his breath. The rooftop was the perfect level to be cold when the wind blew, but still be warmed by the sun’s rays.

He peered up towards the sky, looking for the daytime moon. From what he understood from his google searches, today would be the last day to see it properly until the full moon passes. As he waited for a large cloud to pass, he felt like someone was watching and turned his head to the entrance.

You flinched when he turned to you, clutching the pale blue handkerchief to your chest. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Jaehyun swung his legs over the crate’s corners to face you properly, “I thought it would be you.”

“How would you know it’s me? There’s 15 other tenants here.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I had a feeling.”

“Like, you sensed me? Like a… ghost?”

Jaehyun chuckled, shaking his head, “I wouldn’t go that far. You have a peculiar aura to you.”

“I get that a lot.” You curtly laughed.

He patted the empty space beside him after scooting over the edge and moving his water bottle to the floor. You took up his offer and sat beside him, folding your hands on your lap.

“I wish I could help you, but I only came out here for a breath of fresh air.” To demonstrate it, you inhaled deeply, slowly releasing it through your mouth. “It gets suffocating in my room.”

Jaehyun wanted to ask why, but you quickly changed the subject.

“Is gardening your hobby or is it related to your job?”

“Both — er, well, more of the first one. I want to start a restaurant; a classic Korean restaurant using my grandmother’s recipes. But being in a foreign country, the ingredients to make the recipes truly authentic aren’t readily available. And if they were, they’d be so expensive.”

You watched him swipe the bottle from the floor and take a lengthy gulp of it, nearly downing half of it. His Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp, protruding out of his thick, creamy neck. You snapped yourself out of it, handing your handkerchief to him when he proceeded to wipe his brow with his forearm.

He quietly thanked you, dabbing the cloth over his mouth before dragging it over his forehead.

“What brings you to this small city anyways? I’d do anything to get away from here.”

“Came from Korea when I was just 5 years old, moved every few years because of my dad’s job, and eventually settled here with my grandma to take care of her.” Jaehyun turned his attention to the cityscape, “It’s nice and quiet, but not too rural.”

“Do you ever wish to go back to Korea?”

He didn't reply immediately as he continued to stare off into the distance. There was a large lake in the heart of the city; people fished there no matter what the season, they swam during spring and summer, and went ice skating during winter.

“I think if I ever went back, I’d feel like a fish out of water, you know?” He looked down to the water bottle in his hands, “It doesn’t matter if I have relatives I’m close to there or I’m fluent in speaking the language, I’ll still feel like a foreigner.”

You offered him a smile, “Well, that’s a given. Especially if you have that kind of mindset. You said you moved every few years, but you eventually settled in long enough before the next city, right? You’ll be able to call your ancestor’s land home eventually. I mean, you live in one of the apartments that predominantly houses Koreans.”

Jaehyun glanced at you, nodding afterwards, “I guess you’re right. But I don’t think I want to go back to Korea just yet anyways.”

“That’s understandable. You haven’t even started your garden yet.” You giggled, gesturing to the empty space in front of you. “I should be heading back anyways. It was nice talking to you.”

“It was. Next time, we’ll talk about you, alright?” He laughed, “Not fair that only I get to talk about myself.”

Once again, you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip, “Alright. Next time then.”

He watched you slip through the open door, careful not to trip the heavy rock that kept it open. Dejectedly, he sighed at the mess he had yet to clean up. A part of him wanted you to stay longer, not even to help, but just accompany him. When he stood up, the handkerchief you lent him fell to the ground and he grabbed it, running after you.

“Hey, [Y/N], wait!” He yelled down the stairwell. You should have probably gone down just one flight of stairs since you left, but his voice just echoed back at him. Were you that in a hurry to leave? Confused, he resolved to wash your napkin first before giving it back to you.

Going back outside, he put his fists on his hips and studied the rest of the area he had to clean up. He could finish this in two — three days, tops. But the seeds, soil, and pots are coming tomorrow and he doesn’t want to bother his grandma by dumping all those in their tiny apartment. Like the distant sound of a telephone ringing, he got an idea and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

After half an hour and phone call later, Jaehyun’s close friend, Mark, comes to his rescue — although unwillingly.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to help you out,” He grumbled, hoisting a trash bag full of dust over his shoulder, “For free.”

“I promised you naengmyeon, didn’t I? Besides, don’t act like it’s all heavy lifting.” Jaehyun swept the ground with a broom.

He overheard Mark grumbling under his breath and chose to ignore it. He met the young man in college through his best friend, Johnny, who is Mark’s older stepbrother, and it was from them that he heard about this city. Mark’s only here for the summer break before finishing his senior year in college in the bigger state and Jaehyun’s going to make sure he utilizes him well.

“Yo! It stinks here!” Mark exclaimed, traversing to the other side of the rooftop he hadn’t even gone to yet, “Ew! Man, there’s a dead rat! And a bird!”

Jaehyun just laughed, “Just pack them up with the rest of the trash!”

“I’m not touching those!”

“Mark, you have gloves on, plus you can just push them into the bag.”

The younger man just grumbled again, “Those better be the best damn naengmyeon I’ll ever have!”

“Subak naengmyeon!” Jaehyun retorted, bursting out laughing when he caught the excited, surprised look on Mark’s face before he turned around and picked up the carcasses right away after placing a secondary barrier in the form of an extra trash bag over his gloves.

The next hour or so goes without a hitch and they finally cleared the entire rooftop before the 2 hour mark. They tied the trash bags together to make it easier for them to haul down to the floor below to toss it in the trash chute. 

“Was that so hard?” Jaehyun chuckled, breathlessly, while he pulled out your handkerchief from his back pocket and started to wipe the sweat build up all over his face. “Let’s drop this in the chute and I can make those cold noodles.”

“Yes!” Mark cheered, eagerly grabbing two bags and heading to the door.

After that was settled, they washed up in Jaehyun’s apartment and Mark played games on his phone while Jaehyun got to cooking. He would have asked him to help out, but based on experience, the younger man is better off not doing anything inside the kitchen aside from eating.

Halfway through preparing the meal, Jaehyun’s grandma came out of her room and Mark enthusiastically greeted her.

“Oh, Little Markie.” She fondly cooed, “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I helped Jaehyun clean up the rooftop and he’s repaying me through cold noodles.”

“It’ll be ready in a while!” Jaehyun chimed, “This is exactly for 3 people.”

“Go on ahead without me, I’m going to head down to do laundry.” Jaehyun’s grandma gestures to the small basket of clothes by the door.

“Wait, grandma, can you wash this for me?” He fished out your handkerchief out of his pocket and jogged over to her, “Someone lent it to me earlier and I forgot to give it back, so I wanted to wash it before I run into her again.”

She took the cloth from him and tossed it into the basket, “Alright. I’ll be back later. You two enjoy now.”

“See you, Mrs. Choi!” Mark waved his hand and Jaehyun bit his tongue to stop from laughing; his friend seemingly reverts back into a child every time he interacts with his grandma, but then again, his grandma is known to be endearing and fond towards all his friends.

When his grandma took her leave, Mark eyed him suspiciously, a sly smirk on his face.

“What?”

The younger of the two narrowed his eyes, “You were with a girl before I came over?”

Jaehyun knew where this was going. He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah. Met her the other day when I checked the rooftop. She’s… eccentric.”

“So she’s weird?”

He instinctively scowled at him, “In a good way. I caught her staring up at the moon.”

“Bro, that’s creepy, you met her at night on the roof? She could have been a ghost.”

With every fiber of his being, Jaehyun fought the urge to roll his eyes, “I don’t believe in ghosts, and no, I was checking out the roof remember? Why would I do that at night? I met her during daytime.”

Mark pursed his lips, “But the moon is also out?”

“It happens. Apparently, it’s a pretty common phenomenon for the moon to appear even if the sun is out.” He lifted a spoon to his lips to taste the sauce and nodded his head in approval, “Hey, grab me two bowls?”

“Is she hot?” Mark jumped up to his feet and went straight for the cupboard to grab two bowls as requested. He set it by the noodles and began to fill both up.

“She’s pretty.” Jaehyun paused; that seemed like an understatement if he were to be honest, but he doesn’t want to give his friend any ideas. “If you keep helping me up on the rooftop, you could meet her.”

“Ayy,” He held his hands up and stepped away from the bowls while Jaehyun poured the soup on them, “You’re just tryna get me to do free labor for you.”

He laughed, nodding his head because he got caught. After pouring the soup into both bowls, Jaehyun arranges the toppings on each of them, “But is it really free labor if you get to eat good food afterwards?”

Mark threw his head back and groaned, “Stop baiting me with food! I’ll get fat before grad pics are taken.”

“You can’t get fat on Korean food. Not with the recipes I make. Besides, once I get the garden thriving, it’ll be a lot healthier.” Jaehyun huffed, “Also, I only need help setting up; make plant boxes, arrange some pots. I’m not asking you to plant, water, or harvest — although I won’t decline if you want to.”

“Fine. Just because you make Michelin star quality food—”

“— have you ever even eaten at a Michelin star restaurant?”

Mark tsk’d at him, “I also wanna meet this girl. You haven’t dated anyone ever since—”

“I’m not looking to date anyone.” He cut him off, handing him chopsticks. “And I still don’t plan to.”

They took their bowls to the small round dining table and sat down. Mark thanked him for the meal and they started to eat. The loud slurp and satisfied moan from Mark brought a smile to Jaehyun’s face. Those kinds of reactions are what drives him to cook even more and he hopes he’ll be hearing them reverbing off the walls of his very own bistro.

As Mark took a bite out of the watermelon Jaehyun used to garnish, he asked, “I can’t wait for you to start your own resto, man. I’ll be there every week — dine in, take out — I’ll have it delivered, too. I’d take my girlfriend to your restaurant for dates.”

This made Jaehyun burst out laughing, “You need a girlfriend to do that, Mark.”

“Shut up! I’m tryna hype you up!” He snarled, “It’s not like you’re opening your restaurant tomorrow, are you?!”

“Point taken.” He shrugged, picking up a hefty amount of noodles with his chopsticks and shoving it into his mouth.

It’s the perfect meal after working hard under the sun; cold and refreshing. He didn’t like eating them at first, finding it weird to eat something he’s accustomed to eating hot now ice cold. Eventually, the dish grew on him, especially on summer days he spent with his grandparents.

For the rest of the meal, they filled the silence with slurping and talked about his plans for the restaurant. Somehow, he ended up giving Mark a part time job in the restaurant that’s yet to be established as either a busboy or a waiter in case he doesn’t find a job yet.

“So worth it.” Mark sighed after he brought the bowl to his lips and threw back his head to finish the soup. “Damn, fine, I will work to eat this kind of food everyday. I should have taken a pic and sent it to Johnny! He’d be so jealous.”

