#besides all the sound garden stuff and the rise against shirt i also got him:

[landofgay]

is it Christmas yettttt

[brooklynislandgirl]

"I would marry you if I had the chance." He isn't joking, of course, but he's said it in a softly playful manner all the same. {I don't know, Beth, he was probably Inspired, I'm sorry.}

If I would, could you? ||-

Sheer gauzy curtains waft in the breeze coming in through the window, paired with moonlight bright enough to silver many of the furnishings of the room. There's no hint of rain that she can taste but the air is redolent with the flowers from the garden down below, and the heat of the day and the heavy humidity have given way to a now familiar coolness that doesn't make their proximity an onerous burden.

She doesn't stir from where she lays on her side, knees slightly drawn up, one arm bent beneath her pillow, the other at the inward slope of her waist entangled with his so that their fingers are braided together in loose enough a fashion that if he needed to get up it would be easier than extricating the leg of his caught between both of hers, or the one under her almost completely. It isn't often that Anakin chooses or simply becomes the 'big spoon' as it were and maybe she is enjoying being wrapped up in him. The only real pity to the situation is that she can't, without turning her head, see his face, limned in the soft light coming from the window and back lit by her lighthouse nightlight.

She doesn't turn because she also expects that maybe he's softly talking to her because he thinks she's asleep. Normally around this time in the early mornings if he's still in bed ~ a fairly recent development between them where propriety takes a backseat to comfort and their almost always more than mutual proclivity of finding closeness and solace through touch~ Anakin is tossing and turning, sometimes accompanied by soft, usually wordless murmurs that she can't quite find shape and function in but knows it's dreams that aren't any more pleasant for him than her own night terrors are for herself just loud enough to rest on the edges of her perceptions.

She almost wants to ask if he's actually slept yet or if he's kept a vigil over her for the past few hours when exhaustion finally managed to sink into her. Insomnia is another one of their commonalities. Neither one seems willing to risk closing their eyes until they have no choice in the matter. She doesn't even really remember getting up the stairs and into bed in the first place. At the same time, the idea of Anakin making sure she didn't curl up on the stairs, or falling asleep in the tub isn't an awful one. Neither would it be the end of the world if he'd helped her slip out of her scrubs ~a last minute after hours emergency~ and into the thin and a little baggy, little overlong tee-shirt that she knows for a fact didn't come from her closet. The material of it is worn to the point of being almost gossamer. Embedded with all the smells she associates in very good ways with him. The kind of thing she'd be inclined to steal borrow for herself if he weren't around to give her permission. Just so she could feel more closely connected.

But speaking would ruin the moment if he does think she's insensible to the world. It would ruin the moment to answer him, even if his tone might otherwise suggest that he knows what she's thinking. And that might very well be the case because Beth suspects that he has an affinity with Uhane'hana, the sphere of Mind. Not that she knows for certain, she herself is inept at it, never quite able to harness that art though her brother...s....were quite talented.

Speaking would also mean she'd inadvertently hurt his feelings. Not because she would say something cruel or spiteful to him. She can't imagine ever being so harsh, so angry with Anakin that she would want to savage him to verbal pieces and do more damage than she could ever do to his physical body, which to be honest would be easier on him and far more devastating that she can actually say. It wouldn't be the first time that someone he cared about harmed him, and unfortunately, she doesn't think it will be the last. But no, she'd rather not do any of that, not in any way. The hurt would stem from the fact that Beth isn't nearly as enchanted with herself as Anakin seems to be. As if he can't see the flaws and the disappointments that make up her central being. That he can't see the terrible failures that she cannot begin to make up for. That she isn't as perfect as she wishes she could be and that he really does deserve someone better, younger, less problematic in the long run. It would hurt because his heart is still pure enough not to see those things, to have a counter-argument for every single fault she could lay at his feet, and to be honest Beth knows she can never really measure up to his generosity of opinion. Just like she knows she really wants to be the person he sees when he looks at her, all quiet and troubled eyes, fidgeting fingers and so almost timid of voice.

That's always endeared her, that wonderfully creative and often time broken vocabulary at his, like poetry spoken out of the side-mouth of a sailor. The revelation of a voracious intellect that was never nurtured as it ought to have been, and the ghosts he carries in it from his past, still too painful to really brush with any sort of clarity. She would do anything, literally, to keep him safe, to nurture every aspect of his being that is within her capability. Even from herself, if need be. And in admitting that, she knows being dishonest, pretending to be sleeping and not having heard those few words... spoken in such a way that it could be brushed off as him knowing she was playing possum and was just trying to get a rise out of her...is not something he deserved.

Achingly slow and careful she lifts his hand ~the left one~ to her lips and brushes a fleeting kiss across his knuckles. Allows every ounce of her to be felt in that rather subdued fashion in place of the words she is having trouble finding. She decides that the only way forward is to try and mimic the same blithe tone he manages seemingly without any difficulty, though her own voice is far more languid than his. "But where we get us a' Elvis impersonator, at almos' four in da mornin' ke k��nane? Besides, I t'ink Bug's tuxedo still at da dry cleaner." The cat in question's ear twitches at the sound of his name but curled up in an almost complete circle at the end of the bed ~which even if Anakin were to stretch out to his fullest would still leave a good foot or more of unclaimed mattress~ in his very own pile of luxuriously soft blankets, he doesn't seem to really care what Beth and Anakin are discussing. It takes a little bit of doing, of shifting here and there that is an excuse for Beth to not have to be serious for the handful or two of seconds before she's turning. Before she takes even more time to once again have parts of him wedged between her knees, to wrap an arm around his waist, and to lift her face so that the bridge of her nose nuzzles along his jawline, her breath a warm sensation across his throat.

"Is...dat some kine...ya migh' be interest in, some day? I mean...not t' me specifically, but in general?" Beth had officiated dozens of marriages. To stuffed animals and dolls. To other kids in the same play groups. To shells and flowers and even trees. She would tell anyone and everyone who listened that some day she would grow up and marry her brother, before she was corrected in her grammar. Before she understood her mother and the Admiral's relationship. Before she realised that maybe that wasn't exactly something she could really have, not like the endings of fairy tales, not in movies and t.v. shows. Before the Admiral explained that she was defective in every way that really mattered. And now she has to wonder why Anakin would even want that. Want her, like that. Maybe he is only making a joke, maybe he really is just trying to get a rise out of her. Maybe is a hell of a word. She squeezes her eyes shut against the stinging prickle at their backs. Keeps her breath even and steady despite the fact that some latent kind of panic is beginning to set in, telling her she ought to have pretended to be asleep after all. She bites back the urge to ask what a chance would look like for him. She bites back on asking why he would say such a thing in the first place. Those little pieces of indigestible fear seem to pile up in her throat, forcing her to clear it and the sound is painfully loud.

