#baby bread can be adult toast at times

[moonchild9350]

Definitely worth the wait 😊

Soft dom Innie just does things to me omg and to follow it up with the sweet and caring Innie? Absolute perfection!

waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.

The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)

It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.

If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.

The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.

Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).

From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.

The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.

“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.

As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.

The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.

Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.

“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.

“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.

Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.

You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.

“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”

You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.

Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.

“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”

The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.

“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.

The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.

You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.

Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.

“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.

He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.

Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.

“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.

“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.

It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.

Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.

When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.

“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.

“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.

“Sorry, not sorry,”

“You are such a brat,”

“Guilty!”

You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.

“Let’s go dance baby bread,”

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waiting for us taglist (50/50) @abbiestearsricochet @boo-ven9eance @adorawritesalot @inlovewithallmusic @alnex05

@borahae-reads @zonked-times @loverlixie @katsukis1wife @0325tiny

@adestayskz @minhwa @littleaprilcherryblossom @soobery @lillithathecat

@everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @popcatx0 @stayinhellevator @jaiuneamesolitaiire

@enchantedgrunge @corrodedthorn @143lix @ashitshowforalot @lynlyndoll

@txtandroll @kawennote09 @liknws @ritzy-dream-boy @vampcharxter

@puppy-minnie @freckleboilix @turtledove824 @fylithia @jutdwaekkigym

@hyunestrella @blackrowses @chlodavids  @reallysparklychaos @sunnibearr

@chili-crab0811 @stickycrusadecollective @lucidliving1205 @princelingperfect @leemidnightmoon

@shakalakaboomboo @nykto-philia @mixtape-racha @lovestayforev @the-simpy-simp

[sesamestreep]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9

Write about a heated debate (from this list) ➸ set in the Bakeoff AU AGAIN, because after my last fic, I wanted to write more Milly content and also it’s been a rough few days and I need to be silly and self-indulgent or I shall perish!! Based on an Instagram Reel I sent to @firstelevens the other day and that we’ve been spinning into a kid fic concept ever since. It grew out of control and I don’t know if it technically fits the prompt, but it’s what I got for you nonetheless. Bon appetit I guess???

“Euuuugghhh! Daaaaad!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Foggy asks from his spot in the kitchen. That tone of voice from his daughter is never a good sign, but he’s mostly used to hearing it when he and Matt are being particularly disgusting about how much they love each other. As Matt is still in the shower currently, he knows that can’t be the reason.

“What did you put on this?” Milly asks, holding up a piece of toast accusatorially. If she ends up following in their career footsteps someday, her cross-examinations are going to be brutal.

“Cinnamon and sugar, as requested,” Foggy answers, coming to stand across the counter from her. It’s a long way from the elaborate recipes he used to make with his spare time—which he no longer has—and when he was on Bake-Off, but it’s one of his daughter’s favorite breakfasts despite its simplicity. Well, it normally is. She’s currently staring daggers at him, so it must not be her favorite right now.

Milly shakes her head at him, like he’s a moron or maybe, more accurately, like they’re going to have to send him to a home soon if he keeps this up. “Not cinnamon,” she says, holding the offensive piece of toast out to him.

Before he can take a bite (his original plan, to illustrate that she’s being silly and unnecessarily picky), the smell reaches his nose and it doesn’t take an extremely experienced baker to know that’s not cinnamon. He brings it closer to sniff it again and makes himself cough. To confirm his suspicion, he returns to the cabinet where they store their spices and looks at the jar he used to make Milly’s toast a few minutes ago and, yep, there it is.

“Paprika,” he says. “I made you paprika toast.”

“Paprika and sugar,” Milly says, in that same enjoy your time in the retirement home, old man tone of voice.

“They look similar in the bottle,” Foggy says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Same color, I mean.”

“Do they smell the same?” she asks, innocently.

“Listen, you—”

“And are they spelled the same way?” she asks, thoughtfully. “You know, when you read the bottle before pouring it over my toast? You did read the bottle first, right?”

“Mills, I’m not kidding, if you can spell ‘paprika’ or ‘cinnamon’ for me right now, I will give you twenty dollars out of my wallet,” he says. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it!”

“I don’t know—”

“Exactly!”

“I’m eight! What’s your excuse?”

“For one thing, my eight year old daughter won’t stop tricking her babysitter into letting her watch scary movies and then crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep,” Foggy says, grabbing the plate from her. “How’s that?”

“Don’t throw it away!” Milly calls.

Foggy pauses. “Baby, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll make you more with actual cinnamon.”

Milly looks at him like he’s grown an extra head. “I know,” she says, slowly. “I just wanted to show Dada what you did.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and returning the plate. “Just for that, maybe I won’t make you more toast.”

“Sure, starve me for telling the truth. That’ll go over great with the other trusted adults in my life when I snitch on you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court,” Foggy replies, already putting two more slices of bread into the toaster.

“Besides,” she says, ignoring him and popping a sliced strawberry into her mouth. “I don’t crawl into your bed, I crawl into Dada’s.”

“It’s the same bed,” he explains. “Just because you cuddle with Dada and kick me all night doesn’t make it any less my bed. And what’s up with that, anyway? I have it on good authority that I’m the more cuddly of the two of us. Why don’t you ever snuggle me?”

“You want it too bad,” she says, taking a two-handed drink of her orange juice.

“Devil child,” he mutters. His mother once told him, when he and Matt were first looking into adoption, that your children will act as cosmic comeuppance for all the things you put your poor parents through as a child yourself and he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he just thought that, because Milly didn’t share any DNA with them, that his and Matt’s most exhausting qualities wouldn’t rear their ugly heads in her at all. And, boy, love her as he does, he was wrong on that count.

“Dada would never do this to me,” Milly continues, happily. “And he can’t even see! Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“About looking into boarding schools?” Foggy asks. “Definitely.”

“Mean!”

“You’re saying you’d miss me?”

“No,” Milly says, crossing her arms. “But I’d miss Dada and my friends and my teachers and Aunt Daisy and—ooh, can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to text Aunt Daisy a picture of the paprika toast.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnnn,” she whines. “She’ll think it’s funny!”

“That’s exactly why I’m not giving you my phone.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly grumbles, sinking down to rest her chin on the counter dejectedly. Her head immediately pops up again when Matt appears behind her. “Dada! Wait til you see what your husband did!”

Matt stops to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Please don’t say your hair because it feels…uh, chaotic?”

“I haven’t even gone near it this morning,” Foggy says, as he fetches the toast that’s just popped out of the toaster. “That’s all natural.”

“Well, that’s something,” Matt replies, coming into the kitchen. “So, what did you do?”

“He made me cinnamon toast,” Milly interrupts, enthusiastically. “Here, try it!”

As with Foggy, the toast doesn’t even make it to Matt’s mouth before he’s frowning. “That’s…not cinnamon, honey.”

Milly cackles while Foggy glares at her. “I made a small mistake,” Foggy says, over the chorus of his daughter’s laughter.

“What is that? Chili powder?” Matt asks, sniffing delicately.

“Paprika.”

“Oh.”

“And I have been soundly roasted for my error,” Foggy says, mostly in Milly’s direction. “So, I don’t want to hear it from you, okay?”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

“Apparently, you would never make such a mistake in your life, because you’re a good dad and I’m some sort of rodeo clown who ended up here by mistake.”

Matt looks at him, very clearly stifling a laugh. “She only thinks that because she’s led a charmed life where I almost never make her breakfast,” he says. “Give it a week, she’ll be begging for you back.”

“You’d just let me eat fruit snacks for breakfast,” Milly says, as Foggy puts her new breakfast down in front of her.

“Yes, and then you wouldn’t have all the nutrients you need to learn new things at school and get smart enough to become the first female president of the United States,” Foggy says. “And then where would we be?”

“There better be a female president before I’m old enough,” Milly says, darkly and with a mouth full of toast.

“Better eat a balanced breakfast just to be safe,” Matt says, pushing off the counter to go find some coffee. “And be nice to your dad.”

“How will that help me become President?”

“People skills,” Matt says.

“Surviving into adulthood,” Foggy says, at the same time.

Milly blows a raspberry at him, but eats the new toast without complaint. Matt’s scouting around for the sugar bowl now and Foggy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“I already put sugar in it for you,” he says.

Matt smiles. “I don’t care what Milly says. You’re the best rodeo clown a kid could hope for, and a very good husband too.”

“Thanks,” Foggy replies, and allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. He gets to enjoy that for about ten seconds before Milly makes another disgusted noise behind him. He sighs and pulls back. “What’s wrong with the toast now?”

“Nothing,” Milly exclaims. “It’s you two that are grossing me out!”

“Sorry your dads are in love with each other,” Matt says, with a smile and a faint blush. “You live a tough life.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Milly says, as she shoves an improbably large bite of her toast into her mouth without issue. She’s not even finished chewing when she asks, “Will you walk me to school today, Dada?”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do that wrong too?” Foggy asks, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“I’d be happy to, baby,” Matt interjects before Milly can say something smart-alecky back to him. “Go get dressed, okay?”

Mill hops down from her chair happily and practically skips to her room. Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his nose.

“What’s up with you two?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Successfully,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, well,” Foggy shrugs. “I slept half the night with her foot in my face while she cuddled with you. I’m a little cranky, I guess.”

“Feeling left out?” Matt asks, smiling, as he turns to wrap his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“I’m definitely the cuddliest person in this household and I want it acknowledged.”

“I agree,” Matt says, kissing him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to Milly. She’s a maniac.”

“She takes after you.”

“Not true. I love to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss him again.

“We could make that happen, you know,” Foggy says against his lips. “Drop the kid off at school, cancel our appointments for today, play hooky from our responsibilities, stay in bed all day…”

Matt seems to be thinking it over, tempted. “We couldn’t,” he says, not quite convincingly.

“We could. I know our bosses and, trust me, they’d want us to get laid.”

“I’ve said it before but those guys are weird,” Matt jokes. “They’re honestly too involved in our sex lives.”

“Yeah, it’s an HR nightmare,” Foggy replies, kissing him again.

“You two better not still be kissing when I come back,” Milly hollers from the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth (or so Foggy guesses from the sound of running water).

“We definitely will be,” Foggy shouts back, as Matt collapses into his shoulder laughing.

“I’m going to go attempt to get our daughter’s hair fit for public appearance,” Matt says, giving Foggy another quick kiss on the lips.

“And I’m going to text Kate that we’ll be in late this morning.”

Matt pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Foggy consults his watch. “Our first appointment is at 11. I can do plenty to you in that amount of time.”

Matt looks a little startled by that, but not in a bad way. “Kate’s going to know what that text means, you know.”

“That just means there will be someone to share in Milly’s pain over us being disgustingly in love after all these years. Unless that’s your way of saying no?”

“Definitely not. Just warning you that we’ll get a lot of grief for it later.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You always do,” Matt replies, and Foggy’s definitely not being conceited when he says Matt’s tone sounds downright dreamy.

He heads off to help Milly finish getting ready and Foggy tackles the few dishes in the sink while he waits for another pot of coffee to finish brewing. A few minutes later, Milly appears in the kitchen, dressed and with her hair pulled into a neat bun. Neither of them can do anything particularly fancy with her hair, not least because she won’t sit still long enough for all that, but Matt does a good job for someone who’s never had long hair or siblings. A now presentable Milly pulls her backpack and coat off the hook on the wall and stops by Foggy’s side expectantly.

“What do you need, kiddo?” he asks, as he dries his hands on the towel hanging by the stove.

“Hug goodbye,” she says, lifting her arms towards him and he kneels to capture her in a big hug.

When she finally pulls back, she still looks hesitant, like there’s something she needs to ask him. It once again strikes him as crazy how much she reminds him of Matt sometimes.

“What’s the matter?” Foggy asks, tucking a picturesque loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel alright? Is all that paprika I fed you bothering your stomach?”

Milly shakes her head, looking away. “I just wanted to—Dada said that his dad would have made him eat that gross toast because they never wasted food when he was little.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, already making a mental note to kick Matt’s ass when they’re alone together. “Listen, baby, your Grandpa Jack, he…didn’t have a lot of help when your Dada was young. They had to be really careful with their money and Dada was in the hospital for a while…”

“I know,” Milly says, nodding. “I’m just—thank you for making me new toast, instead.”

Foggy feels a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow past. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me for that, okay? It’s my job to make your life as good as it possibly can be. Even if I have to make you a hundred pieces of toast every morning.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Still,” Foggy says, firmly. “I’m sorry if what Dada said made you upset.”

Milly scrunches up her face like she’s eating the paprika toast all over again. “He said it like it was funny,” she says, mildly horrified.

“God, okay,” Foggy replies, running a hand over his face. Matt would consider that a charming anecdote about his father. Speaking of people who are going to need a hug from him… “Don’t worry about that. Just have a good day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Milly says, all concern gone as she hops in place excitedly.

Matt appears around the corner then, pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

“Just gotta get my shoes,” Milly shouts as she zooms off in the direction of the door.

“Alright,” Matt says, as he comes into the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, as he leans in to kiss him goodbye. “Oh, and maybe no more stories about your dad before school, yeah?”

Matt blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve talked about how sometimes the anecdotes from your childhood that you think are charming and scrappy are actually alarming to the people who love you now,” Foggy says, gently.

“Yeah…” Matt says, uncertainly, before his expression clears. “Oh. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, rubbing his back. “I already explained that she can ask for as much food as she wants. Just maybe reinforce that with her on your way to school?”

Matt looks pale and queasy even as he nods. “Right. God, I didn’t—I’m sorry—”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“And you still want to play hooky from work with me, even though I’m the world’s biggest idiot?”

Foggy kisses him on the forehead. “Of course. You’re still a very cute idiot.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, I told Milly it’s my job to make her life as good as possible, and that’s true, but it’s also my job to do that for you. And right now, the best way to make your life better is to take you back to bed and—”

“Ready!” Milly shouts as she skids around the corner. “Are you guys still kissing?! What about my education?”

“She’s right, you know,” Matt says, pulling back and looking a bit better, though still tremulous. “We’re terrible parents.”

“Maybe I should look into boarding schools, after all,” Foggy jokes, crossing his eyes goofily at Milly over Matt’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to be President at this rate,” Milly laments.

“Alright, let’s get you to school,” Matt says, holding out his hand for her.

Foggy leans down to give Milly a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t let your dad walk into traffic, okay?”

“I won’t,” Milly says, swinging their joined hands between them. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl. Have a good day, baby cakes.”

“You too, daddy cakes.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt says, smiling at the two of them.

“I’ll be here,” Foggy replies, as suggestively as he can manage. It must work because Milly snarls in disgust.

“If you two start kissing again, I’m taking myself to school,” she says, leveraging her full weight against Matt to drag him towards the door. “Or running off to join the circus. You won’t know which until it’s too late.”

“She gets that from you,” Matt says, tiredly.

“I was going to say I think she gets it from you.”

“Maybe she has a point about us being gross.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Foggy says, with a wink at Milly, who’s glaring at both of them now. “There was never any debate about that.”

[dizzzydancin]

Step On Me- A John Dory-centric Fanfic

Life isn't always easy having to care for your younger siblings; John Dory can attest to that.

(to be frank I never post on tumblr and never had a tumblr account before this, so i hope someone enjoys this :3 you can also read this on Ao3 if you prefer)

Are You Satisfied? - Chapter 1

Don't want to be a fool for you

Just another player in your game for two

You may hate me but it ain't no lie

Baby bye bye bye

A heavy hand reaches out from under the several blankets stacked upon one another, searching the nightstand for a yellow and pink, fuzzy, little bug that blares pop music at an ungodly loud volume at eight A.M. every morning. Once the hand feels his hand brush up against the fuzzy little bug, he boops its little nose, making it close its mouth and go quiet.

Yanking one of the blankets from over his face, John Dory (the oldest brother of five at age 25) rolls out of bed and slides his feet into the pink bunny slippers that he received as a joke gift for Christmas the year prior, but saw no reason to throw out perfectly good slippers, so he ultimately kept them.

With a loud yawn and a stretch that caused several pops to sound from his aching joints. Despite only being 25, John felt as if he woke up 80 years old today. Taking care of your younger siblings can do a number on you, believe it or not.

The pod is eerily quiet. It almost makes John feel uneasy; he's so used to the loud and chaotic nature of living with his siblings that the pod feels odd with his brothers all fast asleep in their rooms.

The pod itself wasn't very big in retrospect. Since he was the oldest, John got his own room. The next brothers in line, those being Bruce and Clay, shared a decently sized room just down the hall from John's room. Of course, the youngest two, Floyd and Branch, shared a room as well, but it was quite a bit smaller. It could probably pass off as a closet, and the two boys shared a bunk bed so that there would be no floor space at all.

It's not like John chose to live in such a place. The only reason he's still here is because it was his grandma's old pod before the incident. Though, back then his grandma didn't exactly know she was going to have to raise her daughter’s kids by herself.

That's all in the past though. Every adult figure John had ever looked up to in his life was gone now, and he had to strap in to take care of his siblings who were teenagers now.

Putting all those thoughts aside, JD makes his way into the pod’s kitchen to start throwing together breakfast for his brothers who need to be up by 8:30. They're on a strict schedule and John does his best to not break that schedule for the sake of Clay, who needs that structure in his life. It doesn't bother John most of the time, he just gets so tired of having to get up early in the morning.

With the clock constantly ticking away, JD finally starts getting to work making breakfast.

John pops two pieces of bread into the toaster at a time, and while that's toasting, he gets to work scrambling eggs. Breakfast doesn't take very long at all, it usually never does, and soon enough he's got a plate of warm scrambled eggs sitting on the counter, and a stack of toast on a napkin sitting right beside it.

He peers out from around the kitchen wall and shouts to his still-sleeping brothers.

“Munchkins, let's go! Come get it now or you'll miss it!”

Almost immediately he hears shuffling coming from inside the bedrooms, and as per usual, Clay is the first one to leave his shared room and come into the kitchen. The poor kid is rubbing their eyes and has some serious bedhead going on, but his hair usually looks like that.

“Morning, bro. Looks like you slept well!” John laughs, which earns a deadpan look from Clay.

“Sure, if I didn't have to listen to Bruce’s obnoxious snoring. I swear I saw the lamp shaking!” Clay huffs as he makes his way over to the counter to grab a plate and fill it up for breakfast.

John can't help but laugh some more at their complaining.

The next two to wake up were Bruce and Floyd if the yelling of, “damnit, Floyd!" and some banging on a door was anything to go by.

When John peaks around the corner, he sees Bruce hit the door one more time before groaning and dragging his feet into the kitchen.

“What's got your hair in a knot?" John teases, only to get a nasty look from Bruce. Man, those are popular today.

“Floyd ran into the bathroom before I could. He's going to be in there for like 20 minutes!" Bruce complains, only to get a, "No I'm not!” from Floyd behind the closed bathroom door.

Bruce rolls his eyes as he walks over to the cooler and grabs a jar full of strawberry jam for his toast.

The last one to pull themselves out of bed was Branch, who was wearing his boyfriend's hoodie and yawning so loud the neighbors could probably hear him. He walks straight past all of his brothers and straight to the scrambled eggs, where he helps himself to a sizable portion before taking a seat at the table and digging in.

“Well good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” John jokes, ruffling Branch’s hair which only earns him a sigh through the nose in response. Finally, one of his brothers doesn't give him sass so early in the morning!

While the rest of his brothers are making their plates and sitting down to eat, John manages to snag a piece of toast for himself and bites into it with a satisfying crunch. He usually lets his brothers get their tummies full before he eats anything at all, but most of the time he can get a little breakfast in for himself and not have to worry about leftovers.

Once everyone is sat at the table, besides Floyd, of course, JD slides in his chair and watches everyone enjoy their breakfast for a moment, feeling accomplished as their caretaker. That doesn't last long, however, because he needs to check in on everyone.

John clears his throat to get everyone's attention. “Alright, boys. What are the plans for today?"

As if on cue, Floyd walks into the kitchen in a white robe, a green face mask covering most of his face. It makes everyone stare, and Floyd throws his hands up in defense.

"I got hungry! This face mask is taking forever to dry.” He complains as he grabs two pieces of toast, slathering both of them in butter and peach jelly.

“You look like you're covered in slime." Branch comments.

“Yeah? At least I'll have glowing skin by the time I'm 40!" Floyd argues.

“Okay, okay! I asked a question, I'd appreciate it if everyone answered me." John interrupts.

"Sure, nosey.” Bruce scoffs, making Clay snort beside him.

“Ha ha, very funny." John laughs sarcastically, “I'm being serious though."

“Sounds stalkerish." Bruce rolls his eyes. “Just going out with some friends, that's all. Got invited to play Squish Ball, so I'll be out late.”

John takes note of that. Clay is the next to speak up.

"I'm going with Viva to the library. They just got a new shipment of classics and I wanna check them out.” Clay puts his plate in the sink, before heading off back to his room to get dressed.

“Don't stay out too late, and tell Viva I said hi!" John shouts back. “What about you, Branch? Going to see your boyfriend?" John teases, dragging out the ‘y’, only to get a piece of toast chucked at his head.

"Yeah, and what of it?” Branch sasses before standing up.

"Nothing!” JD laughs. "Stay safe, okay?”

Branch only rolls his eyes in response. That only leaves Floyd, who's quietly eating his toast behind the counter.

As an asshole older brother, John Dory walks over and pokes Floyd in the side as he walks past, starting to put what was left of breakfast on a plate for himself.

“Don't do that!" Floyd laughs, folding in on himself and holding his side.

JD watches as the now-dried face mask cracks a little on Floyd's face, but doesn't mention it to him. “Got anything going on today?"

Floyd's face drops almost immediately, and it worries John. “No, not today." Floyd just shrugs, immediately losing his appetite and sliding his plate over so John can have what's left of his toast.

Before John can ask what's up with him, Floyd slams the bathroom door shut, going back to his skincare routine and leaving JD looking for answers.

“Damnit." He grumbles, looking over at his nearly empty plate and Floyd's half-piece of peach jelly toast.

There's no use in letting it go to waste, he supposes.

One by one, his brothers leave off to their respective plans for the day. He almost doesn't even get a bye in response, having to remind both Clay and Bruce to say it before they leave.

The only one that doesn't leave is Floyd, who curls up on the top bunk of the bed and strums quietly at his guitar.

John is left alone, mostly by himself, with the quiet strumming of muffled guitar from across the house, and his head full of questions.

[thepomegranatewitch]

tu bshvat 5784

Welcome to the new tradition around here, sharing my family's tu bshvat table! Pictures imperfect because we needed to sit and eat!

Image description. Three photos of a table set with a meal, described below. One from overhead, the other two from just over tableheight at two different angles.

The whole table! This is a secondhand dropleaf table that I fixed up a bit with oilcloth, but I'd love to have one of those old country kitchen wooden tables that serve as prep table, dining table, and ad hoc operating table for La Résistance. The kids keep grabbing onto the edge and trying to swing off this, and you can imagine that will one day soon end very poorly.

Since I live an actually not aesthetically cottagecore life, we have nothing but the finest dollar store plain white dishware for us adults, and metal sets for the kids. I haven't finished making all the colour coded napkins, but eagle eyed individuals will notice each blue gingham napkin has a flower embroidered in the corner in each of our colour coding scheme, from top left clockwise that's red, yellow, green, orange. Each setting has a bowl on a plate, a fork and spoon on a blue napkin, and a haggadah with a pomegranate branch on blue circle. Adult settings also have a butter knife and a stemmed port glass, and the kid settings have two small square sticker sheets and a turkish teaglass.

The table has, from top left clockwise, an adult place setting, a fruit plate on glass, a child setting, a red plate with four servings of melanzane alla parmigiana, an adult place setting, a paper packet of parsley seeds, a small glass jar with cardamom pods, a glass bowl of wash water with three star anise floating in it, a gray towel with white stripes, and a child setting. Down the center of the table from left to right is a bowl of fruit and nut studded barley, a bottle of white and a bottle of red wine, a square container with mixed roasted vegetables, a half gallon mason jar with water, a pecan pie with circular pattern, and a plate of homemade thick matzah. Yes, I made matzah because I thought it would be easier than making bread. Yes, my oven hasn't been cleaned in a while and so started smoking. Yes, the smoke alarms went off multiple times. Yes, I did have to stand there facing the street while it rained pumping the side door while all the windows were open to get all the steam and smoke particles out of the air. Holiday adventures with Sahar!

Image description. Four close up shots of foods, described below. All are birds eye except the barley, which is at an angle to show the careful mounding.

the fruit plate! Our minhag is at least twelve tree fruits so we piled most of them on the tasting plate. From the ramekin going clockwise, that's a ramekin of pomegranate arils, a chunk of pomegranate, segmented tangerine slices, dried apricots, almonds, dried figs, golden raisins (the baby calls them 'ravens'), extra-dark chocolate chunks (cacao is a tree fruit, it's what the ancestors would want), a ramekin of pitted kalamata olives, and some dried medjool dates. Bonus: the kids ate the plate remnants as a serve-yourself breakfast the next morning. Always wonderful when a holiday yields some batch cooking and child autonomy.

a pecan pie. We use the King Arthur Flour Old-Fashioned Pecan Pie recipe because corn syrup tastes off to me. The changes we made this time are making a savory not sweet pie crust (my spouse makes it with iced water and vodka), cream instead of milk, toasting the filling nuts just shy of burnt, and cream instead of milk. It worked really well to reduce the sweetness from 'sickening' to 'very.' It's our traditional dessert and we eat it only once a year because it's so sweet. I like laying the pecans flat side up in rings on the top for full coverage and so it looks a little like tree rings.

The washwater bowl. It's just a glass mixing bowl with water, but I dropped in some orange blossom water and floated some star anise to make it pretty, and I liked it. Will have to repeat the anise for pesach, but skip the orange blossom water - the anise completely overpowered it.

The barley. We cooked it plain and then added walnuts, pine nuts, dried cherries, fresh pomegranate, and a lot of olive oil. We didn't salt it, which was fine, because we let the kids salt the eggplant before we roasted it, which was not fine. Together they taste great. For those keeping count, the barley dish rounds out the tree fruits to thirteen, and with the whole-wheat matzah that makes all seven species! Side note on the matzah, keep your eyes peeled around pesach for my recipe. Once I learned how to make it, I'm never going back to store matzah. Mine is delicious and oil rich, and we eat it as a pleasant flatbread, not just the bread of affliction.

Image description. Two photos of amanita mushrooms from overhead angles.

As a final bit, please enjoy these amanita mushrooms from the JCC. The groundskeeper is in a months-long battle with this patch that just keeps coming back. He keeps knocking over all but one so the preschoolers can safely enjoy looking only, and they keep popping up. I'm delighted - I thought these were mythical and didn't realize they grew where I live now!

If you'd like to support my work, you can buy a copy of my tu bshvat haggadah here, and the two tu bshvat stickers here and here.

[bebepac]

Snow Day! ❄

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​​​ prompt # 131 I don’t feel so good will be in bold.

This is also day 25 of @choicesjanuarychallenge2022​​​​ for delivery.  

The Series: Mia’s 🌎 World The Book:  Crossover: TRR x The Freshman Series Pairing:  Mia x Jaiden (TRR MC x M!OC) / Freshman MC (Emily) x Chris Word Count: 1385 Warnings and Ratings:  Profanity and sexual innuendo / Teen

Song Inspiration:  We’ll Be Alright by Travie McCoy.

Original Post: 1/25/22 at 4:47PM EST

A/N: Recently my area has been hit with a lot of snow lately which has one caused us to have inclement weather plans at work, and I had to bring it out with this funny little story, aka poking fun at the south a bit for our insanity we get when snow comes.  I’m a transplant here, so I know what a real snow is. and I know this is far from it.  

Don’t be hating on our baby snow.  But this is truly quite the weather event here in North Carolina!!!!

I will be  also talking about the “Jeep Wave”  which I have found to be a very real thing. In 2019, I had a  Jeep as a rental car for a month while my car was in the body shop getting repairs.   Also the Jeep people to go off roading just because.  

And last but not least the infamous snow day.  Snow Days don’t bring the same splendor to most adults as they did when you were a child.  For me when the weather calls for snow, I get nervous, because of my job in Healthcare, it is very rare that we close.  Snow is not bad to drive on, it’s the Ice, and when things start melting and freezing back up, hitting a patch of black ice can be a scary thing.  So here’s to one of the few snow days I got to enjoy this go round because, I am on vacation.  It was a good feeling not worrying about the already crazy drivers in North Carolina, and then adding snow and ice on top of that.  As mentioned before, a lot of my Mia’s World content, is honestly based off of my college experiences. So even though I’ve made up the names of the characters, most of this is factual.  