“You can take a picture of my grandma’s bowl if you’re sticking around long enough for her to come back.” Jaehyun suggested, gesturing him to hand his empty bowl over so he could put them away.

“Thanks for the meal.” Mark clapped after pushing his bowl towards him. “Bro, I’m so excited for you! Your resto is gonna pop off, no doubt. And because of you, Johnny’s gonna come back home to handle the business shit.”

Johnny promised to save up to help him with the lease and other financials so he’d been working two jobs in a completely different state to match up the savings Jaehyun had from all the jobs he had previously worked. Jaehyun could easily pay off most of the things needed, but Johnny reiterated that this is a joint business and he won’t let him do so. Even though they both graduated with a degree in business management, Johnny said he’ll take care of all the paperwork while Jaehyun can cook his heart out.

Jaehyun will always be grateful he ran into Johnny during the first class of their freshman year and clicked with him because they shared the same ethnicity, more so that he supports him with everything he does. Admittedly, he’s sad that his best friend had to work so far away from them, but he’ll be home soon and help achieve his dream, plus he had Mark as the best hype man. With no pun intended, he can taste the future.

It’s been nearly a week and Jaehyun hasn’t seen you. He’s worried for some reason; did something happen? Are you alright? He always brought your handkerchief with him so he could return it and some food he made for you to try, but you never showed up. Even Mark doubted your existence when he kept coming over to help build the plant boxes that were finally delivered.

They were just finishing up, deciding where to place the plant boxes with trellises — whether up against the parapet or with the rest of the plant boxes in the middle — when he had the urge to look back at the door and found you watching them through the door.

“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, face breaking out into a tired smile, only for it to fall when you ran away just before Mark turned around. “Hey, wait!”

Jaehyun tried to run after you, taking large strides, but like last time, when he leaned over the banister to find you, you were gone. He called out to you, but all he saw peeking up the stairs was a scruffy-looking man from four floors down. Jaehyun apologized and the man retreated. He returned to Mark, who decided to move one of the ceramic pots to the other side of where they were originally placed.

“Did you catch her?” He asked, dusting his hands off.

“No. I wonder why she ran off like that. I didn’t even catch her running down the stairs… maybe she lives just on the floor below.” Jaehyun frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was sure it was you; you were wearing the same denim overalls.

Mark’s phone rang and he cursed at seeing the notification, “Gotta go. I forgot I had to pick up groceries for my mom.”

“Thanks for today. Tell her I said hi.” He waved as he watched the younger man run to the door as if his life depended on it.

Alone, Jaehyun turned back to check the work they’ve done today. Aside from the trellis, all the plant boxes had been laid with all the proper layers for drainage and just needed to be sowed. He wanted to plant everything all at the same time, but he could plant the Four o’Clock seeds you requested. He had already soaked the seeds overnight and even sanded it according to the google searches he made to plant and care for them. He walked over to the collapsible table he set up and took the flower seeds off the paper towel he left them on.

“You’ve started planting?”

Jaehyun jumped away from you, flinching at your sudden appearance.

“Oops,” You giggled, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You have light footsteps, huh? I’m only planting the Four o’Clocks today.” He showed you the seeds in his palm, “Why did you run off a while ago?”

You blinked at him, “Uhm, well, I thought I left the iron plugged in a-and I didn’t want to bother you and your friend.”

“We were done anyways and you wouldn’t be a bother if you decided to come up here. He wanted to meet you, you know.”

“Oh… I’m… just extremely shy. You just caught me off guard the day we met.” You squat beside him as he sowed the seeds into one of the little ceramic pots, “I would have run off if I had the chance.”

Jaehyun chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”

This made you pause, repeatedly blinking at his hands as they gently folded the soil over the seeds. The other day, you would never admit to it, but you were secretly watching him and his friend — Mark, as you heard him call the other — and you were astonished at how strong Jaehyun was. Compared to his friend, he pulled and carried materials on his shoulders with ease. It was a stark contrast to how he planted the seeds just now.

“I believe I owe you a short narrative of my life.” You cleared your throat, looking for somewhere to sit on, and walked over to two collapsible chairs that matched the table. You sat on one while you waited for Jaehyun to dust his hands clean.

Once he sat down, you shrugged, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything you’re comfortable with sharing.” He mirrored your action, “I would have brought extra snacks if I had known I’d be running into you again. Oh, shit — I forgot your handkerchief back in my room.”

“It’s fine.” You shook your head, “I’m in no rush to get it back.”

You let yourself get distracted by a cat’s loud meowing somewhere below, thinking of something to share to him.

“Well,” You started off, “I was supposed to start my Master’s degree for education 3 months ago, but I chickened out the last minute. I just felt like… it’s not something I want to do at the moment.”

“So what have you been doing? Painting?” Jaehyun gestured to the paint marks on your clothing, “Your clothes always have paint on them.”

You stuttered, “Oh, uhm, yeah — just getting the creative juice flowing. Never liked anything to keep it, though. I think I’m more into photography.”

“Like portraits? Landscapes?”

“Anything.” You paused, “Haven’t really found a niche yet. That’s why I’ve been painting.”

He nodded, understanding your situation. “Hey, there’s this mural on the other side of that wall—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s such an eyesore.”

Jaehyun blinked at you, “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s just unfinished. Maybe the person who started it moved out or maybe they just lost motivation. But I think it still looks great; just unfinished.”

Unfinished, you repeated in your thoughts. It’s such a sad word for you; incomplete, undone.

“You could paint over the mural if you think it could be better.”

The mural was yours to begin with. You started it half a year ago when you went up here to escape reality. It was just a mess of angry, distressed brush strokes of a multitude of colors overlapping one another; what made it look incomplete in the first place? You just kept adding layer after layer, never satisfied with how it looked.

“Maybe.” You croaked out, realizing you hadn’t responded to him. “I’d need to buy all the paint though, so I can’t work on it immediately.”

“No rush. You can’t force art.” He said in a comforting manner. “I didn’t learn to cook right away. My grandma has unlimited patience with me every time I burnt something.”

“I wish my older sister had the same patience as your grandma.” You fiddled with your thumbs, “I live with her — uh, well, technically, she lives with me… with her boyfriend and baby.”

Jaehyun gave you an awkward smile, “They live with you?”

You shut your eyes, hanging your head low, “I love my sister and I love little nephew, too. But her boyfriend is a piece of shit. Absolutely useless. Doesn’t even consider moving since he considers me free housing even though he can afford it. He doesn’t even help pay rent!”

“So it’s that kind of situation, huh? Your sister must love him for staying with him.”

You averted your attention elsewhere, biting down on your lip with guilt. She’s still with him because of you, she wants to leave him but she can’t because of you. It’s not your place to tell Jaehyun about the real cruelty your sister’s boyfriend does to her, not to mention he’s a shitty father to your nephew, but you don’t want to drag him into this mess.

“I wish she’d wake up.” You grumbled. You wished you would wake up, too.

“If there’s anyway for me to help, just tell me.” Jaehyun put his hand over yours, the sensation of his skin against yours still confounding you.

You met his gaze, reading the sincerity in the dark chocolate pools of his eyes. You barely know him, but why does it feel like you’ve known him all your life? “Thank you.” You whispered and you watched him retrieve his hand.

“Whatever happens, you can also escape to my place. My grandma loves to meet new people. I’m sure she’ll love you. I can introduce you to Korean food, too. Are you okay with spices?”

“It really depends.” You bashfully admitted, hoping it doesn’t sound like you were turning his offer down.

“Well, if you come over, we’ll see it ourselves.” He beamed at you, dimples flashing in full display. “I live in room 307.”

This caught you off guard. You lived on the same floor as him. Why haven’t you noticed?

When you didn’t say anything after him, even though he had hoped you would reply with your room number, Jaehyun smacked his thighs. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable for disclosing your room number to him. “I have to start cooking dinner. Are you going to stay longer here?”

“Uh—” You followed his movement as he stood up, “Y-yeah, I will.”

“See you later. Don’t stay for too long. It gets cold up here.”

“I’ll be fine.” You smiled, waving at him as he slowly inched towards the door.

After he left, you stared at the door a little longer before looking down at your hands. You could stay for as long as you want because the cold doesn’t bother you. You can’t feel the cold or the heat or anything… aside from him.

It was a little alarming to Jaehyun that you hadn’t been up on the roof for two weeks. Yes, he counted the days. Did something happen with your sister and her boyfriend? Did you two finally escape him? Did he do something bad? Are you safe? So many questions plagued his mind but he doesn’t know what to do to get answers to them. Mark is no help because he has to see you with his own eyes to even believe you were real.

After your last talk, Jaehyun had made it a point to bring your handkerchief with him so he can finally return it to you. He even washed it again despite not using it just in case the sweat from working under the sun seeped through his pants.

It was a shame though because he’s proud of the progress of his little rooftop garden. All the plant boxes have been sowed with their respective seeds, he purchased a picnic set so he could have meals up here with friends and family, and most importantly, the 4 o’clocks have started to germinate along with the sweet peas that he decided to plant as well. His grandma liked to take afternoon tea up here as well, hoping to meet you after he had spoken often about you, but fortunately doesn’t doubt your existence just because of your absence like Mark.

Jaehyun didn’t have much work to do these days aside from watering and making sure there were no pests since the materials he needed for the pergola hadn't arrived yet. It was a good thing the past days were cloudy enough for his grandma to rely on just sunscreen and not tire herself from holding an umbrella.

Another day is about to end, the sun setting across the horizon. Even Jaehyun hadn’t seen the daytime moon the past week — or maybe he just didn’t bother to check during the prime hour when it’s clearly visible. Heaving a dejected sigh, he goes back to his apartment. He should have really asked for your number — to, you know, check up on you.

Arriving on his floor, he took his time to walk up to his door, briefly glancing when he heard a door open. He didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but did a double take when he saw you.

“[Y/N]?” He exclaims, a little too excitedly, and took three long strides towards the woman he thought was you.

She turned to face him, alarmed and confused.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone I knew.” Jaehyun stepped back, sheepishly rubbing his neck. He bows his head out of habit, “Sorry again—”

When he looked back up at the woman, he faltered. She really did look like you.

“Wait, I’m sorry, but are you…” He licked his lips, “[Y/N]’s sister?”

The woman watched him apprehensively as she closed the door but kept her hand on the knob, “I am. And you are?”

“I’m Jaehyun. I moved here just a month ago. I was wondering where [Y/N] is. I haven’t seen her in awhile. Is she okay?”

She looked at him like he had grown two heads. “I don’t understand.”

“Uhm, well, we met up on the rooftop and she’d drop by every now and then. It’s been awhile since she went back up so I got a little worried—”

“Look, boy,” Your sister dismissed, “You’re not making sense to me and I’m busy. You’re wasting my time.”