"I mean... is only natural, an ya know how much us Verbena really like dat, right? Every kine...well, I should say mos' kine...wanna seek out a mate. Usually f' procreation but I no can help but t'ink it's f' company an' stuff, mutual survival an' all." Oh. God. Shut up. Just. Stop. Talking. Elizabeth. "Big ceremony or lil kine? I bet ya got a t'eme an' a venue an' everyt'ing pick out. Mebbe reception, too. I use t' wanna get marry on a beach back home. Sunset. Small-small. An' really surprisin'? Not a lot of blood. Maybe none, even."

[heartsywritesthethings]

Fire Force 5 (End)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

(No tickles in this one. Just soft found family fluff)

Shinra awoke with a start. After such a long day, he was happy to actually wake up in his own bed. The other station 8 crew members had been very touchy with him, even after his little…talk…with the captain. It was a nice change and honestly, he hoped that the others would keep it up. Something about the gentle touches of those he cared about the most…it helped more than he had originally thought it would.

Shinra pulled himself out of bed, carefully climbing off of his bunk and landing softly on the floor. The soft snores from his partner made him chuckle softly. While he would never admit it, the sounds of this annoying self proclaimed knight king sleeping help lull him to sleep as well. Arthur was curled up in a ball on his side, back to the rest of the room. Only a small tuft of blonde hair could be seen from the bundle of blankets. Looking at him like that, it made him think about his lost little brother. Shon and Arthur would definitely get along, especially with their shared sense of fashion. 

With that sad thought, Shinra left his room to go get something to eat. He couldn’t exactly save the world and his brother on an empty stomach. He padded through the halls of the station, wondering absently who else was awake. The sun was just beginning to rise and it was kind of a surprise that he was actually awake at this time. Usually, the captain had to wake both him and Arthur up once the others were ready for breakfast.

Speaking of, the delicious scent of eggs and bacon began wafting through the halls. The smell instantly made Shinra’s stomach growl. He peeked inside of the kitchen to see Hinawa standing in front of the stove. The soft crackle of eggs and bacon cooking filled the room like a song. 

“You’re not getting any until everyone is awake,” Hinawa said, pointing the spatula at Shinra. The rookie jumped in surprise. What the hell? How did he even know that he was standing there? The Lieutenant hadn’t even looked over at him. Shinra pouted and moved further into the room. The smells were absolutely mesmerizing. He stood right next to the lieutenant and stared at the food while it cooked, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to snatch up a perfectly cooked piece of bacon. 

There was a soft smack as the flat side of the spatula hit the back of Shinra’s head. It wasn’t hard, but it was still startling.

“Hey!” Shinra whined and rubbed the back of his head where the spatula had hit him.

“You’re drooling on the food, Shinra.” Hinawa said simply. He then used the spatula to poke and prod at Shinra’s side. “Move,”

“Ah! Aha! Okay! Fine!” Shinra giggled, jumping with each poke. He finally moved away from the food again, despite every fiber of his being just wanting to snatch up the food. Shinra grumbled something about waking up the others before he left again.

This was such a strange feeling. Being awake before everyone else was so strange, like being in a slightly different reality. As he walked through the hall, he noticed that Iris was kneeling by the fountain in their garden. It was obvious that she was praying, and Shinra didn’t want to disturb her. He would come back around and let her know that breakfast was ready after gathering up the others. 

“Why are you staring at her like that? Perv.” Tamaki said, though it didn’t sound like she really meant it. Shinra turned and saw a very tired looking Tamaki standing next to him. She was still in her sleep clothes and her eyes were only half open. 

“Wh-what? No! I-I was just–” Shinra said, his cheeks turning pink. Even though her usua malice wasn’t behind those words, she had still said it loud enough for Iris to actually hear her. Iris turned over to the commotion and smiled fondly.

“Shinra, you’re up early.” She hummed. Shinra’s feet set off little sparks with how intensely embarrassed he was.

“Careful, Iris, you may just make him blow up.” Tamaki snickered, taking a few steps back away from the falling sparks. As she did so, she tripped on her pajama pants and fell backwards. Somehow her shirt flew off of her body along with her pajama pants (physics be damned) and she fell on her butt, legs spread. Shinra didn’t even wait for her to hit the ground, just smacking a hand over his eyes. 

“I-I’m not looking! Just, please put your clothes back on!” Shinra cried, stumbling back as well. Unfortunately, he managed to trip and fall as well. Even though he was falling backwards, he swung his arms around to stop himself from hitting the ground. In doing so, he ended up falling forward, face first into Tamaki’s…uh…well, in between her legs.

There was a moment where no one moved.

“Get out!” Tamaki shrieked , pushing at Shinra’s head to get him out between her legs. Shinra jumped up and used his adola burst to sprint away from the two girls. 

“I’m sorry, sister! I was coming to prayer!” Tamaki whined as she scrambled to pick up her scattered clothes. Iris just sighed. Why did the almighty Sol have to curse Tamaki in this way? 

Finally, Shinra skidded to a stop in front of Vulcan’s room. He bent over, placing his hands against his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. Talking to Tamaki was always a risk as her clothes seemed to just want to fly off of her body. Even though it was never Shinra’s intention to do that, Tamaki still held the belief that tearing off her clothes was what he wanted. Sure, she was attractive, but if getting in those positions made her uncomfortable, it wasn’t very heroic to enjoy it. Besides, his brave lion heart belonged to a different nun in their station.

When he finally got his blushing and his breathing under control, he knocked on Vulcan’s door. No response. Maybe he was just in the garage. Shinra knocked again, but there still wasn’t a response. He decided to push the door open a tad so he could be heard better. Sol only knows how heavy a sleeper Vulcan was with how many machines he used to sleep around in his workshop.

“Hey, Vulcan! Lisa! You should get up for–” Shinra said. As he looked in the room, he realized that the lack of door locks in the station was definitely a problem. Vulcan and Lisa were definitely awake and they were doing something that the nuns just down the hall would definitely not approve of.

“Not the time, Sparkles!” Lisa yelled. Shinra realized he had been staring at the both of them for an abnormal amount of time. He clamped his mouth shut and slammed the door shut. 

Alright, two things. 

 Shinra was never ever waking up early ever again.

Doors to people’s rooms should not be opened unless the person inside says it’s OK.

Shinra could practically feel his soul leaving his body as the image of Vulcan’s freckled butt ingrained itself into his head.

“Breakfast is almost ready! Hurry up so that we can all eat!” Shinra yelled before jogging off to go wake the few remaining station 8 crew.

Licht was already up and typing away on his computer, but he exited a rather sketchy looking site as soon as Shinra opened the door. 

Maki was also already awake, doing pushups on the roof. He told her it was time for breakfast and she asked if he always thought that she was some meathead gorilla who only needed to eat and work out. He hadn’t even said that, but had gotten a smack on the head anyways.

The captain opened the door right as Shinra reached to knock on it. 