Hope you enjoy the Snow Day I talk about here.  

Jaiden laughed as he watched the weather report.

"What's so funny?" Mia asked.

"Two to three inches of snow has North Carolina in a panic?!?! Snowmageddon, are they serious right now?"

"Hey not all of us are used to blizzards, Jai. The world shuts down here when we get snow.  You don’t know what happened during our last really major snow. There are memes because of it now. Google snowmaggedon nc memes.”

Mia took our her phone showing Jaiden a picture.

“That’s a real picture Jai. That’s Glenwood Avenue a few miles away from Crabtree Valley Mall heading towards Brier Creek.”  

“Why is there a car on fire?” 

“Because it’s North Carolina, we don’t do snow here.  And everyone rushes to the store for bread, milk and eggs."

Jaiden continued looking confused.

"Is French toast a winter storm food here or something?"

"No?"

"But then if you lose power, what are you gonna eat? Milk sandwiches and eggs you can’t cook? It doesn't make sense."

Mia thought for a second.

"You're right Jai, it really doesn't make sense."

"Why aren't you setting your alarm?"

"Because class is going to be canceled tomorrow."

"For two inches of snow? Mia, come on!"

Jaiden laughed even harder.

"When I was a kid in New York, walking home from school, I fell through a snow drift and the snow was waist high. Snow was not an excuse to be out of school."

"And I bet you walked ten miles to school all uphill and barefoot too right?"

"Now you sound like my Dad, Mia.  But you’re right.”  He kissed her nose.  “I’m still going to set my alarm though.  You might be wrong.”

Mia wasn’t wrong. The next day class was canceled due to snow.

“Guess we’re going back to sleep for a bit.”  

When they woke up again, it had finally stopped snowing and there was even more on the ground.  

Emily knocked on the door, before she walked in.  

“Are you guys decent?” Emily had her hand over her eyes in case.

“Yes we’re decent, and that was one time, and you didn’t knock. That was your own damn fault.”  

Emily peeked cautiously around her fingers.

“Just making sure I don’t  see your boyfriend’s ass, again. No offense to your ass Jaiden."

Jaiden shrugged his shoulders.

"None taken."

"But I already have a boyfriend that has an ass, that can also be one when he wants to be.”

“Hey I heard that!!!”  Chris screamed from her room.

“There’s a snowball fight at the quad in thirty. Teams of four. Get dressed.”

It didn’t take Jaiden long to get dressed.  Mia however was putting on layer after the layer of clothes.  She had on her jeans, two pairs of socks, boots, two shirts, her winter coat hat, scarf and mittens.

“Mia, it’s not that cold outside.”  Jaiden chuckled.

“Again, Jai, not all of us are used to two degrees, and blizzards.”

“Then I'll keep you warm, my little snow bunny.”  He pulled Mia by her scarf closer to him, kissing her lips softly. Mia melted into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.  

“I feel warmer already.”

“And getting you out of all that later will be like unwrapping a present.”  

His grip tightened on her hips.  

“Jai stop, if you don’t, we’ll miss the snowball fight.”

There were lots of students out on the quad by the time they all got there. And at first, the game was organized.  Teams going against each other and then things just unraveled.  Everyone was just having fun. Throwing snowballs haphazardly with no team goal or winning in mind.  

Snow angels and snowmen were beginning to be built.  

“We could dress our snowman in a layer of your clothes Mia. Promise you’d still be warm.”  

“Not funny Jai.”

“Emily too, she has on eighty five layers of clothes right now.”

“Ohhh you’re so funny Chris. You should try stand-up.”

“I don’t know why we let them pick on us so much, Em.”  

“You know the guys that picked on you in school are the ones that like you.” Chris said, kissing Emily’s cheek.

“Then you boys loooooooooovvveeeee us!”  

“Enough to get you some hot chocolate.”  

“Yessssss! Our heroes!!!!”

After enjoying hot chocolate, Mia thought they were heading back inside.

“Want to go sledding?”  

“On what?  We don’t have sleds.”  

“I have an idea. Come on Chris.  We’ll be back in a few.”  

A few minutes later Jaiden and Chris came back holding two mail baskets each from Jaiden’s work study job in the mail room.

“These will work, and they have handles for us to hold onto.”  

“Well what do you know Mia?  I didn’t think our guys could find it, but they did.”  

“Find what?”

“The thousand and first way to die.  I’m not sliding down a hill in that.”  

“I don’t feel so good.”  Mia shook her head.

“I mean it should work.  I’ll go first and prove it.”

Jaiden the tallest of them all had contorted himself to sit in the mail basket.

Chris gave him a push and Jaiden sailed down the hill screaming.

“Okay that looks like fun, I’m going next.” Emily  screeched, snatching Chris's bin.

Jaiden was running up the hill as Emily started down, unable to control the basket, she was heading right towards him.

"FOUR!!!!!" She screamed, as Jaiden leaped out of the way. Mia and Chris were laughing at the top of the hill.

"She's screaming four like it's golf!!!"

"Your face Jai when you thought she was going to hit you!"

Mia went next squealing in delight down the hill, against her fears.  

"I'm so glad you did this Mia."

"Me too. This was a good idea."

Jaiden kissed her. " You're freezing Mia."

"You're not, come closer."

She pulled him closer to her, and Jaiden gave her a tight hug and rubbed her shoulders and arms to give her more warmth.

"Let's get inside and order pizza and watch some movies."

They all trudged inside into the warm heat, as Mia sat on the bed to order the pizzas.

"Jai, it's a two hour wait for delivery.   I don't want to wait 2 hours for lunch. Let's go to the cafeteria to eat instead, and eat now, I'm hungry."

"No, order the pizzas, we're just gonna go pick it up instead. We'll take Rubi."

"Are you sure about this Jai?"

"Don't I always keep you safe Mia?"

"Yes, even when I am flying down a hill in a mail bin."

"Rubi can get us anywhere."

As they were driving Mia noticed Jai casually wave to people. It took her a few minutes to realize he was only waving to fellow jeep owners.

"Are you waving to just Jeep owners?"

"It's a jeep thing. It's the jeep wave. It's legit."

"I can't with you."

"What?!? it's for real!"

"Okay, if you ever get a jeep you'll notice it too. And you better wave."

"Old Blue will never die. But if she ever does, I'll keep that in mind."

They picked up the pizzas, and the only slide that was experienced was when Jaiden slipped a bit hopping out of Rubi heading into the Pizzeria.

Jaiden drove up on what was the grass and parked his vehicle right outside the dormitory to open the door for Mia.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Curbside drop-off isn't good enough for my lady, in this weather."

"Jaiden Brooks, I am so lucky you're my boyfriend."

"And don't you forget it." He winked and smiled as Mia feigned anger and gently shoved him.

He helped Mia take the pizza and sodas inside, and when Jaiden came back a security guard was standing beside his vehicle.

"You can't park here kid."

"I know, I just wanted to make sure my girlfriend got inside safely. I'm moving now."

Jaiden moved his vehicle back to the student parking lot and headed back to the dorm.

Mia smiled when he walked in.

"Oh thank God FINALLY! She made us all wait for you, before we could dig in."

"Yeah, he drove to get food in Snowmageddon for us. Jai you're totally on my Zombie Apocalypse team."

"Oh my god!  Can you stop stroking his ego already?" Emily laughed, grabbing for pizza.

"As long as she strokes something else later after I unwrap my present."

Mia playfully hit Jaiden's shoulder.

"Why is your mind so dirty Jai!!!!"

"I told you Mia, it's always the good guys you have to worry about."

Later that evening finally alone, and the bathroom door locked, so Emily or Chris couldn't come through, Jaiden and Mia indulged in some well deserved alone time.  

[sepublic]

         I appreciate how King actually likes to be babied and played around with, he just very understandably only likes it when it’s with people he knows. King trusts Luz to be silly with him, the way you’d trust someone to be snarky with you, but not extend that same feeling towards a random stranger.

         It’s about the trust and intimacy, someone that King knows well enough to let them in like that, let them do all that- Because he chooses, and it’s all about his own agency and what he does on his own terms. It helps that King knows that people like Luz and Eda will actually stop and listen to King if he’s legitimately bothered, too.

         I bet King really is afraid of being a laughingstock, just some silly, idiotic child for others to make a joke out of- But again, like with being coddled, he’s fine with a LOT of things actually, so long as he has that basic agency and people are doing things with him, not to him!

         King willingly signs up to make jokes at Grom, and he appreciates it when Luz laughs with him at his intentional bread puns in Really Small Problems, which he goes out of his way to indulge in for his own sake and Luz’s! King happily enjoys making a ‘fool’ of himself with the toast because Luz still respects him, so he can enjoy a lot of things without other people ruining them for him like usual.

         But at the same time, he really is scared of the others laughing at him behind his back, AT King, in Echoes of the Past- King is terrified of not really being considered on his peers’ level, not being taken seriously as a friend but just as a pet and joke that’s purposely excluded, or at best included at an arm’s length out of pity. 

         Luz really does value and appreciate King’s input, she treats him as an equal and expects the same in return, hence her issues with him in Sense and Insensitivity- Luz has actual standards and expectations for King to fulfill as a friend and person, not just some pet, and I bet King really appreciates that.

         Sure, he has to learn how to navigate around Luz as an actual person with equal footing, whom treats King and expects him to behave as a person- But it really is better than being dismissed. Plus, it allows King to really exercise and explore himself as a person with proper interactions, like how some Luz would gladly accept extra ‘work’ in the form of additional clases, because it’s an opportunity for her to actually apply herself in a way she wants to.

         And that’s fitting, because King really is an incredibly precocious child- At his age, he’s actually a VERY fluent and skilled writer, sure he’s not perfect and Piniet dismisses King’s writing on its own, but with Luz’s input? This kid can make an instant knock-out of a bestseller! And that’s at an incredibly young age of eight to ten years old, King is even younger than Gus, yet he’s such a gifted prodigy in his own right, with a lot of need for artistic expression and an outlet for that?

         Plus, King is also pretty emotionally mature for his age, learning to own up to his mistakes- Not perfectly, he definitely stumbles the most of the trio, but as the youngest by a large margin it’s fully understandable. I have to wonder if King’s ‘species’ is able to mentally mature very quickly (especially if you take into account the speculation that he was in that egg for a LONG time), or if he really is just very quick and bright on the uptake.

         Not a lot of people recognize King’s talent and skill, so it feels good for him to be recognized like that for once. And it’s fitting that King initially upholds himself to this mythical standard as someone who was allegedly once a ruler and should be as competent as one- He doesn’t treat himself as a kid but as an adult, and I think it reminds me of kids who want to grow up fast, just so they can be taken seriously.

         It’s not just a result of his genuine confusions and delusions, King WANTS to be treated like an equal, so he’s kind of eager to ‘grow up’, or in this case, be what he always was- So it’s a bit sad that in some ways, King is speedrunning through his childhood and innocence, because he thinks he already lived through that at some point, and just wants to get back to his prior ‘adulthood’… But then it’s sweet to see King get to enjoy being coddled and taken care of by people who still respect and value him, like Luz and Eda.

         And realizing he really IS a kid, while in some ways disappointing- I bet it’s relieving, and I bet it makes King feel a lot better about being coddled, because he really is a kid who just needs some love and affection, he’s not some adult who has to worry about the humiliation of regression, which is… Interesting when you think about how this is reminiscent to Lilith, who is VERY much like King, and is an actual adult who’s regressing a bit. 

         That, or she simply never developed past that point to begin with, it’s just that without a façade and around people she can trust, Lilith is outwardly revealing herself as the kid she stayed stuck and stagnated as for years.

         That’s another fascinating duality between King and Lilith, with one thinking he was an adult who was regressing, only to find out that no, he’s just a child and this is completely normal;

         And the other being a literal adult, but kind of mentally and emotionally being a child who never got to mature and develop her sense of self past that point, thanks to indoctrination. And now she’s openly regressing back to that point, as a coping mechanism, so that hopefully Lilith CAN eventually self-actualize and mature.

         There’s also how King and Lilith expect themselves to be more, with Lilith’s case being interesting in that theoretically, she SHOULD be mature and proper as a full-grown adult, but alas she kind of isn’t.

         And on King’s side, while there is the inner tragedy and hidden sadness to it all, it’s also kind of hilarious that he’s frequently disappointed in himself for literally being the kid he actually is and always was- And if you go by the idea that the Snaggleback and Garlog are juveniles, there’s some added hilarity as well.

         Like, King and the others are just… Little creatures and they cannot CHANGE this. They’re literal babies, they’re just trying their best! And King is expecting himself and others to meet the standards and expectations of full-grown adults!

         But yeah, in the short-term the realization of his youth is painful… But in the long-term, it must be really freeing for King to get to be a kid, completely guilt-free, without fretting over if he’s not being appropriate for his ‘age’ or whatever.

         With characters like Amity expected to be all prim and proper and super ‘mature’, not really given the chance to just be kids and enjoy themselves, and not given the benefit of the doubt that they deserve for that, it’s rather refreshing to see.

         And I hope that Lilith can unlearn that expectation to be ‘better’ and ‘more mature’ that others have had for her, herself included, since she was a kid- Because I bet Lilith agonized over being older than Eda, yet somewhat short for her age (another parallel with King), and not as proficient…

         Even though she’s an adult NOW, honestly Lilith deserves to give herself some slack as well, because she really hasn’t emotionally grown and developed, she was indoctrinated in a way intended to keep her from becoming independent as her own person, and Lilith needs some space and support to grow for real this time. 

         Plus, I doubt she’s ever given herself slack since she was a kid, nor did others except Eda of course, so I hope she can learn to really relax and take it easy on herself, and she already seems to so far, especially with her friendship with Hooty!

[crayonwriting]

The Miya House

(gif credits)

series masterlist

Katsumi rubbed at her eyes as she entered their bright living room. She pulled up her small trolley she left there last night and pushed it around. She was quiet as she took notice of the small houses in the corners of the room. They weren't there last night, she thought to herself.  She noticed a man through one of the windows of the tiny houses. She cautiously approached one of them. Katsumi playfully knocked on it, shaking the small house slightly.

"Come in." The cameraman played along. Katsumi pulled up one of the covers. She smiled at the cameraman and climbed inside. She giggled into the huge camera lens, completely fascinated. She peeked through the window and waved at the other cameraman on the other side. This went on for a few minutes before a muffled crying was heard in one of the rooms. Katsumi immediately got out of the small house and responded to the baby's cry. She looked back at the uncle and told him that it was her brother. "It's Hiroku." "Where is he?" The cameraman asked. Katsumi pointed down their small hallway. She walked down to Hiroku's room.

In the middle of it, was an average-sized inflatable bed, big enough for little Hiroku to rolled around in his sleep. Once he saw his sister standing in the doorway, his crying ceased and he smiled. Katsumi cheered and climbed into Hiroku's bed and played with him. The small room erupted with giggles and laughs from the siblings. Feeling satisfied that her brother is happy and smiling, she rushed back to the living room to get her stuffed bunny, and ran back down the hallway at the end. She pushed open the big door and ran to the side of the big king-sized bed. "Papa, papa. Wake up!" She walked closer and tugged at her father's hand that was dangling over the edge of the bed. "Papa, please." She leaned down and kissed the back of his hands. Just like a fairytale, her kiss successfully roused her father awake. He groaned as he stretched his limbs. He smiled at the sight of his daughter, first thing in the morning. "Did ya sleep well, princess?" He asked her but she didn't respond. She latched at his hand and pulled with all her might. She wanted to show her papa to the people in the living room. "What's the hurry for, sweetheart? Are ya hungry?" His voice was still laced with sleep as he let himself get dragged by his daughter. ** "Hello! I am Katsumi and Hiroku's dad, and setter for the MSBY Black Jackals, Miya Atsumu." He flashed his infamous smile to the camera. ** Atsumu settled Hiroku in his high chair and grabbed a bottle for him to feed on. As Hiroku fed himself, he headed to the kitchen. "Wanna help papa, Katsumi-chan?" He called her over, grabbing two oranges from the kitchen island and a juicer. Katsumi cheered and stood on her step stool so that she could reach the top of the counter. Atsumu cut the oranges in half and handed them to her. "Here ya go. You just have to do this," he placed the cut orange onto the juicer and pressed down. Katsumi swatted his hands away, wanting to do it herself. She pressed down with all her might to get the juices out. Atsumu's heart soared at her daughter's dedication. He let her do her own thing as he started toasting some bread and cutting up some avocado and bell peppers. "Papa, 'm done!" Atsumu cheered her on. He showed her  how to pour the squeezed out juice into the glass. "Good job! Can ya squeeze a few more?" Katsumi did just that. Atsumu owed it all to you for teaching Katsumi how to help out around the house. You did try to let her just be a kid and play around but it was Katsumi herself that really wanted to help, especially when you were in the kitchen. When Atsumu set the cut up vegetables on the counter, Katsumi's eyes perked up. "Papa! Can I give uncle a pepper?" She picked up two yellow bell peppers. Atsumu just nodded. Katsumi skittered out of the kitchen and went to the small house she played in earlier. "Please eat up, uncle." She handed him the pepper which he thanked her for. "My papa made that." She took a bite of the other piece she brought.

She turned to the other small house at the other side of the room and raised that bitten piece of pepper. "My papa made this. It's delicious." She smiled widely, proud. Just then, Atsumu came out from the kitchen, carrying Hiroku in his arms. He feigned shock when he saw his daughter's head poking into the camera man's house. "What are ya doing there, ya little brat?" Katsumi stiffled her laughs with her hands, running towards her father and latching unto one of his legs. He ruffled her hair and told her that it was time to serve breakfast to her mama. Katsumi's whole demeanor brightened even more, as she rushed back down the hallway to her parent's room. It was still dark in there but she can see your silhouette buried between the covers. "Mama, mama! Wake up!" She did her best to get herself on the bed, and when she did, she slapped her small hands on your butt to wake you up. Not long after, Atsumu came inside the room with Hiroku. "Hiroku is here!" He raised the baby and laid him on top of you. "Wake up your mama!" Hiroku flailed but settled himself when he was finally on your back. You groaned softly, rousing yourself to wake. You raised your hand up to signal that you were awake which earned a cheer from Katsumi. She scrambled out of the room to settle herself on the kitchen table, ready to show you the breakfast she helped make. You turned your face to the side and saw Hiroku's drooling face hanging from your back. Atsumu ruffled your hair and placed a lingering kiss on your temple. "Love 'ya, babe. Let's have breakfast." He placed another kiss on your head and went out the room. The silence that followed almost lulled you back to sleep if it wasn't for Hiroku. The infant squirmed and babbled at you to get up. When you didn't budge, he pulled at your hair harshly. That did the trick. "Okay, okay! I'm up!" **

"Uhm, hi." You nervously tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. While in the process, you covered your face briefly with your hand. You've been in the limelight for a few times---being Atsumu's girlfriend, now wife---but you still aren't used to being in front of the cameras. "Don't get shy on us, babe." He sat beside you with your daughter, Katsumi, on his lap. You had Hiroku in your arms who was babbling softly to himself. You gained your composure and faced the camera again. "Hello, my name is Miya Y/N." You glanced down at Hiroku and played with his chubby legs, squeezing them lightly to ease your anxiousness. "I am Katsumi and Hiroku's mom. Nice to meet you all." You gave a small bow. Atsumu looked ar you, proud. One of the staff asked your four-year-old daughter a question from behind the camera. "What is your name?" "Poopoo." This made everyone laugh and giggle. With the adult's reaction, it made Katsumi laugh loudly as she repeated the word. "I am so sorry for that." You apologized with an exasperated laugh. As she was giggling, Hiroku—who was on your lap—reached over to his sister and grabbed at her arms and hands. He almost toppled over but you held him tight and just leaned in a tad bit closer to Katsumi and Atsumu. Katsumi opened up her arms and hugged her brother, giving a soft kiss to his hair. She released him from her hold. All of a sudden, she wanted to get down from her father's lap. "Kastumi-chan, do you have to go now?" You thought that maybe she was telling you she needed to actually go to the toilet when she blurted out the word 'poopoo' on national television. She didn't answer you though. She was focused on the thought of getting down from her father's hold. She leaned forward but something was pulling on her hair. She did it once more and felt another sharp tug. "Wait, wait, wait! Yer hair got stuck, princess. Let me take it out." Atsumu's microphone, which was clipped on his shirt , was now entangled in Katsumi's hair. He held the small piece of plastic in between his fingers as he pulled out his daughter's hair gently. It was a struggle as Katsumi kept shaking her head left and right. She got down on Atsumu's lap and tried to go around. "Katsumi-chan! Hold on! It's still in yer hair!" Atsumu crouched down and followed her small figure to avoid pulling on her hair even more. He had managed to get it out just as Katsumi started circling around the two of you. You gave Atsumu an apologetic smile. ** You switched with Atsumu so now you were holding Katsumi in your lap while Hiroku was on Atsumu's, feeding on a bottle you had packed. Now with a more peaceful

atmosphere, the staff decided to ask Katsumi again. "What is your name?" She smiled and leaned back on your chest. "My name is Katsumi. Nice to meet you." She almost whispered the last part as she waved bashfully at the multiple cameras. "Alright, and what is your brother's name?" Katsumi just copied what the staff said which made you and Atsumu laugh. Hiroku flailed his arms around, seeing his family all laughing and smiling. "No, Katsumi. What's yer brother's name? Tell 'em it's Hiroku. Hi-ro-ku." Atsumu urged Kastumi but to no avail. Hearing his name come out of his father's lips, the young boy squealed in delight and threw the bottle he was suckling on to the floor.  You and Atsumu both leaned down and to get it. Your head bumped against his and you both hissed in pain. So much for a calm interview. ** Entering the kitchen with Hiroku,  Atsumu and Katsumi presented the simple breakfast they had prepared for you. It wasn't much,—just cut up vegetables and apples, toast, butter, jam and orange juice—as this was the extent of Atsumu's cooking skills. It wasn't as extravagant as Osamu's,  but it's made with the same effort and love. When everyone is settled down, your family of four started eating the small yet hearty breakfast. Atsumu fed some mashed avocados to Hiroku. You helped Katsumi put some butter and jam on her own toast. "Katsumi-chan, can ya tell us who made breakfast today?" Atsumu's chest slightly puffed out. Katsumi took a bite of her food and proudly exclaimed that it was her who made breakfast. "Wow! That's so amazing Katsumi! Good job!" You leaned over and kissed her plush cheeks. She beamed at the praise and affection given to her, continuing to eat her breakfast with a smile on her face. Just as you were going to take a bite out of your avocado toast, you felt a soft tapping on your arm. Atsumu had an expectant look on his face as his eyes darted from your face to the toast in your hands. You raised an eyebrow at him. He pointed to your toast then to his open mouth. "What are you doing?" You asked. "Can I have a bite of yer toast?" You eyed him suspiciously before sliding the plate over. "Aww, can ya feed me Y/N? I kinda have my hands full." His arm was placed on the back of Hiroku's high chair and his other hand held a small baby spoon. "'Tsumu." You half-glared at him. You would've fed him instantly if it weren't for the multiple cameras scattered around your house. Your husband knew how you weren't used to being in front of the cameras and was probably doing this on purpose. Atsumu laughed and took a bite of the toast himself. "'Tsumu!" Both of you looked to Katsumi who was starting to giggle. "Atsumu!" "Yes,  princess?" Atsumu raised an eyebrow. "Don't call me that. I'm yer dad. Ya should call me 'papa.'" But the little girl paid no attention to her father. She raised her arms up and shouted in delight, "Miya Atsumu!" The young setter just chuckled. "Papa! Say, 'papa!'" "Miya Atsumu." "Papa." "Miya Atsumu." "Papa!" "Miya Atsumu!" "Papa!" "Miya Atsumooooo!" She burst into a giggling fit which made the rest of you laugh along. ** "Oh, how I met Y/N?" Atsumu chuckled. He looked up at the studio ceiling as he recalled the memory. "Man, that's a good question. Well," he remembered it like it was just last week, "We had a game in France and there was a cafe by the stadium. My brother, Osamu, wanted to taste French breads or something and we happened to go that cafe. Y/N was also a customer on the day we went. Apparently, she and Osamu had already met on the flight to France! And were like, 'What are ya doing here?' It wasn't common to see another Japanese person fly to France on the same day, so they'd become friends." Atsumu crossed his arms against his chest. "And after meeting at the cafe, somehow, she and I became friends as well. We kept in touch. Met back home. Hung out. I thought she was falling for my brother when one day she asked me if I thought about her as more than a friend." Atsumu chuckeld, biting his bottom lip. "That made me

rethink everything and then...," he shook his head, smiling, "It just went perfect from there." He remembers when it was finally revealed to the public that alleged badboy Miya Atsumu of the MSBY Black Jackals is now taken. Sneaky paparazzi photos, various rumors, and an almost break up later, you married your best friend in a private ceremony with just the important people in your lives. "Many twists and turns later, we got Katsumi." He blushed a little. "And then last year, Hiroku was born." ** As Atsumu took Hiroku  to the living rom to play, you carried Katsumi to the kitchen and sat her at the counter. "Okay Katsumi-chan, I have a special task for you today." She giggled in excitement as she put her full attention to you. You felt your back pocket and pulled put a silver coin. " I'm going to give you this," you waved the coin in front of her, "Much money if you help me clean the dishes." Katsumi nodded eagerly and clapped her hands. "I'll help you mama! Katsumi can do it!" Holding out her arms to you, you set her down on the floor and she immediately ran back to the dining table and picked up an empty plate. It was still heavy for her small stature but she walked slowly and carefully before handing it to you. "Thank you Katsumi! But let me carry the dishes to the sink, okay? I don't want you to get hurt." She nodded and stayed near the sink. She pulled out her step tool from the cabinet below it and set it up, waiting for you. The two of you got started with the task at hand, with you doing the washing and your daughter, the drying. She wiped at the plates and glasses carefully and set them to the side. There was only a few items so the both of you managed to finish right away. "I'm done, mama!" She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and can out to the living room. On one of the bookshelves there, she picked up a pink plastic piggy back and ran back to you. She lifted her piggy bank to you with an adorable smile. You thanked her for being such a good daughter for helping with breakfast and cleaning up after. Her eyes widened in amazement at the shiny coin. She inserted it in the slot of the piggy bank, letting out a laugh. "Yum, yum, yum!" She exclaimed, shaking the toy pig. ** You looked at Atsumu with a nervous smile. "Are you sure you can do it, 'Tsumu?" "Of course!" He puffed out his chest, proud. "I'm just... worried." "Are ya worried about me or the kids?" "The kids." You answered without missing a heartbeat. Atsumu feigned offense and just clicked his tongue at you, all with a big grin on his face. "It's just that, he's never been alone with both kids, And we all know how competitive this guy can get. He'll do anything to prove something." Atsumu's jaw slacked in shock, placing his hand on his chest for added dramatics. You rolled your eyes at him—with a smile, of course—and pushed his shoulder. He almost fell off the chair if not for him clasping your hands together. He sat himself upright and kissed the back of your hand, Keeping them intertwined until the end of the interview. ** "So, what are ya gonna do on yer break?" Atsumu asked as he waved a toy dinosaur in front of Hiroku who squealed in delight. You were sat on the carpeted floor as well and Katsumi was behind you on the sofa, playing with your hair. She had a hairbrush beside her along with several colored hairpins and clips. "I'll probably sleep for the first three days." You laughed. " And I'll work undercover as a cameraman. I feel like I need to follow you around. God knows what's gonna happen with you and the kids." "After all these years, I can't believe ya don't trust me with our children." Atsumu clicked his tongue and shook his head. You kicked him lightly in the shin. "You know that's not what I meant." You jutted your bottom lip in a pout. Your husband chuckled to himself before he grabbed your leg and kissed your ankle. ** "I always feel bad, y'know?" He scratched the back of his head. "Being a pro-volleyball player, I'm away for months from time to time. She practically raised

those two kids on her own, without my help. And it just sucks." He breathed in heavily and smiled softly at the interviewer. "I want her to have some time for herself. Let her relax, get a massage, and do the things she's never got to do before." ** You dried your face with a towel and handed it to Katsumi who mimicked your actions.  You brushed your hair away from your eyes. Your daughter handed you a small, candy hair clip which you took gratefully. "Thank you, Katsumi-chan." You booped her nose. You put the clip on your hair, earning a satisfied giggle from her. Crouching down a little, you picked her up and exited the bathroom. You carried her with you to your shared bedroom and got your wallet and your phone. Going back to the living room, you set her down on the sofa as you got your luggage ready. "Got ev'rything ya need?" Atsumu approached you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "Yup." You smiled up at him, I'm all set." You picked up your bag and slung it on your back. You got your cap as well, which was on top of your suitcase and put it on. Atsumu helped you pushed your suitcase to the front door.  You sat down by the genkan and put on your shoes. Nearby, a soft babbling was heard as Hiroku crawled over to where his parents were. Katsumi was following behind, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Sadness was evident on her face and it was obvious how much she was trying her best not to cry. "Say goodbye to mama." Atsumu knelt down and picked up his son, while ushering his daughter closer. You turned to Katsumi with your arms wide open, inviting her to a hug. Your little girl immediately closed the distance between you. She crashed into your body, wounding her small arms around your neck in a tight embrace. You hug her back with as much fervor. Nothing was said between you two. You kissed her check with a loud smack making her giggle at the ticklish feeling. "Aww, don't leave us out." Atsumu wrapped his vacant arm around his small family. He almost feels like crying. As if he sensed his father's distress, Hiroku started crying. Atsumu did his best to comfort him by bouncing him lightly in his arms and rubbing his back. "Do you want me to calm him down?" You were already brushing the soft tufts of hair on Hiroku's head. "If ya do, ya might not just leave anymore. Yer flight is in 2 hours." Atsumu kissed your forehead. "I got this." You smiled worriedly before breathing out a sigh. "Alright," you stood up, "I'm off. I'll call you later." You grabbed the handle of your luggage and just as you opened the door, Atsumu grabbed your shoulder. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Can I have a kiss?" He puckered his lips slightly. You scoffed at the gesture, shaking your head in disbelief. You muttered under your breath how silly he was being but pulled him towards you nonetheless. He shifted Hiroku to his other arm, placing his hand delicately at the back of your neck, he leaned down and kissed your lips. He hummed at the satisfaction of feeling your lips against his. You pulled away after a few seconds but Atsumu was quick to pull you back in. He pressed his lips harder against yours, slightly dipping you in the process. You lost a bit of balance and held onto his shoulder for support. By this time, Hiroku had stopped crying and was now trying to get yours and Atsumu's attention by tapping his hands on your cheeks. Atsumu finally pulled back, pecking your lips one last time before standing back up to his full height. "I love ya." He said with a dopey smile. Your face grew hot and you knew you were blushing but that's just how it always was with Atsumu—the giddy, highschool type of love. "I love you, 'Tsumu." You turned to Hiroku in his arms and rubbed his cheek with your finger. "I love you too, Hiroku." You looked down at your daughter who clung to Atsumu's leg. You crouched down and kissed her forehead. "And of course, I love this little girl right here!" Looking her in the eye, you whispered, "Look after your dad, okay? He's a little troublesome." Katsumi laughed and gave you a

thumbs up. You ruffled her hair. Standing back up, you looked at your family with all the love in the world. You fixed the strap of your bag and headed out the door.