Jaehyun bit his tongue; did something happen between the two of you? “Okay, I’m sorry again. But could you return this for me? She lent it to me a few weeks ago and I keep forgetting to return it.”

He brought out your blue handkerchief from his back pocket and your sister’s eyes grew wide with alarm. She snatched it from him, making him flinch, and inspected it, revealing the little embroidery of your initials on the corner he had never seen before.

“Where did you get this?!” She hissed, vigorously shaking the fabric in her fist. “I kept this in her drawer!”

“I-I told you! She lent it to me a few weeks ago and—”

“That’s impossible! She couldn’t have!” Your sister’s eyes started to well up, “I don’t understand— she couldn’t have— but how?”

Jaehyun ogled her warily as she examined the handkerchief once more, “I… I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m telling you the truth. She lent it to me herself.”

He described you to her to prove himself; from your hair, to your clothes, to even the reason why you were up on the roof the first time he met you, and that’s what caught your sister’s attention.

“Daytime moon?” She quietly repeated, cutting him off. “Di-did you say she was up on the roof, looking at the daytime moon?”

He nodded, gasping a little when she faltered back and lost her balance, making him reach out to help her stand up properly.

“That can’t be… my sister… [Y/N]... she’s… it’s been three months...”

“What?” Panic gripped at his chest. Three months? He hasn’t even moved in three months ago. “What happened with [Y/N]?”

Your sister looked up at him, visibly perplexed at the situation. Her pupils shook as she stared right at him.

“My sister has been in a coma for three months.”

Chapter 2 by @smileyjaeminies

​cc: @moonttaeil​ @wonjaekook​ @lovestrucked-again​

[keltonwrites]

I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed.  “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

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[janiedean]

crack prompt inspired by all the tvd talk on your blog: damon, jaime, tony stark all walk into a bar alone and end up drunk oversharing ~~

(if you wanna include ships in it anything with delena/dalaric/bamon; brienne; pepper/bruce/strange/rhodey is okay lmfao so pretty much anything goes, i just want them being each other's therapist because the timeline collapsed for some time and their universes interacted somehow lmfao)

*spins the wheel* AAAND hello anon we can absolutely try that u__u

ten years on tumblr anniversary prompt post | buy me a coffee | commissions open

Well, now I really did bite off more than I could chew, Tony thinks as he shakes his head and hopes that he and Bruce didn't fuck up the entire fabric of reality.

Well.

He's not in New York and he wasn't in the span of five seconds since they got the machine turned on, but - but well. Bruce isn't here, so hopefully he'll figure out where the fuck he ended up. Maybe we should have been sober when trying to work out that whole different timelines and multiverses thing.

Now, damage control. He should probably try to not go anywhere, but in case he actually just... teleported somewhere, maybe he should just ask where he is. He glances at his back. He's in front of a bar named Mystic Grill, which... okay, shitty name, but he could be anywhere in fuck-all-middle-of-nowhere Idaho for all he knows. He takes out his cellphone, and there is zero reception.

Bad news.

He sees a blonde kid with a police badge coming up the road, so he clears his throat and stops him.

"Uh, officer?"

"Hello," the kid says, "I don't remember seeing you around here."

Yeah, because I'm not from this world, most likely. "Eh," Tony lies, "I was driving my car but it broke down outside town and the way I got in, there wasn't a sign. Would you mind telling me where exactly I ended up?"

"Mystic Falls," the guy says, "I didn't know the damned State of Virginia now took us off the maps, too." That was sarcastic, Tony can hear it, but.

He's sure that there is no such place where he comes from.

"Right," Tony says, "I'll, uh, be out to find a mechanic then."

The kid gives him instructions to reach one, Tony thanks him and lets him go. Well, he can't certainly go anywhere now, but at least it seems like they fucked up just his -

"What the fuck," he hears from his left side -

Just in time to see a blonde guy wearing a white armor and a white cloak fall through a portal just the same as his own, that disappears a moment later. The blonde guy has green eyes, Tony notices, is lacking a right hand because he has a rather heavy golden prothesis on it that looks tacky also for his own tastes and looks completely out of his depth as he moves to his feet.

"Uh," Tony says, "I imagine you aren't from... here."

"Certainly not," the guy says, sounding... near hysterical, as he takes the surroundings. "What - what are those things anyway?" Cars. Oh fuck, he's looking at cars. "How are you dressed? What - what are these houses?"

"Er," Tony says, "humor me a moment. What's your name and where do you come from?"

The guy rolls his eyes. "Jaime Lannister, and I come from Westeros, thank you very much, now where the hell am I?"

... Great, Tony thinks, now it's not even someplace where the USA exist. "Er," Tony says, "in another world. Listen, it's my fault, I, uh, sort of caused it, and my colleague will most likely fix it, but it's really better we don't go anywhere so he can locate us more easily. Tell you what, can I buy you a drink while we wait?"

"Another world?" The guy blurts, and then - then he stares at Tony, then at his surroundings, then rolls his eyes again.

"You know what," he says, "I've had a shit long day. What can this be on top of fucking undead Catelyn Stark? Buy me the fucking drink."

I'm not doing drunk science anymore, Tony vows to himself as they walk inside the place, and he really hopes he can spin some story as to why the guy with him is wearing bonafide armor -

"And who the fuck are the two of you now?"

So: Tony had not taken into account that there would be just one person in the bar and that this person would be of course not human because no one human could pin the two of them to the wall in a split second and hold them there with such strength, and that's how he finds out that pretty guy with blue eyes, dark hair, pale skin and homicidal face is a damned vampire.

Except that the moment Tony explains it - Jaime or whoever he is is just keeping his mouth shut, wisely - the guy stares at them, and then more, and then -

"With everything I've seen in the last years," he says, "honestly, that's not even the most fucking stupid. So, you just want to lounge around until your friend shows up to fix whatever the fuck you did?"

"Er, yes?"

"Whatever. I'm Damon. I can cover your drinks and compel the bartender to forget your face. I sorely fucking need some myself."

He lets them go, but then - "Get that armor off," he tells Jaime, "this isn't New York City."

"I can't just leave my armor around!"

"Just leave it in the bathroom and take it back later," Damon shrugs, and then nods towards what's most likely the bathroom.

Jaime shrugs and goes, muttering something about maybe having drank too much milk of the poppy, and Tony doesn't want to know whatever the hell that is.

--

"Listen," Jaime says later, wearing an attire that's still obviously Middle-Ages-like but at least doesn't stand out too much, sipping at the bourbon Damon shoved at them, "I'm choosing to think I'm making this all up, but if I'm not, how long will it be before I can go back where I come from? Because you dragged me away from a rather fucking delicate situation."

"No idea," Tony shrugs, "but he's good at his job. And he was less drunk than me. We might get you back at the point you left."

"And what would that delicate situation be?" Damon asks. "Entertain me."

"And why should I tell you?"

"First, I bought you that alcohol and you're definitely enjoying it. Second, this is my town and I could tear your throat open if I wanted to." Fuck. He just showed fangs at the both of them. What the fuck. "Also, my murderous former girlfriend who is the cause of all my problems just finally fucked off this planet for good after possessing my current girlfriend who looks like her but really is the whole contrary and my best friend just came back to life after being dead for a whole lot of time and it's a complicated situation and I need a distraction or ten."

"That... sounds like something," Tony mutters, sipping at his alcohol. It's good, at least.

"Believe me, it is. So, what's the poison from Middle Ages here?"

"Ah, fuck that," Jaime says, takes a drink, and starts talking.

--

Half an hour later, Tony thinks that he and Damon are equally staring at the guy with the same disbelieving face.

"... Was that the undead woman that got you like this?" Jaime asks, blinking. "Considering that he seems like he's some kind of living dead, that's a tad hypocritical."

"No," Damon says, "that's the least of my problems. How haven't you frenched this Brienne person already?"

"I frenched?"

"Dude, he's from the Middle Ages," Tony takes pity on him. "He means put your tongue in her mouth."

"I - what - she's not - I'm not -"

"Listen," Damon cuts him, "I've been there. I mean, thinking I couldn't live without an arse who didn't give a fuck about me, which you admitted. But you do realize you spent at least five minutes of your charming tale describing us exactly how this Brienne of yours is ripped and has pretty eyes and was about to die for you?"

"Yeah, uh," Tony says, "let it come from someone who had the right people in front of him for ages and didn't let himself go for it, you really don't wanna drag it any longer."

"That's - she's a knight, that's not -"

"Oh, sure, all knights are shit where you come from, you said that, but suddenly someone would rather hang than kill you and you're here jittering because you got sucked here while she's dealing with a zombie that wanted you dead but I have to think you don't wanna french her?" Damon rolls his eyes again, pours himself another drink and honestly, Tony has cut down on the alcohol lately but he's gonna just make a damned exception. "Please."

"He's right," Tony says, "and also, let it come from someone whose dad was loaded on money and fairly shitty and still way better than yours, whatever he said about you is wrong."

"How do you know -" Jaime starts, half-blanching.

"Told you," Tony shrugs, "loaded on money, shitty father, at least I missed out on the shit sister. Honestly, man, just fucking drop her like hot coal and follow your gut. And let it come from someone who's fucked around a lot to get distracted, if you wanted to bone her in that bath then you're into her."

"I -" Jaime goes red in the face, finishes the drink, "it's not like it ever happened with anyone else before, it was a mistake, most likely -"

Damon gives him a look that looks halfway worried.

Tony thinks he just matched it, except even more worried.

"My vampire friend," he says, "are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"I'm afraid so," Damon says, and then looks back at Jaime. "Newsflash," he goes on, "if you get hard looking at a naked woman most likely you find her attractive. Also, you can find more than one person attractive in your life. And let it come from someone who's been there in the sense that I thought I could only love fucking Katherine, you really don't want to keep on doing it."

"I didn't say I wasn't done with Cersei," Jaime replies, somewhat weakly.

"Good," the two of them reply at the same time, and Tony has to snort.

"Look at that," he says, "for once I'm the one with the healthiest relationship history sitting at a table. Who'd have thought?"

"Fuck this," Damon says, "I'm getting more bourbon."

"Please," Jaime says, and - well. Seems like when Bruce comes to collect him, Tony won't be sober.

--

"Wait," Jaime says, "wait, wait, wait, she possessed your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, well, as if," Damon shrugs, "honestly, sometimes I think I should have just run away to New York after deserting."

"You deserted what?" Tony asks.