“Shinra! You’re up early.” He said, sounding genuinely surprised.

“I just wanna eat breakfast, but the universe is telling me that I should never wake up before noon again.” Shinra whined, dragging a hand over his face. The captain laughed and ruffled his hair.

“Were you trying to wake up the station, son?” Obi laughed. Shinra just nodded. “Yeah, my first time doing the rounds was pretty scarring. I appreciate it though. What’s the lieutenant making for breakfast? Smells like bacon.”

“It is bacon. He’s also making eggs and I think he was getting ready to make some pancakes too.” Shinra said, perking up at the thought of the food waiting for him in the dining room. Now that everyone was awake, he needed to hurry up and grab a plate before everyone grabbed all the good stuff. 

“Did you get Arthur awake?” The captain asked.

“Oh…not yet. He’s such an ass in the mornings.” Shinra groaned. He didn’t even want to imagine what sort of nonsense he would have to go through to wake Arthur up. If this morning was any sort of indication, Arthur may attack him first thing.

“Alright, I’ll get him. You just head off to the dining room.” The captain said and brushed past the rookie. He paused. “But, If the lieutenant is still in that maid outfit from yesterday, I will absolutely let Vulcan send tickle bugs after you.”

“Wh-what? Why me?! I didn’t even buy that!” Shinra exclaimed. A shiver went down his spine at just the mention of tickle bugs. No doubt Vulcan had some of those already in the works.

“Strange. They all said that you specifically picked it out.” Obi said before heading down the hall. Shinra huffed. Of course they said that. 

Shinra jogged over to the dining room. Thankfully, Hinawa was wearing his regular relaxed clothes. The only strange thing was the hat he was wearing on his head that read “Real men eat chocolate”. Whatever that meant. Some of the others were also gathered by the table. Shinra quickly took his seat, picking up the knife and fork beside the plate excitedly. He had been right. Bacon. Eggs. Pancakes. Fruit bowls. Everything looked and smelled absolutely amazing. 

“Shinra,” Iris began, “How are you feeling this morning?” 

“Huh? O-Oh! Fine, I guess.” Shinra said with a shrug, a little too distracted by the food to really pay attention. 

“That’s good. I believe we are all glad that you are feeling better,” Iris hummed and clasped her hands together in prayer. “I had been asking the great Sol to relieve your sad feelings.”

“Yeah, having you all bummed out really tanked the team morale.” Maki added.

“Is that dumbass sulking again?” Arthur asked as he stepped into the room.

Shinra looked around as the others began to dig into their food. As Arthur sat down, he began sleepily putting food on Shinra’s plate instead of his own.

“Eat, stupid hero.” He grumbled. Shinra watched in amazement. Even half awake, Arthur was still looking out for him. 

“I didn’t think that my mood was that important.” Shinra said, and he meant it. 

“It’s like he wants me to tickle him again, I swear.” The captain grumbled through a mouthful of food.

“Of course we care, Shinra. You’re a part of the family.” Iris said softly. Shinra blushed. Station 8 really thought of him as his family. It was sweet and it made him feel warm inside. Sure, his life hadn’t exactly been a joy ride, but this made everything kind of seem worth it. They all just wanted him to feel better and it had worked. 

“Thanks guys.”

 (15/25)

-Ga!babe

[eddie-boii]

Never Let You Go (part 8/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change). Language.

Pairings: Reddie, Benverly.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding. Here’s some Eddie and Bev bonding with some light angst sprinkled in.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

*

Tomorrow was the big day. Eddie let himself laugh with the others over dinner, listened to their stories and shared some of his own, but he could see there was something off about Bev. Her smiles seemed a little forced and her hands were always in motion, tapping away at her leg under the table. It could have been put down to pre-wedding jitters - Ben wasn’t too calm either - but this was something different, something Eddie recognised. 

When the Losers split up after dinner to head to bed or explore the hotel, Eddie followed Bev upstairs to a balcony overlooking the gardens where she lit up a cigarette and took a deep lungful of the vile smoke.

“If you say one word about cancer,” said Bev when she noticed him, “I’m throwing you off the balcony.”

Eddie leaned against the balcony railing beside her, upwind of the cigarette smoke so as not to breathe in the stuff. “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” said Bev, but it sounded kind of forced like she was trying to convince herself more than Eddie. “I’m great. I’m marrying the love of my life tomorrow, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Bev,” said Eddie simply, giving her a pointed look. She sighed in response and put her cigarette out on the railing, dropping the stub into an ashtray that sat atop a little table in the corner.

“I’m being ridiculous,” she said, head buried in her hands as she leaned heavily on the railing. “Ben is such a perfect guy - god knows what I did to deserve him - I just… This all feels so fucking familiar.” She dropped her hands, dangling them over the side, and shook her head. “I’ve had my fair share of shitty relationships, and I’ve just got this niggling thought in the back of my mind that it’s only a matter of time before this one goes to shit too.”

“You know Ben would never dream of hurting you,” said Eddie softly, remembering the dark bruises staining Bev’s arms when he’d first seen her again in Derry.

“I know,” said Bev. “I know that, I just… Being afraid is kind of hard to unlearn. It’s like… the default.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed.

“And it’s hard to trust my taste in men at this point.”

“Then trust me,” said Eddie. “Ben’s a fucking angel.”

Beverly smiled at that. “What did I do to deserve such sweet boys looking out for me?”

“You’re the one looking out for us more often than not,” said Eddie.

They stood there in silence for a while, watching the moon rise gradually in the darkening sky, flanked by millions of stars.

“Do you think things would have been different,” said Bev after a time, “if we’d remembered each other?”

“I don’t think it’s good to dwell on,” said Eddie. 

“Maybe I’d have ended up with Ben sooner,” said Bev anyway. “I’d never have married Tom.”

“I’d never have married Myra,” said Eddie, “because Richie would have made so many ‘your mom’ jokes I would have fucking noticed.” He would have also remembered some other things with Richie around.

Beverly laughed, but it was humourless. “We both married our fucking parents. How fucked up are we?”

“Can you blame us?” said Eddie. “We had a pretty fucking traumatising childhood. And we got so used to that shit, it felt wrong without it.”

“Was she really as bad as your mom?” said Bev.

Eddie thought about it for a minute. “I don’t think she was a bad person,” he said at last. “At least, she didn’t mean to be. I feel like inside she was just as fucked up as I was. She just wanted to be needed. It was not a healthy relationship.”

Bev nodded slowly and went back to looking at the stars.

“Was Tom?” said Eddie after a while. “Was he as bad as your dad?”

Beverly was silent for a long time, long enough Eddie accepted that he’d never get a response, but then she said, voice barely a whisper, “Worse.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that, so he just put his arms around Beverly, and she leaned into him gratefully, her face buried into his shoulder, either to shield herself from the cold air or hide any tears that may have been flowing. Eddie didn’t ask.