—

A/N: This has been in my drafts for months. It's time to let it be known. I hope this was okay!

03.15.2021

[everlarkficexchange]

Naked To the One You Love

by: @ameliaodair​

Prompt #46: They really do toast privately in CF – Katniss wearing an orange dress for Peeta and Peeta making cheese buns for Katniss.  They wanted something their own.  No one knows about it and there’s no baby (as far as they know) but how would this change their relationship? How they make their decisions? Would anyone actually believe them when she gets to District 13? [submitted by anonymous]

Peeta, with the help of Prim and Rye has the perfect day planned for he and Katniss.  This is the day they will finally have their toasting.  Will everything go as perfectly as Peeta planned it?

This story goes hand-in-hand with my current WIP called, “Another Way Out.”  If you want to read more, you can find it on AO3 and FFN.

Word Count: 5768

Rated: M for fluff and smut and lemons.

Warning: Adult content below

Un-beta’d, all mistakes are mine

 Naked To the One you Love

| Peeta |

“What are we doing?” Katniss asks as I lead us toward the meadow.  It’s early still, the sun barely making its presence known along the horizon as it bleeds its hues of purples, oranges, and pinks into the morning sky.

“Having breakfast,” I tell her simply, shivering from the cold.

“In the snow?” She quibbles, rubbing her hands together to warm them up.  I sneak my arm around her shoulder and pull her close.  She allows it, pressing her popsicle nose into my neck.

“Just be quiet and follow me,” I tell her, which grants me a scowl— no surprise there.  When we finally reach our tree, we climb up and I surprise her by opening the door to our tree house.

“Wow, it’s a lot bigger than last time,” she smiles, looking around the tiny room to inspect my handy work.  It was only a little more than a week ago when I found a large plank and, with Rye’s help we got it to the top of this tree.  Using some of my dad’s tools, I nailed the plank to one of the sturdier branches.  Each day since then I have come out here, adding more planks to it, and now it looks like a tiny little house.  Or well, well … more like one … very small room of a rather tiny house.  It is just spacious enough for the two of us to stretch out comfortably, but it’s a place of our own, somewhere to go when we need to get away.  It’s the closest we can get to the woods since the fence is electrified twenty-four-seven now.

We spend the morning in our little makeshift tree home, enjoying the breakfast I packed and watching the miracle of another sun rise.  After surviving the games with the love of your life, you learn to appreciate the little things in life.  Like sunrises and sunsets.  Like sharing meals with your loved ones.   Things you didn’t think were important before suddenly become of the utmost importance.  So, Katniss and I bask in the warmth from the sun and just enjoy being together like this.  With no cameras and no Haymitch.  No Effie or prep teams chasing our tails and scolding us about schedules.  As much as we love and adore all of them, it’s nice to have a break from them.  Finally, it’s just us, which is just the way I like it.

“I think it’s time to get Prim,” Katniss tells me when she sees the sun positioned above the bakery.  It always amazes me how she knows what time it is by the position of the sun.

I frown and jut my lip out, exaggerating my disappointment.  “No, not yet.  Just one more minute,” I whine, leaning in for a kiss.

“Come on Peeta, I don’t want Prim walking home alone.” Katniss contests, squirming out of my arms.  As much as I don’t want to leave right now, I know she’s right.  We leave everything in the tree and climb down, deciding we’ll most likely return once Prim is safely back at home.  Together, we walk to the school and wait for Prim just outside the gates of the school yard.  I’m not sure how much Prim knows much about what’s going on, if anything, but Katniss and I are too afraid to let her walk anywhere in the district alone.  Afraid of what Snow might do. 

Everyone, even Katniss’s mom said her father’s death was just a stroke of bad luck— that he had an aneurysm that no one knew about, that ruptured.  That if they’d had the technology the people in the Capitol have at their fingertips, they could have caught and treated it.  But we know better.  There was no Capitol technology or any fancy device that would have spared his life.  There is no doubt in my mind— or Katniss’s that Snow was the cause of her dad’s untimely death.  Of course, it wasn’t him per say, because he was clearly safe inside the President’s Mansion in the Capitol, but more than likely one of his spies here in 12.  The timing of everything was just too coincidental, not to mention the fact that he offered his condolences before it even happened.

“Oh, I told Rye we’d stop by the bakery on our way home today,” I tell Prim and Katniss, giving Prim a little wink.  It’s a lie, but Katniss doesn’t know that.  When I clued Prim in on my master plan just the other day, she was more than happy to go along with it— knowing that we all need something positive in our lives— something to celebrate.

We stop by the bakery and I breathe a sigh of relief that my mother is nowhere in sight.  She isn’t supposed to be here for another hour or so, but that hasn’t stopped her from making an unscheduled appearance before.  Rye has trouble keeping a straight face as he prepares a bag for us, filled with Katniss’s favorites.

“Hey, I uh … I was about to head out and stop by to see Dad, I can walk Prim home,” Rye suggests, also aware of my plan.

Katniss squirms in place, uncomfortable to even the thought of letting Prim out of her sight but I assure her it’s okay.  Rye will protect Prim and keep her safe.  They have grown rather close over the last few weeks … or, well, ever since Mr. Everdeen got sick while Katniss and I were still on the Victory Tour.

I remember thanking him for being there for my surrogate family and he rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, like you’d ever let me hear the end of it if I was there and didn’t help if I could.”  

‘Right,’ I thought to myself.  ‘It had nothing to do with you actually caring about them, let alone that you are a decent human being,’ but I kept those thoughts to myself.

“Prim is safe with me, I assure you that I will take extra good care of her,” Rye assuages.  Katniss squirms uncomfortably, so Rye adds, “Katniss, I promise.  You have my word.”

“Extra good?” Katniss smirks after a second, her shoulders slowly relaxing. “Maybe on your way there, Prim can teach you some grammar,” she says in that snarky tone of hers.

“Katniss, we’ll go straight home, I swear!” Prim decrees, clasping her hands together and poking her lip out.  Katniss narrows her eyes, which is preceded with a scowl, but then she finally concedes.

“Fine.  Go straight home.  NO detours.”

Prim wraps her arms around Katniss’s waist and squeals, “Thank you, thank you, thank you Katniss!  You are the best sister ever!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Katniss remarks, trying to hide her grin.  Like me, she finds it extremely difficult to deny Prim anything.

After Katniss and I collect our stuff from the treehouse, I get an idea.  “I want to make a snowman,” I tell her with a cheeky smile.

“A snowman?  Seriously?  But it’s cold Peeta,” she whines.

“That’s the point.  You can’t make a snowman when it’s warm.”  So, that’s what we do, we build a snowman until she gets the bright idea to chuck a snowball at my face.  And then— it’s on.  I scoop up a ball of snow and sling it at Katniss, hitting her square in the shoulder.

With her impeccable aim, I should have known that I had no chance in the world of besting her in a snowball fight. 

“Hey, that’s not fair,” she whines when she sees the pile of snowballs I have hidden behind the snowman.  She might have impeccable aim, but I am the youngest of three boys— I had to work twice as hard to keep up with them.

“You started it,” I tell her and chuck another ball of snow at her.  For the next hour or so, we have fun, smiling and laughing while getting snow blasted in our faces.  Katniss tackles me from the side and slams me down on my back.  She straddles my hips, pinning my arms to the ground.

“I win, you lose,” she says triumphantly, planting a victory kiss to my lips.

“That may be true, but I think it’s me who is the real winner here.”

Her eyes knit together in confusion, “And just how exactly do you figure that?”

“Well, you’ve got me pinned to the ground, I’m trapped underneath you.  I’ll gladly lose to you if this is my punishment,” I tell her with a crooked grin.

“Come on, let’s go home.  I’m cold,” she says, climbing off my hips and helping me up.  Under normal circumstances I do not need help getting around with my prosthesis.  However, the snow adds many challenges to my already uneven gait.

No longer able to feel either our fingers, toes, or our faces, we make our way back to my house to warm up.  Rye and my dad are hanging out two doors down, at the Everdeen’s, so I don’t have to worry about anyone barging in on us.  Once I get the fire started, we curl up on a blanket I spread out on the floor, soaking up the heat from the flames.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Katniss tells me once the feeling in her fingers returns and then she makes her way upstairs.  Her absence gives me the perfect opportunity to get everything in order.  The moment she is out of sight, I begin creating a mental checklist of everything I need to do.  Once I hear the water splashing against the tile floor, I zip into the kitchen and get to work.  I begin by filling a tray with the cheese buns from the bakery— Katniss’ favorite, and pop them into the oven to warm them up.  And then I take out the dough of the white bread I prepared a few days ago, made for this exact occasion.  I open the drawer that contains the papers and pull them out.  “Certificate of Marriage,” I whisper the words aloud.

“Please be okay with this Katniss,” I anxiously tell myself. “Stop it Peeta.  She loves you, you love her; that’s the only thing that matters.” I remind myself, trying to talk myself up so I don’t chicken out. 

Once all the bread is ready to go, I place them on a table next to the couch and wait for Katniss to come back down.

I am not waiting long when she comes gliding down the stairs in an immaculate floor-length orange summer dress.  The straps holding the dress up on her shoulders are skinny, and for some reason they remind me of spaghetti noodles.  It is snug at the top and gets looser the more the light orange fades into a deeper orange.  My eyes nearly bug out of my head at the sight of her.  She is beautiful, she is exquisite and stunning and just … WOW.  It must be one of the dresses Cinna sent back with her, because I’ve never seen this one before.  And although this one is clearly a dress meant for days with bright sun and scorching heat— it’s not like we’ll be going outside.

It is so unlike her when she twirls around once, a huge smile on her face.  “Do you like it?”

For a moment, I’m speechless, “I … I love it, it’s beautiful; you’re beautiful.”

She blushes, joining me on the floor and I prop some pillows up for us to lean against.

“Are you hungry?” I nervously ask her.  Dammit, why am I so nervous?

“What do you think?” She huffs, her eyes narrowing with her trademark scowl, which forces a chuckle to escape from my throat.  It’s a stupid question to ask anyone who is a resident of 12.  Everyone is hungry, even those of us who are more fortunate than the others.  I hand her the platter of cheese buns, but she’s eyeing the other tray.  “What’s that?” She asks, pointing behind my back.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tell her and shift my body, hoping to block her view.

“Oh my God, Peeta; is that—” The papers are all but forgotten as her eyes go saucer eyed when she catches sight of the bread behind me.  She crawls over me and picks the bread up, delicately turning it over and over in her hands.  “Is this—”

I bashfully look away and nod my head, “It is,” I admit.  Her head snaps to the right— and then to the left as she surveys the room.  And then it all hits her at once as she realizes what this is.  For a moment, I am afraid she’s going to go running for the hills, but instead, she reaches for the bread knife and begins sawing at the loaf.  She frees the piece of bread and impales it on a poker before placing it over the fire.  While she rotates the poker to evenly toast the bread, she looks over to me, her silver eyes glistening with the flames and smiles.

“Do I ever tell you how much I love you?  H-how important you are to me?” She asks as her eyes meet mine.  And maybe it’s just the heat from the flames, but her cheeks suddenly flush into crimson.

All my anxiety dissipates into her gray orbs as I extend my hand out, curling a strand of her hair around my finger.  “It is implied every single day, in everything you do,” I tell her softly.

She pulls the poker back and places it down next to the hearth, but not before removing the slightly toasted bread from its prongs.  She juggles the bread from one hand to the other— again and again as she waits for it to cool.

My eyes are cemented on her while my anxiety rises to a new level as I await her next actions.

“Peeta … you are … the most amazingly incredible person I know— have ever known.  And … I never thought I wanted this, but you— you changed everything for me.  You changed the way I see the world, and I … I can’t imagine a life without you.  And … even if I could, I don’t want to.”

Woah, wait a minute, what is she doing?  Those are supposed to be my words.

‘Katniss, what are you doing?’ I ask her in our silent form of communication.

‘I think you know,’ she smiles mischievously at me.

“Uh-uhn, no, that’s my job, I had this all planned out.”

“Oh, so that’s what today was all about?” She exclaims with a bright smile on her face.  I can’t help but return the smile as I lean over and press my lips against hers.  Using my weight, I push her down onto her back and kiss her deeply— thoroughly running my tongue along her lips, sucking … pulling her bottom lip into my mouth until she shivers.

“I love you Katniss Everdeen,” I mumble through our connected lips.  “I love everything about you; even the things I hate about you, I love.” I crawl up next to her, our bodies continuing to absorb the heat from the flames as I stare longingly into her beautiful grey eyes.

“You ruined my plans, I’m not sure if I can forgive you for that,” I quip, smiling and gazing into her perfect eyes.

“What if I …” She intentionally hesitates, lifting the seam of my shirt up and tracing her fingers lightly across my stomach, “do this?” She finishes, sending goosebumps prickling against my skin and I squirm from side to side with her touch.

“Nothing’s ruined,” she promises.  “All I said, was I wanted for it to be ours; that I didn’t want the day I became yours, and you mine to be in front of a Capitol audience.  As long as it’s just us, I don’t care about the rest.”

And she says she’s not good with words.

I take her hands into mine, our heads sharing the same pillow as we stare into each other’s eyes, “Katniss, I was mesmerized by you since I was a five-year old, snaggle-toothed little boy.  I can’t even remember a time I didn’t love you; and for so long, I never thought you would give me the time of day.  I thought … for so long I thought that just being your friend would be enough, but after having your love— after having your heart … I can’t imagine a life without you.  I know you only said yes because of … well, because of everything, but I swear to you, I will be the best husband you could ever hope to have.  I—”

“Peeta, I—” She interjects, but I stop her.

“Please Katniss, please let me finish,” she nods, not pushing it any further.  I glance down to the bread and then back at her, “I offer this toasted bread to you with the promise of being your best friend.  I will listen when you need someone to talk to; when you just need to vent, my ears will be open, or if you just need a sounding board, I will be that too.  You will never have to be alone again because I will be by your side.“

‘Always,‘ I add in our silent way.

“Even when you don’t think you want me there, I will be.  I will hold your hand when you’re scared, and I will be right here, right next to you, scared with you.  I will tell you that everything will be okay— because even if it’s not, we will have each other.  I will always, always be there to catch you before you fall.  And … and I’ll give you a push if that’s what you need, too.  Because I love you.”

Her eyes are pooled with tears and her chin quivers as she reaches for our toasted slice of bread and holds it up between us. It is the only thing separating our lips.  And then I part my lips and allow her to feed me the bread, our bread.  Our little slice of heaven that signifies our love.  I sink my teeth into the perfectly toasted bread, as does she.  Our teeth sink into our promise to the other and then we seal it with a kiss.

“I love you Peeta Mellark, my husband.”

“And I, you; Katniss Everdeen; my wife.”

“I think that would be Katniss Mellark now; get it right,” she tries to scowl at me but fails, erupting in a giggle.

“I like the sound of that, Mrs. Katniss Mellark— Oh, that reminds me!” I exclaim jubilantly, nearly bursting at the seams as I jump up to collect the papers the mayor had given me earlier this week.

“What’s that?” Katniss asks me.

“It’s um … they’re the papers.  To um, make it official.”

“Seriously?  When— How?” I breathe out a sigh of relief when she doesn’t object.  That she seems genuinely excited.

“The mayor.  But … we can’t tell anyone; she’ll be in a load of trouble if anyone finds out.”

“My husband … conspiring with the mayor,” Katniss beams, glowing with pride.  I am incapable of concealing the cheesy, shit-eating grin when she calls me her husband.

As I watch her grip the pen in her hand and sign her name on all the dotted lines, I pinch myself to see if I am dreaming.  I can’t believe it; I am actually, really, truly and officially married to Katniss Everdeen— Mellark.

“Wait!  I have something for you,” Katniss says and rushes up the stairs.  I hear her run into my room and then a drawer slams before she is sprinting back down the stairs.

“You already gave me a ring, and I um … I want you to have this Peeta,” she says, her cheeks flushing as she reaches for my hand.  Refusing to meet my eyes, she slips something onto my finger.

I pull my hand up to look at what she’s placed on my finger to see a ring adorned to the pointer finger of my right hand.  Then she takes her ring off the chain of her necklace— (the one I gave her in District 4 the night of my true proposal to her— the one that once belonged to her mother, given to me by her father) and does the same.  

It’s a tradition in 12 that goes along with the toasting.  Everyone knows that your wedding ring is typically worn on the fourth finger of your left hand, but in 12, it starts out on the pointer finger of your right hand.  There was a tradition from before the dark days that said you start off like this because there is a vein … or maybe it’s an artery that runs from your finger to your heart.  And since marriage is the ultimate promise, by doing this you are connecting your hearts together.  Once the ceremony is over, then you switch it to the fourth finger of your left hand.

Katniss leans over to kiss me and we switch the ring to our proper fingers while our lips are still conjoined.  For now.  I will eventually have to find a clever place to keep mine until … until well, I don’t know.  But the Capitol cannot know we are already married.

After all the traditions are complete, I take our marriage papers to the office room upstairs and tuck them away in a safe place.  Then, with a little extra pep in my step, I find my way back to the main room and scoop Katniss into my arms.

“Peeta!  What are you doing?” She squeals like a giddy schoolgirl, encircling her arms around my neck.  Carefully, I make my way up the stairs and into my room— our room.  Who am I kidding?  It’s always been our room— no piece of paper or ceremony was needed to decide that for us.

“I am carrying my wife over the threshold.  The toasting isn’t complete until that’s been done,” I remind her with a kiss.

“Okay,” she says, nuzzling her head against my chest.  No thanks to my artificial leg, we make it up the steps successfully.  I press my lips against hers as my foot passes the threshold.  Now, all the standard traditions of 12 are complete, except for the final one.  The one that really seals the deal.  Consummation.

Just thinking the word in my head causes me to stumble.  My brain seems to forget how to gracefully put one foot in front of the other and I fall face first onto my bed, my body nearly crushing my beautiful wife.

She giggles; a foreign sound, but it is one that I cherish.  “I love you,” I say, pressing my forehead against hers.

“Smooth,” she says, and I can feel her lips forming into a smile against my mouth.

“So, now, we’re supposed to um …” There is a nervous energy between us; she’s scared, as am I.  Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life, and that’s saying something— having survived an arena and all.

“Katniss, you know … we don’t have to do this, we can just—”

“What? You don’t want to?” She interjects defensively.

“No, no— I mean, yes, I do.  I was just saying … if you don’t want to, it’s okay.  We don’t have to, we can wait,” I stumble over my words trying to reassure her.

“I want to Peeta,“ she says certainly, never taking her eyes off mine.  "I have wanted to for a while now, and I think we’ve waited long enough.  Will you … will you help me unzip my dress?” Her eyes flit to the floor as she smiles nervously, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue.

She doesn’t have to ask me twice.  While Katniss and I have done many things, getting caught up in heated kisses, touching in places I would rather not mention, we have never gone this far.  We have never gone all the way.  She turns around and pulls her hair to the side, granting me access to her zipper.  I scrupulously glide the zipper down until it refuses to budge another inch and delicately slide the sleeves down her arms.  A frown of disappointment encases my lips when she begins to braid her hair.

I press my lips to her bare neck and kiss my way to her shoulder, which causes a moan to expel from her lips.  “Leave it down, please.”

“Mmm hmmm,” she moans.

“My God, you are so beautiful,” I tell her, my lips trailing down to the crest of her shoulder.  Finally, I sling her dress into the chair next to my bed and she nervously flips onto her back, incredulously facing me. 

‘Oh my God, Katniss is naked, bare to me and in my bed,’ I think to myself as I stare her up and down.

Feeling self-conscious … probably due to my ogling her, she reaches over and pulls the sheet to cover her near-naked body.

“No, what are you doing?” I ask her, tugging the fabric back.

“I just … feel so … naked without my clothes,” she says, flushing with embarrassment.

“Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

“Well then … be naked with me,” she says, tugging on the hem of my shirt, eager for me to remove it.  I slide my shirt off and it joins her dress in the chair.  I am hesitant to remove my pants, still self-conscious about my leg.

“Pants too,” Katniss whispers in a raspy— so, so sexy voice.

“I … I—”

“Peeta, I love all of you, even the Capitol-made parts,” she takes charge and flips me over, undoes the button of my pants, and I am too paralyzed to refuse; not that I would want to.  She removes my pants, then sits up and straddles my hips.  With nothing but our underclothes on, we are completely bare to each other, and I understand what she meant about feeling naked without her clothes.  There is nothing to conceal our insecurities, both physical and emotional.  But that’s the point, right?  To be completely open, bare— naked to the one you love.  To have nothing— no secrets between you.  However, underneath all my anxiety, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything quite this amazing before.  We slip under the covers and I click the lamp on that sits on my nightstand.  It emanates a soft glow, perfectly lighting the room, while producing a shadow over the insecurities.

“Can I take your leg off?” Katniss asks me.  She must be in my head again— I was just too embarrassed to take the initiative— afraid she would find my mutilated leg … repulsive.

“Okay,” I say.  For the first time I realize she’s had a lot of practice helping me put it on and take it off as she slips it off with ease.

“I don’t want any part of the Capitol here for this,” she says, placing kisses against the scar on my leg.  I pull her up to me and flip her back onto her back.

We are a tangled mess of arms and legs, our tongues dancing together in a frenzy, yet in perfect synchronicity.  As if they’d been practicing for years and years until they reached utter perfection.  I trail kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone and across her shoulders.  I want to kiss every inch of her body; I don’t want to miss a single bit of her skin.  I reach down and cup her perfect breasts in my hands and she moans out in pleasure, which causes my cock to pulse until it is fully erect.

“Touch me Peeta,” surrendering to her every command, I stroke her arms, and then add light touches to her perfectly flattened stomach.  I caress my hands up and down her legs, trying to muster up the courage to touch her there.  Finally, I do, and she’s so hot and wet for me.  I slide one finger inside her center and keep it in there while I use my thumb to rub circles on that little bundle of nerves that I know has the power to make her come undone.

Her body tenses up and I know I’ve hit the right spot when she pants out my name.  “I could be satisfied … happy, just doing that to you … every second of every minute, of every single day,” I tell her once the intensity of her climax has subsided.

“Then how would you make me cheese buns?” She says with a heavy breath.  Smiling, I inch up to her face and kiss her.  Soft and light at first, and then harder, deeper— as if I am starving and her lips are the only way to satiate my hunger. 

“I need you Peeta; I— I need you closer,” she breathes into me and I instantly know what she means. She wants me to be inside her.  We have both wanted this for such a long time, I almost can’t believe it’s actually happening.  I kiss her softly as I fumble my way on top of her.  Using one elbow to prop myself up, my other hands grips onto my cock as I tease her entrance with my hardened member.  Even without being inside her, I can feel how wet she is.  Which only causes my already rock-hard cock to pulse even harder.  She spreads her legs open for me and I fumble nervously, guiding my cock into her entrance and sliding inside her— slowly at first.

“Is this okay?” I ask her, recalling an embarrassing conversation with Rye as he gave me the intricate details that a girl’s first time can be painful, and that it’s important that they are “ready” prior to penetration.

“More Peeta, I need all of you,” she demands, locking her legs around my hips and digging her heels into the back of my calves.  Slowly, I push myself deeper into her, impaling her, until finally, I am fully submerged into her heat.

“Holy FUCK!” I gasp, crying out when my cock is surrounded by her walls.  “Is- is this okay?” I ask her again, not wanting to do anything that might hurt her.  It is taking every bit of willpower that I possess to keep my body still— to prevent my hips from ramming deep— and hard, into her.

“Oh God, Peeta, you feel so good.  Please … please, Peeta—” she begs me, and I’ve never been very good at denying her anything as I submit to her will.  Slowly, I partially retract myself from her center and then slowly, slowly push myself back inside, our pelvises grinding against each other.  Her nails dig into my back, finding their way to my ass and then she squeezes—

“Holy FUCK, how did you just do that?” I ask when her walls tighten around my cock.

“What … this?” She grins, repeating the action, “You like that?” She says in a teasing, seductive voice.

“Katniss— stop … or I’m going to … or I won’t last, and I want … this has to be perfect,” I beg her and then she reaches up, encircling her arms around my neck and pressing her mouth to mine.

“It’s already perfect because I’m with you,” she tells me in-between heated kisses.  And once again, she stupefies me with her words.

“Oh God, I love you too, my perfect, beautiful, amazingly gifted wife,” I tell her, while gliding in … gliding out of her sex.

“Katniss … I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to last if you keep doing that … where do you want me to—”

“Right where you are,” she tells me, knowing what I am trying to say.

“But,” I question her with a raise of my brow.

“I took that pill Effie gave you— I mean, me,” she explains, running her tongue along my ear.

I shiver from the contact and lose all control as I slam into her— again and again before grinding into her center once more.  We both grind; hard and slow, and deep— achieving the perfect rhythm until I feel that familiar stirring deep in my stomach— and then we’re both moaning, and yelling, and whispering— shouting— gasping the other’s name and I’m spilling into her, filling her with my seed; both of us believing that Effie’s miracle pill from the Capitol will prevent any watering of said seed.

0 – 0 – 0

Curious about their “unspoken language”?  Or Katniss’s father’s untimely death?  Or who the mayor of 12 is since it clearly is not Mayor Undersee?  Come check out my THG re-writes: Changing the Game (Complete) and Another Way Out (In progress) (The final book/story is TBA).  Told in multiple POV’s.  AND, find out what happens once Katniss reaches District 13.  Does anyone know they actually and officially got married in 12?  Does Katniss get pregnant?  Does Effie’s miracle pill work for them?