"The fucking confederacy," Damon shrugs. "Well, what are you staring about? I'm a vampire, I've been around ages, I'm from fucking middleofnowhere Virginia, you think I got drafted with the unionists? But I disagreed and I hated it and I never wanted to go, so I fucking deserted. I hope you aren't here judging me, or -"

"Please, I used to build weapons for the army and stopped when I realized it wasn't what I wanted to be, and honestly, that just means you have a conscience, so -"

"Wait, you did what," Jaime says.

"Deserted. An army. Back in the day. Risked my neck for it, and I came back and met Katherine and honestly I should have just gone North, but -"

"Hm," Jaime says, drinking, and then - "you don't regret it?"

"No," Damon says at once, "best decision I ever took. Why, you want to do that, too?"

"Sure he wants to," Tony says when Jaime doesn't immediately reply. "Let me guess, not just your army. You want to desert the whole shebang, don't you?"

"I don't know what a fucking shebang is, but yes. So what?"

"Well, if you want my been there done that advice, do that," Damon shrugs. "From what it sounds like, your entire world is collapsing because of zombies anyway, what do you have to lose? Your sister? You're better fucking off without."

Jaime stares down at the glass, then knocks it down. "Can I have another?"

"Sure," Damon says, and generously tips it.

--

"So what," Tony says, "now that your best friend you had a thing with while your girlfriend was with your brother is back to life you're having trouble adjusting?"

"She also hadn't been possessed by my murderous ex until then," Damon shrugs.

Jaime just looks at them, then drinks some more. "Who am I to judge on that anyway," he says, "but that sounds like a lot of work."

"You wouldn't believe," Damon shrugs, knocking down some more of his bourbon. "Never mind that Stefan won't get over brooding instead of fessing up to the girl he is in love with now, but it's not like I hadn't expected it."

"Tell him to," Jaime says at once. "I let my father fuck things up for my brother once and I hate that I ever did, just - don't."

"This is getting fucking eerie," Damon says.

Tony, who is currently feeling very thankful he doesn't have siblings, takes another sip. Then -

"Man, if it's complicated just date the both of them. If they both like you and aren't the kind of super monogamous people that can't handle a threesome once in a while, they won't have a problem."

"... And what do you know?"

He shrug. "Well," he says, "my steady girlfriend was in front of my eyes for years. Took us a while to get over ourselves. The guy I was doing drunk science with, well. Was an instant hit and I didn't let myself drag it in the centuries and guess what, we have a nice lovely arrangement where I'm with both of them, they commiserate about how much of an idiot I can be and sometimes we all occasionally have sex. It's grand. You should try it."

And I really hope Bruce shows up soon.

"Huh," Damon says, "maybe it has merit. For me. Not for you."

Jaime sputters. "I said nothing!"

"You shouldn't even think about threesomes. I can see it in your face you're not the type. And certainly not including your sister."

"Fuck you," Jaime replies without meaning it, "I was not considering that." Huh. Now he sounds offended Damon implied it. Maybe he really will fess up to the other one when he's back.

"Then it means this enlightening talk has enlightened you," Tony grins. "Mind telling us more about that hand?"

"And why?"

Tony shrugs. It's not like he doesn't have time to waste. "What if I could help you with that thing?" He says, nodding towards Jaime's stump, and then - well. Time to test if he can summon the armor here, too.

--

"God," Damon says a while later, "I'll have to compel that poor bartender so hard, but fuck this is something."

Sure it is, Tony grins. "Hey, I managed to fuck with quantum reality, I'm not the first idiot that passes by."

"Seven Hells," Jaime says, "I have no idea what it is you're putting on me but if it works half as well as that thing you have, I'm going to show back up in King's Landing just to show my sister who has the useless hand now. If she didn't get herself killed."

"Well, now that is one reason I could approve of," Tony laughs, "and don't fucking move."

Sure, building a prothesis from the rests of whatever nonfunctioning electronics the bartender had lying around is... somewhat a challenge, but as stated, he has time to waste and it's not like he's wanted anywhere soon.

"By the way," Damon says as he watches him tinker around with the toolkit he found him in the backroom, "do you need advice in the whole I fucked up and want my brother to forgive me department?"

"What if I do?" Jaime replies through his teeth. "Because now that would distract me from how much this entire thing is fucking hurting."

The more they talk while he tinkers, the more Tony decides he's absolutely glad he was an only child and that his father only fucked one son up.

--

"You're doing this while not even being fucking sober?" Damon knocks back more bourbon. "You sure you don't wanna stay here and turn into an immortal? You'd be useful."

"Thanks but I like my life as it is," Tony snorts. "But if you need tech tinkered with, you can ask while I'm here."

Jaime is just staring at the steel-colored hand coming to life while Tony puts piece after piece together, his throat working up and down.

He drinks some more. "Fuck, if only I had such a thing when I realized what the fuck Aerys had turned into."

"Wait, who's Aerys now?" Damon asks.

--

He hadn't told them that part in detail.

When he's done and Tony is at the fourth finger, he kind of wants to hurl, but mostly -

"Do we really have to stay here," Damon says, "or you think we could sneak him to a VA? I can compel them to just hear that he's talking about Vietnam or something."

"He's not old enough for Vietnam, but you know what, I think we could risk that."

"What in the Seven Hells is a VA?"

"Someone I really could have used in the nineteenth century," Damon sighs, and then just as Tony moves to the last finger -

"Tony, what the hell is this?"

--

Turns out, where Bruce comes from it took him two days to figure this out. He also immediately spots three different improvements Tony could do to that hand, and when he hears the entire shebang he raises his hands and says that he can send Jaime right back when he left at any point and he and Tony, too, but he supposes that if they want to compel the VA before they leave it's not like he's in a hurry, and wait, vampires?

Damon ends up asking him if the threesome thing is really working out as well as Tony says.

While he does, Tony manages the finishing touches on the sort-of-steel-and-iron-hand he cobbled up together, and thank fuck Bruce showed up because he had been the one studying how Barnes's arm worked, back in the day, and gave Tony the pointer he needed to make sure the entire thing was... well, connected to the nervous system without needing to rip Jaime's wrist open.

"Right," he says, "try to move the fingers."

Jaime holds them in a fist.

It works.

"Seven fucking hells -"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a genius. Just keep it out of too many lines of fire, but if you're from the middle ages it should withstand most stuff. You're welcome. And go french that knight of yours instead of waiting, really."

"I think in between him and you, you've made a case. Uh, thank you, I -"

"Nonsense, I was the reason you're here, I might as well have helped out. Hey," he says, "so, what about a last round before we drag him to the VA and Bruce here settles everything?"

"I'm so down for it," Damon says.

"Do I even have a choice," Bruce groans, but then he does sit down at the same table and lets Tony fill his glass.

"Oh, don't look like that," Tony says, "after all I didn't destroy the universe and made some friends, it could have gone worse."

"Wouldn't know about that, but I could have done worse, too," Damon says, and orders more bourbon.

"I sure as the fucking Seven Hells will never manage to explain this to anyone," Jaime says, "but I guess I'm not too disappointed, either."

"Tony," Bruce groans, "did you manage to somehow end up with two people with - never mind. Of course you did. We're never doing drunk science again, hear me?"

"Maybe so," Tony agrees, though... well.

Maybe he will want to check on them, once in a while.

But he can think about how to convince Bruce to make sure they can later.

For now, he'll enjoy his last round.

[peggyrose19]

It is done! And is 3 times as long as my english essay needs to be, yet I guarantee that will take me longer. Anyway. I proofread this thrice, yet I’m sure there’s still a mistake in there somewhere. This fic was again inspired by Miller and the Blog. Characters belong to the wonderful @lumosinlove. I say she’s wonderful each time and each time I mean it. 

@im-oknutzy-trash, @heyitssmiller, @peanut-the-goalie, @spookydiyharrypotterbat, @donttouchmycarrots, and @apumpkinpuff all wanted to be tagged so there you go. Hope you all enjoy!

Interrogations 

“So,” Mrs. O’Hara said in that tone of voice and Finn knew he was in trouble. 

“How’s work going?” 

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, taking a large bite of his pizza. “Just finished a big case.” 

“Really? How’d it go?” Alex chimed in. Finn fought the urge to glare at his older brother. 

“It went okay. We finished the job. One of my partners got injured pretty badly, but he’s doing better now.” 

His stomach turned as he remembered Leo getting shot, lying unmoving on the ground as blood gushed from his stomach. Leo being transferred to the hospital, unresponsive to the EMTs. Standing with Logan by Leo’s bedside, his face pale, his breathing regulated by a machine. Those days had been the hardest. When they weren’t sure what was going to happen, if he was even going to make it. There had been close calls, too many to count, when Finn felt like he couldn’t even breathe. 

“Oh no!” his mom exclaimed, shaking him back to the present. “That’s terrible. What happened?” 

Finn fought to keep his voice from shaking, “Um, he was shot.” The whole family winced. They were all intimately familiar with guns, and knew the damage a bullet could do. 

Hurriedly, he added, “But he’s home now. He’s doing a lot better. Lupin says he should be able to come back to work in a week or so.” 

His mom squinted suspiciously at that, but thankfully didn’t press it. The table moved on to a different topic of conversation and Finn let out a soft breath. 

That had been the worst week of his life, pacing the endless hospital hallways and sitting by Leo’s bed, with Logan at his side, begging him to wake up. Now, a month later, he was at home again, going out of his mind with boredom and begging to go back to work. They had talked, the three of them, before Leo had been shot. Logan had asked to keep them a secret, for just a little while. He wasn’t ready to come out yet. So Finn had vowed to keep it a secret. 

His thoughts wandered so far from the conversation, he didn’t notice Alex asking him something until the room fell silent and he felt everyone’s eyes on him. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, flushing at the attention. 

Alex laid his fork down with a clatter and fixed his brother with a fierce look. “You gonna tell us what’s actually going on or do we have to guess?” 

Finn swallowed. “Nothing’s going on, I’m fine.” 

“Uh huh.” Alex glanced at his parents. “We’re gonna have to guess.” They both nodded with a bit too much excitement for Finn’s liking. 

And then everyone began talking at once. 

“Were you fired?” 

“Or promoted?” 

“Did you get a big case?”

“Did you get injured too? 

“Is it about your team?” 

“Is this about a girl?” 

Finn froze at that last one. “What? No. God.” 

“Ah.” His dad smirked knowingly. “So it is about a girl.” 

“No. Stop it.” Alex reached over and ruffled his hair. 

“Aw, look at him getting all flustered. You should’ve brought her with you.” Finn glared at him. His heart was pounding now, and he felt a bit as though he was going to be sick. 

“It’s not about a girl,” he repeated, gritting his teeth. 

“A boy, then?” Alex asked sarcastically and Finn froze. 

Alex’s eyes grew wide. “Finn?” 

He sighed. 

“Finn, is it about a boy?” Finn just shook his head, gritting his teeth and stared at the table, willing himself to not say anything. 