She pulled away after a while, just far enough to look at him. “Tell me something, Eds. Ben definitely doesn’t remind you of my dad, right?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“I don’t trust my judgement.”

“He is definitely nothing like your dad,” said Eddie. “Though now you mention it, he does kind of remind me of your aunt…”

“Don’t even fucking joke about that!” Beverly cried, slapping his arm and holding back a laugh. It was nice to see her smile after the conversation they’d just had.

“Why not? She’s a lovely lady!”

“Shut up!”

They both stood there giggling like school children, then Beverly gave Eddie another hug - one that was less like holding her up when she was breaking and more a thank you - before pulling away fully.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked. “I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Ok, but I should clarify that I’m gay.”

Bev laughed and smacked his arm again. “You know very well my heart belongs to Richie Tozier.”

“Does it now?” Eddie snorted. “Ben’s gonna be disappointed.”

“Oh did I say my heart? I meant your heart.”

“I have no idea what you’re fucking talking about,” said Eddie, face bright red as Bev started cackling.

“Oh shit!” she said suddenly. “You can’t stay with me. I can’t sabotage Stan’s plan to get you and Rich to bone!”

“Stan will have to fucking get over that,” said Eddie, face glowing even redder if that were possible. “I’m staying with you tonight, let’s go.”

“Aw, Rich will be so lonely,” said Bev, leading the way off the balcony.

“I’m sure he’s too busy jerking off to miss me,” said Eddie.

“Or doing both at once,” said Bev and Eddie practically squawked in indignation.

Still, Eddie followed Bev back to her room, shooting a quick text to Richie as he did so. Bev hadn’t made a big deal out of it, but he knew how much she hated sleeping alone. He was kind of the same, really; he’d wake up in the night expecting his mother to be there looming over him, checking his pulse and breathing like he might have died in the short amount of time she hadn’t been watching him like a hawk. Alone left the imagination free to run riot, to concoct new nightmarish scenarios or relive old ones. He doubted any of the Losers liked sleeping alone after Pennywise, and he felt kind of bad for leaving Richie, but he’d handle it. Bev was different. She had more than just that clown weighing down on her; she’d had a traumatising childhood even before that, and that was something that Eddie understood. He was the only other member of the Losers who did, and it was an unspoken solidarity they had between them. It was what made them such close friends.

They clambered into the bed, joking and laughing like they were kids again and this was just another sleepover. Bev stuck her cold feet under Eddie’s shirt and pressed them to his bare back, and he squawked and rolled away from her, stealing the covers until she beat him up with one of the pillows. It didn’t take long for Bev to fall asleep, even with the wedding looming, and Eddie figured their conversation had probably drained her bigtime.

It was kind of bittersweet, lying next to Bev like they were back in Bill’s room sleeping over on his bedroom floor. The thing was, as much as Eddie was happy for them, tomorrow Bev and Ben would be married, and she’d be sharing a bed with him instead. 

But Eddie? Eddie would go back to sleeping alone.

*

Previous Next

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Sometimes Jester doesn't smell like where she's been. Sometimes she smells like far, far away. Sometimes she smells like home and Caduceus isn't sure what to feel about that. (ao3)

A fact about Jester that Caduceus doesn’t always mention on the basis he’s not sure if it’s polite to bring up: Jester Lavorre doesn't always smell like where she’s been and that’s weird.

Sure. Okay. Lots of things about Jester Lavorre are weird, but her weirdness is so often an affectation – decorative as her skirts and ribbons. This specifically seems like something she may be unaware of and he’s noticed (because he pays attention) that her propensity to smell like someplace far, far away has a direct correlation to how much magic she’s using in a day.  

They’ve been in their new house for about a week and a half, building various domestic enchantments together, and as Jester lays light into yet another line of delicately strung filigree, he smells the ocean sure as he’s standing on the deck of a creaking ship.

Caduceus glances up from his own application of the light spell, warm yellow flecks of sunlight settling softly into twinkling nodes along a wire. The glow puts a gold dust across the blue plane of her cheekbone, hiding freckles a stripe of light. Her tongue pokes from the corner of her mouth, small and pink against her skin. He can see her tail flipflopping on the floor behind her precisely like an over-stimulated cat’s.

They’re sitting in the small garden enclosure at the foot of their improbable tree. A breeze ripples through the dark boughs, a ripple of leaves shaking loose to drift down on them. The thin lines of wire lay in coils among the roots and buckled stone where the arcane arbor thrust its roots between the stonework and into the architecture of the tower.

“Move, move,” she whispers, reaching across where he’s working to power one of the failing light clusters.

“Kay.” He obliges, letting her duck rather under his extended arm.

The lights sputter, then the glow levels out then intensifies. Jester sits back on her heels and resumes her casting. Enchanting of the domestic variety is, mostly, intuitive but still requires a level of focused discipline he’d been previously dubious she could maintain for this long. Given, she gets whiny and restless and must (much like a cat) take off running around the house yelling at the conclusion of their spellery, but she never flinches during the casting itself.

“Caduuuuceus,” she says, dragging his name out a little between her teeth.

“Yes?”

“I think I’ve got one more spell, but then I’m gonna nap. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“It’s gonna be, like, a big version of the spell, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna give it my all, so when I do I might get a liiiittle bit dizzy. Can you just sit next to me and make sure I don’t fall over?”

Caduceus frowns. “Well that doesn’t sound great. Maybe don’t worry about it, Jester.”

“No, no! I want to do it!” She flaps a hand at him. “Just come over here, okay?”

Caduceus resolves himself a little hearing that one pitch of her voice that says, through all things, that she can handle herself thank you and please cooperate or else. So he rises and moves to crouch at her left, the bulk of his frame hunched as a wall to lean against. Brusquely and immediately, she grabs his right wrist and pulls his arm around her waist. He waits while she kind of tucks in close and fits his palm to her ribs.

“Juuust in case I fall,” she says.

He put his free hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “I’ve got you. No worries.”

She grins at him, all fangs and pearly in the dark blue of her face. Then she’s hunched and focusing. Her hands circle over the wires in a series of quick counter-clock and clockwise motions, slim fingers proceeding with machine-like precision through quick somatic motions. He can hear her softly saying something as she draws up a deeper well of magic now and slowly the magic builds like pressure with every motion. Light gathers in the dim bulbs beneath her hand, hundreds of small, stacked pin light pulsing, humming, and growing brighter until the flagstones burn like a swarm of fireflies have settled in the tower nest with them.

“Wow,” says Caduceus.  

“Mmhmm,” says Jester. She doesn’t seem like she’s dizzy.

She also smells, suddenly and strongly, like the exact blend of wisteria, jasmine, and rosemary that breezes in from the back of the temple grounds in the late clutch of hot weather just before the turn to fall. He is so surprised, in fact, that he rather forgets that he’s supposed to be doing anything other than staring at the side of Jester’s head and proceeds to do so. As the spell builds so too does the scent of the Blooming Grove, warm and sap-sticky as summer, the light rising from beneath her hands and the smell of home in her hair as heavy as cut grass.