[jaskiersvalley]

So idk if you'd be interested but I had the idea of like the witchers when they were still lil maybe before the mutations or maybe right after and lil lambert having a nightmare and lil geralt and lil eskel giving him a cuddle and making him feel better

I’ve not been able to get the idea of little witchers out of my head since you sent this in, Nonnie! And finally, I have an idea that I feel is good enough for this prompt - might lack a little on a literal nightmare but...hopefully the rest of it makes up for it. :D

The winter at Kaer Morhen was more lively than it had been in decades. It wasn’t just the usual four witchers there, this time Jaskier was there and Yennefer too. It was noisy, for want of a better word. With Jaskier around, there was always laughter and music. Even if he wasn’t the one making racket, he had a wonderful knack for inspiring the others to revert to something more lighthearted.

Truthfully, it was a little tiring. Lambert, Eskel and even Geralt had a habit of becoming so much more animated. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means but Vesemir did miss the quiet of the keep, the warm nights where they were all settled by a fire and reading or playing gwent in relative silence. Now, there was an almost constant jesting, scuffling and running around that was worse than when they were children. So, really, Vesemir couldn’t be blamed when he announced he was going to go hunting for a few days. He wasn’t running away. Simply, he was taking a breather and enjoying the silent solitude of the mountain. It wasn’t like he was leaving behind literal children, they could keep everything ticking over while he was gone. As planned, he left.

Breakfast without Vesemir was unusual. Lambert sat opposite Geralt and Yennefer who was trying her best to ignore the bickering and the fact that Jaskier’s swinging legs were kicking her ankle every few seconds. They were noisy, ribbing each other, Lambert was trying to cram a whole egg in his mouth while Jaskier was trying to make him laugh so he couldn’t do it.

“You’d look more graceful gargling a ballsack,” Eskel barked on a laugh and nudged Yennefer who was next to him. “Trust me on this one, I know.”

Obviously his comment hit its mark because Lambert threw a half eaten slice of toast coated in jam at him. Only a quick aard stopped it from splattering on Eskel. However, it instead ended up, jam side down, on Yennefer’s shoulder and hair. Silence engulfed the room as everyone watched her reaction. Without a word, she stood up and stalked out.

“Yennefer! Wait!” Jaskier was up and after her, knowing that of the lot, he would have the greatest chance of appeasing her (and probably most capable of getting jam out of hair with minimal pain).

Just outside the hall, Yennefer spun on her heel and glared at him. Not that it made much of a difference, Jaskier had grown immune to most glares and threats over the years.

“They were just having fun,” Jaskier tried to appease. “They’re home, relaxed and without the pressing worries of the Path. Childhood home and all that.”

There was a glint in Yennefer’s eyes and her smile held nothing nice. “Exactly like children,” she nodded. “They can be as they behave.”

Stepping around Jaskier, she carelessly flung a bright purple spell into the hall and turned to Jaskier. “Have fun with the kids.” Before he had a chance to ask, she opened up at portal and walked away without a backward glance.

“Shit.” Jaskier tried to listen through the door before he returned, wondering whether he’ll find three witchers knocked out or turned into goats. In the end, it was so much worse than that. Because when Jaskier returned to the hall, he wasn’t greeted by goats. Not even three idiots asleep, face first in their food. Instead, three sets of large, terrified eyes peered up at him from shirts that were too large.

Eskel and Geralt couldn’t have been more than five while Lambert was probably about three. They watched Jaskier walk in and backed away, distrust and fear clear in their little faces. It broke Jaskier’s heart.

“It’s okay,” Jaskier dropped his voice to something soft and gentle and he crouched down. “I’m a friend.”

They were obviously children but some of their memories must have remained because Geralt suddenly made a run for him, arms out stretched and a cry of “Jaskier!” as he barrelled into the bard. It was only because he was so small and light that they didn’t go toppling over.

“You’re alright, Geralt,” Jaskier soothed as he wrapped arms around the tiny witcher who was utterly swamped in his old shirt. “You two okay?” he asked Lambert and Eskel, standing up. What Jaskier didn’t anticipate was for Lambert’s lips to wobble precariously as he backed away, tripping on his own shirt. The wail of distress was only made worse when Eskel pulled himself up to his full height and bravely stood between Jaskier and Lambert without a word. He was quivering and shaking, turning a little from Jaskier but standing his ground all the same.

“Oh sweethearts,” Jaskier breathed. He crouched down and extended an arm for Eskel too. “I’ll look after you all.”

Turning away, Eskel reached a hand for Lambert and pushed him up. While keeping a tight grip on him, he edged closer to Jaskier. Close enough, Eskel made a quick dash and wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s neck while Lambert tentatively took hold of the outstretched hand.

Three baby witchers wrapped around him, Jaskier looked around and sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy and he silently cursed Yennefer’s vindictive ways. There was no telling how long the spell would last or when she or Vesemir would be back. For a change, Jaskier had to be the adult and the one to look after everyone else. The first challenge was standing up with three child witchers in his arms. With a groan and a heave, he managed and staggered over to the table.

“Right, we need to make sure you’re all fed.” He knew next to nothing about children and diets but he suspected that the mead on the table was a no go. Adult witchers might be idiots to drink at breakfast but Jaskier wasn’t. He pushed that out of reach and looked at the rest of the table. “Jam toast, who’d like some?”

Three small hands shot up immediately. Which was a good sign, surely. Pulling the bread close, Jaskier cut three slices and made sure the witchers stayed in their seats while he toasted the bread. Once it was lightly brown and crispy, Jaskier returned and was surprised to find Eskel had already managed to grab the jam jar and was wielding a knife.

As alarming as it was to see a small child with a knife, Jaskier let him put jam on his own toast while he sorted the ones for Lambert and Geralt. Only, Eskel seemed to have beaten him to it, the toast now sticky with lumps of jam was pushed towards Lambert who picked it up, uncaring of getting his hands messy.

“That was very kind, Eskel,” Jaskier said and passed him another slice of toast while giving Geralt one too. He watched them eat, smiled at Geralt’s polite “thank you”. So far, he’d heard Lambert cry and Geralt speak yet Eskel remained oddly silent.

Washing three sticky and squirming witchers was a task and a half. Jaskier was reluctant to let them out of his sight, not trusting them around the crumbling old keep. But they seemed determined to run around like children were wont to do. Tidying away the breakfast table, Jaskier watched them and realised something that made him sit down for a moment. For all their play, there wasn’t a single bit of laughter. There was a wariness to all three, they were protective of each other. While they remembered Jaskier to a certain extent, they seemed stuck in a limbo between being true children and people who have experienced a century of horror. It didn’t bear thinking about, what they could remember and how their current state allowed for the processing of it.

Not that Jaskier had to wonder for long. All too soon the three little terrors had quieted down, looking sleepy. Which meant it was probably time for a nap.

“Come on, you lot,” Jaskier herded them towards their bedrooms. “Afternoon nap.”

It would mean he got to at least prepare dinner without having to worry. Geralt’s bedroom was the first and Jaskier tucked him in, unable to miss out on a kiss to his forehead. Next was Lambert who kicked up at little fuss but Jaskier twisted the corner of a throw into a makeshift cuddly toy and he watched as Lambert shoved the tip in his mouth, eyes drooping. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find Lambert sucking his thumb when he fell asleep. Last was Eskel who was still as silent as before. He clutched at Jaskier’s hand, obviously reluctant to be left alone to sleep but it had to happen. Jaskier had other things to do.

First things first, Jaskier returned to his room. He cast his lute a longing glance but knew it wasn’t right. Looking after three child witchers was exhausting, he sat down on his bed heavily and tried to figure out what to do next. Dinner preparations. Maybe find a storybook in the library. It was easier to think with his eyes closed. And if he lay down for just a minute, to rest while he plotted out a course of action. The bed was soft and warm, he could safely think there.

Jaskier jolted awake to the sound of wailing. It was an utterly terrified child crying tears of distress. Stumbling out, Jaskier rushed towards the noise coming from Lambert’s room. The door was already open and he blinked to see Lambert, tear streaked face red and mouth curved down into the unhappiest of frowns. However, Eskel was hugging him from one side while Geralt was clambering up onto the bed too.

“Bad dream?” Jaskier asked and he perched on the edge of the bed. He didn’t expect Lambert to nod.

“Big monster.” His voice wobbled and fresh tears sprung up. “It bit me. Wanted to eat me.”

It was all too easy to reach for the bundle of witchers and pull them in for a cuddle. Lambert sniffled and described the monster while Geralt looked at him and nodded along.

“Kikimora.” Geralt suddenly said. “That’s what tried to eat you. It bit me once too.”

Jaskier could see the confusion on Geralt as he said it, the war of memory versus his current state made him frown. Especially when he peered at his shoulder where Jaskier knew he had a scar which wasn’t there in his current form.

“You’re very brave for not letting it eat you,” Jaskier added, stroking through Lambert’s hair. “How about we go down to the hall again? I could tell you a story.”

Keeping Lambert in his arm, Jaskier led the way, one hand holding Eskel’s while Geralt kept his fisted in his breeches. The fire had died down and the room was cooling. Jaskier would need to rekindle it but before he had a chance, Eskel raised a hand in a familiar sign and a powerful burst of flames shot out. It was a little too much, flames raced up the walls for a moment before dying down.

“Good job!” Jaskier said all the same. He knew witchers could cast signs but he’d never seen one so powerful.

They settled on the throws and Jaskier tried to think of old tales that would be suitable for children. Preferably none with monsters or anything that could upset them. His pickings were slim but he finally found one, a noble night and his horse on a quest to retrieve the crown for the king. It was easy enough to change a few details, come up with pit filled with spikes to swing over using vines rather than hyrda’s thousand heads hissing in a pit. All three witchers listened raptly, eyes large, gasping at all the tense bits and Lambert let out a little cheer when the knight got to the crown.

Dinner was a simple affair. Jaskier found some cured meats and fruits. While the three ate, he went to get his lute. They could have a quiet evening together. Really, the witchers were already drooping into their plates. It was kind of adorable.

Settling them on the rugs, Jaskier piled blankets and pillows around them, fussing to get them comfortable. Once they were settled into a cuddle pile, he picked up his lute and began to play. Slowly, the songs morphed from nursery rhymes to lullabies and the witchers fell asleep one by one. Placing his lute to the side, Jaskier tucked them in securely and smiled. They looked so peaceful and cute when asleep. Plus, he had been right, Lambert did suck his thumb. Grabbing a fur, Jaskier settled down and fell asleep, knowing that he would wake if anything happened over night.

Nothing did happen and Jaskier woke to the sound of the door slamming shut in the morning.

“What the hell?” Vesemir’s voice was full of disbelief, a deer slung over his shoulders and a handful of quails and rabbits hanging from his hands.

“I can explain!” Jaskier mumbled as he sat up. The witchers were quicker though and they were all backing away from Vesemir as he approached. Geralt pulled Lambert behind Jaskier while Eskel charged. With all the determination and bravery of a child, he stomped up to Vesemir and kicked him in the ankle before turning and running to hide behind Jaskier, clutching at Lambert.

Obviously, on some level they remembered the Vesemir had trained them. Jaskier didn’t know the full level of his involvement in creating witchers but the three cowering behind him told him enough.

“Yennefer got pissed off yesterday morning,” Jaskier offered with a hopeful look. “Maybe the spell will wear off.”

“I’ll get the potion to break the spell ready. You get them each a mug of warm milk.” With that, Vesemir walked to the pantry, dumped his collection on the ground and left.

Orders given, Jaskier set about getting things ready. He settled the three witchers at the table, put some fruits in front of them to snack on so he could warm up milk and pour it into mugs. By the time he was tipping the saucepan over the mugs, Vesemir had reappeared with a vial in hand.

“How have they been?”

“Fine. Minus the nightmares. Eskel hasn’t said anything though. But he has one hell of an igni.”

A world weary sigh left Vesemir. “That’s them for you. Geralt was always polite and well behaved. Eskel was all but mute until long after the trials. We knew he could speak but he only did that with Geralt, Lambert and a few others. Being more magically inclined, he had a knack for all the signs. Meanwhile, Lambert was, well, nobody expected him to survive the trials.”

“I hope you never told him that.” The look Vesemir gave Jaskier told him everything. “Well then, let’s get them back to how they should be, right?”

Three mugs, each with two drops of the potion. It turned the milk a vibrant yellow. Vesemir’s “at least it will taste sweet” was only mildly reassuring. None of the witchers let Vesemir approach so Jaskier set down two mugs then turned to take the third from him.

“You need to drink it to be big, strong witchers,” he said. There was a reluctance from the three until Geralt piped up.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.” Vesemir was cast suspicious looks and nobody touched their mugs.

“It shouldn’t,” Jaskier said and that seemed to ease things a little. “If it does, I’ll be here to help.”

Hesitantly, Geralt reached for his mug, too trusting. He took a sip and his eyes widened in delight before starting to chug it with childish delight. Taking his lead the other two picked up their mugs and drank too.

At first nothing happened and Jaskier looked nervously to Vesemir. Then he saw Geralt’s face fall into a frown, a hand going to his stomach. There was a soft poof of smoke and the next moment Geralt was sat there in his scarred, adult form. Two more puffs and Lambert and Eskel were back. They all blinked owlishly, looked at each other then at Jaskier and Vesemir.

“Oh fuck,” Eskel gasped, a hand flying to his mouth. “I kicked Vesemir in the ankle.”

“Just don’t do it now and I’ll forgive you,” Vesemir smiled. “Everyone alright?”

Three mute nods were his reply and everyone tried to make sense of what had happened over the course of the last day. While there was a silent agreement that they would never mention it again, Vesemir wasn’t surprised to find the four of them in a pile in front of the fire come evening. He didn’t even roll his eye when he saw Lambert hadn’t yet managed to shake his old habit of sucking his thumb.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

The smell of freshly baked bread

There’s mention of a minor character's death in this section and talking about said character’s death. There’s a bit of my autobiographical information in this section as well.

It was a shit day all around. He had a rough day at work, he discovered he had a flat tire when he got out of work, and him and his boyfriend had had a fight earlier that morning about something stupid.

So he found solitude in the kitchen making one of his favorite things in the entire world - homemade bread. His nana had let him help her in the kitchen from a young age. He officially made his first loaf, from start to finish, when he was 9. Whenever he was down, the smell of fresh baked bread always comforted him. It was also the clue for any of his friends that something was wrong.

“What’s going on Race?” Jack took a seat at the kitchen table with a glass of lemonade. “And don’t say nothin’ - you’re making bread.”

He sighed, a smudge of flour on his cheek. “It’s been a shit day, Jack.”

“Care to elaborate?” Jack gave him a look, his baby brother was easily read and he had some idea what was wrong.

Kneading the dough, Race channeled his anger into the dough. “Had a fight with Spot this morning about something stupid, work was shit and I had a flat tire. I’m just done with this day.”

“And so you’re making bread.” Jack sighed, watching him work. “Wanna talk about it?”

Race quickly buttered a bowl, throwing the bread into it to rise. He washed his hands before joining Jack at the table. “What if Spot and I aren’t meant to be together?”

“Spot loves you Race and you love him.” The concern for his brother showed on Jack’s eyebrows. “Is this because of one fight?”

Race shook his head. “There’s been many little fights. There’s times we pick a fight just to do so. I’m exhausted by it.”

“Do you want to break up with Spot?” Jack asked quietly, looking at Race for any signs.

The tears were in his eyes before Jack could say another word. “God no, Jackie. He’s my soulmate and I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“So you love him, that’s good. Now we just have to figure out why you’re picking fights.” Jack took a sip of lemonade. “When was the last time you two had a date?”

Race looked at the fridge. There was a calendar that they kept track of all important dates. He moved to grab it before flipping through it. Four months, it had been four months since they had a date.

“Plan something, Race. Surprise him - take him out on the town. Do something coupley. Spend some time with each other outside of this house.” Jack gave him a look. “Has anything changed in the last four months?”

Race shrugged. “We’ve both gotten busier with work. We try to spend the weekends together but there’s always something.”

“Start making your relationship a priority. You two need to talk to one another and be aligned to what you want to do. Yes, your friends will all still be here but your relationship with Spot comes first before anything else.” Jack gave him a look, before looking over his shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Jack made his exit, stopping to pat Spot on the back. Race moved to put the dough in the bread pans before putting them in the oven and setting a timer. He looked at Spot with a sad smile. “Wanna talk?”

Spot nodded. “Let me change first. How about you grab us a beer and meet on the patio?”

Race grabbed the beers, stepping onto the patio, fussing with his phone while he waited. He gave Spot a small smile as he took a seat and sipped at his beer. “So how much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know that you don’t want to break up.” Spot sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry Race for yelling’ at you this morning but I almost never see you anymore and if I do, we’re out with friends.”

Race took a sip, agreeing with him. “I’m sorry for yelling back at you. The moment I heard your anger, I just got defensive. Did ya know it’s been 4 months since we had a proper date?”

“That’s far too long.” Spot sighed. “So what do we do?”

Race held his hand out for Spot. “We start making us a priority. Date night at least once a week, we alternate planning them. We both agree when we go out.”

“And we talk more.” Spot paused. “I know things have been shit with both our jobs, but we need to start talking more. I’ll talk with Itchy about changing my hours -  being home earlier and spending more time with you.”

With Race as a teacher, he was home by 4pm everyday while Spot, being a mechanic, didn’t get home until 6pm or later.

Race blinked back the tears. “I promise to talk things out with you before we each lose our cool.”

“I promise to start planning dates for us to just be a couple.” Spot squeezed his hand.

“This sounds like we’re making wedding vows.” Race chuckled. “I promise to ask before making plans for us.”

“And I promised to attempt to make dinner once a week for us.” Spot grinned.

Race shook his head. “Do you want to kill me?”

“I promised to only make grilled cheese, cereal, or French Toast on the nights I make dinner.” Spot amended with a chuckle. “I promise to leave the complicated dinners to you.”

Race grinned. “I promise to make sure you’re well fed and happy.”

“I promise to cuddle with you on the bad days and make you laugh on the good days.” Spot murmured, rigging Race closer to him. “And I promise to love you forever and always.”

Race’s face softened as some of the tears escaped, running tracks down his face. “And I promised to love you forever and always. Kiss me, Spot!”

Putting his hands on Race’s cheeks, Spot closed the distance and kissed him. They had a mini makeout session on the patio until Race’s timer went off. Pulling away with a groan, Race sighed. “Hold that thought for 2 minutes.”

He ran inside, taking the bread out of the oven, inhaling deeply. His favorite scent in the entire world. He took the bread out of the pans, letting them cool on a cooling rack. He sliced two pieces from a loaf, smearing butter on them before going back into the patio. “Peace offering.”

“Should I start pissing you off more so I can have homemade bread?” Spot asked, biting into his piece. “This is amazing, Race.”

Race shrugged. “‘My nana would always pull me into the kitchen and make bread with me. It’s a comfort thing. I’ll start making it more if you want.”

“I never knew that about you.” Spot smiled. “What else would she bake?”

Race chuckled. “It’s almost easier to tell you what she wouldn't make. She would often visit us and she’d be in the house for 10 minutes and would immediately start making something - bread, dinner, cinnamon rolls - Spot she was an amazing cook and she made everything with love.”

Squeezing his hand, Spot smiled at Race. “That’s fantastic you have these great memories of her.”

“Yea. It really is.” He cleared his throat. “She passed away when I was 11 - lung cancer. I was actually thinking about her as I made the bread. Wondering what we’d talk about or how she’d love me as an adult. I only got her for 11 years. There was a long time that I resented my older family members and parents for getting more time with her. But I realized she lives on in her recipes and memories.”

Spot smiled sadly. “She would be so damn proud of you snookums. I’m so damn proud of you. You keep her alive by continuing to make her recipes and talking about her. She lives in you.”

“Nicely done, quoting The Lion King.” Rave laughed, wiping away the tears. “Thanks for listening.”

Spot leaned over and wiped his tears away. “I’ll always listen, Race. Sometimes we just gotta slow down and just talk. I promise I’ll always listen when you want to talk and talk when you want to listen.”

“I promise I’ll always listen when you want to talk and talk when you want to listen.” Race repeated, taking Spot’s hand in his and squeezing it. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Racetrack Higgins.” Pulling him in, he kissed him gently with a smile.

This one slightly got away from me - almost 1500 words. Thanks for reading! This one is very near and dear to my heart!! Any feedback or comments would be especially appreciated and loved.

Thank you @wide-eyed--wonderer for sending this in!!

[emmyrosee]

part 2 for the axel angst please!!🥺💓💙

The searing sun peeking in through the windows was the first thing to rouse you awake, and maybe that was for the best. Last night lingered on your tongue like a bad hangover, going stale as it mixes with the acidity of the new day.

The house was almost unrecognizable; Axel’s belongings tossed without care and broken everywhere. Clothes, photos, jewelry, some of his scholarship memorabilia and alumni shit, it didn’t feel the same. It felt more like a horror film set than a home.

You gently sat up off the hard, cold floor, back nerves scolding you wildly as your head spun around, refusing to settle on one thing. Trying to focus only increased the nausea cemented in your stomach. Every fiber of your soul hurt, every part of you was drained with exhaustion.

You reach down to push yourself off of the hardwood, and you flinch when your hand lands on a mop of sorts. When you retract your palm and look down, Axel lay sleeping next to you, ever the loyal mutt. It brought you a twisted sense of comfort to see the exhaustion and sickness ectched on his once beautiful features, and if it were any other case, you’d want nothing more than to bring him to bed and nurse him back to himself.

You hated that you still wanted to do only that. You reach down to caress his cheek, and a sudden memory wracks through you-

It’s her. From last night. Axel’s hand caressing her flawless cheek.

You once thought Axel flawless, too.

As if burned, you yank your hand away from him and place it to your chest, the sting of tears prickling your eyes. With a deep, settling sigh, you push yourself up from the hardwood, letting yourself finally rise from the floor. You shook from lack of energy and shambled like a zombie to the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror and get lost in your own eyes, the hollowed pools dulled with dustiness. You wondered how you let a man get such a reaction out of you, you’d never let it happen before.

But this wasn’t just any man. This was Axel Cluney, the one man who your heart refused to let go. The man who was saving paycheck after paycheck to buy you a diamond ring before riding off in the sunset with you in his Mustang.

His two babies.

It didn’t matter how bad you hated him and wanted to watch him burn and collapse, go mad without your love.

It just didn’t.

The cold water you splashed on your face does nothing to spark the stale feeling in your body, if anything it makes you realize how numb you are.

A broken, scratchy call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts as you stare at yourself. It’s desperate, needy, like a sick baby who needs it’s mother to calm the illness that wracks through their body.

“Please… where are you? Let’s talk about this, please.”

You chuckle to yourself at his words. What’s there to talk about? What else could either of you begin to say? You lick the corner of your lips and dry your hands and face on a dirtied towel, tossing it randomly back onto the floor. You exit the safer confines of the bathroom before passing Axel; he looked even worse awake than he did asleep:

Tousled wildly was his chocolate brown hair, eyes sunken in like a corpse. His once lively pools of green were glazed from expired tears and swollen from already fighting new ones.

“Hi-“

“What do you want for breakfast?” You say flatly, pushing past him and making your way to the kitchen. He follows, ever the loyal pup, only stopping on one side of the island to face you.

Silence seems to be law as it lingers between you both, his constant gnawing at his bottom lip increasingly making you concerned for canker sores to form on them. It was a nervous habit of his, and you hate how much you care about it. 

“Stop eating your lip and eat your breakfast,” you mutter in annoyance, sliding the plate of buttered toast his way. You fix your own mediocre breakfast, feeling too sick to eat as you pick at your cereal. Looking up from your bowl and through your lashes, you see him toying with the warm bread, eyes darting from his plate to the clock on the stove.

“It’s 7:15,” he says aloud to seemingly no one. You wonder if it’s secretly to you, a silent hope that you didn’t mean it when you told him he had to be put by seven.

You shrug, “so finish eating and leave.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he says, almost a snap. “I want to talk to you like a fucking adult.”

“And I want to know why you need to lie to me,” you yell, tossing the bowl in the sink. It shatters with a spine tingling clink, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.. “Like, I know the truth, I saw you with this little brat, you were touching her and smirking that stupid smirk, I literally just need to hear you say it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Axel yells back. “Nothing happened! She came to the garage, Harrison was still working on her car, I took her to dinner-“

“WHY DID YOU TAKE HER TO DINNER!” You screamed, tearing at your hair. The room falls silent as you continue to stare at him, chest rising and falling with each deep gasp you took. “Why-why-why the mustang, why the sudden change of your appearance, why!”

“Is it so weird to believe that I can form relationships with a customer to increase my business?” Axel snaps.

“No, it’s not! You should! But never has anyone ever changed everything about them for a client!”

“I didn’t change everything!”

“You’re right,” you say, chest rising and falling against your pained heart. “Your bullshit attitude and lack of respect will never leave you, no matter what shitbox you drive to seduce women.” You cross your arms tightly over your chest as you pace the floor. Then, you snicker despite yourself, “sorry. Your clients.” With a final glare, you sink back to the floor, knees folded tightly to your chest. Loud pads of footsteps approach you, and out of the corner of your broken eyes, you see legs fold down as Axel sits next to you. He leans his head on your shoulder, sniffling softly.

“What do you want me to do… what can I say to fix this?” 

“What’s your story, Axel?” You mumble. “I just want the truth… was there nothing, was it playful flirting, is it a, b, or c, like… what is the fucking truth, Axel?”

The lump in your throat burns like acid as he says nothing, shoulders stalled as if he forgot how to breathe. Your hand comes up to card his hair softly, his tears sticking to your chest. “I think you need to go,” you mumble sadly. He chokes on a sob and shakes his head, his grip around you tightening. Your nods are numb to counteract his shivering no’s, it makes you sick to have to see him like this, let alone be the one to send him away.

“I wanna fix this,” he whimpers. “Please… I want to fix this.”

“How?” You ask. “How in the name of fuck are you going to fix this? Because please, if you could, do it, Axe!” 

Once again, nothing. You’re not fully sure what you’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t silence. Some dramatic reveals, or a word of assurance that you’re absolutely insane for even thinking he could want to be with anyone else.

And that’s true. You know it is.

But there’s a stranger before you, and until words of charm and poetic justice slip out at an unforgiving pace, you wouldn’t know how you’ve known him.

“This won’t work…” you mumble to the air. “Not like this… there is no way we can come back from this. Not like this.”

“Then we will just have to fix it,” Axel says, words shaky. “We always fix it. Always. There’s never been anything we can’t-“

“Alexander,” you interrupt, effectively silencing him. His eyes are sleepy and wet with his sobs, making your heart physically ache. Your lungs squeeze, and you will yourself to speak. “No. Not now.”

“Is this the end?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you still love me?”

Yes. With every fiber of your soul and being, yes.

“I think so,” you murmur.

“Can you please think about this?” He practically begs. “Please?”

Yeah. You can give him that. You close your eyes and nod, letting the feeling of exhaustion weigh you down.

Broken, almost robotic, Axel slowly stands and shambles towards the door. He numbly, with minimal movement, opens the large entrance, and the light cutting around him makes him look different than you’d seen him these past few hours.

Better. Cleaner. Refound.

One foot crosses the threshold, and he pauses, quickly spinning on his heel to look at you.

“I’ll go, but you need to listen to me.”

“Axel,”

“No.” He says sternly. Your stomach hurts at the gruff, no-negotiate tone of his voice, but you say nothing as you eye him. “You’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen good because if this is the last time I’m going to see you, I’m not hiding shit.”

With a thick beat of silence, you swallow the lump in your throat and watch him, nodding slowly. He inhales sharply; “for two years, I gave you the best of me. There is no ‘better’ part of me that I’m saving for someone else, you’ve got him. You’re always going to have him.” He blinks rapidly, and though his voice barely cracks, a new wave of tears flow down his flushed cheeks, splattering on the expensive leather of his jacket.

“And I’ve done everything I fucking can to keep you away from the asshole I once was, and I thought I did a pretty good job. Apparently, not, because here I am making you cry and feel less than like the queen you are. You fuckin’ know that I’d rather have needles shoved in my fucking eyes and razors slicing under my nails than see you cry, and to know that I’m the cause of that is sickening to me.

“I can’t give you the truth you want because I don’t know the truth. I don’t know what I did last night. I don’t think what I did was cheating, but I’m not going to sit here and argue with you about it, because you’re the smartest person I know, and if you’re hurt from something I was too dense and downright stupid to not know would hurt you, then I need to accept that yeah, I guess I cheated like the fuckhead I am, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again. And you have the right to sit here and hate me and despise me all you want, but you’ve got my heart, and I’ll be damned if you don’t get to keep it.