“Honey?” his mom asked and he snapped. 

“Alright, fine!” Finn shouted. “It’s about a boy, you guessed it. Congrats. I really wish you hadn’t because they asked me not to say anything, but I guess it’s too late now.” 

The room fell silent. If possible, Alex’s eyes grew even wider. 

“They?” 

Finn froze as he realized what he’d just said. “Shit,” he muttered. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes as tears began to form. Without another word, he stood and left the table. 

His bedroom hadn’t changed much; the few things he’d left were still there, although a bit neater than he’d left them. He flopped onto his childhood bed and took a deep breath, willing tears back, before pulling out his phone. With shaking hands, he dialed Logan’s number.

“Hey, Fish!” Logan answered cheerfully. “How’s the city?”

“Lo-” he choked on a sob.

“Finn?” his voice turned concerned.

“Is that Finn?” Leo’s voice asked faintly in the background.

“Yeah, but something’s wrong,” Logan replied, sounding as if he’d turned away from the phone.

“What?” Leo’s voice was louder now.

“I don’t know.” Then, facing the phone again, Logan said, “Finn, I’m putting you on speaker, okay babe?”

“Kay,” he whispered.

“Hey, love, you alright?” Leo’s gentle voice came through the phone and Finn fought another sob.

“They know.” There was a moment of silence, and Finn could almost see the two swapping confused glances.

“Who knows what?” Logan asked.

“My family, they know about us.”

“Oh.”

“I’m so sorry, I know you said you didn’t want to tell anyone, but they kept asking me questions and I slipped and said-”

“Hey hey hey, Finn, it’s okay,” Logan said, effectively stopping his rant. “Just take a deep breath for us, yeah?” Finn complied, taking a shaky breath, and felt his heart rate drop just a little.

“Keep breathing, love. Just like that.” He did, until his pulse stopped racing and tears stopped threatening to spill over.

“Okay. I’m good,” he said, voice still a bit shaky.

“Good,” Logan said, then added, “And look, Finn, I know I said I wasn’t ready yet, but I don’t mind, really.”

“Me neither.”

“Yeah. Besides, it’s been months since we had that conversation. A lot has happened since then.” Finn heard faint rustling, and knew Logan had pulled Leo in closer. He ached to see them, to be with them, to touch them and hold them.

“I miss you guys,” he sniffed.

“We miss you too,” Leo said a bit sadly.

“Thanks for being so cool about all this.”

“Finn, we love you.” Logan’s voice was soft, teasing. “Your family knowing about us is not the end of the world. In no universe would we be mad about that. And I’m pretty sure Alex already knew. I mean, come on.”

Finn laughed a little. “Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me. He was the one who guessed it.” They lapsed into silence for a moment, before Finn let out a long sigh. “I should probably go fix my mess, huh?”

“Mess?”

“Well, I just kinda left the table without providing any explanation whatsoever.”

Logan laughed, bright and loud. “Of course you did. Go, talk to your family. We can call again later.”

“Alright.”

Logan laughed again, “Go. I love you.”

“Love you!”

Finn smiled, “Love you too.”

There was a light knock on the door as Finn hung up and set his phone down. “Come in!” he called, sighing quietly.

The door cracked open and his mom poked her head in. “Hey honey. You okay?”

He glanced at her tiredly. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She smiled a little, and perched on the bed beside him.

“Who was that you were talking to?”

“Mom.”

“Sorry. You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay. That was… um, that was my boyfriends. Leo and Logan.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked gently, without judgement.

“We decided not to tell anyone yet,” he said, then swallowed. His next words were barely above a whisper, “And I was scared.”

His mom pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m sorry we made you feel uncomfortable. And that we bugged you so much at dinner. That wasn’t fair of us.”

“You’re forgiven,” Finn mumbled, face pressed into her shoulder.

She pulled away and pressed a hand to Finn’s cheek, turning his head so he was looking at her. “I support you, no matter what. You know that, right? I support you and I love you and will continue to do so because I am your mother, and I will be until the day I die. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Mum,” Finn said, his voice thick.

“Now, tell me a bit about these boys of yours.”

Finn smiled despite himself. “They’re amazing. They both speak French, which I do not know. But, it’s ho- er, cute.” He flushed. “Logan’s from Quebec and Leo’s from New Orleans. He always complains that it’s cold.” His mom laughed a bit at that. “I’ve known Logan for a little while, but I met Leo when Remus put all three of us together for a case. It’s how we got to know each other.”

His mom gasped. “Wait! The boy that got shot, was that one of them?”

“Yeah. Leo. He almost didn’t make it.” Finn’s voice wavered then.

“Ohh. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t know how,” he whispered. “He didn’t wake up for so long and Lo and I were so scared. I didn’t know how to handle telling you about them when I wasn’t even sure he would survive.”

“Oh, honey,” his mom sighed and hugged him tight. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Yeah, he’s doing a lot better,” Finn sniffed. “Re is letting him start work again next week, which is good. He’s started to go a bit stir-crazy. Right now he’s probably driving Logan crazy at home.”

“Do you guys live together?”

Finn nodded, a bit guiltily. “We got an apartment together a few months ago. It’s really nice.”

“That sounds wonderful, Finn.”

“Yeah it is. And it’s… yeah- it’s us.” They fell silent.

“I love them, Mum,” Finn said quietly after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad.”

Finn smiled.

“You realize you’re gonna have to tell your dad and your brother everything you just told me, right?”

He sighed, “Yeah.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a thump sounded right outside his door. Finn frowned before he crossed the room and tugged the door open. Alex and his dad collapsed at his feet.

“Were you spying on us?”

“No?”

“Yes,” Alex responded at the same time as their dad. 

They scrambled to their feet. 

Finn glanced at his mom and they both burst out laughing.

“Guess I don’t have to tell them,” he gasped out. “Since I’m assuming you both heard everything.”

“It’s possible,” his dad answered. He at least had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. Alex, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, looking unabashedly proud of himself.

“Do you guys want to call them with me?” Finn asked nervously.

“You sure you won’t mind?” his mom asked and Finn shook his head.

“No. No, they’d love to meet you guys.” Hands shaking only a bit, Finn grabbed his phone and called Logan again, this time using FaceTime. “Hey, Lo,” Finn said when his concerned face popped up. “Is Leo there?”

“Finn!” Logan exclaimed. “Yeah, he’s right here.” He turned the phone so that Leo was in frame too, both of them grinning at him.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Leo asked. Finn flushed a bit, feeling Alex’s eyes on him.

“Yeah, a lot better. I have someone here with me, actually.”

“Hi!” Alex blurted out, shoving his face into the frame. Finn pushed him away, rolling his eyes. “That would be my idiot brother, Alex. And these are my parents.” Finn turned the phone towards his mom and dad, who both waved.

“Hi boys, it’s nice to meet you,” his mom said.

“You, too,” Leo said politely.

“Hi!” Logan waved cheerfully.

“Leo, I heard what happened to you,” his mom said. Finn stiffened. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling better? Do you want us to send you anything?”

Leo smiled. “I’m doing much better, thank you. And I don’t need anything, your son has been taking very good care of me. But thank you for the offer.”

“Hey!” Logan protested. “I help too!”

“Yes, of course you do, love.”

Finn grinned at them.

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing better. And I’m glad you had Finn there to help you out.” She smiled. “Alright, we’ll leave you three alone now. It was very nice to meet you both!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Leo and Logan chimed.

Finn rolled his eyes at his parents. “Okay. Bye.” Finn’s parents chuckled at him, his dad ruffling his hair once before they left, dragging Alex with them.

“They’re so in love,” Finn heard faintly through the door and he shook his head, laughing. Alex O’Hara, oblivious to the meaning of the word ‘subtle’.

“Your brother is very...enthusiastic,” Leo said carefully.

“Yes he is.”

“Hey, we were about to watch the hockey game that’s on tonight,” Logan said suddenly. “You wanna join us?”

Finn smiled softly. “I think I’m gonna get some sleep. I’m exhausted from being interrogated all evening.”

“Alright. Get some rest, sweetheart. We’ll call you again in the morning.”

“We love you,” Logan added. “Sleep well.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you in the morning.” Logan blew him a kiss, and Finn grinned before hanging up the phone.

As he laid back on his bed, he sighed heavily, relaxing into the mattress. He thought of everything that had happened over the past hour and smiled a bit. Of all the ways he’d imagined coming out to his family, this certainly hadn’t been one of them. But he certainly couldn’t complain about their reactions.

as always, thank you for reading! i love you all 😘

[bungeenomin]

THE PLAYERS GAME- XIAOJUN X Y/N SOCIAL MEDIA AU {13}

Dejun’s thoughts {12:58 am}

Dejun sighs, locking his phone and placing it on his chest, as he stares at the ceiling.

It hurts sometimes. The things people say. I’m no fool, I knows i’m responsible for my image. I know people create an opinion on me from seeing things I do. But they don’t see everything. They didn’t see me pulling an all nighter the night before a big exam last year, comforting Xuxi when he had his heartbroken. They didn’t see me sitting in the ER for nine hours with Yangyang when he fractured his wrist during a game. They didn’t see me bringing Johnny food every day and making sure he was eating and sleeping during our exams because i knew he was twice as stressed as i was. They didn’t see me driving a damn hour away at four in the morning to collect Kun when he was pissed drunk.

I guess that’s the way life is. People see what they want to see. Judge how they want to judge. People can choose what they think about you, without any key information on you. Like today, that pretty girl at the cross walk. i saw her, and i thought she was pretty. But i don’t know her. She could have the worst personality in the world, or the worst humour, or a really disgusting habit. But from simply looking at her and deciding she was pretty, i saw her as a good person, because that’s what i wanted her to be.

My mom always called me her rock, she still does. No matter what happened, i was always there for her, to this day, living in a different city, i’m always there for her. Things weren’t always great growing up sure, there were arguments and stress, but that’s normal. Mom and dad loved each other at the end of the day. Mom stood by his side throughout everything. I was only twelve and i managed to look after myself while she looked after him. I was the one that was there for her when she came home crying. I was the one cleaning the house and attempting to make food to take the stress off of her. I was there for her when we lost him. But i’m the big bad conceited, self absorbed, selfish prick of a fuck boy.

Yeah, it’s my fault that people see me as a fuck boy. I don’t care about that. Yeah, i have been with a couple more people than the next guy, but just like i wanted the pretty girl at the cross walk to be nice without knowing anything else about her, people want the fuck boy to be a prick without knowing anything else about me.