“Jester?”

“Yes?” she says, wiggling happily, gaze completely fixed on her work.

“Do you remember when we sat together in the crows nest? At sea?”

“Yes, I dooo.” She singsongs a little, her hands still outstretched, concentrating on her spell. “Why? Do you want to do more of that stuff? Because I would be super okay with that, you know. Practice makes perfect my mama says.”

“Remember when I told you, that you don’t always smell like where you’ve been?”

She ponders visibly, frowning at the boughs of their tree.

“I mean,” she says, “Yeah, I remember that. Why?”

“I have to ask, because it occurs to me I didn’t last time, can you do that on purpose?”

“Oh. No, I don’t think so. I mean, you know you can’t smell yourself super well, so I can never tell. I just— oh my gosh! Do I smell bad?” She drops her hands and grabs a fistful of her shirt shoving her whole nose and mouth against the bunched fabric, inhaling deeply. “Ahh! I can’t smell anything! Caduceus, you’d tell me if I smelled really really bad right? Like, I know you like smelly fungus stuff sometimes but not everyone else does and I don’t want to smell like Caleb, you know?!”

“You don’t,” Caduceus says, “but I honestly don’t’know why any of you say that. I think he’s self-conscious about it.”

“This is serious stuff, man! I don’t want to stink!” She airs out her shirt a little bit, whining somewhat melodramatically. “Why do you ask? Do I smell weird? What do I smell like?”

“Do you mind if I get closer?”

That seems to catch her attention. She blinks at him, big dark eyes suddenly a little round in the persisting glow of their fairy lights.

“No, of course not. Do whatever, man.” She says that in a tone that must sound very brash in her head, but emerges a little whispery. He scans her shoulder line, carefully, like a gardener gauging the strength of a vine. He eventually raises both hands, moving them up slowly to hover just short of touching her skin, impressing his intention to cradle her jaw. He peers at her, wordlessly and she nods.

So, he fits his palms there framing her face, setting his thumbs against the underside of freckled cheekbones. He leans in, gently drawing her head closer, turning her face so he can easily lean down and press his nose and mouth into her hair. He can feel her blink, the rapid little movements transmitting against the pad of his thumbs. Her hair is touchably soft and smooth, looping between his fingers and silk against his mouth.

He closes his eyes and carefully inhales – jasmine and wisteria, the sweet rot of ripe blackberries and briar. The thick, heady scent of late summer, his favorite part of the year before the extant decay of fall begins to take hold in all the green things. He knows, he know it down to the bones of him that he’s smelling home because in Jester’s hair he smells the strange, rose-like perfume of corpse blossom – the strange and ever mutating strain that breeds sweet and riotous on the funeral pyres behind the temple, deeper in the grounds of the Grove.

“Caduceus?” Jester murmurs.

 “I’m sorry.” He whispers it against her hair. “You smell like home.”

"What do you mean?"

"Like... like you've been walking through my garden back in the Blooming Grove. I can smell that on you. I don't know why."

Jester makes a small noise, then says, wondrous, “I do?”

He nods, moving to lean his forehead against hers for a moment. “I wondered if you’d done it on purpose, because sometimes when you use magic, you don’t smell like where you are. And… I think I’m just a little homesick.”

Jester doesn’t move at all at this admission. He feels her hands unexpectedly gripping his wrists, slender and steely around him, holding his hands there against her skin. Jester leans up a little pressing her forehead more insistently up against him, the pressure a strange relief. She murmurs something and the smell of sap gets stronger, permeating the air as the lights coiled all around them begin to waver and pulse different colors as a gentle cantrip sets them alight.

“Do you want to go home?” she asks, so softly he only barely hears it.

“Always,” he says, “but this is home too, you know.”

“You mean our new house?”

“No.” He pulls back just a little to press a small, careful kiss against Jester’s hair. “This is home,” he assures her. “You and the others. This is home too, okay?”

“Okay.” She lets go of his wrists and instead loops her arms tightly around his middle, crushing herself suddenly against his ribs and saying loudly, “Don’t scare me like that, Caduceus! I thought you were saying you wanted to go all the way back to the Blooming Grove, you know?”

“I know.”

“That’s really far away!”

“I’m aware.”

“Holy crap, I’m all panicky now!”

“I’ll make us some tea. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds good. Lets do that.”

Jester then reached up to take his head between her hands (he has to lean down just a little bit to allow it), then she tugs him down a little and presses a quick perfunctory kiss against the corner of his mouth. He can’t tell if she was aiming for his cheek and missed or his lips and missed, because she had to bounce a little to reach. But it’s beside the point as she catches his wrist and tugs him toward the kitchen, leaving a glowing string of lights on the ground behind them.

[lillotte17]

WHOO! More Oisin x Tonlen!

Tagging @scurvgirl and @feynites for all the OC refs <3

The morning after the Harvest Festival, Oisin does not quite feel like getting out of bed. The world is still and just beginning to brighten, and the only sounds to be heard are a few of Papae’s songbirds who are just now waking up enough to start twittering to each other out in the back garden. Everything seems soft and hazy, with a few cool evening shadows still clinging to the corners of their room. As if the Dreaming is spilling in through their windows.

They wonder if, perhaps, the time they had spent with Tonlen the day before had been a dream as well. If some stray spirit had seen the shape of their desires and chosen to paint the scene for them as they lay sleeping. It had all been so lovely.

It would be such a disappointment to find that it was only an illusion.

They sit up slowly, hair and nightgown fairly rumpled, and reach over into the drawer of their nightstand. Oisin has not quite had the courage to wear the scarf that Tonlen sent them yet, but they like to take it out and look at it a lot. To hold it in their hands. The fabric is smooth and slithery between their fingers, not beyond their station, but finer than a lot of clothing readily available in Daran.

They lift it to their face and brush it against their cheek briefly, letting out a sigh of deep contentment.

Their first courtship gift.

From their very first courtship.

There had been other things before. Fumblings. Awkward flirting and hasty liaisons that had never gone much farther than some sloppy kisses. Mostly because a lot of potential suitors had seemed reasonably intimidated by the size and prominence of their family, but also probably because Oisin is a little…odd.

They had been worried that Tonlen would notice the shift in their aura, and withdraw his interest, but he had not mentioned it while they were dancing. It seems impossible to think such a thing could have been overlooked. Perhaps he assumes that the change would be permanent, or that Oisin's shifts only ever happen infrequently.

They do tend to unnerve people sometimes, and they do not want Tonlen to think of them the way that those people do. That they are fickle and inconstant. That because part of their identity changes, the rest of them must change with it.