“You need to take time to heal. I got that. And I respect that. I’m going to be at the garage; and when you decide what you want to do, where you want to go, I’ll be there. You are the-“ he cuts himself off with a deep crack of his voice, and upon coughing in his fist to compose himself, you’re left absolutely speechless as to what to say.

“You are.. the single, only thing I want in this fucking life. And I had you and I might’ve lost you. And If I didn’t lose you, I absolutely don’t deserve you. I never did. And if you’re done playing this charade where you think I’m better than I actually am, just leave my stuff in front of the garage. If you never want to see me again, I’m not going to force you to have to look at me.”

There was the poetic explanation you’d wanted.

“When you do to clean up later, the bowl in the sink is broken. Don’t hurt yourself on it.”

With that warning and a quick spin on his heel, Axel slams the door shut behind him, hard enough to shake the good plates his mother bought you both, and leaves you to yourself and your thoughts, your mind a mush as you try to process every word that he said effortlessly. It was like it was rehearsed, and you wonder what bounces around his own mind now, as his truck starts and peels out of your driveway, leaving the rest of fate in your clammy, tear soaked hands.

——

Tagging; @gothguitargal @babyboy-cody @madamaholmes @walkxthexmoon @yesloverboy @billofourtime @kathryn-jane @jadelynlace @multi-fan-lover @shenevertricks1831

I tagged people who originally asked for part two way back, as well as new people who enjoyed it, if you read it and made it this far, I can’t thank you enough for your continued support🥺❤️

[svnshinebooks]

Thank you to @foxingfae for tagging me to answer these 21 Qs!!!

1. Nickname? Becca, Becky, B

2. Real name? Rebecca

3. Zodiac sign? Virgo

4. Height? 5′2″ (she smol!)

5. What time is it? 2:58 PM

6. Favourite musician/artist? ariana grande, little mix, taylor swift, selena gomez - i am that girl & i have no regrets

7. Favourite sports team? i’m not a huge sports person but i guess the Toronto Maple Leafs (NHL)

8. Other blogs? my book fandom / art / crack posts blog is @svnshinefandoms , i also have a tv fandom blog @ginas-opinion (mostly B99, ODAAT, New Girl, Parks & Rec), & i have a few other blogs but they’re real messy

9. Do you get asks? rarely

10. How many blogs do you follow? currently 210

11. Tumblr crushes? @foxingfae @bookaddict24-7 @dropdeadfemme @peachesobviously @just0nemorepage @mooberrypies @treat-yo-shelves-17 & a lot more!!!

12. Lucky number? 10

13. What are you wearing right now? grey sweater, black sweatpants

14. Dream vacation? Ireland

15. Dream car? a car that’s the exact same as a Tesla but doesn’t give money to that guy

16. Favourite food? bread - pain au chocolat, Yorkshire pudding, sourdough bread, scones, French toast....

17. Drink of choice? can I say tea? all tea?

18. Languages? English, French, and a bit of Latin

19. Instruments? nope

20. Celebrity crushes? lately my biggest crushes are Isabella Gomez and Tom Holland (yes, we’ve established that i’m basic)

21. Random fact? While adults usually have 206 complete bones, babies have around 300 incomplete bones at birth. 

Tagging: i’m not sure who wants to this but if you see this and want to do it please do & say i tagged you!!!!

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 3

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

(Photo made by my lovey friend @bakketsux)

A/N: This chapter took me way longer than I thought it would since I tried a new writing style, I really hope it comes across better than the last chapters and I hope you guys like it as much as I do.

As I start to wake up I feel the heaviness of my quilt blanket over me, the warmth a pleasant contrast to the chill air in my room from the window I was to tired to close last night. I feel the bruises on my wrist from last night as I reach up to rub the sleep from my eyes. I look over to my bedside table and see the time, it reads 7:24 a.m. I’m shocked by the fact that I’m not as tired as I thought considering we got back at 3 in the morning and that I got up a few times in the night. I get up and walk to my drawers where all my clothes lay, I change out of the large night shirt I slept in that I’m almost positive is Roy’s, and slip on a black tank top with some jeans and a sweatshirt that I got last week. I look out my window when I hear movement finding it was nothing but a bird looking in, I walk over to the window and shut it so the bird can’t get in even though there’s a screen and shut the blinds once again. I wince when I bend down to grab my suit off the floor, as last night I was way to tired to even bother putting it away properly. Last night was a bit of a rougher night, it was supposed to be just a grab intel and head out, but there was some watch men that we hadn’t accounted for and one hit me in the ribs. I swear Jason was gonna have a heart attack and die again when we got back and he saw how bad the bruise forming. I go out of the room and see Jason in the kitchen with presumably eggs on the pan. “Hey ange, sleep well last night?” “Sure if you count waking up 3 times to go pee then sure I did jay jay” I say with a chuckle “you’d think you’d stop drinking an entire bottle of water right before bed then Huh” he says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as he sets a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. “So how is it being out on patrol?” “It’s alright, unless you count the football size bruises then those are just peachy!” I saw with sarcasm “I think you enjoy it more than you let on ange” “and you assume that why?” “You seem to enjoy yourself when the little batdemon is around” “I do not! He’s got a large stick up his ass and acts like someone pissed in his cereal every morning.” “Then why the snarky comments and the jokes towards him?” “I never said it wasn’t funny to watch him have a meltdown when I do. Only time he’s entertaining.” “Alrighty then, keep telling yourself that little one” he says with a wink, I finish the last piece of my toast and get up to the sink. “Hey do you mind if I go for a jog to the park?” “How old are you?” “I’m 18?” “You’re an adult, you don’t have to ask me to go for a run, you’re capable to defend yourself, can you just do me a favor and pick up more milk on the way back, Roy keeps bitching that we run out so often” “aye aye Capitan!” I say as I head out the door, before I shut it I hear Jason’s laugh Ecco across the apartment. I start my walk to the park that’s 3 blocks away and plug in my headphones to play some music.

Time skip

I get to the park and see plenty of people raging from small children running around to elderly couples on a bench. I get to a large tree and start my jog around the spacious park, when I’ve finished my second lap around I see a large dog running beside me, it looks to be a Great Dane. I stop my run and crouch down to pet the large dog and he starts panting happily as I rub behind his ears “hi pretty baby and who might you be?” I coo at it as he site down with his tongue hanging from his mouth “awwee aren’t you the cutest thing in the world! You’re just a big ole baby who loves the scritches, oohhh the wonderful scritches!” “Titus!” I hear a voice yell behind me. I turn towards it and see a guy that’s presumably around my age with a large frame, jet black hair with a tan complexion. “Oh is this your dog?” I ask “yes, I don’t understand why he’d run off like that especially to a complete stranger.” There’s a time of Arrogance to his voice. “He’s a beautiful dog” he looks at me with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk, “thank you, we have to get going I have a meeting to attend in 30 minutes.” We both stand up and I put my hand out. “Okay then. Have a good day sir” he takes a hold of my hand with a firm but not crushing grip “My name is Damian, Damian Wayne.” “Nice to meet you, Most people call me ange.” Him and Titus start to walk away but but he turns to take one last look at me. As he walks away I can’t help but feel like I know him from somewhere, I don’t dwell on it as I run one more lap around the park before I decide to head to the store to pick up some groceries.

As I’m walking up the stairs to our apartment i hear Jason and Roy talking through the door. “I’m heading out to go check out that new bar downtown after I go see a friend, Apparently the owner is a new mob leader and they’re smuggling stuff in the back.” “You’d think that for the job we have you guys would keep your voices down a bit” I saw when I walk in. “Well we’ve got old lady Ethel who’s hearing aid broke in the 90s, and the Christian couple down the hall who blasts Christmas music in July.” “Who knows Ethel could be a spy.” I say with a wink. “Always so worried little one” as Roy is leaving he ruffles my hair with a chuckle and I attempt to smooth it back down. “And how was your run?” “Pretty good, I picked up the milk and got more bread too.” “Thank god cause Roy was pissy when he got up cause god forbid he couldn’t make cereal.” “I swear he complains more than an old lady sometimes” I laugh. “So what did you do besides running?” “Oh we getting to the Interrogating side of parenting?” “No I’m just curious is all.” “Well I met this guy with his dog, he seemed nice.” “Ohh and who’s the guys name?” “I don’t need to tell you everything you know, I’m a fully grown adult now. Besides I’ll probably never see him again.” I say jokingly as I plop a marshmallow in my mouth. “Alright then, I totally won’t do a background check and find out who he is though.” He says with a wink. “Good luck there jay.” I walk into my room and grab my suit to go wash it for tonight.

Time skip to that night

As we walk down the hallway the lights grow dimmer until the only source of light in the room is from the moon coming in from the brown windows. The air wreaked of old water pipes decaying along with a heavy smell of just an old building. We hear little to nothing in the rotting building that is housing one of the largest shipment of crack and heroin in the city. As I look around I see old pipes that are falling apart and Machinery that looks to have been broken for decades, dust collected around majority of them. We near a room that has 2 large garage like doors, when we near we hear what sounds to be grunting from the room, Jason and I raising our guns as we approach the room. When we get it we see men on the ground and obviously unconscious, as they appear to be breathing still. “We got it from here.” We hear from the corner as Batman approaches us. “Looks like there’s no killing for either one of you tonight.” I look over and see robin beside Batman with a proud shit eating smirk. “Keep talking like that and I’ll have 1.” “Oh really you think you could kill me?” “I mean I am the one with the gun. And you’ve got a Sword that looks like it came from party city.” “Why you little-“ “ROBIN!” Batman grabs him before he could get to me. “Awe does batsy neee to hold you down when you throw a temper tantrum little one?” Robin frees from Batman and grabs ahold of me and slams me into the wall behind me “I will fucking end you if you don’t shut up!” He says as he grabs a hold of my neck. “Ooo second time you’ve tried chocking me, I knew you liked it kinky” his face flashes from anger to disgust and his grip loosens, I take my gun and slam it on the side of his head and kick him back and slam him to the wall and put my gun to his face “try that again and I’ll fill you with so much led that your own family won’t Recognize who you are.” I walk away from him. As Jason and I leave and get on his bike he takes a look at me “what was that all about?” “He’s fucking insufferable.” “You’ve got no idea.”

@comic-nerd-dc @psychovigilantewrites

[softboywriting]

Holding Fire | Shawn Mendes | Firefighter AU

Summary: Shawn is the newest member of Fire Station 15′s crew and he’s a hot one. It’s not long before you and Shawn hit it off and start an amazing new relationship. Will it last or go up in flames? [firefighter au] [slight angst] [fluff] 

Word Count: 18k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you were ten years old you watched your father’s bakery burn to the ground. When you were sixteen years old you watched your house burn to the ground. Now at twenty two you work at the deli across the street from the fire station that responded to both of those fires and saved you and your families lives. Two of the older firefighters and your father's ex coworkers, Mike and Jack, both stayed in contact with you and became like family to you and your sister after your father died when you were nineteen.

The owner of the deli is Mike, now an ex firefighter, and he hired you just after your dad passed away. The deli is nice and small, you have a few tables for eat in guests and you serve sandwiches and breakfast made to order on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s a local hang out for a lot of the town’s police officers and firefighters and it really feels like home. You have gotten to know everybody by name, you’ve memorized their orders and you even keep up with their personal lives as they come in and talk about their day while you make their lunches. Nothing ever changed much in your little town, not until you watched Shawn walk through the doors of the deli one day, Fire and Safety Station 15 shirt tight across his chest. That day...well...it was something.

______________

“Has lover boy stopped in yet today?” Mariel, your best friend and colleague asks from where she is wiping down the cutting boards after slicing up some lettuce for the upcoming lunch rush. “I heard he couldn’t stop staring at you the other day.”

“Mariel! That is not true! Who told you that?” you laugh and she just zips her lips. “Oh you’re the worst. But no, he hasn’t come in today. It’s not even lunchtime yet, he’s probably out working.”

“Oh yes, out saving kittens from trees and kissing babies!” Mariel cackles as she heads to the back room to grab some bread to put in the oven. “Oh Shawn, please, come rescue me!”

You turn scarlet and throw a towel at her. “Stop it! You’re so mean!”

“You’re so single. Get his number, or I will.”

“Mariel you wouldn’t.” She raises her eyebrows as if to challenge your statement. “Mare, you better not. You know I like him and that would be-”

Someone clears their throat at the order counter behind you and you turn around to see Shawn standing there with a flushed face and mess of wet curls on his head. “Could I order?” he smiles, biting his lip.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” you splutter, grabbing your order pad and a pen out of your pocket.

“Long enough to know you were arguing about a guy?” Shawn laughs and you let out a sigh. He hadn’t heard his name. Thank god.

You put your pen and pad on the counter and start scribbling down the orders Shawn gives you for the guys at the station. “And what would you like?” you ask, looking up to see he is smiling at you.

“Actually, I’d like you to make me something today. Your favorite?”

“Yeah?” you giggle and he crosses his arms, making that oh so fitted tee pull across his chest. “You think you can handle my favorite?”

Shawn bites his lip and chuckles. “I think I can handle it, just no tuna please. I’m not wild on tuna salad sandwiches.”

“Damn, my favorite is the tuna.”

“Really?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No! No really. Tuna is gross. Alright, one special of the day.” You scribble it down on your order pad and clip it up on the sandwich station. Mariel comes over and helps you to prepare meats on the slicer for the sandwiches while Shawn leans with his arms folded against the high counter where the toppings are all displayed for easy choosing.

“He’s staring at you,” Mariel whispers and you clench your jaw. “I think he is looking at your ass.”

“Mariel, I’m going to slice my hand if you don’t stop distracting me.”

“I’m just saying, he’s staring right over the counter like a love sick puppy dog.”

You turn around to grab a new ham from the cold case under the topping station and you’re met with Shawn staring, just like Mariel said. “Was there something else you needed?” you ask and Shawn shakes his head. “Just curious?”

“Very curious.”

Mariel turns around and grins. “Curious enough to ask for her number?”

Shawn turns bright red and looks between the two of you. “Well I-I really meant I was curious about what kind of sandwich she's making me.”

“It's a special. Don't worry about it,” you smile teasingly and Shawn drops his head against the top of the case. “I know what you like.”

“Damn girl,” Mariel clucks, elbowing your side. “He's gonna turn into a tomato if you keep up that flirting.”

From the counter behind you, you hear a mumbled “too late” and you know it's Shawn still hiding his face in his arms. He was so cute, a grown man but still somehow boyishly cute. Ugh. Perfect.

You prepare Shawn's sandwich the way you like yours on your lunch break. A classic Italian with extra pepperoni, olive moufletta and spicy brown mustard, toasted. You're sure he will love it. He always got the Italian cold or the French dipped roast beef with extra onion and pepper relish. You had to admit, the guy had good taste in sandwiches. Unlike some guys who came in and they looked cute but their plain turkey with American cheese and mayo turned you way off. Bland eats what bland is.

Mariel helps you sack up the sandwiches and label them according to the list Shawn gave you. She spares you any further embarrassment or attempts at flirting and rings him up while you clean up the slicer and building station. That doesn't stop Shawn from saying goodbye, smiling and tucking a ten dollar bill into the tip jar on his way out.

“You gotta get that man tied down,” Mariel says as she watches him jog across the street. “He's too fine to be the one that got away.”

You wipe your hands on your apron and shrug. “Well...I dunno. I'm just a little wary about him. Like where did he come from? We know everyone in town and this mysterious stranger just appears and has an interest in me? I dunno.”

Mariel rolls her eyes. “You're such a weirdo. If you need to know his whole life story why don't you ask him out?”

“I can't! I mean look at him!”

“Look at you! Damn he thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread! Come on girl read the signals, they're saying, date me date me in big flashing red letters!” Mariel flashes her hands out in front of you for emphasis. “Don't. Let. Him. Slip. Away.”

“Okay! Fine. This weekend is the annual firehouse block party. I'll try to talk to him then.”

“You better or else I'm going to find some way to trap you in a room with him so you have no choice.”

“I will. I promise.”

__________________

Station 15’s annual block party was the event of the summer. It was held at the end of August every year rain or shine and always included live music, barbecue, dancing, games, you name it. Ever since you were little you could remember going to it. The real fun started after the kids went home and it was just the adults in the firehouse drinking and shooting the shit with each other. You remember how your dad would always talk for hours with Mike and Jack, sending you and your sister home with the babysitter for the night. It wasn't until you were eighteen that you were allowed to stay, and even then it was mostly older towns people who stuck around.

These days there was a lot more of a younger crowd, people in their twenties like you are. All your friends having come back from college or having already graduated. The party is bigger now, with families growing every year it seemed. You love it, seeing everyone so happy and together. Usually you'd end up playing games with the young kids because they always looped you into their shenanigans, but this year you had a different agenda. One with Shawn written all over it.

“Can I get a whiskey ginger?” You call out to the guy with his back to you at the bar that is set up inside the firehouse garage. He turns and you find it's none other than Shawn.

“Hey,” he beams, smile going ear to ear. “I didn't know if I'd see you tonight.”

“Ah yeah, I come every year. What about you? Why are you bartending?”

Shawn grabs a bottle of whiskey and starts preparing your drink. “Well I volunteered while the actual bartender stepped out to get some more ice. He should be back soon.”

“Do you know what you're doing?” You chuckle as he accidentally pours the soda all over the little wooden countertop.

“Shit,” he mumbles, wiping it up quick. “I do know what I'm doing surprisingly. Bar tending put me through college,” he chuckles, passing you your drink in it's red solo cup.

You raise your eyebrows. A firefighter who was a bartender who possibly has a degree. What kind of dream boat were you dealing with. “That's interesting, what'd you go to college for?”

“Nothing really, I ended up just going to a community college in Ashland for two years before I decided I hated it. A friend of mine got me into the fire academy and here I am.”

“Wow, you like it though? Firefighting?”

Shawn makes himself a whiskey ginger as well and places it next to yours on the counter top. “It has its days but it's generally very rewarding.”

The bartender returns with a bag of ice that he pours into a cooler. You recognize him to be a guy you went to high school with that you're pretty sure your sister dated. You don't want to hash that past out so you grab your drink and lead Shawn over to a couple of lawn chairs set up for the fireworks show.

“How bout you? College?” Shawn asks as he sinks into the chair beside you. He takes a sip and smiles expectantly.

You shake your head. “College wasn't really on the table for me when I graduated. My sister and I had a hard time after our house burnt down when I was in high school. Then not too long after I graduated my dad died so, it just...it was hell for a few years there.”

“Oh, wow. I didn't realize that I had brought up such a sore subject I'm so sorry.”

You take a sip and lean back in your chair. Your dad's passing still hurt, even three years later and it still felt like just a few months ago. You missed him, especially during things like this, things he helped set up in the community. “No, it's fine. It's been three years now. Cait and I are surviving, I've got the deli and my side business. She got married last year and has a kid on the way.”

“Side business?”

“Yeah, I bake. My dad was a great baker, he started late in life after an accident as a firefighter messed up his leg, had his own place and everything. It burned down, but he reopened a year later. When he passed I couldn't run it alone and Cait had already moved out of town and was starting her own life. We closed up and I started work at the deli while baking on the side, mostly catering small events.”

Shawn crosses his arms and just looks at you. In awe of you it would seem. “You've survived two fires? Damn. My story isn't half as interesting.”

“Oh yeah? Spill your guts.”

“Well, I graduated and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I took a few classes at the community college just to get some credits out of the way y’know. I picked up bartending with a friend at a bar in downtown Ashland for some extra cash. I did that for about two years before realizing I hated everything about college and the stress caused me ulcers. Another friend of mine had just joined the fire academy and I figured why not? Turned out I was pretty good at saving people.”

“So you never dreamed of being a firefighter? Like as a kid?”

“Nah, never. I wanted to be a doctor but I couldn't commit. Too much responsibility and too many years of school. I guess I just wanted to help people, and this job is just as rewarding and important as being a doctor.”

You glance over and he has his head back, watching the stars appear in the darkening sky overhead. His profile is amazing, strong jaw, perfectly shaped nose and soft lips. He was living art and you're not drunk enough to be admiring him this way. “That's pretty deep,” you say over a sip of your drink. “Do you always pour your heart out to women you like?”

Shawn chuckles as his smile grows wide, a flush on his cheeks. “I don't but I guess you're easy to talk to.”

“Yeah? You're easy to talk to too.”

A loud noise from your left makes you jump and you see a big glowing ball shoot into the air. It's the first firework and it pops, showering the sky with purple and blue light. Shawn downs the rest of his drink and stands, moving his chair right beside you instead of a foot or two away. You don't say anything about the boldness but you like it. He was definitely one worth pursuing.

______________

Sunday. You're still feeling the effects of the block party as you walk to work. You rarely drank enough to get drunk but when you did, whew, you sure did. You and Shawn had ended up meeting up with a couple of the other firefighters and staying up until well after midnight drinking and chatting. It was the most fun you've had in ages and the residual gross body and headache was well worth it.

“So you and hot stuff get together?” Mariel asks as you slip your apron over your head to start the day. “I saw you two in the firehouse drinking and giggling.”

“No,” you chuckle, grabbing some sausage from the fridge to get it started for breakfast. “Shawn walked me home and we parted ways at my doorstep. Like a gentleman.”

“Right but did he kiss you?”

“Mariel, come on! He didn't kiss me. He just said goodnight and went home.”

Mariel snorts. “Do you think he's...”

You sigh and send her a look that could cut glass. “No. I don't think he is gay. He was plenty interested in me and it is not like the time that I read everything completely wrong with William Hannover.” You flip your sausage patty angrily, hitting the flattop with a little more force than necessary with your spatula. Just the idea of going through the embarrassment like you did with William was enough to piss you off. “God, just because he didn't kiss me after one night doesn't mean he's gay. I'll have you know he was-”

Mariel eyes go wide and she mouths “Shawn” and points to the front counter. You turn slowly and Shawn is standing there. He looks like he's just gotten out of the shower, cheeks rosy and hair a little damp and wildly curly on top. His shirt is threatening to rip over his biceps as he puts his arms up on the counter. That must be some damn good cotton stretch fabric. He raises his eyebrows at you. God only knows how long he was standing there but clearly heard you going off.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “And for the record, I am not gay.”

“Oh my God.” You feel like you could just die. Just shrivel up and blow away like a tumbleweed. “I don't think- I mean Mariel just said that because you didn't kiss me...not that you needed to because...fuck.” You put your hand over your flushed face. What a complete ass you've made of yourself. “I've just had a misunderstanding in the past and it's really stupid and-”

“It's okay. I'm not offended or something. I just didn't kiss you because we were drunk, and I don't think anyone should do anything if they're not fully aware and consenting.” Shawn brings his hand up to prop up his chin as he stares at you, smiling around his words. “I actually came by to see if you'd like to go on a date.”

Mariel steps in and grabs the spatula from you. She pushes you toward Shawn with a “I'll worry about the food, go talk to him.”

You walk up to the counter and bite your lip. A date huh? Were you up for that? Maybe. “What kind of date?”

“Dinner? Walk on the beach? Matching tattoos?” He smirks at the last one and you narrow your eyes.

“Dinner is fine. Casual or fancy?”

“Is casual okay? Your choice of restaurant.”

You take a deep breath and smile. “Okay, casual it is. Meet me at The Crab Shack?”

“Tonight or this weekend?”

“This weekend is good. Saturday around six?”

“Perfect. Now, can I get some breakfast or...”

“Oh shit,” you feel around your apron for your order pad. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Shawn laughs. “Take your time, it's a big order. All the guys want something.”

_____________________

Wednesday. You wake up and you just know it's going to be a shitty day. When you look at the calendar and see the date, you know exactly why. It's been a year since you broke up with your ex, Brodie Douglas. Six months you dated him and it seemed serious, you were sure he was gonna be the one you settled down with. Until you caught him in your bed with another girl. It was disgusting. You actually took your mattress to the dump after that and used your savings to buy a new one.

You hadn't seen Brodie since then. The day he left your house he was gone for good. He didn't live in town, he lived closer to Ashland about an hour away. It hurt, still sort of hurt to be honest and every guy since him had been a real flop too. Until Shawn. He actually seemed to have some respect for women and other human beings in general.

You push your thoughts aside, putting the past in the past where it belongs. You had work to do, people to see, a life to live. A life without any assholes in it.

You get in the shower, hot steam filling the bathroom. Your favorite body wash is almost out and you sigh, filling it halfway with hot water and shaking up the remains. That sucked. You definitely didn't want to make a trip into Ashland just to go to the bath and body works. The cab fare alone would dig into your savings. Regular drugstore body wash it would be then.

Midway through soaping up your hair you hear a knock on your front door. You figure if you ignore them they'll probably go away. Besides if it was someone you know then they could text or call you before coming over. You continue washing and the knocking returns.

“Okay fucking really,” you mutter, snatching your towel off the rack and going to the front door. Your hair is dripping wet and there is soap in your left eye. This person better really need something. “Hello?” You ask sharply as you pull open your front door to the cold morning air.

The person on your porch turns and your stomach drops. It's Brodie. His hair has grown out, he looks like he's gained a few pounds and by Gods he's so ugly. Why the fuck were you ever with him? Did he always look like this? Fucking hell.

“Hey, long time no see,” he smiles weakly.

“Goodbye.” You slam the door in his face and flip the lock. This was a joke right? He was going to show up a year later on the day you kicked him out? This had to be some sick joke. What kind of psychopath was he?

“Wait! I need to talk to you!” Brodie yells through the door and you turn to go back to your shower. If he thought you wanted to hear a single word out of his mouth then he was gravely mistaken. “God you're such a bitch!”

You take your time getting ready for work, blow drying your hair and putting on your lotion far slower than you ever would regularly. You want to make sure he is gone before you leave the house. At a quarter till 7 you peek out your front curtains. His car is still parked across the street. The same piece of shit Honda he had before. Great.

You leave the house out the back and jump your neighbors fence to cut across the yards to the intersecting street that lead to the deli. You're sure Brodie is going to notice you haven't left the house and he'll come searching for you eventually, figuring out you snuck out the back. You'd deal with that when you came to it.

Surprisingly work goes smoothly for the most of the morning. You don't mention Brodie to Mariel because you know she will hunt him down and probably knife him. She was there for you after the break up and dealt with the fallout with you. She hated Brodie about as much as you did. It's not until lunch that shit hits the fan.

You're in the middle of making an order for the station that Jeremy called in a little after noon when Brodie appears. You've just finished an italian sub and you look up the see Brodie standing there at the counter.

“Hey, come on, hand me the...” Mariel trails off as she turns to see what was taking you so long. “What the fuck do you want?” She sneers, eyes boring a hole through Brodie and into the back wall.

“I need to talk to you,” Brodie says completely disregarding Mariel's existence. “I wanted to talk about-”

“Yeah I really wanna talk to you after you called me a bitch this morning.”

Mariel steps around in front of you and grabs the lettuce knife out of it's holder on the counter. She rests her arm casually up on the top of the countertop window, knife dangling oh so threateningly. “Listen buddy. If she wanted to talk to you, she'd give you a call. You fucked up, you don't get a second chance.”

“Please I just want to apologise. It wasn't me, I wasn't myself back then or at the house today,” he says, leaning to look past Mariel to where you've turned your back to him.

“Fuck off,” Mariel growls. “Or you're going to be the special of the day.”

“I'm not talking to you bitch,” Brodie sneers at her and pushes off the counter, knocking the tip jar to the ground where it shatters. “I'll see you later then,” he says and he slams the door behind him, the bell chiming harshly throughout the deli.

Marel drops the knife in it's holder and puts her arm around you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. “Thanks. He showed up at the house this morning but I shut the door on him. I knew he'd be back but I just...I just wasn't ready.”

“No no, it's okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Mare. I hope he gets the hint y'know?”

“Yeah or else.”

_____________

Brodie doesn't get the hint because he's about as thick as an oak door when it comes to reading situations. It's 3pm and you're heading home, watching for Brodie's car as you exit the deli, hand on the pepper spray in your pocket. Not that you think Brodie would try anything but you never know. You're crossing the street toward the fire station when you see him. He's heading toward you on foot as if he had been waiting at the park catty corner to the deli.

You know exactly where to go. The firehouse. All the guys knew you, it would be safer than walking alone with Brodie following you. You keep your eyes locked on the side door to the garage where the trucks are kept. It was always unlocked while the guys were in house. You had delivered sandwiches a few times. You can hear Brodie getting closer, his boots scraping on the pavement behind you.

The door opens just as you get to it and you push past Jeremy, the current station manager. Jeremy mumbles a quiet “What the hell?” But you don't waste time explaining.