———————————————————————

let me know what you think! i also take requests for one shots, drabbles, timestamps, scenarios etc🤍

main masterlist | previous | next

socialmedia!au xiaojun!au wayv!au nct!au

pairing: xiaojun X y/n

genre: college!au , fluff , angst

warnings: smut, oral, sex

summary: Hockey player!Xiaojun is the biggest player in UCS, both on and off the ice. He has a different girl practically every time you see him. But when y/n has to learn all about the player for a psychology project, will she just be another girl that’s dragged into his game?

[samwinchestersgf]

obsession (part one)

prompt: “oh my god! he’s obsessed with you!”

warnings: horror, gore, obsessive weirdo, protective sam. nothing worse than what’s in the show, but still unsettling.

pairing: sam x reader

note: any message y/n sends is in ‘’. her other messages are not.

“excuse me?” i clear my throat.

a tall man with smoldering eyes turns around and looks down at me. “hm?”

“this is so random, but could you give me a ride? i’m supposed to be meeting my boyfriend, and i’m really late, and my phone is dead, and i just-“

“sure. but, are you sure you should be getting in the car with a stranger.” he raises an eyebrow, questioning my sanity.

“i noticed the uber sticker on the back of your car.” i point out with a smile.

“y’know, i’m off the clock...” his voice trails off.

i clear my throat, “that’s fine. um, i was just wondering. have a nice day!”

i turn around and awkwardly shuffle awah as the thunder roars even louder. soon, the small mist coming down from the sky will turn into a heavy pour. sam is probably worried sick about me, and i just can’t do anything. there’s no pay phones or anything, and i don’t have is number memorized anyways.

“no!” he calls out to me as i turn around. “i mean, it’s okay, really. i don’t mind.”

the first thick raindrop splashes onto my head. “thank you so much! i can pay you once we’re at his apartment. i just-“

“it’s fine. i’ve been looking for my random act of kindness for the day anyways.” he shrugs, opening the passengers door for me.

i duck in, clutching the knife in my pocket just in case. i might be making a stupid decision by getting in the car with this random man, but it’s my only choice. i may as well being insane in a safe manner.

“how far?” he asks, starting the car.

“only a few minutes. it’s 327 park way.” i respond.

he takes a left. “if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing out there all alone? it’s, like, 11 pm.”

“he was supposed to meet me at this coffee shop. we, uh-“ i make up a lie on the spot. “we have a lot of college work to do. then, he called and said he wasn’t feeling well and that we should just cancel.”

“so, he left you stranded out there?” he asks.

i shake my head vigorously. “no, i decided to go over to take care of him, and i said i’d be there in a few minutes. well, my phone died so i couldn’t call an uber, so i kept walking. i still had a mile or two to walk, and then i saw you.”

“maybe next time don’t walk in the first place. uber straight where you’re supposed to go, especially at night.” he advises.

“noted.” i laugh.

“if i had a girlfriend, i wouldn’t let her go walking at night alone, even if it was just across the street. this city is full of creeps.” his tone gets a little more serious.

“he normally wouldn’t. he’s just been sick lately.” i assure him. “i’m glad you’re just a normal person though, not a creep.”

“i dunno, i pour my milk before my cereal.” he jokes.

i snort. “you are a creep! you’re a self-aware creep!”

“it’s just better that way.” he throws his hands up in defense, before returning them to the wheel.

“you think cereal is better soggy? god, get me out of the car.” i fake vomit.

“what other reason do people put milk in their cereal?!” he chuckles.

“it’s a flavor enhancer.” i roll my eyes.

“that’s why i add it first.” he points out.

“disgusting.” i huff in a joking manner as he parks the car.

“is this it?” he asks.

i nod. “yep.”

“this is phil’s motels.” he raises an eyebrow.

i rub the back of my neck. “uh, yeah.”

“you said you needed a ride to your boyfriend’s apartment.” he catches on to the lie.

look, i lied a lot. sam’s not my boyfriend, but i told him that he was so that he’d know i was going to see a man, so he wouldn’t try to follow me in. this isn’t his apartment, it’s a shabby motel because we’re on a hunt.

“ummm...” i hesitate.

he laughs. “did you make me drive you here for some shady hookup?”

“no! my boyfriend and i are just traveling.” i lie.

“why didn’t you just saw so?” he tilts his head.

“because of you’re reaction to the motel!” i laugh and smack his arm. “i didn’t want you to think i was a prostitute or something!”

he stares at me for a second. “i never caught your name.”

“it’s y/n. y/n l/n.” i cheesily shake his hand.

“i’m bryan. say, why don’t you let me give you my number so that you know who to call next time you need a ride.” he offers.

i show him my phone. “dead.”

“well, you give me your number, and i’ll next you so you can save my contact when your phone is charged.” he suggests.

“okay, sure.” i grab his phone and type my number in. i hand it back to him. “you know, it’s raining really hard. why don’t you come in and let me make you a coffee while the rain settles?”

“i dunno. maybe your boyfriend wouldn’t-“

i interrupt. “oh, he’s harmless. seriously, let me return the favor.”

“okay, okay.” he agrees, taking his key out of the ignition.

i walk him up to the door, and pull my key from my pocket. i wiggle it into the cheap motel lock and finally get it open. when we get in, i slip my wet shoes and coat on. he keeps his on.

“sam?” i call out.

he comes rushing over from the side room. “holy shit, y/n! i was worried about you.”

“i’m okay, i’m sorry. i’ll explain later.” i frown.

“who are you?” he asks, looking at bryan.

“babe,” i emphasize, hoping he’ll catch on and play along. “this is bryan. he gave me a ride over so i offered him inside for a coffee.”

“um, alright. thanks for getting my girlfriend home safely, bryan.” he shakes his hand.

i walk over to the coffee pot, which is conveniently still hot, and pour some into a mug. he clears his throat.

“actually, um, i think i’ll go.” he says awkwardly.

i turn around and catch sam giving him the death glare. i place the mug on the counter. “are you sure? i promise he doesn’t bite.”

i nudge sam in the shoulder, and he shrugs me off. then, he wraps his arm around my waist, playing into the role. he changes his tone, “the storm is awfully bad out there, bryan.”

“no, um, it’s okay. i have somewhere to be. take care.” he rushes out the door.

i turn to sam. “you’re such an ass.”

“what?” he asks innocently, drinking from the fresh mug of coffee.

“you scared him off!” i laugh.

“he’s a creep, y/n. he was looking at you, and...” his voice trails off.

“and what?” i roll my eyes.

“it was creepy!” he finishes.

“he didn’t have bad intentions, never did. he knew, well, er, thought from the start that you were my boyfriend and still wanted to help me.” i inform him.

sam scoffs. “really? did he give you his number?”

“he tried. my phone is dead, that’s part of the reason i needed a ride.” i answer, shrugging.

“so, there was no number exchanging?” he raises an eyebrow.

“well-“

“y/n! you gave him your number?!” he throws his hands up exasperatedly.

“look, he was nice, okay? he helped me, and i’m still alive!” i argue.

“guys don’t normally kill girls that they’re in love with.” he raises his voice.

“he is not in love with me. we were in the car for 10 minutes tops.” i groan.

he pinches his nose. “i’m telling you, it’s a guy thing. we can just tell.”

“you can’t be in love with someone you don’t know.” i cross my arms.

“tell him that.” he answers smugly.

“you are so weird! he probably won’t even text me.” i tell him.

“plug your phone in. there’s probably already a text.” he hypothesizes.

i do as he says, plugging my phone in. it makes a minute to reboot, and we both sit in silence watching it. once it turns on, i connect to my data, and sure enough, there’s a text.

hey, it’s bryan. i sure hope you didn’t give me a fake number lol

i roll my eyes, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

“it means everything.” he testifies.

i throw my hands up. “you know what, who cares?! maybe he does like me. is there a problem with that?”

“no problem.” he answers quickly. “just super weird.”

i ignore him and text bryan back.

‘haha, no. this is my real number.’

he replies almost instantly.

good, good.

is your boyfriend mad?

i laugh.

‘he’s fine.’

i sit down the phone. “he’s not that weird, sam.”

————————————————

i shiver in my coat. my fingers twirl around the loose strings in my pockets. i really need a new coat, especially if sam and i are gonna keep working cases in chicago in the middle of winter.

i order my coffee at the counter, thanking the barista as i grab it. my small hands are instantly warmed up, and i take a much needed deep breath. i notice how i shake as i do so. is it from the nerves or the cold? i guess i’ll never know.

my phone buzzes in my pocket. it’s sam texting me. unknowingly, i smile and take a seat while texting him back.

everything okay?

‘everything’s great. i got coffee.’

iced?

‘i’m not a maniac. it’s like, 4 degrees out here.’

i sit my phone on the table and take another sip of my coffee.

stay warm, and please don’t get into random guys’ cars.

i roll my eyes and reply. ‘okay, dad’

just looking out for, that’s all.

what coffee shop are you at? i have a minute. i can meet you.

i pick my phone up to reply, but i get distracted by a tap on my shoulder. i turn around, and give my eyes a second to adjust to the person right behind me.

“bryan?” i ask.

“haha, yep. is this seat taken?” he asks, gesturing to the seat in front of me.

“um, no.” i shake my head.

my phone buzzes again. hello? did you fall off the face of the earth?

“you look super cold.” he points out.

i smile meekly. “can you blame me? it’s like, 4 degrees outside.”

“it’s in the 30s, nowhere near as cold as it normally gets.” he chuckles. “you must be from somewhere warm.”

did you get into a stranger’s car again? :/

“i’m not really from anywhere,” i explain. i pick up my phone.

‘haha, super funny.’

“i’m sorry, am i bothering you?” he tilts his head.

i shake my head. “sorry, no. my boyfriend is just blowing up my phone.”

“is he meeting you?” bryan asks.

“no, he’s busy doing stuff.” i respond.

seriously, where are you?

i begin responding, ‘joe’s cof’ but i’m interrupted again before i can send the message.

“stuff?” he raises an eyebrow.

y/n please answer your phone

“yeah, he’s a busy guy.” i smile and nod.

“too busy to meet his girlfriend for coffee?” he takes a slight dig at sam.

you’re worrying me

can you just answer

y/n what the hell answer the phone

“he was going to try. but, yeah, too busy at the moment.” i laugh his insult off.

“you should come back to my place with me! i’ve got the heat on. it’s just down the road.” he suggests.

my phone vibrates on the table. i pick it up and give bryan a sorry look. “that’s him.”

“oh.” he blinks.

“maybe another time. bye, bryan.” i wave and pick up my coffee, and then answer my phone. “hey, baby.”

“can you seriously not answer a text? i was worried about you.” he sounds frantic, but not mad.

i walk out the door of the coffee shop. “i’m sorry. that bryan guy from yesterday was talking to me.”

“talking as in, like, he was actually there?” sam asks.

“yes, he was. don’t start.” i warn him.