It is their first courtship, and they want it to be special. They want to believe Tonlen is special. That what he feels for them might be special, too.

Oisin tenses slightly at a suspicious rattling from one of the vents that channels warm and cool air throughout their room. A system of small tunnels that also serve as a huge ward of protection that incircles the whole house, when activated by Nenae's magic. It is also a passageway for small nosy siblings to wiggle through.

Sure enough, Mealla pops the grate off and tumbles out on top of his wardrobe in the far corner of the room. A tiny fox with huge ears, completely covered in dust.

"Good morning, little sibling," she chirps happily, hopping down onto the floor and leaving a trail of dirt in her wake, "Did you have pleasant dreams?"

"Mea, why can't you use the door like everyone else?" Oisin sighs, not managing to convey much disapproval. They never can, really.

"Where's the fun in that?" she laughs, shifting into her normal form and coming to sit beside them on the bed. "Besides, if I used the door, then everyone else would know that I came to bother you about your new paramour. You don't want that, do you?"

"No!" Oisin baulks, feeling their face darken. "I mean, he's not… We're not… Nothing happened! At least…not yet."

"Aw, but it sounds like you want it to!" Mealla snickers, leaning closer with a wide knowing grin, "Is that scarf from him? A token of affection? Was that what came in the box Nenae almost threw away, or did you take it off of him yourself while you were dancing?"

"Mea!" Oisin objects, properly mortified, "I'm not going to undress someone when I know my whole family is watching!"

"So, that means you want to undress him!" she crows triumphantly.

"Who is Oisin undressing?" Ardal asks muzzily from the doorway. He looks more than half asleep, his shirt nearly falling off one of his shoulders, and his hair an absolute bird's nest. He is flanked by their two younger sisters, neither of which look pleased to be awake at this hour.

"I'm not undressing anyone!" Oisin insists.

"The cobbler from Daran!" Mealla pronounces, almost simultaneously.

"A cobbler?" Virevas sniffs, making a face, "You've got a crush on some rough-hand who bangs bits of leather into boots?"

"Beautiful boots!" Oisin insists, already flustered. They are not very good at arguing, but Tonlen is not here to defend himself, and someone ought to. "He's from Arlathan. He's very fashionable, and his shop is so fancy. It's…it's like a garden. Full of bright vivid colors. It's lovely, you'll see!"

"Oh, will I?" Vir wonders, snickering.

"If he makes shoes, that means he's probably got some weird obsession with feet," Ardal says sagely, "He probably wants to court you because of the shape of your toes or something."

"That is not a thing," Virevas snorts.

"It is so!" Ardal counters, hackles rising, "I heard it!"

"Right," Vir replies, rolling her eyes, "From where?"

"People who know!" Ardal growls stubbornly, folding his arms.

"As if any of your grubby little friends know anything about what makes people attracted to one another," she scoffs.

"More than you," he snaps back, "You've never even had a romance!"

"Neither have you!" She retorts just as quickly.

"Why does it matter?" Einin wonders, injecting calmly before the other two can break into a full-out brawl, "Who cares if he likes your toes? If you like him, and you don't mind him pursuing a courtship, then the reasons for his initial interest don't matter all that much in the end."

Oisin heaves a sigh of immense relief.

"Is he actually courting you?" Ardal gasps, eyes going wide, "Has he sent you gifts?"

Oisin fidgets with their scarf, but Mealla heads them off before they can muster any sort of reply.

"He sent them a scarf!" she exclaims, pointing at the object in question, "Nenae almost threw it away, but Mamae stopped them. They still ran about two hundred tests on it to make sure it wasn't poisoned or anything, though."

"Mea!" Oisin objects again. They don't mind their family knowing about Tonlen, really, but they don't need to know everything.  

"You should have seen the look on Nenae's face when they read the letter that came with it," Mealla laughs.

"Nenae read that?" Oisin groans in abject despair. They're lucky that they got to dance with Tonlen at all, in that case.

"Was it a poem?" Ardal presses.

"Was it any good?" Virevas chimes in a moment later.

"It was perfectly sweet, and completely private," Oisin says firmly.

"That means it was bad," Vir surmises.

"The scarf seems a little simple," Einin notes with a slight tilt of her head, "For someone from Arlathan anyway. Did he think you wouldn't want something with more colors, or was he limited by his rank?"

"I like that it's simple!" Oisin exclaims passionately, tears welling in their eyes, "And it's only the first thing he's given me, it doesn't have to be extravagant!"

"I think it's nice," Ardal reassures them, reaching over to squeeze their fingers in a gesture of fondness, "Don't let the fashion snobs ruin it for you."

"I never said simple was bad," Einin points out, "Perhaps he did not want to overwhelm you with something too fancy straight out of the gate."

"That's right," Mealla chimes in, "Courtship gifts can be all sorts of things. They don't have to be encrusted with jewels. They just need to be something that the other person likes. Or something that gets their attention."

"Their attention?" Oisin wonders hesitantly, most of the courtship presents they've read about in books were things like earrings and fine clothes. Sheets of poetry and bouquets of rare flowers. Mantles sewn from starlight and bright boxes enchanted to play music. But his big sister's idea of attention-grabbing doesn't quite adhere to that vein of gifts.

Mealla nods, a nearly wicked grin spreading on her face.

"Nanae sent Mamae spiders."

The other children let out a collective gasp.

"They did not!"

"As a courtship gift?"

"Mamae hates spiders!"

"It's true," Mealla tells them smugly, folding her arms and looking extremely pleased with herself, "Ask them if you don't believe me."

Oisin feels as though they might faint. They love all living things, but… Spiders. They do not think they would like to get a gift of spiders. Some of them are poisonous, and their mother intensely dislikes them, and they do not imagine that opening a box full of spiders, alive or dead, would be especially…pleasant.

"Are you going to send him a gift back?" Einin asks them a moment later, jolting them from their thoughts.

"I…don't know," they admit, sliding the scarf between their hands again. Considering. "Papae and Nenae and Nanae all think that I should keep my distance. They want me to take things slowly and be cautious. And Mamae is worried, too. But… I don't want to discourage him. He's handsome and charming, and I want… I want him to like me."

"What's not to like?" Mealla grins, reaching over and pinching their cheek a little, "Do what feels best for you, little sibling. Our parents are going to fuss and worry regardless."

"But I don't want to upset anyone," Oisin sighs dejectedly, "The look on Papae's face when I said I liked Tonlen was awful. And Nenae and Nanae were tense for days. I…I don't want to be the reason they’re sad."

Mealla ruffles their hair affectionately before standing up and stretching a bit.

"I never saw much point in drawn out courtships, myself," she shrugs, "All the good stuff comes afterwards. But it's up to you to decide."

"That's right," Ardal chimes in, "And if you do want to send a gift, we can help you think of ideas!"

"As if anyone would come to you for advice on anything that requires a sense of taste," Virevas sniffs.