Shawn is sitting on one of the old sofas in the living area that is open to the garage and he looks up as you make a bee line for him. He was safe. He would keep Brodie out. You know it. “Hey, what's going on,” he asks and stands up, circling the sofa to meet you.

“I...can you take me home?”

“Yeah, you okay?” Shawn lays his hand on your arm and rubs up to your shoulder. “You look pretty shaken.”

“Was that guy bothering you?” Jeremy asks as he walks into the living area. “I saw him following you and then turn away when you came in.”

You glance over at Jeremy and shake your head. “Yeah, he's nobody. It's fine. I just need a ride.”

“No, was he bothering you?” Shawn asks, stepping past you and heading to the door. “I can go talk to him. No, y'know what, I'm gonna.”

“Shawn don't.” You follow after him but his stride is longer and he is already opening the door. It's half closed by the time you get to it and when you go out you can see Shawn walking across the driveway towards Brodie who's heading back to the park. “Shawn! Stop!”

You jog over just as Shawn reaches Brodie. “Hey, you,” Shawn barks and Brodie turns around.

You grab Shawn's arm and pull him but it's no use. He's far bigger than you in every way. There is no way you can hold him back, he's over six feet of basically pure muscle. His arm flexes under your grip and you can't help but squeeze tighter. “Shawn, please.”

“The fuck do you want dude?” Brodie asks, eyes going to you and then to your hands around Shawn's arm, and finally to Shawn's face.

“You better leave her alone, and stop following girls home.”

Brodie scoffs. “I wasn't following her home. I just need to discuss some private business with her.”

“Yeah, that seems like it would have been a very one sided conversation if she came to the firehouse to get away from you.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway? Her fuckin body guard?”

“Brodie, just go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. We're done, it's over. It's been a year, move on dude. I have.” You step back so you're more behind Shawn. For some reason you're very uncomfortable with Brodie. Something about him wasn't right.

Brodie clicks his tongue and lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh I see what this is. He's your boyfriend right? Got yourself a firefighter in case your house burns down again?”

That hurt. Like a punch to the gut. You don't have time to snap back at him because Shawn's arm is pulling away from yours and colliding with his face. The sound is sickening and you're sure Brodie's nose is broken. He drops like a sack of potatoes, crumpling to his knees on the pavement holding his face.

“Let's go,” Shawn says, shaking his hand out and putting his arm around you to walk you away. “I'll drive you home.”

“You hit him, Shawn, you just punched him!”

“Yeah because he was being an asshole. Don't act like you didn't think about doing it yourself.”

You try to look back, not out of concern, but out of curiosity. Shawn turns your head back forwards and keeps walking you toward his truck parked in the stations lot. “Is he going to be okay?”

Shawn shrugs. “Listen,” he stops with you by the passenger side of the truck. “If you wanna go back and see if he's okay, be my guest. Somehow I really don't think you're going to though. Now can you get in the truck so I can take you home?”

You look back and Brodie is still on the ground. Fuck no you weren't going to go over there. He was an asshole and frankly Shawn was right. You had thought about punching him in his stupid face since the day you found him cheating. Yeah your punch probably would not have done nearly as much damage and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't just as gratifying to have Shawn punch him for you. Maybe he'd get the hint now.

Shawn clicks to unlock his truck on his key fob and you open the door to climb up and in. It's really nice, clean inside like it was new and big. Fitting for a guys Shawn's size. Somehow you don't think it's an overcompensation thing. Shawn gets in and starts it up, pulling out of the lot and passing Brodie who is now up and heading toward the park again. You get just barely a glimpse but you could tell his face is a gruesome scene. Suits him. The ugly prick.

Shawn drops you off, walking you up to your door and making sure you get inside okay. You highly doubt that Brodie would come after you for any reason but honestly you couldn't be one hundred percent sure. He seemed to have snapped and lost his mind in the last year.

“You sure you're gonna be okay? I can stay a while just in case,” Shawn says leaning against the doorway. “I don't mind.”

“No, it's fine. I don't think he's going to bother me anymore. If he shows up I'll call the cops.”

“Yeah, good idea. But just in case I'll give you my number.”

You raise your eyebrows. He was slick. Just working that number exchange right in there like that. “Alright, okay,” you smile, shaking your head as you pull out your phone and he tells you his number. “I'll text you if I need you.”

“What's your number?” He asks, pulling his own phone out of his cargo pocket.

You shake your head. “I'll text you if I need you. Then you'll get my number.”

Shawn smiles, chuckling just a little. He thought he was slick, well, you were slicker. “Alright then. I see how it is. Well, have a good night. Be safe.”

“Yes sir,” you murmur with a little salute as you grab the door and close it with a goodnight. Letting him in was tempting but you think maybe you oughta have a first date before he gets to see the inside of your place. You'd learned your lesson about diving head first into relationships already.

___________________

Saturday. You're sitting on a bench outside the crab shack waiting for Shawn to show up. It's a calm night, breezy and a little chilly. Enough to warrant a light jacket. You mentally note to ask for a inside table and not one on the deck. The restaurant is fairly busy, Saturday night being a popular date and family night apparently. You're not too surprised though. You used to work weekends bussing tables here in high school for about a year before things went to shit with your house and your dad falling ill.

You sigh, looking up at the big decorative crab that held onto the sign over the front doors. As a kid you always begged your dad to lift you up to touch it. It wasn't until you were eight that you ever actually reached it. How satisfying that day was.

“Hey.”

You turn and look to see who's calling out and you see Shawn walking up in a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. “Oh, hey, you made it.”

“Of course I did. Whatcha looking at?” He asks, nodding toward the sign.

“Oh nothing. Just the crab. I used to beg my dad to lift me up to touch it.” You chuckle at how ridiculous that sounds now. “Come on, let's go inside.”

Shawn lets you lead the way along the sidewalk and up to the doors. As you approach the doors a pair of hands wrap around your waist and suddenly you're being lifted up. You let out a shriek and you hear Shawn laughing.

“Touch the crab!” He says, hardly audible through his laughter.

You reach out and touch the lowest dangling leg and he brings you down quickly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh you know you wanted to touch the crab.”

You smack his chest and he giggles, jumping back to avoid further assault. “Okay, okay I'll warn you next time.”

“Oh so you think there's gonna be a next time?”

“A guy can hope right?”

“Right,” you roll your eyes and walk into the restaurant, Shawn hot on your heels.

The two of you are seated right away in a booth that had a window out to the deck. You chat a little bit about how the firehouse is pretty slow and Shawn mostly naps all day or works out. The waiter comes and takes your orders. You get a burger with a side salad and Shawn gets the shrimp linguine. He makes fun of you for not getting seafood at the seafood restaurant but it's all in good fun. You both know the burgers are just as killer as the seafood and he really can't blame you.

“So, how'd you end up here?” You ask, sipping on your strawberry lemonade.

“The firehouse was looking to hire on a few guys and I was looking to get a job.”

“So you grew up in Ashland?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, I grew up in Benton. I just went to the community college in Ashland.”

“Benton? The farm town?”

“Yeah, my parents are soybean farmers. I am a farm kid,” he chuckles, looking out the window. “What a shocker I know.”

“Not really. You definitely aren't like any of the guys from the city I've ever known. I guess you were probably raised better than a lot of them though.”

“I dunno. I mean my parents instilled a lot of values into me as a kid, but I got into my fair share of trouble and I had my less than graceful moments growing up.”

You shrug. “I think we all have had our moments in our youth, it's whether or not you learn from them and grow up that matters.”

“You're right, that's a good way of putting it. Damn did I learn some hard lessons though. What about you? Are you from here?”

“Yep. Born and raised here. My parents were both bakers, my mom passed away shortly after I was born so I never really knew her.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no it's fine,” you pause, stirring your lemonade. “Cait, my sister, was like a mom to me growing up. Well, as motherly as she could be. She's only five years older.”

“You said your parents were bakers, that's what you like to do too right?”

“Yeah. I have all my dad's recipes and I'd love to have my own place one day but that's a far off dream. For now I just cater small events and I have a Facebook page.”

The food arrives and your conversation slows as you eat but quickly picks back up as you start discussing the food and trying each other's meals. Shawn tells you about the first time he came to the crab shack with the guys from the station. They ordered two crab boils and ate out on the deck on the long party tables. You'd done it once before for Mike’s birthday a few years back.

The night dwindles down and your pack up what's left of your burger and a few of Shawn's shrimps that he saved for you. He pays, refusing to show you the bill and saying don't worry about it even though you insisted on splitting the cost.

Shawn drives you home, walking you to your door like he had done each time he had taken you home before. This time though you don't go inside right away, you linger on the porch.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You're welcome, I hope you had fun. I know I did.”

“It was great. And thanks again, y'know for the other day with Brodie.”

Shawn crosses his arms and chuckles, looking down as he kicks the toes of his boots against your doormat. “Of course. Anytime. I don't mind punching a douchebag.”

“Fuck, oh my god no!” You laugh, pushing his shoulder. “I meant thank you for being there for me in general. I don't want you punching people.”

“Right, right. But you kinda liked it, I know you did because you had a little triumphant smile on your face the whole way home afterwards.” He reaches out and pinches your cheek. “Just a cute little smirk right here.”

“Quit it!” You giggle, batting at his arm.

He flattens his hand and cups your jaw, instantly changing the whole mood from playful to intimate. His fingers brush against the nape of your neck, thumb smoothing over the little chicken pox scar on your cheek from when you were very little. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly, stepping closer so there's but a few inches between you.

“You're not too bad yourself.”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” Shawn asks, eyes heavy on your lips.

You give a little nod and he leans in. His lips are soft against yours and he caresses the back of your head. It's easily the tenderest kiss you've ever received and it leaves you a little speechless.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You nod numbly, the feeling of his lips lingering as he steps off the porch. He crosses the yard and gets into his truck. You're left there, nerves memorizing the feel of his hand in your hair, his palm on your cheek, his lips on your lips. You never want to snap out of it, you want to stay like this forever.

______________________

For the next few days Shawn stops in for meals for the firehouse. He always chats a bit, making you giggle and flush. Mariel loves to tease you endlessly when he leaves but you can't care because he makes you so happy. Shawn hasn't mentioned a second date yet and you don't want to bring it up in case he doesn't want to, though you're sure he does. You suspect he may be giving you space after the Brodie incident.

You have an event to cater on Thursday. A baby shower in town for your ex coworker Cara. She has asked for three dozen baby boot shaped cookies in blue icing and a small cake with blue iced middle an a white outside. A classic gender reveal cake. You start work on Tuesday so you can be ready to go on Wednesday evening. It's a fairly simple order.

Thursday after work you head to the party, driving Mariel's car to transport the baked goods safely. You arrive and the mother to be, Cara, is elated with the cookies and cake. She helps you set up the cake on a stand and get the cookies into a little box she had on hand to keep them a secret until the reveal.

You're on the deck outback talking to an old friend from high school when you hear a familiar voice. Shawn. You turn and look through a small crowd of people and see him, towering over everyone by the sliding glass doors. He is hugging Cara, and holds up a little bag with a bow on it. So he knows Cara, small world.

“Hey you,” Shawn grins, catching your eye and walking over after greeting Cara. “What're you doing here?”

“I could ask the same.”

“Cara is my cousin.”

“Ohh. I know her because she used to work at the deli. Wow such a small world.”

Shawn chuckles. “Very small. Can I get you a drink?”

“I'm good. Thanks though. How's work been? I know you said you had a call on Monday and that's why you didn't come in for lunch.”

“Yeah, it wasn't much. Just some punk kids setting fire in a trash can at the high school. Everything was fine.” Shawn follows you as you walk into the house because Cara is gathering everyone around for cake and cookies before starting the baby shower games. “How bout you?”

“Usual, work and then going home.”

“No word from Brodie?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. I think he got the message to leave me alone.” You take a seat on a stool in the kitchen while everyone gathers around Cara at the table in the attached dining area. “Have you been keeping your distance because of Brodie?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows. “I've been keeping my distance?”

You shrug.

“Is this because I haven't asked you out again? Because Brodie has nothing to do with that. I promise I want to go out again but I've been covering Ryan's over nights at the station. His wife is sick and I volunteered to help him out.”

“You've been working twenty four hours?”

“More like seventy two hours almost. I got this evening off since Ryan wasn't scheduled.”

“You are gonna crash. I know you can take naps at the station but still, it's not good sleep.” You lay your hand on his arm. “Promise me you'll get some rest tonight?”

“I promise I will. Are you free Friday night?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Meet me at the station around eight?”

You raise your eyebrows and he looks away as the group around the table cheer in congratulations for Cara. James, Cara's husband, calls Shawn over and he walks away to give Cara a hug and congratulate her as well. You watch as he snags a cookie from the box on the table and grins at you, holding it up before taking big bite while James talks to him about something. You roll your eyes. You were definitely going to go on the date with him, even if it was just hanging out at the firehouse. You liked Shawn that much, you could just watch TV with him. Damn. He was getting to you.

_____________

Friday night. You have no idea what to expect as you walk up to the firehouse. Shawn's truck is in the lot and so is Jeremy and Max's. Three meant that was the whole overnight crew. Had Shawn forgotten about your date? You open the side door of the firehouse and walk into the darkened garage toward the living area. It's quiet, no one around and you can feel your heart sink.

“Hey, you're early,” Shawn says, appearing from a doorway to your right. “I was just coming to meet you outside.”

“Oh, are we leaving? Aren't you on the night shift?”

Shawn chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. His shirt strains across his chest and you can't help but bite your lip. “I am on the night shift. I hoped we could stay in and have our date here?”

“Here? But aren't the guys here?”

“They're asleep in the bunks upstairs. I promise we won't be bothered.”

“And what are we doing?”

“Well,” Shawn steps back through the doorway and you follow him. He leads you into the small station kitchen and you can see all the basics for baking laid out on the counter tops. “I thought maybe we could bake together. Or more of you teach me how to bake.”

You grin. A baking date might just be the best thing you'd ever heard of. Shawn was truly a man after your heart. You circle around the center island and touch the bag of flour, chocolate chips, sugar and mini cupcake liners. “So do you want cupcakes or muffins?”

Shawn walks around to meet you and he's holding two aprons in his hand. “Muffins. They're my favorite cheat day food.”

You slide the apron on over your head and look down. It has a little muffin picture glued on to a felt heart. It's cute and you're pretty sure it's hand made. “Did you make this?” You giggle, smoothing your hand over the front of yourself.

“I did. I thought it was cute and you'd like it.” Shawn puts his apron on and his has a matching design. “Now, how bout those muffins?”

Shawn doesn't pay attention to half of what you say as you make the muffins. He tries so hard, he really does and you can tell. His focus is mostly on you, telling you how cute you are and how you're so good at this because you can do it without a recipe.

Every time you ask for him to measure something for you he asks what cup that is. You're pretty sure he has never baked a day in his life let alone used a measuring cup or measuring spoons. How he survived this long you'll never know.

“Shawn, have you not cooked before?” You ask with a giggle as you swat his hand away from the chocolate chips you're measuring.

“I cook all the time. I just don't bake. I don't measure anything other than rice or like liquids.” He leans against your back and tries to sneak his hand around to steal chips. He thinks he's slick. “Let me have some!”

“No!” You giggle and jerk the cup of chips away from his hand. You end up spilling them mostly in the bowl. “Oh you better stop.”

“Or what?” He asks against your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

“I won't make your muffins.”

Shawn's hands slide around your front and up your stomach. “Just one chocolate chip. Just a little tiny one.”

“Fine.” You grab exactly one chocolate chip and hold it up.

He leans over, pressing you into the counter with his chest and waist slotted firmly against your back. He closes his mouth around your fingers and takes the chip. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your ear, kissing it tenderly.

“You're welcome,” you whisper though you're very much alone in the kitchen with him.

Shawn pulls away, turning to grab the muffin tins off the island counter and the tension is broken just like that. He oils the pans just like you reminded him to earlier because the liners he bought were for a mini pan and he had a regular size pan. You can't help but watch as he carefully wipes each cup with an oiled paper towel, deliberately coating every inch of the metal. Something about him being so focused, so interested in baking, makes your heart flutter.

You turn your focus back to the batter. There was no time to be getting caught up in your feelings yet. This was only the second date. “Are you ready for the batter?”

“Yes ma'am,” Shawn grins, holding up his oiled pan. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “I promise I won't make you eat muffins that are scraped out of the tin.”

“I mean I'd still enjoy them, but yeah it's a little easier when they're whole.”

“Okay, put them in the oven for twenty minutes and then we'll be set.”

Shawn carries the pan to the preheated oven and puts it in. “So, what do we want to do while these cook?” He grabs a handful of chocolate chips off the bowl on the counter and shoves it in his mouth. “We have movies.”

“You don't have a plan?”

“Well...ah...” He rubs his neck. “I suck at planning?”

“Obviously.” You walk towards him, hand raised to wipe a smear of chocolate chip on his lip. “You got some chocolate. Hold still.” You wipe it with your thumb but it just smears it. You can't help but stare at his soft pink plush looking lips. They're so kissable, so not chapped and ready for you to lean in and taste.

“Did you get it?”

“Quit talking.” You try again and it almost all comes off. “Hold still there's a little bit left.”

Shawn raises his arm and wipes it on his hand. “Better?”

“Worse!” You let out a laugh and he looks helpless. “I think you had some on your hand!”

“You're gonna have to lick it off.”

“Oh no I'm not.”

“Oh?” He steps closer, backing you against the island. “So you don't want to kiss me? That's not why you were staring at my lips, mouth parting, tongue peaking out to wet them...”

“Shut up.” You lean up and kiss him, licking the chocolate off his lip and smiling in the process. His lips were just as sweet and soft as you imagined.

Shawn brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Knew you wanted to.”

“You talk too much.”

Shawn grins and presses his lips to yours once more. The kiss grows heated and intense. His hand find your hips, yours find his hair and back. You lick into his mouth and he responds just as eagerly.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear someone walk in. You don't even know they're there until you hear, “In the kitchen? Come on.”

Shawn turns his head, eyeing the intruder. You look too, cheeks hot with embarrassment. In the doorway is Jeremy.

“I don't want to know. I just want a water bottle and one of whatever you're making when they're done.”

“Of course, yeah,” you say with a nervous little laugh.

Jeremy grabs his water and mutters something about damn kids these days. As soon as he's out of sight you raise your eyebrows at Shawn.

“They were asleep, I promise.” Shawn pleads. “I'm sorry I embarrassed you.”

“It's okay, I'm not that embarrassed. We were just kissing. But since he is up now, maybe we should keep it a little more low key?”

“Yeah,” Shawn chuckles. “I'll grab some cards if you're up for a few games?”

“Sure.”  

The rest of the night you and Shawn play cards in the kitchen, eat muffins and just talk about all sorts of stuff. He asks about Brodie but you're not too keen on rehashing that past quite yet. You ask him about his parents and what they think of him becoming a firefighter and not taking over the farm. They're actually very proud of him and never expected him to work the farm if he wasn't interested. They were very supportive of him. The night winds down and you're stuffed with enough muffins and decaf coffee to gain a few pounds. Shawn offers to take you home and you accept, taking one last muffin for the road.

________________

“So what's new?” You ask Cait as you walk around your room looking for something to wear on another date with Shawn this coming weekend. He had stopped by the deli on Monday and asked you to go to the beach with him.

“Oh not much, just bedridden and seriously fat,” Cait laughs.

“Oh quit it. You're not fat. The baby is probably fat.”

“You're right on that one. Adam is a big guy, I'd be shocked if this baby was less than seven or eight pounds.”

“So you're due any day huh?”

Cait shuffles around and you're pretty sure she drop the phone for a second. “Any day now. I insisted on not being admitted early because of the bills. I'm beginning to regret that though. This little bugger is killing my back.”

“I bet. Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not yet. We're torn between Nathaniel and Andrew.”

You put your phone on speaker and grab a dress out of your closet. It's a nice simple black A-line. Maybe not too beachy. “Why not use one as a middle name?”

“I'm using dad's name for his middle name. Besides, I'm partial on Nathaniel. It works best with dad's name.”

“You're right. Definitely go with Nathaniel.”

“Duely noted. What about you? How has things been with the firefighter guy?”

You smile to yourself. Was perfect enough of a descriptor? An absolute dream? No. You sound crazy. Shawn was nice and good but he wasn't quite prince charming. Yet. “It's going really well. We have another date this weekend.”

“I Facebook stalked him, he seems like a real genuine guy. What does he like?”

“He likes books and food. I know he likes working out and he definitely has a soft spot for dogs I think. Every time Mr. Peter's walks his dog by the deli, Shawn stares like he wants to pet him so badly.”

Cait laughs. “If he pets that dog he will lose a hand! Remember when it chased us home from the park one time?”

“Oh my God I forgot about that. Damn that dog is old as hell.”

“Probably a real hellhound if you ask me.”

“Cait! Be nice.”

Cait scoffs. You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Shawn sounds like a good guy. I hope he works out for you, God knows you need it.”

“Are you saying I'm hopeless?”

“Your usual taste in men could be better.”

You roll your eyes as you reach for your next dress in the closet. Too fancy for the beach. Jeans and a tee were looking to be the best option right now.

“Are you still planning on coming to the hospital with me?” Cait asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Of course. Mike knows when I get the text from you that I need to go.”

“Awesome. I can't wait to see you. I'm gonna hang up now though, I have to pee and I think I need a snack. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too sis. Bye.”

_________________

It's just before midnight when you wake up to the smell of smoke. It's all too familiar and strikes a deep fear into you immediately. You jump out of bed and look around, there is no smoke in the house. For a split second you think it must be a nightmare, your brain playing tricks on you. Wouldn't be the first time.

You circle your house, taking a walk from your bedroom to the living room and ending in the kitchen. That's when you smell it again. The unmistakable smell of burning. It's coming from the open window in the kitchen. You turn and look to the front door, sure enough there are lights flashing, blurry from your curtains. The sound of sirens suddenly blaring in your ears.

You grab your robe and pull it on, heading for the front door to see what is on fire and where. The moment you step outside it's apparent where the smoke is coming from. One house down in your row of houses, there is black clouds billowing from the front window. The other neighbors are all in their front yards too and four of the firefighters are approaching the house.

One of the crew pulls away and starts jogging across the yards toward you. He pulls his helmet off and you see it's Shawn. In seconds he wraps his arms around you, the bulky gear rough against your exposed skin.

“Oh thank God it's not you.” He says desperately as he squeezes you tighter, face in your hair.  

“What's going on? Of course I'm okay.”

“I saw the address and my stomach sank. I thought you were in danger, I thought I was going to lose you.” He pulls back and cups your face with his gloved hands. “But you're okay.”

You hold his arms and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Yes I'm fine. Go do your job.”

Shawn looks back and two of the guys are walking out of the house carrying fire extinguishers. The owner, an elderly lady, is sitting in her lawn chair just shaking her head. “I think they've got it handled.”

You cup Shawn's cheek and he looks back to you. “Go. I'm fine.”

“Yeah...you're right. You're sure though? Are you feeling okay? I know the fire probably stresses you out.”

“I'm fine. The panic has passed. As much as I'd love to keep you as my emotional support firefighter, I'm sure Jeremy probably wants you with them.”

Shawn chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Tell your neighbors not to scare me half to death again. I dunno if my heart can take it.”

“I'll be sure to do that. Go on,” you shoo him away and he walks backwards, hand in yours until your arm is stretched out to just your fingertips touching.

“Good night,” Shawn says and you let your fingertips slip from his glove.

“Good night Shawn.” You grin and wrap your robe tight around yourself as you head inside to get some sleep.

________________

“Order up!” Mariel yells, passing you a sandwich to ring up.

You punch in the cost and turn to grab a bag of chips from the rack behind you. Your phone buzzes on the shelf under the counter and you spare a glance, obviously too busy to pick it up. It was probably just a telemarketer anyway. Or maybe Shawn making plans since your date the weekend before was amazing. You had taken him for sushi in Ashland and he loved it.

“Alright, that's ten dollars. Would like to add any extras today? A cookie or a drink?” you ask and the customer shakes his head and slides his card.

Your phone buzzes again and this time Mariel steps in and says you should answer it. You grab it and walk over to the side counter. The screen shows an unknown number and you roll your eyes before clicking answer. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God, it's Adam. I'm at the hospital with Cait. Something happened and I can't explain. She's okay but we need you here. She is freaking out.”

“Adam what happened? Is she in labor? What's going on?” You ask frantically, already pulling your apron off as you head for the front door. You glance back at Mariel and she just waves you off. “Adam, what is going on?”

“Cait fell, I don't know how. She called she was taken in an ambulance. They said she is okay but they're doing an ultrasound now. I have to hurry up, I'm using a pay phone outside and I'm out of change. We're at Berkin Ho-” The phone cuts off and the line beeps.

Your stomach churns. You have no idea how you're going to get to Berkin hospital. It's over half an hour drive and you're not really up for trying to find a car and drive there. You pull up the cab services number and as you hit dial, you see Shawn walk out of the firehouse and unlock his truck.

“Shawn,” you mutter desperately. You jog across the street and he looks up with a smile when he sees you. “Shawn, can you take me to Berkin Hospital? Please I'll give you anything you want, I'll owe you a thousand muffins. Please.”

“Whoa hey are you okay?” He asks, circling the front of the truck to hold your arms, eyes scanning you for injury. “What happened?”

“It's not me. It's my sister. She's pregnant...she fell or something I don't know,” you're sobbing, body shaking like a leaf. “Her husband called from a pay phone and he sounded scared and he said Cait is freaking out.”

Shawn pulls you into a quick hug. “Let's go, you need to be there.”

________________

By the time you get to the hospital Cait has just been taken in for a C-section. Adam is in the hall beyond the emergency waiting area and he comes out to explain what happened. He says that Cait said she was going to the kitchen for water when Boo, their cat, got under her feet and she fell backwards onto her butt. Her water broke and she called emergency services, and then him in the ambulance. The doctor recommended a C-section because he is afraid of something having happened in the fall, the baby getting jarred a little harshly, and he doesn't want to wait until Cait is fully dilated in the event there is injury. Cait agreed and decided to have a C-section now, but they're in prep and waiting for her doctor to show up.

You turn to Shawn as Adam walks back through the door to the emergency wing, intending for you to follow him. “You can go home. I'm okay, thanks for bringing me.”

“Can I stay? I really don't have anything going on at home and you look like you could use some company.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Come on.” You lead Shawn through the doors and into the small room where Adam is sitting. “Hey, Adam. Do you mind if Shawn stays?”

Adam looks up from his phone. His eyes are red, he's been crying and you can just now see it in the bright lights of the sterile room. “No, that's fine. He's your boyfriend right? Cait told me you were seeing someone.”

“Ah, yeah. He's my,” you glance over to Shawn and he's trying to hide a smile but failing. “He's my friend. We've gone out a few times. It's whatever.”

Adam looks between the two of you with a half smile. “Me and Cait were just friends too.”

“Shut up,” you murmur, shoving Adam. “Hey, I thought your phone was dead.”

Adam holds it up on a bright purple cord that attached to a wall charger. “One of the nurses got a cord from a lady up in the ICU for me.”

“Oh, that's good.” You look around the small room and lean against the wall awkwardly. There was only one guest chair and Adam was sitting in it.

Shawn picks up on the situation and clears his throat. “Anyone want some food? I can swing by the cafeteria while we wait.”

“No thanks man. I'm not hungry, too nervous,” Adam says and turns back to his phone.

You nod, knowing Shawn probably hasn't eaten in a while. “Yeah, I should eat something. I don't feel like it really but I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Shawn puts his arm around you and leads you into the hall. “I know my way around here pretty well, and I have a discount at the cafeteria.”

“Yeah? Work brings you here?”

“Not always,” Shawn chuckles. “Not always.”

________________

Shawn tells you to get whatever you want as he stands in line at the hot bar. You look around at the selection on the soup and salad bar and decide to just get a small salad and crackers. You meet up with Shawn at the register and he has a tray loaded with food. He shows some sort of ID badge and the cashier scans it before he pays.

“So firefighters get a discount here?” You ask as you dress your salad. “Or are you just special?”

Shawn chuckles. “All emergency service personnel gets a discount here. But I am special too.”

You roll your eyes. “Special huh?”

“Yeah, I was admitted here as a kid. I spent like three weeks in the ICU while they figured out what was wrong with me. Turned out my appendix had attached itself to my muscle tissue and was inflamed to nearly ten times it's size.”