“i won’t. can you come to the address i texted you? it’s just a simple ghost case and it’ll be really good to teach you.” he questions.

“yes, i’ll be there.” i agree.

“please don’t ride with bryan.” he emphasizes the word with extra venom.

i scoff, “i won’t.”

79 christopher road.

i show up at the house, and sam is standing outside waiting for me. he smiles, probably because bryan is no where in sight and briefs me about the case. apparently, these people buried their daughter in the backyard, and now she’s haunting them. they went out of town, so its a simple salt and burn.

“now, sometimes when you burn these things, they try to stop you.” he tells me. “so, while i’m doing this, your job is to look out and protect me, okay?”

“right, got it.” i nod as he gives me an iron bar.

it’s already dug up. he coats the body in salt. i don’t watch. then, he drops a match and the body bursts up in flames. it smells very bad.

“sam!” i exclaim as i see an apparition.

“hit it!” he shouts.

i swing the iron rod and it goes fully through the ghost, causing her to disappear. the adrenaline is coursing through my body. i can hear my heart beating so fast that it might jump out of my chest.

“she’ll come back.” he warns.

i swing the rod again, causing her to disappear once more. “she’s angry.”

“we’re killing her. of course she’s angry.” he laughs.

sam just watches as she appears again. he trusts me, and knows what i’m capable of. he knows when he needs to step in, and when i can handle it. right now, he knows i’m able to handle it.

she appears for the third time. i groan and get ready to swing, but she stops mid ‘step’ and bursts into flames. i jump back and watch as she burns and evaporates.

“and, that’s it.” he smiles, high-giving me. “you did really well.”

“this isn’t really a celebration moment, but, just know, i’m excited.” i point out.

he snorts. “right. grab a shovel.”

after reburying the body and leaving the premise as if nothing happened, sam and i take his car back to the motel. my phone buzzes in the car.

did you get where you’re going safely?

‘yeah. i’m good.’

“who are you texting?” sam asks.

“bryan.”

“bryan sure texts you a lot for someone who thinks you have a boyfriend.” he scoffs.

“he’s friendly.” i dismiss him.

that’s good. i’m glad you’re safe.

“what’s he saying?” sam asks.

“wow. in my business, much?” i roll my eyes.

“you’re gonna tell me either way.” he laughs.

i cross my arms. “he was just making sure i got to you safely.”

“oh god!” sam exclaims. “he’s so obsessed with you!”

“he is not!”

“if a guy is making sure you’re safe all the time, it’s because he loves you.” he explains.

“you’re reading too much into it.” i counter.

“i just think it’s weird that he loves you, when to him, you have a boyfriend.” he pushes further.

“last time i checked, you aren’t my actual boyfriend.” i sigh exasperatedly. “so, unless you are, you can’t tell me who i can and can’t text.”

okay, maybe i do wish sam were my actual boyfriend. he’s a sweet guy, and definitely not unattractive. i like him a lot. but, it’s obviously not reciprocated.

‘thank you.’

———————————————

another case, same town, and the same coffee shop. it’s the same temperature, too, so i’m basically freezing down to my bones. i get the same coffee order and text sam.

‘do you think i’ll be able to help you today?’

‘or am i gonna have to be lonely again?’

sorry

this case is kinda extreme.

i’ll try to finish quickly so we can hang out.

‘yes please.’

“why, hey stranger.” someone calls out to me. i look up, and bryan is sitting in front of me.

“hey bryan.” i wave. “are you stalking me?”

he furrows his eyebrows. “this is a very common coffee shop.”

“i know, i-“

“i’m not some kind of weirdo, you know. i’m just a nice guy who offered you a ride and is trying to be friendly.” he defends himself. “i’m also a local here, so i’ve been getting coffee from here for a long time.”

“i’m sorry. i was joking.” i apologize awkwardly.

“oh.” he clears his throat.

“yea.” i nod.

“my bad. are you busy today?” he asks.

“uh, no, actually. my boyfriend’s busy all day so i’m kind of just.. alone.” i explain.

“come to my place!” he suggests.

i sigh, “ummm...”

“c’mon. i thought we already established i wasn’t some weirdo.” he jokes.

“fine, fine.” i laugh.

i hop into the familiar passenger seat. we listen to the radio on the way to his place. i sing along, which he finds funny. i catch him staring at me every now and then. he even missed a green light or two.

my hunter’s instincts go off. sam has trained me to be careful around these kinds of people. he’s obviously not a ghost. if he’s a werewolf, i’m not in any immediate danger because it’s not a full moon. so, maybe he’s a vampire and he’s luring me back to his house to kill me inconspicuously.

we walk into his house. it’s pretty nice. the hardwood floors are almost spotless, and the furniture shows no signs of any stains. i clutch the knife in my pocket.

“make yourself at home. we can watch a movie or something.” he suggests.

“um, yeah. of course.” i nod.

he looks puzzled. “are you nervous or something?”

“i-“

“y/n, we’ve already been over this. i’m not some psychopath that kills people.” he sighs.

“i know, i know.” i deflect. “i think i just had too much coffee.”

“jittery?” he asks.

“yeah.”

my heart beats way too fast. i feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest. it’s not the good type of adrenaline that i enjoy when i’m hunting. it’s not the helpful kind of adrenaline that has saved my life so many times. it’s adrenaline based off pure fear.

with my defeaning heartbeat echoing in my ears, i decide to bite the police. i slice my palm with the knife in my pocket and then bring it out. bryan turns around with a look of concern.

“i, uh, could i have a bandaid or something?” i ask.

“how did you cut your hand?” he asks, confused.

“i have a pocket knife in my pocket.” i half-lie. its not a pocket knife, but...

“you’re so clumsy. follow me.” he beckons.

i follow him into the bathroom. he opens the cabinet and hands me the biggest bandaid i’ve ever seen, with a slight smile on his face. i observe his smile. there’s no fangs in sight. he’s just a normal guy.

“thanks.” i smile back, bandaging myself up.

my phone rings and i pick up. “hello?”

“hey. my case is over. meet me back at the motel?” sam’s voice stings my ears. i miss him.

“of course! yea, i’ll be right there.” i smile.

“okay, bye. stay safe.” i can hear the smile in his voice.

i hang up the phone and turn toward bryan. “i’m sorry to cut this short, i-“

“ditching me to go hang out with your boyfriend again, huh?” he asks bitterly.

“uh, yea. sorry.” i offer him a faux smile.

“at least let me drive you back,” he offers. he grabs his keys off the counter and jingles them.

“actually, i think i’ll just get a cab. thanks for the offer.” i wave at him and grab my coat from the front door.

i feel uneasy. i walk down the street as fast as i can without looking suspicious. now, i realize the severity of the situation. he might not be a creep, but if he is, i am very much in danger.

he has my phone number; he knows where i’m sleeping; he knows i’m alone most of the day; he knows everything and i’ve known him for two days.

but, that’s not anything to worry about. bryan is just a normal guy, right?

right?

——————————————

if you enjoyed, feel free to reblog or comment or something! stay on the lookout for the final part. thanks for reading :)

[seasonsofeverlark]

Spreading Christmas Cheer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Everlark the movie Elf [submitted by @alliswell21​]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21​ It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark. 

Special thanks to @norbertsmom​ for her betaing skill and for the name of the story. Parts 3 and 4 will post separately.

_____________

Pt 1

I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly. 

“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice is soft.

Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la  lista de los niños malos?”   

“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever. 

“Santa,” Holly says.

Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.    

“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”

Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.

“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”

“Night, mama, night papa,” Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep. 

Together we walk out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.

“Okay, spill it, Mellark.”

He gives me a wide eyed smile.

The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight. 

He’s got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story. 

“No.”

Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.

“No.”

“Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum,” Peeta says in an excited whisper.

“No…no don’t waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark.” I pronounce each one of his names.

Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.

He grabs me by the waist. “You know you wanna,” he says in that sexy time voice of his that’s reserved only for me. 

Canasto! 

I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach. 

I digress.

I let out a big sigh. There’s no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!

“I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“ 

"You’re an evil gremlin,” I say with no heat in my voice. It’s my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.  

Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.

Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It’s baby number 2; actually it’s baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they’re born. I know what he’s doing, the evil gremlin! He’s trying to distract me because I’m due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.

He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”

“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.

“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.

“Once upon a time.”

“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me. 

It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.  

“I love my family,” I muttered underneath my breath. 

I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas."  

Did I forget to mention that I love my family?   

I do. I love my family and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.  

My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.

The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas. 

I loathed Christmas.

I was not ashamed to say it.  Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas!   If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I’d have hunted him down, and burned the fat man’s jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.

At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.

There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes.  It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting Botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug. 

My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself on to my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring. 

But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad’s name and the next one born would take our mothers name. 

They didn’t have family, and her parents lived a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc. There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.

After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes. 

So you can see why I’m so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me. 

No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.

So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.

"Katniss,” Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”

I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”

“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks. 

My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”

Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”

I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Henderson's were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”

Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.

“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”

My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”

“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name. 

“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn’t I told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me. 

“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen. 

I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses were criminals. 

Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”

“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”

  Pt 2 

Peeta grins excitedly, breaking the narration. “You know she’s right. Papa says the cookie elves have high insurance premiums because their tree catches fire all of the time.” 

“Peeta,” I huff. “Do you want me to finish the story?” 

“Absolutely,” he hugs me closer. “I’m so sad you and Prim never got to grow up at the North Pole with me.”

I can’t help but smile at his sincere wish. “Oh Peeta,” I kiss his cheek.

“The only thing I would never let you do was toy testing,” Peeta whispers.

I chuckled. Peeta hated Jack-In-The-Box’s. They scare the dickens out of him. I lay my head on his shoulders. “Are you going to let me finish the story?”

“You know,” he says, blue eyes twinkling. “I’d spotted you in the city that first day.” 

“You were jumping across the lines of the cross walk, “ I grin at the memory. 

“I followed you until I saw the Empire State Building. Then I went to see my father.”

“I know,” I caress his face.

“Start from that point.”

“Okay, you ready now.” My babies were moving in my belly.

“Right, you were in your father’s office delivering the most awkward Christmas gram.” 

Peeta chuckles. “I don’t have your pretty voice.”

I sigh. “Peeta.”

“Right, I’ll be quiet.”

I give him a look. 

“But just so you know, when those guards told me to go back to Macy’s, I was curious as to why you were dressed as an elf.“

I roll my eyes. Did I forget to mention my husband is a talker. He is a chatterbox. I swear Peeta is the type who’d make friends with a paper bag.

"I thought your elf name was so pretty,” he sighs happily.

“Peeta, if you want me to tell the story. You have to hush!” I admonish, if I didn’t we would be here until tomorrow.

“Oh,” he gushes. “Yes, tell the story.” 