"I can taste just fine!" Ardal huffs.

"All right you two, lets take this out to the back garden before you break any of Oisin's furniture again," Mealla sighs, "We still have time to get some sparring in before breakfast."

"Sparring with him is boring," Vir says imperiously, "I always win."

"You always cheat!"Ardal insists hotly.

"Being taller than you is not cheating," Virevas counters.

"Why don't you both see if you can beat me?" Mealla suggests, as she ushers them out the door, "Two to one."

Virevas and Ardal's excited voices fade into distant babbling as Einin shuts the door behind them.

"You know, when I send and receive correspondence from my office, Nenae does not have the chance to look at it, even with their army of agents," she tells them pointedly, "A letter is not a gift, but I think they still have the power to be…quite encouraging."

So saying, she offers them a small smile and slips out the door after their siblings.

Oisin smiles, too. They can easily send a letter from their workshop without their parents fretting and hanging on every word. Perhaps they can even ask Tonlen to direct his correspondence there, if their teacher does not mind too much.

They walk over to their desk and pull out several sheets of paper, bright and hopeful that this might be the start of something wonderful.

They do hope that Tonlen does not mean to send them spiders, though.  

[werenzki]

Andre Burakovsky #1.4

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

Anonymous said: holy crap the andre series is amazing!!!! pls pls PLS write more theyre so cute!!!!

Anonymous said: omfg the new andre one was so good i forgot about your writing tbh until it popped up on my dash and i saw the word count and i was so excited!!!! i finished it in like 2 secs i couldnt believe it was already over haha! if you dont mind, woudl you write another part? (or 5 or 10 more? lol)

Anonymous said: can you do more burky? like either a continuation of what youve already written or something new if youre bored w that storyline? i dont have any specific ideas though so idk if this really counts as a request lol

Anonymous said: this isn’t a request, i just wanted to say that i loved your writing, especially the andre ones :) they’re so so adorable and he’s such a cute boyfriend/fiance! i’m looking forward to 1.4 :)

A/N: i’ve never gotten so much response from a imagine before wow thanks guys :)))) but wow i thought the last part of this little series was long, then i wrote this, yikes, sorry???? (also sorry for any errors or if it dragged on, i got really into it oops)

Word Count: 4,179

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could feel it in your head. The sound was deafening. You shut your eyes and inhaled deeply, then you opened your eyes again and let your last burst of adrenaline push you to keep going. Through your headphones Drake played, but honestly you could barely here it over your rapid heartbeat. 

As you rounded the corner you saw your house in the distance. Which caused you to only push yourself harder, wishing to get this stupid run over with. You had a full day planned, and the sun was only just rising on the horizon behind your house. Upon arriving at your front lawn, you stopped sprinting and bent over so your hands were on your knees. Then you fell onto your back swiftly and laid there as your heart continued to act like a jackhammer. 

Truthfully, you used to work out occasionally before, but after the proposal you realized just how much you needed to get your butt into shape. So early runs and late night gym sessions where the only things that fit into your schedule. Like today, most of your days were busy - from dusk till dawn. Setting up a wedding wasn't easy by any means.

Finally finding the energy, you let out a deep breath and got yourself off the front lawn. With the moisture adding to your sweat, your shirt was wet and reminded you that these warm summer days were seriously coming to an end. September ended today, which only meant it was another month away till your wedding day. 

"Kino," you hushed the black lab puppy. The little thing was predictable, and was jumping up at you the moment you unlocked the door. 

Some days you questioned why you let Andre convince you to get the new puppy. But other days, like today as you sat on the couch with a bottle of water and him nibbling on your fingers, you couldn't imagine not having Kino around. He was just a bundle of joy and you loved the little guy. Maybe not when he peed inside or anything like that, but he was learning.

As you went to refill your water, you opened up the back patio door, Kino got so wound up he ran right into the screen door. You laughed and then pushed back the screen so he could run into the backyard. Immediately he went to the bathroom, proving your point of just how much the little guy was learning.

"Kino!" You called for the pup, who quickly perked up his head from where he was digging - in your garden - and ran towards you. He got into the house and you shut the door behind him, then filling up his food and water dish before you went upstairs. 

Andre was still fast asleep, and you knew practice today wasn't going to be an easy one because the new season started up next week and the coaches weren't messing around. First game back for the defending cup champs was going to be a big one, like all the rest of their games too. So after a quick shower, you got changed into a pair of blue ankle jeans - which you rolled up at the bottoms - and a white off the shoulder top with some cute flower stitching. 

As you were putting in a pair of earrings and slipping back on your engagement ring you hear rustling from the bedroom. Then Kino was yipping and a low chuckle came from Andre. A flutter of butterflies came to your stomach as you leaned against the en suite bathroom door and watched as Andre wrestled with the rambunctious puppy. In the back of your mind - maybe a little closer than the very back - an image of Andre with your kids in the early morning came to you. 

"Good morning," Andre smiled at you as he caught sight of where you stood across the room. You smiled back at him and walked towards where he laid. 

"Morning," you muttered before pressing your lips to his. Andre had let the kiss become a lazy but passionate one, looping a finger into your jeans and bringing you closer to him till you were basically laying on top of him. You giggled and kissed him again, and then again. Then Kino was getting between the two of you. 

"Kino," Andre said while pushing the dog back, only he was right back in Andre's face in an instant. 

You chuckled and shook your head, "you've got practice in two hours, I'm going downstairs to make some breakfast," you stated while making your way towards the bedroom door. 

"Will you make pancakes?" Andre asked while throwing his legs off the side of the bed. As you turned around, Kino was jumping off the bed and running towards you, then out and down the stairs again. 

"Yes, and eggs or else your nutritionist will murder me," you said. 

"Works for me," Andre shrugged before walking into the bathroom. You walked downstairs, finding Kino playing with one of his toys, which you were just thankful it wasn't one of your shoes. Then you got working on breakfast. 

Most days out of the week you didn't get to just sit at the dining room table and enjoy breakfast with Andre. Which you were okay with, seeing as you were going to be spending the rest of your life with him. There were plenty of days to sit and enjoy breakfast and a coffee. Thankfully today just got the be one of them. As Andre poured your mugs of coffee, you dished out your guy's food and then set it on the table. Just as you took your seat, Andre brought over the coffee and sat in the seat beside you were his food was awaiting him. 

"How was your run?" He asked between a mouth full of food. 

"Good," you took a sip of coffee to wash away the food in your mouth. "I'm doing almost double as I started with a month ago now," you stated. 

"Nice," Andre nodded. "Soon enough you'll be running a marathon," 

You chuckled and stabbed your fork into another piece of pancake. "As if, I'm too busy for that," 

"Speaking of," Andre sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair. He patted his leg, motioning for you to rest your feet in his lap, but caused Kino to be by his side. Andre shooed him away and let his hand rest on your bare ankle. "What are you getting up to today?" 