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Shawn chuckles over a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Yeah of course. The appendix is pointless anyway, but it was hell for the doctors to get it off the muscle wall without it bursting. I've got a scar now but it's not too bad.”

“Damn. You're lucky then I guess.”

“Very lucky. Wanna see the scar?” Shawn stands up and tugs his shirt up for you to see. It's pale pink, about the length of your index finger and right along the V of his hip to his lower stomach. “It's faded a lot now.”

“That's big. Did they take any of the muscle with it?”

Shawn plops back down and sticks some fries in his mouth, shaking his head. “Nah. The doctor was really good. But anyway, how about you? Any crazy medical stories?”

“No,” you laugh softly. “I was a healthy non reckless kid.”

“That's no fun. No broken bones? Toys stuck where they shouldn't be?”

“No, oh my God. My dad kept an eye on me and so did Cait.” You push your salad around on the plate, momentarily lost in thought. “Cait is gonna be a good mom.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. I'm glad her and Adam finally got pregnant. They've been trying for ages. She deserves it y'know? After all we've been through, she deserves a happy ending.”

Shawn bumps his water bottle against yours and you look up from where you've spaced out, staring into the depths of your salad bowl. “You deserve it too. Don't forget that.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Yeah I guess so.”

________________

You and Shawn talk a little longer, mostly about family stuff and some crazy childhood stories. Most of his make you wonder how he's even alive still, but you conclude he must just be extremely lucky. Adam texts you and says the doctors are taking Cait to a room to recover and he gives you the floor and room number. You and Shawn wrap up and head for the elevators to get upstairs. Cait would want to see you no doubt.

“So do they know what the gender is yet?” Shawn asks as he leans forward, holding the door open for a nurse who was jogging to catch it.

“Yeah, it's a boy. I just hope they settled on a name.”

“Shawn?” The nurse asks as the doors close softly.

“Uh yeah?” Shawn tilts his head, looking her over as if trying to figure out how she knew his name.

“Darcy, from the emergency responders luncheon two years ago?” The nurse says, grinning.

Shawn shakes his head. “I'm sorry, I don't recall. Did we sit together or...”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

You give Shawn a look and he just kinda deadpans.

“I'm really sorry. I must have been out of it.”

Darcy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah obviously. You'd had a few but I didn't think you were smashed enough to forget me.”

Shawn turns scarlet. His eyes go wide and you have a feeling he remembers exactly who Darcy is now. He remains silent until her floor dings and she gets off, leaving you with Shawn alone in an awkward silence.

“She sounded upset. What was that about?”

“Listen, I was a jerk a few years ago. Brand new firefighter with cockiness to spare. Believe me. I was a douchebag. She probably should have slapped me.”

You let out a low whistle as the doors open on your floor and the two of you step out. “So I should be careful huh?”

“I grew up. I promise.”

“Mmhmm.”

You get to Cait's room and she is overjoyed to see you. The baby is sleeping on her chest, so small and fragile, only five pounds she says. His name is Nathaniel. You introduce Shawn and explain that he brought you to the hospital, and he's the one that you'd told her about on the phone. Cait plays it off like she didn't recognize him immediately from her Facebook creeping. After a while of visiting you get to hold the baby while Cait rests.

Shawn looks like he's going to die when you glance over to where he's sitting in one of the guest chairs. He just stares at you while you're cuddling this little tiny bundle of baby and blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him?” You grin and he looks terrified.

“I don't know. I probably shouldn't.”

You stand and walk over to where Shawn is sitting and you carefully pass Nathaniel to him. He cuddles him against his chest awkwardly, arms huge in comparison. “It's not too hard. See, he fits right in your arm there.”

“He's so small.” Shawn boops the baby's nose. “I always wanted kids one day. But when they're this tiny I'm nervous I'll break them.”

“They're more resilient than you might think.”

Shawn pets back Nathaniel's little bit of sparse dark hair. He looks so soft, so natural holding a baby like this. It makes you smile, and gives you a strange butterfly like feeling in your stomach. Shawn with kids is a little too much for you to dream of but you'd be damned if you weren't.

“You're still here?” Cait asks sleepily from the bed.

“Yeah, Adam is on his way back now. I figured we would stay until he got here.”

As if on cue, Adam walks in with Cait's over night bag. You help Shawn put Nathaniel into his bassinet and give Cait a hug. You say your goodbyes and promise to visit as soon as she's is home and feeling up to visitors. Shawn drives you home, leaving you with a chaste kiss and plans to meet up after work tomorrow evening.

________________

It is just after four in the afternoon a week later and you sit outside the deli waiting for Shawn to get off work. You check your phone, scrolling through social media and chatting with some people who messaged you. Before you know it half an hour has passed and still Shawn hasn't come out of the firehouse. You don't want to seem like that annoying girl but he made plans and wasn't even replying to your texts.

You cross the street and knock on the door. No answer. You try the handle and it's locked. They must be out on a call. You feel kinda bad now, not even thinking about the possibility of him actually working late. You had just gotten used to them not getting called out very much recently.

You decide to walk home, maybe stop by the minimart on the way to grab some snacks. There was no telling when Shawn would be available or if he would even feel like hanging out after a call. It's fine, you would just talk to him tomorrow.

The minimart bell dings and you raise a hand in greeting to Mae, the old woman behind the counter. She greets you with a smile. You grab a few things, a small pint of chocolate ice cream, a Snickers bar and a bag of chips.

“Bad day?” Mae asks, ringing up your purchases.

“No, just wanted a few snacks.” You glance over at her little tv that is showing a newscast from a reporter in a field. There is a massive blaze behind him and he keeps glancing back warily.

“That's sad isn't it?” Mae asks, looking back at the TV. “They said the drivers of both vehicles are dead and the explosion hurt some of the emergency responders trying to get them out.”

Your stomach sinks. Shawn was probably out there. “Oh my God. What happened? Where is it at?”

“Tanker truck hit an SUV I think. It's just off route 45 to Benton I think. Probably a truck coming to fill up the tanks at the Phillips station.”

“I-I have to go.” You leave your items on the counter and take off running for the deli.

The door clatters loudly as you rush in the deli and up to the counter. The few people in the dining area give you worried looks as you lean over the counter.

Mariel comes out of the back area and sees you, her face falling immediately. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“There's an explosion and a crash on 45. I need your keys I need to get there now. Shawn could be there.”

Mariel digs in her apron pocket and hands you her keys. “Be careful.”

Ten agonizing minutes later and you pull Mariel's little blue car over off the side of the highway and leave it in favor of walking the last few hundred feet. The tanker is still on fire, both fire engines are parked off to the side, no hydrants are available for water this far out on the highway. You look around for any of the firefighters, desperate to find out if Shawn is there.

“Ma'am, you can't be here!” An officer yells as you walk past the news crews who are waiting for more details.

You ignore him, your sights set on a group of firemen standing by an ambulance. Your heart is pounding, none of them look tall enough to be Shawn.

Another officer cuts you of, holding up their hand to stop you from getting at closer. “Ma'am you need to go back to your car. No bystanders are allowed near the wreck.”

“I'm not going to the wreck I'm going to the ambulance over there,” you say, pointing to the ambulance that's getting ready to leave.

“No you're not. You need to leave.”

“Sir you don't understand, I need to-”

The officer steps forward as you start to try and pass him. “Ma'am, I'm not going to tell you again. Go back to you vehicle and leave.”

“Jeremy! Ryan!” You shout and the officer says something but you can't hear him. He grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “JEREMY! JEREMY!”

Jeremy turns around and sees you being pulled away by the officer. He comes walking over, calling the officer off as he approaches. “What are you doing here? This is a dangerous situation.”

“Where is Shawn? Is he here? I saw on the news that some people got hurt trying to rescue the drivers.”

“Shawn will be okay. I need you to leave. I'll call you as soon as I can with more information.”

“Oh my God,” you start trembling, stomach churning. “Ohmygod he's in the ambulance isn't he?”

Jeremy puts his hand on your arm and you lean against him. He pulls you into a hug, hand on the back of your head as you let out a heavy sob. “He will be fine. He's strong, he knows the dangers of his job. Please, you need to go home. There is nothing here for you.”

You don't go home. You go to the hospital and wait in the ER lobby for two hours. Two agonizing hours. The receptionist won't tell you anything, she doesn't know anything actually. She says she will let you know when he is allowed visitors. You text Mariel that you have the car and you're at Birkin Hospital. She says she walked home and it's fine that she understands.

You're curled up across two hard seats, half asleep when the receptionist says that Shawn is allowed to have visitors. You grab your purse and push through the automatic doors as they open slowly to the ER rooms. You turn down the hall to room 042 and push the door open and your heart stops.

Shawn is asleep, chest rising and falling softly. He has an oxygen tube in his nose and he's hooked up two a few monitors and an IV drip. He's in a white hospital gown. His face is mostly clean, a few remnants of blood and what looks like mud on his chin. You just stare, tears burning your eyes and spilling over your cheeks. You take a shaky step forward and grab a couple paper towels and wet them in the small wash sink to the right of his bed.

“Jesus Christ what were they doing for two hours?” You wipe at his face, clearing off a smudge of blood from his cheek. It's then you notice his arm is in a white plaster cast and there is tape and gauze sticking out from under the collar of his gown.

The door opens and a nurse walks in. “Oh, hello. I'm Shona. I'm the nurse on rounds for tonight.”

You introduce yourself, lying that you're his fiance just in case she doesn't release any information to you.  You watch as she administers a syringe of something into his IV drip. “What is that?”

“Morphine. He's going to be hurting when he wakes up.”

“What happened? I mean, what took two hours? I know what happened, like the accident.”

Shona grabs a chart on the wall beside the bed and flips it up. “Fractured arm, multiple lacerations to the chest and stomach. Bruised ribs.” She scans down the chart. “Looks like he was on oxygen and being monitored for smoke inhalation and potential internal bleeding for a few hours. The bleeding was negative. That's what took so long it seems.”

“Jesus Christ Shawn.” You ball the paper towel up in your hand and take a seat in the guest chair.

“If you need anything or if he wakes up, let me know. Just press the nurse button and I'll come see how he's doing.”

You nod and Shona leaves the room. You don't care how long it is, you're going to stay until he wakes up.

Jeremy shows up a little while later. He talks to the nurse, getting a run down of Shawn's condition. The two of you talk briefly and and says to text him when Shawn wakes up. Let him know if he wants visitors or if he's going to be admitted. You promise that you'll keep him updated.

________________

“What're you doing here?”

You sit up from where you've passed out across the two hard plastic chairs. It's almost midnight according to the clock on the wall. On the bed Shawn is sitting up right, well, propped more upright with the help of the bed.

“You're awake!”

“Yeah. I just woke up, what happened? Why are you here?”

You stand and go over to the side of the bed. He grabs your hand and holds it in his. “I'm not entirely sure what happened. I think the tanker exploded and you must have been knocked back? You're pretty beat up.”

“Fuck.” Shawn closes his eyes and licks his lip. “I knew I shouldn't have gone into try and help the truck driver. He was already fucking gone.”

“Shawn, it's okay. You were doing your job.”

“I was being an idiot. I know better than to try and go into a situation like that. I could have died.”

You lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you. “You didn't die. You're fine, a little rough, but you're fine. Stop beating yourself up.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, eyes tearing up. “You should be at home, sleeping and angry I stood you up. Why are you sitting in a crappy ER room with me?”  

“I'm here because I saw the news and I just knew something had happened. I don't know how, but I knew you were hurt and I had to get to you.” You wipe a tear away with your thumb. “I’ve been here since they brought you in. Jeremy came by but he didn't want to hang out too long. I gotta let him know you're awake.”

“How did you know they brought me here?”

“I followed the ambulance. Shawn, I drove to the accident because I was freaking out. I almost got arrested for resisting an officer just to get closer to find out where you were.”

Shawn's eyes widen. “You are the craziest woman I know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“God I love you.”

“Shawn, you better just stop talking. It sounds like the morphine is making you a little loopy.” You grab the bed remote and press the nurse button. You pull your hand from Shawn's and he pouts, eyeing you from across the room as Shona comes in and starts taking vitals and asking how he feels.

You excuse yourself to the hall so you can call Jeremy. Really it's because Shawn's words just gave you a heart attack and you're pretty sure if he kept talking you'd go into cardiac arrest.

________________

Six hours later and Shawn is released. Jeremy had stopped by with a change of clothes for him from the firehouse. You had tried to get him to call his parents, to let them know what happened, but he said he wasn't ready. The doctor said he shouldn't be left alone, that it would be best if you or someone stayed with him over night just in case but all his vitals were normal and other than bruising and the broken arm, he was in amazing condition. He was lucky.

The drive home is quiet. You swing by the 24 hour pharmacy on the way out of town to get the pain medication that the doctor prescribed. Shawn waits in the car. You grab some snacks and a couple of reusable hot/cold compresses. You're sure he will need them.

You help Shawn into the house and he insists on sleeping on the couch but you know that is not what he needs. You don't mind taking the couch for a few days or even weeks. However long Shawn needed to stay with you was okay. It takes a lot of convincing but he eventually agrees to sleep in your bed propped up.  

“You don't have to do this,” he says for the dozenth time since you left the hospital. “I'll be alright.”

“Shawn, I'm not going to leave you at your place alone. The doctor said to monitor you and that's what I'm going to do.”

He's quiet, just like every time he tried to get you to leave him before. You don't know what he's getting at by telling you the same thing. You're also not sure, but it could be a side effect of the pain medicines making him a little loopy and forgetful. “You're amazing.”

You fluff a blanket out across his lap and shake your head. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would. A thousand times over I would.”

You lean forward to grab a pillow and he grabs your hand, stopping you halfway. You look down at his scraped up knuckles against your soft skin. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes finding yours. “I’m sorry I scared you and put you through this.”

You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “You we're doing your job. I know what dangers come with being a fireman. I know what I signed up for.”

Shawn cracks a soft smile. His tired face looking far more gorgeous than it should right now. “You say that like we're a couple.” His eyes are glassy and you want to discuss relationships and feelings right now but somehow you know it's not going to do any good. His medicine was knocking him out and he was getting loose lipped. You don't feel right talking about something serious while he basically has no inhibitions.

“Get some rest,” you say, pulling your hand from his and cupping his cheek. “I'll be in the living room and you can just holler if you need anything.”

“Yes ma'am.” He hums and leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. You move around the room quietly, picking up a few things before leaving him be and by the time you finish he is passed out, soft snores filling the room. You give him one last look from the doorway and sigh softly. You were definitely gone for him and you don't mind one bit.

________________

The next few days Shawn's spends mostly in bed. He doesn't go out, just hangs out at your house while you go to work. The guys from the fire station stop by the deli and ask about him, you tell them he's doing alright. Which he is. He just seems a little shaken up still, like it's really hitting him that he could have died. Jeremy brought you his keys and spare clothes from the station to take home with you so he would have some things to wear.

It's Wednesday and you wake up stiff from sleeping on the couch again. It's your day off and you plan on trying to get Shawn to go visit the guys at the station. You sit up and Shawn is standing in the kitchen trying to break eggs into a bowl with one hand. He's getting visibly annoyed and you climb off the couch to go help.

“Shawn, let me do it,” you say softly as you approach him and see three shattered eggs in a bowl.

He sighs heavily, stepping aside to let you take over. “I hate this.”

“I know.” You fold the carton closed and turn the stove off. “We're going to go out for breakfast. You've been cooped up here for days, it's time to go out.”

Shawn grumbles. “I don't want to go out.”

“Too bad. You're becoming a grumpy old man. And you owe me a date.”

“I do,” he sighs softly. “Okay, you got me. I'll get dressed.”

Half an hour later and you are walking together along the beach and you're feeding him bites of a muffin. The two of you opted to get some blueberry muffins and coffee from the cafe to go.

“I'm really sorry,” he says as you head for the underside of the pier that was attached to the deck of the crab shack

“For what?”

“For putting you through this kind of stress. I was reckless and I got myself hurt.”

You finish off the bit of muffin in your hand and shake your head at him. “I mean, I know what risks a firefighter has to take. I know you're going to get hurt. I don't like it, and yeah, you were reckless and you could have died. But you didn't.”

“I don't even have anything to show for it. I didn't save the truck driver.”

“Hey,” you grab his hand and he threads his fingers through yours. “You have your life to show for it. I'm not angry at you, I'm not even disappointed. I'm glad you're alive and barely hurt.”

Shawn drops your hand and sits down in the sand. You sit beside him and the water washes up over your toes. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because I like you. You're an amazing guy and you're sweet. You're everything I've ever dreamed of in a guy. How could I not care?”

He shrugs. “I guess I've never felt that sort of thing from anyone I've dated. We hit it off so fast, I was actually really nervous I was going to fuck everything up.”

“Well you didn't.” You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder. “You actually did quite the opposite.”

“I did everything right?”

You nod.

He grabs your hand and plays with it. His knuckles are scrapped up, red and a little bruised. He measures your hand against his, palms together before bringing it up to kiss softly.

“Can I ask you something really cheesy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laugh softly. Before you met him, you probably would have said no. But there was something about Shawn that changed everything for you. Something that made you feel like you couldn't get enough of him. Something that made you wanna go all in and not stop.

“I think I do.”

________________

Six months later

“Hey hot stuff,” Shawn purrs, hands on your waist pulling you back against him. “Is this my shirt?”

You let out a squeal and drop the spatula you are using to stir your scrambled eggs. “Yes it is. What are you doing scaring me like that?” You laugh, leaning your head back against him.

“Notice anything different?” He wiggles his fingers against your sides. You don't feel the familiar hard edge of his cast pushing against your skin.

“Your cast is gone!”

He turns you around and holds his hands up. The blue plaster cast is totally gone. You put your hand in his and he squeezes gently. “It's going to be weak for a while, but I have stretches and stuff to do to build the strength back up. The doc said my bones looks good and the muscles should bounce back in no time since I did the exercising with my fingers with the cast on.”

“I'm so happy. You'll be able to do more than just in house work at the station. I know between that and hanging around here you were getting a little stir crazy.”

Shawn grabs your hips and lifts you up on the counter top so you're just a hair taller than him. He steps between your legs and bumps his nose against yours. “The only thing that makes me crazy is you.”

“Mmm,” you lean in for a kiss and he kisses you slow and drawn out for just a lingering moment. “This is very sexy and all, but you probably shouldn't be lifting me quite yet.” You lay your hand over his forearm and he makes a noise of protest as he bumps his nose against yours for another kiss. “I'm serious Shawn.”

“I know.” He pulls back, looking at you softly. “I got excited. I haven't been able to do what I want for a while.” He grips the swells of your hips and grins. “Couldn’t hold you like I wanted to.”

“Shawn,” you flush and he gives you bedroom eyes. “Later.” You reach over and pull your pan off the burner so your eggs don't over cook any more.

Shawn looks over and steps back so you can get down and finish making your breakfast. “I'm just saying, my station tee would look really good on the floor of the bedroom right now.”

You turn and point your spatula at him. “And I'm just saying, it sounds like you need to take a cold shower and calm that fire in your pants, hot stuff.”

Shawn just groans and turns away, going to the bathroom. You hear the shower come on and you just laugh, sitting down to eat your breakfast.

________________

“Are you still interested in the old antique shop next to the deli?” Shawn asks one day over lunch. You're sat together in the station dining room while the other guys nap in the bunks upstairs.

“Yeah, but I'm a little over a thousand dollars short. I might take out a loan or something. I really want to open the bakery. I'm so close but it's still so far.”

Shawn twirls a stir stick between his fingers. “I uh...I have a couple grand in my savings.”

“No.”

“Honey, I'd be an investor. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to come back to firefighting full time with my arm the way it is. I've got permanent screws in it. If I can make your dream come true, and possibly be a part of it, then that's everything I could ever want.”

You lay your hand over the scars on the back of his forearm and sigh softly. “You're making great progress. The doctor said the screws shouldn't stop you from doing your job.”

Shawn sighs. “It's just...what if I get hurt again? What if it's worse?”

“Shawn.” You turn his face up to look at you across the table. “Why did you take this job? Remember what you told me when I asked why you became a firefighter?”

“Because I wanted to help people.”

“That's right. And you're going to do that. You're going to save so many lives Shawn. I know you're anxious about returning to the job completely, but don't get into the mindset that it's not going to work. You can do anything.”

“You're right. I can. So I'm going to be a firefighter and I'm also going to be an investor in your bakery.”

You shake your head as you let out a laugh. “Shawn, no! I can get a loan.”

“Listen,” he covers your hands with his and lifts them up. “I always wanted to help people, that was my dream, and I'm doing something I love no matter how anxious I am about returning to it. You want to bake, you deserve to have your dreams come true as well. Let me be part of it, please?” He kisses your fingers gently.

“Fine. Just the thousand, I'll pick up the rest. It'll be enough to get the lease on the shop, supplies and pay the first two months utilities. I have all of dad's equipment in storage so we just have to install everything.”

Shawn grins big. “I know a couple of strong guys who would love to help out in exchange for some baked goods.” You giggle and he leans over the table to kiss you.

__________________

“The place is all set up with fairly new electrical and plumbing, everything is up to code for a food business or retail. What was it you wanted to put in here?” The realtor asks as she walks you and Shawn around the empty shop.

“A bakery.” You stand by a counter that could use some love but would work for the time being.

“Oh! Well the building was actually a bakery at one time so the outlets should definitely be up to code for food equipment.”

You turn and look at the realtor. Her name is Peggy. “I know. It was my dad's place.”

“Wow! Really? That's amazing. Does the landowner know that?”

“I'm not sure. Why?”

“Well, sometimes people are sentimental to family businesses. I can talk to him if you like, it's worth a shot.” Peggy lays down her folder on the counter. “I'll leave you with some of the information on the building. I'm sure you probably know most of it, but take a look at it and get back to me with an offer and I'll contact the owner.”

Shawn walks over from the windows and puts his arm around your waist. “Why didn't you tell me this  was your dad's place? This is going to be amazing.”

“I know, I can't wait,” you beam, taking the folder off the counter and following Peggy out of the building.

_______________

You walk in the doors of the firehouse and the place is loud and bustling. The garage and living area have been turned into a party room. It's the annual fill the boot fundraiser, where the firefighters raise money to fill one of the boots from their gear to donate to a charity. It's an adult only event that goes over quite well with the town's residents. There is food, drinks, games and even a little something special. Every year a couple of the guys volunteer to play a game where they dress up in all of their gear and attendees pay set amounts for certain pieces of clothing and gear to come off. All proceeds from the game, food, and drinks  go to “fill the boot” for the years charity. This is only your second year attending and Shawn said you had to come, that he'd be devastated if you didn't.

You're a little late, having worked an extra hour at the deli to help deep clean behind the counter. You had already promised you would or else you wouldn't have stayed. There is loud music, some catchy country band blaring over the speakers in the garage. Everyone is chatting and having a good time. You don't see Shawn right away, eyes scanning for the hard to miss giant.

“Grab a table, I'm gonna get drinks!” Mariel shouts from beside you over the music.

You no sooner get sat down then the DJ for the evening is announcing that they're going to have their next firefighter come out for the clothing bidding and that the goal is three hundred dollars. It's a steep amount, usually the guys go for a hundred or so.

“Again, that goal is three hundred dollars! And as always no touching the firefighters unless they allow it. Keep your hands in your pockets and your cash ready to donate!”

Shawn walks out of the office in his gear and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. No wonder they were looking to raise so much. Shawn was the youngest on staff and by far the most attractive. Of course you're biased, but you see the way people stare at him when you go out. Honestly you can't blame them, but he is all yours.

Mariel sits next to you and slides you a Coke. “Is that your man?”

“Yes.” You lean back, folding your arms in amusement. You can't wait to see how fast his clothes come off.

The DJ starts the bidding with his helmet at twenty dollars. Usually it's a ten dollar item but not with this hot commodity. The helmet is gone instantly, a lady you recognize from the grocery store hands over a bill for it. Gloves fly off at twenty. Boots at thirty take a minute but someone takes one for the team to get the ball rolling. His jacket is next and you just chuckle at the crowd already getting excited.

Shawn looks to you and you just shake your head. He walks into the tables toward you and starts unbuttoning his jacket, opening it and cheering people on to donate the forty dollars to take it off. He winks at you, biting his lip. There is a taker as soon as he leans against the table of a group of college girls across from you.

The pants are next, it's just the fireproof ones but the way Shawn undoes them you'd think he was taking off his jeans already. People are getting rowdy, young ladies reaching for him. The pants donation goes fast. He returns to the front area where the DJ is calling out the next article of clothing. He is barefooted, standing up there in his blue jeans and tee shirt. Of course he has on one of his station shirts that is tight and shows off his body. The jerk. He was loving this.

Mariel lets out a whistle as the DJ calls for his shirt donation. A whopping fifty dollars. You roll your eyes and he grabs the edges, ready to pull off. A guy walks up and drops the donation into the DJ's hand. Shawn pulls the tee up and over, revealing a tank top underneath.

“Are you sure he's wasn't a stripper?” Mariel laughs.

“Nah, he's just cocky. He knows all these people want him.”

“He's just showing off for you.”

“Probably.”

The DJ announces his undershirt for fifty dollars. There's a hesitation in the crowd. It's a lot, and it's one of the top two with the best result physically. “Fifty dollars, for the elementary school to get new play equipment! Come on up, you know you want to see this hot piece of man take his shirt off. It's the best part of the evening- We got a taker!”

Mariel stands up and walks across the room with her money. “Take it off Mendes!”

Shawn throws his head back and laughs. He pulls the tank top off and the room goes apeshit. He crosses the room and hands his tank top to you and Mariel. “Too bad babe, you should have bid on my shirt. I'd have brought it to you too.”

“But I'm going to get it tonight anyway.”

Shawn leans forward and grins. “Yes you will.”

Up next is his pants and that's the last fifty dollars. It takes no time, the DJ doesn't even finish announcing it before three of the college girls come up, the money between them. Sure enough, Shawn undoes his button, zips them down and shucks them. He stands there in his dark red boxers while everyone cheers.

“That is it! Three hundred dollars and you Mr. Mendes are free to get dressed!”

“How much for the boxers?!” Someone yells and Shawn flushes. You laugh.

Shawn goes to the booth and says something inaudible. The DJ leans over to talk to Jeremy who's handling the donation totals.

“Four hundred dollars?” The DJ says quietly, but loud enough everyone can still hear on the speaker. The three men talk quietly for a moment and then Shawn steps back, walking with a smirk to the middle of the front area.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Shawn grins, hands on his hips. “For the remaining amount that we need to raise. For four hundred dollars, yes, four big ones, I will take off my boxers right here and right now.”

Your eyes go wide and you stand up. Shawn looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You shake your head as he silently dares you to stop him.

“Do you take credit cards?” Someone yells jokingly.

Shawn saunters out into the crowd and glides his thumbs along his waistband. “No cards, only cold hard cash.”

You leave your seat and walk around to meet him. You lay your hand on his chest and walk him right back up to the front, eyes locked on his the whole time. He knew how to get you riled up. That was for sure.

“No touching ma'am!” The DJ calls out

Shawn raises his arm and waves him off, allowing it for you.

“You want me to donate it don't you?”

“I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.” He leans in and whispers, “It's working.”

“Do we have a donation?” The DJ asks and you look over to him. To the right you can see a table of people getting their money together. It's about to happen.

“You got your rise.” You glance down at his stomach and he chuckles.

“I did. Grab my wallet out of my jeans. There's a couple hundred in there for tonight.”

You step past him, grab his jeans and fish his wallet out. You march to the DJ booth and hand over the money.

“Ladies and gentlemen we have hit our goal!”

Shawn grabs the mic from the DJ and grins, “If you guys don't mind, I think I'll take my boxers off in front of the lady here in private.”

There's a sigh of disappointment from the crowd.

“Now now, I think she earned it since she is the sole donor.” He looks over at you and you roll your eyes. “And my beautiful girlfriend.”

An awe from the crowd erupts and they cheer as you help Shawn gather up his gear and clothes to take back into the office. The two of you squeeze into the tiny room and Shawn just laughs.

“You're such a little shit,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “What if I didn't step up?”

“Then I guess I'd be flashing a room of people right now.”

You cross your arms and he steps close, hands on your hips.

“Honey, I'm teasing. I would have made the donation myself. You know I'm yours, I'm not going to show the goods off to the public.”

“There were enough eyes on you tonight. Thank God they can't touch you.”

“Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. “I'm yours and you're mine remember? It's just for fun.”

“You're right,” you sigh and close your eyes. “I'm jealous over nothing. I'm sorry.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. “I forgive you. Now, you wanna see my dick?” he laughs.