“So, there I was in the middle of New York, like a morsel in shark infested waters. I.E….”

“That passion fruit spray is horrible,” Peeta grumbles. “I do not know how women drink that stuff.” 

I want to laugh. There are still things that Peeta doesn’t understand about human society; perfume was one of them, and that fact endeared him to me.

“Can you start at the moment our eyes met?” Peeta gives me a wobbly smile. 

Ah, now I know why he’s interrupting so much. “Okay.”

Sighing I recall that day. Prim and I were out to breakfast. She was harping on me to find someone. Did I fall to mention Primrose was only twenty years old at the time, and at that age I was ancient at the tender age of twenty six. Seriously twenty-six. So what if I had never dated, never had a boyfriend, and never kissed anyone. My sister was right. I was a prude, but I’d seen how love could screw you over. My mom never recovered and she died alone in some home of a broken heart. All I had in the world was my sister. My Prim, and she was the only person I would love. Until that afternoon. 

“Seriously Katniss, you’re twenty-six,” Prim said. 

Eye rolling was a national pastime when speaking to a glamazon who thought I needed to date.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Prim said, removing my sunglasses. “And also, sunglasses in the middle of December, so not tre chique.” 

Eye roll, eye roll, eye roll. Fake smile. CANASTO!

“You are the worst,” Prim hissed.

I knew my sister wasn’t mad at me. Annoyed, yes. Mad, no. “Prim, it’s just I’m not interested in dating anyone.” 

“Katniss, I just don’t want you to impersonate elves for the rest of your life, and when you’re like forty-six, you’ll realize you’re alone with a cat, who pisses in your shoes, and scratches your furniture.” 

I moved to pay our bill.

“No way,” Prim said, slamming her hand on the bill. “I make what you make in a month in two hours of work. This is on me.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

“Also, stop closing yourself to Christmas. Santa isn’t going to leave you anything under the tree.”

“Like Santa exists,” I snorted.

Prim gasped. “You take that back. Santa Claus is real Katniss, just like the rainbows, and pigs and frogs having a long term, caring relationship, and love exists.” 

My sister’s wide eyed passionate confession shook me, but the only words that came out of my mouth were, “a frog and a pig?” 

“Miss Piggy and Kermit are together, and if they can make it, no matter what the media says, anything is possible.”

“Huh,” I said, leaving the luncheonette near Penn Station. We walked to the corner, where she’d take the stairs to the lower level. 

I took a look at the stairs, knowing this was the moment I would say goodbye to my sister once again. My eyes filled with unwanted tears. I could still recall the little girl with the untucked shirt that looked like a duck tail. It’s where the nickname li’l duck came from.

“Don’t cry,” Prim whispered. “Quack, quack.”

“I hate it when we have to say goodbye,” I said quietly.

“It’s not goodbye, Katniss; it’s until the next time.” Prim grinned then she took my elf hat and put it on my head. “Go on, terrify the poor children of the city with your menacing scowl. But you better watch out, better not cry.”

I groaned. “Prim, I would rather hear seagulls squawking then you singing.” 

“I know, that’s why I do it,” Prim said.

“You’re a brat.”

“Brat, I’m on Santa’s nice list. You’re the one on the naughty list.”

“There’s no such thing as Santa…” the words died on my lips as I saw a huge man dressed in an elaborate elf outfit jumping on the lines of the crosswalk gleefully. I was struck by the joy on his face.

He looked like an angel with wavy blond hair and innocent blue eyes. It was one thing to see a six-year-old child with that wide eyed innocence, but a tall, broad shouldered man with large hands made me think perhaps he’d escaped his caretakers. His elf outfit wasn’t like the cheap one I had to wear. It was made from a rich fabric with elaborately embroidered gold thread. 

If there was something I knew about, it was fabric. I never had soft fabrics growing up and I was obsessed over soft materials. I dreamed of cashmere, Egyptian cotton, mulberry silks, and linens. His green tunic was made from merino wool, like the ones they made in England in those bespoke shops.  Even his hat, although a ridiculous cone shape, was not some cheap fabric covered cardboard that you’d find in a costume shop. It was made from genuine thick green wool felt with a yellow satin ribbon wrapped around it. A red feather bobbed up and down as he jumped.

He was so happy. He looked up, as if sensing my presence. Our eyes met and he smiled jovially and waved at me. My mouth went dry, because, gaw, Canasto!

This man-child was gorgeous. 

“Earth to Katniss.” Prim snapped her fingers in my face.

“Sorry.” I looked back to my sister.

Prim looked over her shoulder. “Are you okay.”

I dipped out of my sister’s way. “I think I saw an elf.”

Prim laughed. “It’s Christmas, Katniss. Santa’s elves are everywhere.” Prim gave me a hug before descending the stairs to the lower level of the station. 

Seeing my sister go was difficult, but I couldn’t shake the tall man dressed as an elf. He even had on yellow tights with black elf shoes. 

I made my way to Macy’s. I could see the Empire State building in the background as I took a left to head to the employee’s entrance. 

When I arrived, the floor manager Brutus headed straight to me. He was a ridiculous man with muscles in his neck and a bald head. His meaty fingers held a tiny clipboard. 

Brutus did not believe in technology. He refused to use a tablet. He said the muckety-mucks, as he called them, were out to get him. He wore dark brown pants that were too small for his large frame and even when he stood you could see his white socks. He wore a sweater vest with various pens in his front pocket and a cheap plastic necklace that was supposed to look like tree lights.  

“Jovie,” Brutus said looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, Brutus,” I smiled. Jovie was my elf name.

“Our last Santa quit, and we have no one, so until then I need you to help out in gift wrapping. Don’t forget to make sure the ribbon curl is six inches.”

“But you need more than six inches, to make a good curl.”

“Six inches.”

Sighing I walked to the station and nodded to the girls who were at the gift-wrapping station. I sat there trying to make six inch curls. People were insane at Christmas; they were stressed out to buy things, and things never made anyone happy. Things were just things.  

The line of people got shorter and I noticed the tree in the center of the sales floor was looking a little sad. So getting the ladder, I rearranged the ornaments and noticed one of the lights was out. From this vantage point I saw Brutus drag him in, the elf I saw on the street.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I focused on the tree, eavesdropping the entire time. 

“Buddy, you need to remember you get a half-hour break when you work under six hours and a one hour break when you work over six hours. If I catch you on the floor again I’ll have to write you up.” 

His name was Buddy. My lips formed a goofy smile at his name. Up close he was prettier, his wavy hair curled up at the ends. A shiver ran up my spine at all of those curls. I could picture little boys with blond ringlets and a little girl with dark tresses in green colored elf clothing. I held on to the ladder as I swayed. 

“Wow, what’s this?” HIs eyes quickly darted to the crowded sales floor. 

“This is the north pole,” Brutus said looking at his precious clipboard.

“No it’s not,” Buddy waved at a pair of babies inside of a stroller. 

“Yes it is,” Brutus said.

“No it’s not,” Buddy eye’s traveled to the tree and I hid behind it so that he didn’t see me.

“Yes it is,” Brutus put his hands on his wide hips.

“No it’s not,” Buddy said smiling. “Where’s the snow?”

“He’s right, there’s no snow,” a six-year old girl said. She’d been listening to the conversation.  

I nearly snorted. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Brutus brows knit together.

“I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite thing,” he said. Bouncing to the Christmas music that was being pumped through the speakers. 

“Well stop smiling, and make work your favorite thing to do. And who gave you that outfit?”

“It’s mine,” Buddy said, splaying those large hands on his chest looking down at his elf outfit. 

Brutus looked at the intricate gold embroidery. “Fine, if that’s your story. You should make work your priority instead of shopping.” Brutus sighed, looking at his clipboard again. “I have to make the announcement.”

Buddy nodded, but once more was looking around. 

I was working on the tree lights by now and really didn’t want to get down because I wanted to keep staring at him. At his great legs. Normally tall guys had spindly legs. Not his, yum. 

“Okay I’ve got an announcement. Santa will be here tomorrow at 10AM. Keep your receipts so you can see Santa.” 

“SANTA!” Buddy yelled. He jumped, clasped his hands and a little girl next to him joined him. Soon there was a flock of kids doing the same thing, all speaking at once and he was nodding and speaking to them as if he knew Santa. 

I chuckled cause I’ve never seen Brutus look so stunned and speechless. He was carried away by Chaff, his second in command. 

Buddy turned and focused on me. I pretended that he wasn’t just a few feet away from me. I could feel his gaze as I fixed the bulb that was not letting the string of lights to turn on. The tree lit up and I swear his eyes seemed to glow brighter than the lights on the tree.

My stomach did a little flip-flop. “What!” I said defensively. I turned and saw how big his eyes were and the genuine smile. “Are you enjoying the view?”

“I love Christmas trees,” he said hesitantly. “It’s nice to see someone else who enjoys elf culture as much as I do.” 

Of course the guy that would make butterflies dance in my stomach was a wackadoo. I scowled. This wasn’t happening. Getting down from the tree, I quickly walk away, grabbing a few stuffed animals that were discarded and putting them back on the display.

“Looks like someone needs Christmas cheer and the best way to do it is to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” I muttered.

“Of course you can.” He chased after me.

“No,” I said trying to get him to stop, but liking that he’s walking after me like a wide eyed puppy-dog.

“Anyone can. All you have to do is put a group of words together in a tune,” he said sweetly.

I hopped on up on the stage where the guy in the red suit would be seated tomorrow. I turned to look at him. As I spoke to him, I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. Because the last time I sang a Christmas song it was with my dad, hours before he died.  “I know that, I can sing, but I choose not to sing.”

“Look, I’ll do it for you maybe it will make you smile,” Buddy said. He takes a deep breath, “I”M SINGING. I’M IN A STORE AND I AM…”

It was horrible, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

“THERE’S NO SINGING IN THE NORTH POLE!” Brutus comes running out from behind the registrar.

“Yes there is,” Buddy says grinning at me. “I’m Peeta.”

“Wait I thought your name was Buddy?”

“That’s my middle name,” Peeta said. “Is Jovie your name?”

“No,” my voice sounds breathy. “Jovie is my elf name.”

“So what’s your real name?” His voice sounded deeper and I swear I could see nothing else but his big blue eyes tenderly gazing at me.

“Katniss,” I said, wondering why my knees were so wobbly. I couldn’t fall for a guy who thought he was an elf. A very good looking, broad shouldered guy with the face of an angel, but nonetheless, a complete wakadoo.    

The ten minute warning came on letting people know they needed to go home.

“Oh I’ve got to get ready for Santa,” Peeta muttered under his breath. But before he could move Brutus appears. 

“Buddy,” Brutus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away. I was left standing on that stage with a big old goofy grin on my face.