“Not unless you're putting it to good use.” You smirk and he raises his eyebrows.

He growls and pulls your hips against his and gives you that look that could make you do just about anything. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

________________

Three months later

The grand opening if Hot Stuff Bakery is easily one of the best days of your life. The owner of the building accepted your offer after the realtor told him your history with it. You ended up getting it for quite a bit less than you planned so you actually had a little left over to do some extra renovation to the front end.

You and your friends and family are all standing around talking, everyone is enjoying your dipping bread and muffins. The whole town has come out to see your shop and reminisce on the days when your dad owned the place. Many say it has the same charm and for that you couldn't be more proud.

“Hey,” Shawn comes around with a little white to go box in his hand. “I made you something.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, grabbing his box and opening it to find a little white frosted cupcake. It's a perfect spiral, just how you'd showed him.

“I made it at home while you were here last night. I even made a strawberry filling. But there is another surprise in there too.”

You raise your eyebrows. Mr. Fancy over here was really trying to win your heart. As if he didn't already have it. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

You go over to the refrigerator case and pull out a chocolate iced cupcake. “Well, see the funny thing is, I also made you a special cupcake.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes.” You laugh as you set it down in front of him. “I'm appalled you stole my idea.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and smiles. “I guess we’re like meant to be together or something.”

“Yep. Now, rock paper scissors to see who gets surprised first?” You hold your fist up over your hand and he does the same. Three quick rounds and he emerges the victor. “Ugh! I don't wanna go first.”

“Too bad.” Shawn places the cupcake in your hand.

You dig your thumbs into the side of it. “I gotta see this filling.” You look up at him and he's just grinning. You pull the soft cake apart and out oozes some very delicious looking strawberry jam but also something hard. You pick it out of the sticky filling and realize exactly what it is. A wedding ring.

“Will you marry me?” Shawn asks taking the ring and wiping it on his jeans.

Your jaw drops. You turn and grab his cupcake. “I think your answer is in here.”

Shawn frowns, confused about your reaction. He takes the cake and opens it like you had. There is no filling in his, and a little tiny toy baby falls out onto the counter. “I... don't understand. How is this my answer?”

“What is it?”

“A toy baby? I don't get it, am I supposed to-” His eyes  widen and you can literally see his brain working. “You're pregnant?!”

“Two months!” You blurt out and everyone looks at the two of you.

Shawn drops down, hands shaking on your waist. He presses his forehead against your stomach and lets out a little cry of joy and kisses you. He stands back up, hands all over your sides and stomach. “I'm going to be a dad... I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to get married!”

Ryan and Jeremy start the congratulations, clapping loudly and everyone joins in. “You always said you were gonna marry her one day!” Jeremy laughs and you look over and back to Shawn.

“You really said that to them?” you laugh and he wraps his arms around you and spins you around.

“I did. The first day I met you in the deli, I knew I had to marry you someday.” He sets you down and cups your face. “I can't wait to be your husband, and a dad.”

“Me neither.” You grin and he bumps his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too. To the moon and back.”

You close your eyes and smile. “To the moon and back.”

End

______________________________________

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me everything you thought, felt, or things you wanna know! I appreciate every ask and reblog I receive. Please please please leave feedback via ask, reply, message or reblog! 

Thank you again. Without amazing readers I’d never have kept writing. 

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[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

A Dinner to Die For

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Words: 1,110 Summary: No one goes after y/n family and gets away with it, no one. Warnings: Poisoning, fluff, allusions to sexy times. A/N: If you liked this please leave feedback/reblogs and consider donating to my Ko-Fi and/or Patreon, links are in my bio. If you want to be tagged in future works please send me an ask.

It's a mild evening in the middle of June. In a modest house in Brooklyn wafts the mouthwatering smell of chicken parmesan, garlic bread, and homemade peach iced tea. In the main bedroom, y/n stands admiring her appearance one final time, from her perfectly styled hair and make-up designed to make her eyes appear large and doe-like to the pink sundress clinging in all the right places, she is the picture of innocence. A ring of the front doorbell has her putting away the lip stain and rushing downstairs to greet her guest.

Standing on the other side of the door is a young man with blond hair and a charming smile, but with cold and calculating blue eyes, dressed in black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a black suit jacket, holding a bouquet of red roses. "Good evening, my sweet. These are for you" he greets her as he hands over the flowers.

"Good evening, Alex. They're gorgeous, thank you," she smiles as she takes the flowers and invites Alex inside before going in search of a vase. "Dinner is almost ready. Would you pour us a drink while I get everything plated up?" y/n calls from the kitchen where she has just finished putting the flowers in a vase filled with water.

"It would be my pleasure," he calls back, already reaching for the chilled bottle of iced tea and two glasses.

In the kitchen, y/n quickly plates up the food before sprinkling some special seasoning over Alex's plate and carrying both to the table. "Thank you," she says with a light blush as she takes the offered glass and sits down on her chair.

"Here's to us," Alex toasts before lightly clinking their glasses together and taking a long sip. "This is delicious, did you brew it yourself?" he complements her with a wolfish smile.

"As a matter of fact, I did and I'm glad you like it," she smiles at him before digging into her food, watching with a hidden smirk as he follows suit.

After a few bites of the chicken, Alex starts coughing, thumping at his chest and chugging down the rest of his drink while y/n watches on with a growing smirk. "What's wrong, Alexander? Don't you like the poison I put in your food?" she asks with faux innocence.

"Why?" he hacks out between his struggles to draw breath into his lungs.

"It's simple, really. You made the mistake after coming for my family, and I could not let that stand. No one harms a hair on their heads without facing the consequences," she explains as she delicately wipes her mouth with her napkin.

"You'll...pay...for...this!" he hisses, which only serves to amuse her even more as she lets out a light laugh.

"The only one that will be paying tonight is you, Alexander. Give my regards to your father," she smirks as he gives one last ragged breath before slumping over in his chair, face landing on his plate.

Y/n stands from her seat and walks out of the room. She takes her black peacoat from the coat closet and steps out into the mild summer air. Locking the door behind her, she makes for her car, parked across the street. Once inside, she fishes her phone from her pocket and hits the call button. The phone is picked up after only two rings. "Hello?" says the calm female voice on the other side of the line.

"It's done. Tell Coulson he can come to pick up the trash," she says before ending the call and starting up the car.

An hour later she stops outside a large Colonial-style three-story home in upstate New-York. She gets out, grabbing the paper bags from the passenger seat and makes her way to the front door. Before she can reach for her keys, the door swings open to reveal Steve and Bucky, both dressed in soft plaid sleep shorts and grey t-shirts, looking beyond relieved at the sight of her. Wordlessly, they reach out and pull her inside their home and into their arms.

They stand like that for what feels like an eternity, just soaking up the irrevocable feeling of home. Eventually, though, they let go of each other and y/n holds up the bags. "I brought Chinese," she grins, handing the bags over to Bucky who leads the way into the living room where the title card for The Little Mermaid is paused on the tv screen and two toddlers dressed in Buzz Lightyear and Tinkerbell footie pajamas, clutching their respective bears are sitting on the couch, waiting for the adults. When they see y/n step through the doorway, they both reach out their little arms, crying out happily "Mama!"

Y/n rushes over to the couch, crouching in front of the children and bringing them into her arms for a warm tight hug, kissing their little faces and fighting back the tears that threaten to make an appearance. "Oh my babies, mama missed you so so much!" she exclaims.

Twenty minutes later find all five of them, with y/n now also dressed in plaid sleep shorts and a grey tank top, make-up free, and hair in a messy bun, cuddled close together on the couch, eating Chinese take-out and watching The Little Mermaid together.

Once the food was all gone Jamie and Sarah both lay snuggled into their mom with their little heads on her chest and holding each other's hands as they drifted off to sleep. Making sure not to wake either of them, Steve and Bucky both shifted closer, nuzzling into their wife's neck. "How was the dinner?" Bucky whispers before placing a feather-soft kiss to her jaw.

"It was to die for, although I doubt that he would feel the same once he wakes up tomorrow with a nasty headache. Remind me to thank Tony for the tranquilizer," she whispers back, relaxing into both her husbands' embrace.

"Coulson called while you were gone. He told us he picked him up and they're on their way to The Raft right now, so by this time tomorrow he'll be sitting in a cozy cell with the rest of his associates," Steve informs her as he kisses her temple softly.

"Good. Now, how about we put our little angels to bed then go cuddle in our room. I've missed sleeping in my own bed," y/n suggests with a flirtatious wiggle of her eyebrow suggesting that they would be getting very little sleep that night, but that was more thank okay with Steve and Bucky who were more than happy to have their best girl back exactly where she belonged; in their arms.

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[oreranoneiro]

Matsumura Hokuto 10,000 characters interview (Myojo 2020 May Edition)

When we formed a circle that day, it was the moment we promised, “Let’s go on with the 6 of us, forever.”

If it's these 6 members, we'll be even greater.

Once again, congratulations on your debut.

Thank you very much. But we'll go further from now on. I'm super passionate right now. I want to keep working and do something every day. Many thoughts are running through my head; what more I can do and what is coming from now on, about the group and about the members. From there, I realised that if it's these 6 members, we'll be even greater. That's why it's only the beginning.

You're not satisfied with the current situation?

Satisfied!? Honestly, right now I'm not. Not at all. I’m glad when people go, “Amazing!” at the current SixTONES, but I also want to tell them it's nothing yet. I want to tell them to keep watching the six of us. Because it's from now on. I say that but it's not like we have a fundamental vision of anything (laughs). It was like that from our Jr. era. We would go all out for one concert, but when the next one comes around, we’d have zero ideas. We can't conjure up a vision for the next thing. We might have zero ideas, but the passion of the six of us is driving this whirlwind. We don't know what's coming or what we'll do next, but if I think about our potential, it's isn’t only this.

I think being the main character is cool.

We’d like to backtrack on your path to debut. Do you have a memory from childhood?

Is it okay if this one isn't an experience? I vaguely like french toast. If I look for a deeper reason, it seems like I often ate french toast when I was a baby. After becoming an adult, I’d often eat it on the streets as it became popular, and it really is delicious. But what I like the most is buying plain bread at the supermarket, cutting the edge, and making a simple french toast by adding egg, milk and sugar, then pouring maple syrup on it. It feels like something my mom made.

You also like cooking, right?

I have liked it for a long time. I always watched my mom cook, so maybe it's the effect of that. When I was a kid, I used to dream of having a curry shop or a ramen shop. Apparently, I couldn't pronounce it properly, so at kindergarten I said, "I want to be Karen-san and Ramen-san!" (laughs) After that, I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to help people in trouble.

When you started learning karate in first grade, was it because you wanted to be a hero?

I don't remember the reason, but it wasn’t because of someone else’s suggestion. "I want to learn karate!" was something I said myself.

Wasn't the training strict?

It was strict, but I was completely absorbed in it soon after starting. However, around 3rd grade, I plateaued and couldn't advance. I didn't win matches, and I considered quitting a couple of times. My worried parents told me, "After going on this far, we think you should continue. But the final decision is yours." In the end, I didn't quit. It isn’t a cool story where I went on because I hated to lose. It was because if I quit, I felt like I would have lost something inside me. Also, the fear of betraying my parents' expectations was really strong.

Did you have any interest in the entertainment world?

None at all. In 5th grade, by chance I watched the drama 'Kurosagi'. I don't normally watch drama, but I think the protagonist is really cool. I wanted to imitate him, I wanted to be someone like that. But I didn't even know his name. When I talked about it in class,  someone said "That's Yamapi (Yamashita Tomohisa)." Everyone knew him. I suddenly felt enthusiastic and asked my parents to register me in the fanclub. I also went to NEWS’s concert. He was also really cool during concerts.

Then you send an application to Johnny's.

The first time I sent it was in grade 5. I sent the second one a year later. There was no reply to both applications.

But you didn't give up?

I didn’t. That's why I sent my third application in the first year of middle school. At that time, I consulted my parents. Maybe they saw how impatient I was and thought, if I didn't have a deadline, how long would I suffer for? Just like back then with karate, instead of pushing their opinion on me, they told me to think about the possibility of it not working out. So I came to a decision. If they did not reply by April 1st, the beginning of my second year, then I will give up. It was because in the second year, I would have to focus on high school preparation. That's why even if an answer came after April 1st, I wouldn't go to the audition.

When did the response come?

February. Just barely before the time limit. We have a video of that. I came home after the end of term exam, and somehow my mom is recording with a handycam. Then she gave me a sheet of fax. But instead of Johnny's Audition, written there was The Shounen Club back dancer auditions. It is a program in which only Johnny's could perform, so it was actually a Johnny's audition. For a moment I couldn't wrap my head around it. I felt sorry for my mom because she couldn't get the reaction she expected. (laughs)

Shimekake and I were made into a pair.

How was the audition?

We went from Shizuoka to Tokyo in a car. Dad driving, mom by his side, me in the back seat. As we came closer to Tokyo, the mixed feeling of nervousness, happiness, and uneasiness intensified. It would have been decided on that day whether or not my three-year-long dream from grade 5 will come true. It's not simply three years. For I who was thirteen, it was 3 years out of my 13-year-long life. But I’ve never done anything like dancing, and I don't know how many will pass the audition. The only thing I understood was that if the insignificant me made one mistake and they told me to go home, that will be the end of my dream. Realizing that, I started crying. I tried to hide it, but mom realized it and looked back at me, then I thought she might cry, too. When I saw her face, I shouted, "Don't cry!". I tried to be intimidating, so my tears stopped just like that. Now when we look back at it,  mom told me, "You were really angry at that time, huh." I laughed it off and said, "It was because everyone was so cool in the audition, there was no way I would have passed if my eyes were swollen."

What happened after you arrived?

We put on name labels. At first, we formed lines and someone taught us the choreography, and we danced intently. Then gradually we were told of our positions. "You, go forward. You, in the back.” The most vivid memory was when Shimekake (Ryuya) was by my side. I thought he was cute, but also really good at dancing. Then, Johnny-san called me over. It might be because I wrote my English proficiency level on my application, but suddenly he started speaking English. His pronunciation was really like a native speaker so I didn't understand anything. I thought 'Ah, I'm in danger'. When we were on break, I got called over by Johnny-san and the choreography teacher and they told me, "You, go and keep practicing without rest." I felt down. I wanted to practice but I didn't have any dancing experience, and I couldn't remember the choreo, either. At that time, I relied on Shimekake. "I don't remember the choreo, can you teach me?" When practice started again, Shimekake and I slowly went forward, and in the end we stood on the foremost center, in the position that's like partner.

How was the result?

The day after was the recording of The Shounen Club, so when Johnny-san asked if I could come, I answered "I will!". However, the night after the audition there came a phone call from Johnny-san. "YOU don't have to come tomorrow." When I asked why, he said "YOU are in Shizuoka, that's really far. I'll let you do something even greater." Doesn't that make you wonder what that greater thing would be? I thought it was a lie so that he could turn me down without hurting me, because I believe there's no way that kind of Cinderella Story would happen. If it was that good, everything would have gone smoothly from a long time ago. Even I know that such a convenient story would only happen to people who don't wait. That's why I keep on saying that I will definitely come, and in the end, it was like Johnny-san gave in.

You kept pushing and came to the recording.

Yes. in front of everyone, Johnny-san said in a loud voice, "YOU, why did you come!" and I was really embarrassed. But then he laughed and said, "You're really determined, huh." Suddenly he told me to appear in 'Jr. ni Q' corner. I tagged along to the waiting room, and there he told Goseki (Koichi)-kun. "Goseki, bring this kid with you." Goseki-kun agreed indifferently. When the time came, Goseki-kun pulled my hand to the stage and over there were Koyama (Keiichiro)-kun from my favorite NEWS and Nakamaru (Yuichi)-kun. I always watched 'The Shounen Club', so I can't believe I could stand there myself.

It’s because you are that; It’s because it's like that.

Right after you joined the company, you were added to B.I.Shadow, so the 'great thing' Johnny-san said really did happen.

I think it was the Shokura practice 2 weeks after I joined. Johnny-san told me "There's this kid who’s a great star, you should always be with him. Be in his group." and introduced me to Nakajima Kento. "That's B.I.Shadow, and you're in that. It was 3 members but now it’s 4 members. It's like that," he said. I'm already panicking, so I was like "What do you mean like that? I'm joining this group? There's no way I'm in B.I.Shadow, right?"

So you yourself were doubting it.

Yes. During the next week's rehearsal, when the choreographer called "B.I.!!" I tagged along. Everyone around me went "eh!?" and became a bit noisy. But Kento and (Kikuchi) Fuma really treated me well. There were times when I asked about the choreo and they told me to wait but didn't teach me, and for a while I thought they were unreliable, though (laughs). Looking back now, it was only a year after they joined but they still looked after me. When they were free, most of the time they would be checking my dance.

After that, you were active as a part of Nakayama Yuma w/ B.I.Shadow and NYC Boys. You also accomplished a CD release and a Kouhaku performance. 

All of that was in my first year. What an exciting first year.

Any conversation with Yamada-kun and Chinen-kun from that time that you still remember?

We barely talked with each other, so close to none. Because I was really shy. 

But in a magazine interview back when you just joined, you said never feeling shy is your strong point.

I was probably trying to look tough. I just joined and want to be an innocent, sociable little brother who anyone can fawn over, but I was actually forcing myself. I'm basically pretty cheerful and chatty, but also annoyingly shy toward strangers.

After that, there was a period where your workload lessened.

There was. At first, it was just a faint sense of discomfort, but gradually it became stronger. For example, I thought "Huh? There's no interview for B.I.Shadow this month, but Kento and Fuma went to an interview together."

I see.

I was a junior high schooler, but still realized the intention behind the upper and lower case letters of  ‘NYC boys'. The three of them wore red costumes, while we're in the back wearing different costumes. The workload was indeed decreasing, but I was just holding on desperately. Even on the song where Kento and Fuma are supposed to sing with just the two of them, I memorized the choreo so when the time came, I could say "I can dance it too!" and they would let me perform it with them. Of course, I didn't get the mic, and for a while I thought it couldn't be helped anymore. I struggled to think of a way to escape this world of leftovers. I didn't want to disappoint my parents and hometown friends, but more than anything, it was a world I really yearn after, so there was no way I'm giving up easily.

Getting into a group right after joining, you may look like one of the elites but in fact you were struggling too.

Yeah. I want to get even a bit more work, so I moved to Tokyo. When I talked to someone from the agency, they said "You can work from Shizuoka, too." I said it's not for work, but the school I want to enroll in is in Tokyo. Then after moving, I reported to the agency that I now live in Tokyo.

But then Sexy Zone's debut was decided, and B.I.Shadow's activity came to a full stop.

In a flash, any work was gone. My dancing position was pushed to the back too, and there was a month where I had no job at all. It was a really terrible time. 

But you looked forward without giving up.

It sounds cool, but I became sulky inside. It clashed with my need to prove myself when I got called. In short, I strayed from the path. I didn't cut corners when it came to dancing, but be it as senior group's dancer or something else, I stood on the stage thinking "Hey! Look, look! Look at me!" I remember singing KinKi Kids' 'Family ~Hitotsu ni naru koto' with glittery makeup and jingling accessories on Junior corner of Hey!Say!JUMP's concert. It's a lovely ballad, but I sang it with a piercing glare and skull ring on my finger. I was desperate to show how good I was. Even though I know better than anyone else that I'm not a special human.

You really struggled.

If the current me can meet me back then, I will warn him for sure. Of course, I could hear, "What a bad sense," "Such a bad image," "He got carried away," from all around me. But with that thorny appearance, the producer of 'Shiritsu Bakaleya Koukou' saw me and thought, "What a sour-looking guy, how interesting." And that was how my position in the cast was decided.

So that was the story of your selection.

Yes. But just because I got chosen by it, doesn't mean the stupid things I did back then were forgiven. But the me back then did go full force. Everything in life is connected. Right and wrong is a different matter altogether, but if you do something desperately, something will definitely come from it.

Even if this group will succeed, do I have it in me...

The drama 'Shiritsu Bakaleya Koukou' that gathered all SixTONES current members was a big hit. Did you feel like you will debut with these 6 members one day?

There was no premonition (laugh). But I did think what a random bunch we are. We left an impression of a group with six mismatched members. There were moments when I thought being with them was somewhat interesting. Like homemade hamburg steak. Even if we're wrong together, it wasn't a steak nor was it a restaurant-level hamburg steak with 100% cow beef. Made with different compositions, it was a homemade hamburg steak for a barbecue we ate together. But it was really delicious.

So slowly something like a group consciousness grew within you?

Yes. We got to sing together in 'Shokura', also appeared together in 'SUMMARY' and concerts. However, I could strongly feel that at first, each of us was focusing on personal success or were clinging desperately to this group as a way to survive.

In 2013, you won no. 1 in 'Jr. You Want To Have As A Lover' category of the Jr. ranking held by Myojo, right.

I was really happy. I totally didn't expect to win it. With what happened after Sexy Zone's debut, along with the push of the Bakaleya franchise, I wondered if there were still people who wanted me to debut. There's a superstition that the Junior who won will be able to debut, right!? As I had won it, it became an encouragement in my heart that even someone like me will be able to debut.

Then, in May 2015, SixTONES became an official group.

19 years old. I thought no matter what kind of future awaits this group, this will be my last group. There's no ‘later on’ if this ends in failure. The last chance.

Right after the formation, did you think you could debut?

At first, not at once. Rather than feeling like we couldn't debut for sure, it was a worry because we were not gaining popularity at all. 

I see.

It might have been because I was already worried about myself. Even if this group succeeds, do I have what it takes? What if one way or another I end up quitting?

As you brooded over it, what happened?

Slowly, a lot of things made me feel 'Huh?!' toward the group or members. I didn't try to be liked, and also didn't think anyone liked me. I thought everyone was struggling because it's our last chance and we don't have enough composure. Even though we're in this together, we hurt each other; we went against each other indiscriminately. When something went against our expectations, we looked for someone to blame.

For example?

This is just an example. Currently, in choreography, even if we match you can see our individual arrangement, and we respect each other for the way we dance. However, back then, with one arrangement, someone will go "Isn't that wrong?" and looked for a mistake. "He's doing it wrong." Each of us felt like we were right and blamed someone else, even though there was nothing wrong with it. I also did it to other members. I can't stand the situation where it was like we had an internal discord.

I see.

It's a world where no one knows what is right. That's why I built a wall so I could decide everything for myself. Be it advice or direction from other members, I isolated myself from everything. I finish everything so I don't have to talk with the others at the dressing room, I kept on reading books while putting earphones on.

Did you consider quitting?

My chatty yet shy nature kind of complicated the situation... But even with that attitude, I actually wanted to talk with them, and I didn't think about quitting, not once. I keep on thinking that even if we don't have what it takes as a group, let's go on with what we’ve got. However, I couldn't hide it and made my parents worried. Maybe I barely concealed my situation. "Just think of it as a circle or club activities. Because you got paid, you can also think of it as a part-time job. It's okay if you want to end it. If it's too hard then it's okay," they told me. "Yeah, yeah," I always answered lightly, but deep inside, I always felt sorry for making them worried. "Sorry, but I will go on. I don't have any intention to quit."

All other members said "Hokuto really changed," but was there a trigger to your change?

It’s because now in the dressing room, I'm the most talkative one (lol). But it wasn't only one happening that changed my whole world. It was more like many points that linked into a line. From my point of view, rather than being the one who changed a lot, it's the others who changed and slowly made me conscious that I can show my honest self to them. Everyone really changed. Saying we became adults sounds nice, but I think it was because we kept going on as these six members and slowly gained self-assurance.

Do you have an example of those points that linked together into a line?

Hmm. For example, I’ve always thought that acting is fun, but I'm really bad at it. It became somewhat of a preoccupation. When asked what I want to do, I will feel pressured to answer only with the things I can do. That's why I couldn't say I want to act. In interviews right after the group formation, when asked, "Hokuto-kun, what do you want to do from now on?" I couldn't answer anything. At that time, Jesse will definitely answer "He wants to act. He also looks attractive when acting, so from now on I think he will grow as an actor too," always. There was an instance when I think I can't let him keep saying it for me, I have to be able to convey what I want to do by myself. "I want to act more, but I know that I'm not good. So, I would like more opportunities to practice it." Then, I have to watch more movies, I have to do that, I have to do this. My activities, behavior, and interests changed. Not just Jesse, I also accepted small gestures from other members as the points became a line. I realized those things given to me were what made me change.

Forming a line with the 6 of us and bawling our eyes out.

In 2018, your activity broadened with the 'Johnny's Jr. Channel', you were on magazine covers here and there, managed to get a rare reprint, and the group rapidly gained exposure. Were there any moments that you think changed the wind's direction?

We did 'Amazing!!!!!!' in 2017. With that song, the direction the group is going for became clear. I think that was the culmination of everything. It was at that point that everyone evolved. In a way, 'Amazing!!!!!!' might have been the starting line for  SixTONES.

But you repeatedly said you were not focused on debuting, right?

Honestly, rather than not focused on it, it was more like we gave up on debuting. I think there are only a few differences between debuting and not debuting. The biggest difference for me is if we couldn't debut, this group will disappear one day. There's also the possibility of the members changing, because debuting means we are recognised as a group. However, debut or not, SixTONES won't disappear. We will go on forever. Somewhere along the line, I began to think like that. No one said it to us nor did we promise anything between us. But that's the biggest reason why I wasn't worried about debuting.

Then on 28th June 2019, you were informed of the debut in Johnny-san's hospital room, and also the fact that you will announce it on 'Johnny's Jr. 8.8 Festival' on August 8th, wherein a total of 300 Johnny's Jr. will perform.

That place on August 8th felt solemn. That day, on top of our joy, we had to properly tell everyone who attended about our debut. The friends who fought alongside us as Jr, fans who supported them. Of course, our fans are there too, also those whom we regarded as rivals. That announcement was supposed to bring joy for some of us, but also cruelty for the others. 

What kind of existence is Snow Man who debuts at the same time as you?

They are our rival, of course, but also completely our comrade. It feels like our only difference is the group.

How did you convey it to the family that had always worried about you?

That day, I called them right away. They casually told me "That's great," I will never forget those words. I can't put it into words, but all my life, thank you for entrusting everything to me. Thank you for letting me live this life with my own choices. I want to tell them thank you for believing in me.

Do you have something you want to say to the members who went through joy and sorrow together with you? First, Kouchi Yugo-kun.

Johnny-san told me "There's a guy who's really compatible with you," and that was Kouchi. Even after the B.I.Shadow's cessation of activities, we keep on being a pair. So from now on, let's be together all along our life.

To Jesse-kun.

From now on too, I'll keep on relying on you. Of course we will work hard too, but you are the face of our group, our center.

To Tanaka Juri-kun.

Juri, our engine starter, you are the strongest. Juri, you are amazing. Have some confidence, okay.

To Morimoto Shintaro-kun.

As the youngest member of this group, you still have things holding you back. But let's go through the years with everyone else and become an adult. Then that gap will feel like nothing.

To Kyomoto Taiga-kun.

… Keep showing me your figure from the back, maybe. More than anyone else, Kyomoto has always been a stimulus for me to have an awareness that we are professionals. Because you're the person who made me think that artists are great. If we are in different businesses, maybe I will be able to tell you honestly that I respect you.

The last question. When did you feel the happiest that SixTONES are these 6 members?

Probably this year's January 7th. During 'TrackONE IMPACT' Yokohama Arena, the last part of double encore, our last stage as Jr., the last moment on that stage. From when our debut was decided, I keep on thinking 'SixTONES is a group that started on May 1st 2015, debuting on January 22nd 2020. But we're not a group that ends one thing and starts something else on our debut.' However, at that double encore, we formed a circle on the stage, met each other's eyes and shouted 'Thank you!' as we cried. We bawled our eyes out to an embarrassing extent. I looked at the members' eyes and thought, "I've been saved by these guys. I'm glad it's the six of us," while my tears keep on flowing. I really love them, that's how I feel from the bottom of my heart. 

Doesn't matter if we debuted or not, I believe we will always be together. I’ve been stuck at certain points. Will we be able to stay together forever? When we formed a circle that time, it's not like we confirmed it with words to each other. But I think that was the moment where we promised "let's go on forever with these six members." At that time, I accidentally thought, "Ah, it ended...", even though I had said that a debut is not the end of one thing and the start of something else. It was really fun, and also manyfolds so very difficult. We hurt and helped each other. But no matter when, we will always go full throttle. That day, at that moment, the Jr days ended, and these 6 members will walk on with a new promise in our heart.