"Wedding wise, or just in general?" You asked. 

"In general," he shrugged. 

You smiled and took another sip of coffee, relaxing in your chair as Andre rubbed circled on your ankle. "Well after you leave I'll be in my office for a while, going through my upcoming appointments and such, then my mothers coming over," 

"Oh," his eyes widened, clearly surprised. 

"Yeah, she suggested to come over and help with the invitations," 

"Alright," Andre nodded. 

"It should be good," you said, playing with the food on your plate, "fun, maybe?" You questioned it, but shrugged in response to your own question. 

"I'm sure it will end up being a good afternoon," Andre smiled. "Was there anything else we needed to go through before you made the invitations?" 

"Uh, no," you pondered a few things but as far as you knew everything was pretty set in stone. "Date, colours, we picked out the venue. You trust me with the design?" 

"Designing is literally your job, babe, of course I trust you," Andre chuckled and as he made movement settling his fork and knife on the empty plate, you placed your feet back on the ground and held your mug to your lips. 

"Good," you smiled over the rim of the mug and took a sip. 

"I've gotta get going to the rink, keep me updated on wedding stuff," Andre said while standing from his chair and bringing his dishes to the sink. He finished his coffee and then walked back towards you. "I'll be back before dinner," he stated. 

You nodded in response and smiled at him, leaning your head back in your seat to look up at him. Andre mirrored your smile and then leaned down to peck your lips. You said your goodbyes and then you watched as Kino followed after Andre, barking as the front door shut and he walked him through the living room windows. Finally you called for the pup, setting your own dishes in the sink and filled up your coffee, before grabbing one of Kino's toys and making your way to your office.

You threw Kino's toy in the bed you had for him in the corner beside your desk and then took the seat in your chair. The sun was shining through the blinds, so you turned in your chair and pulled them up, revealing the beautiful day and lovely back yard. The engagement party was two months ago now, but the lights still hung above the yard and you loved it. 

Checking the clock on your desktop, you saw you had just under two hours till your mother was to show. But also, knowing your mom, that meant you had maybe an hour till she was to call and asked if she could come earlier - which meant she would show up earlier. But that gave you enough time to finalize some appointments and deliveries for your current projects. 

As expected, you got a call from your mother, then she was knocking on your front door moments later. Kino jumped up from his bed and ran towards the door, barking at the intruder like a true guard dog. You decided to play it safe and scooped up the puppy in your arms before unlocking the door and welcoming your mom. 

“I didn’t know you got a dog,” she said while stepping into your home. Kino was still barking at her, but you kept hushing him and trying to get him to calm down. 

“Yeah, about a month ago now,” you stated. 

Kino sniffed your mother as she got close, she smiled at the pup and then pet his head once before turning around and taking off her coat. Your parents were never really pet people. There were a few cats here and there, but they were mostly to keep you company. In fact, you didn’t get your first dog till little Kino. 

“I’ve just got to finish something up for work, then we can get going with the invitations,” you said to your mother as you set down Kino. He immediately jumped up so his littler paws hit her legs. “Kino!” You scowled at the puppy. 

“Interesting name,” your mother muttered. 

“Uh, yeah, Andre named him,” you said over your shoulder as she followed your down the hallway and into your office. “It suits him,” you exclaimed as the pup stubbled over his little paws and gathered him toy between his teeth. 

“He’s cute,” your mother smiled down at the pup who was holding the toy for her to grab and play with him. As if that would happen though. 

“Thanks?” You chuckled, unsure if you were supposed to take the compliment for your dog. 

“How’s business?” She asked as you bent at your waist and clicked a few things, then typing some more and keeping your eyes on the desktop to keep focused. 

“Good, really good,” you nodded, “I’m actually redoing a home just down the street, so that’s a bit easier. Also have a few bigger projects besides rooms or apartments so,” 

It was weird, or at least it felt that way for yourself. After everything your parents had said and done lately, it was hard to fall back into the relationship you had going. Not that that was amazing by any means. But it was nicer than this. You glanced away from the screen to see your mom still standing near the entry of your office, Kino had settled by her feet - realizing she wasn’t going to play. 

“That’s exciting,” you mother smiled. 

“Yeah, it’s going to be great,” 

“Well,” your mother sighed just as you closed your tabs and put your desktop on sleep mode. “I’m proud of you, Y/N,” she said in a soft tone. You felt taken back, but it was nice to hear. After all, they didn’t always keep tabs on your career. 

“We can sit in the dining room, work out a design and everything for the invitations, then get on that pesky list,” 

You offered your mother something to drink once entering the kitchen, only she declined while you filled up your mug. It took you nearly an entire mug of coffee to even think up of everyone from your side to invite. Then you were cutting off a few, like you great uncle Joe, and then you were quick to bring up Andre’s - you very well knew this was going to be the hard part. After many years in hockey, he had many teammates and friends and important coaches and you knew he wanted to included everyone. 

“Andre wants to include Kino in the ceremony, somehow,” you stated while scrolling through your laptop. 

“What? How?” Your mother questioned, just as confused as you were when you and Andre had this talk last week. You quickly put a pin on the topic though and he ran off into the backyard with his puppy. Well he was yours too, but he loved that dog like it was his son. 

“Like the ring bearer or whatever,” you shrugged. 

“No way,” she scoffed. “That puppy would swallow them whole right in front of everyone in the church aisle," 

You inhaled and looked at your mom across the dining room table. "Mom,” You began - dragging out the single word till she looked up at you from the wedding magazine she was looking at. 

“I know, I know,” she waved at you, “no church, you want an outdoors wedding, yeah, yeah,”

“I’ve had this day planned for years,” you stated, looking back down at the screen that was still a mess of a invite list. There were teammates, friends, coaches, family, family-friends, and it felt like the list went on and on. You were now wishing you had tackled this even a few days earlier. 

“I know,” you’re mother sighed again. Glancing up, you caught the sad look on her face. “Well actually I didn’t, but I figured. What girl doesn’t, right?” 

You were biting down on your lip to refrain from saying anything more. It could very quickly turn into an argument, that you weren’t ready to fall into right now. Instead you needed to focus on making sure Connor McDavid and Dylan Storme got an invitation, after Andre’s time on the Erie Otters with the two you knew he’d like them to come. Same with that coach too. Another coach, another address and email to gather. 

“I have to feed Kino real quick, can you just write this address down on the list?” You asked your mother. She nodded while you rose from your seat. 

It was a good system you had going so far. You figured out who got the cut on the list of guests, then you contacted them to get their address and email. That way the printers who were in charge of making your invitations knew where to sent both the physical and digital copy. But as the time passed, you knew little Kino would be needing something to eat and maybe even a treat for being so good while you worked. 

“There you go, baby,” you cooed to the pup as he pushed past you leg and started eating the food. You got up, after petting him, and reached for the drawer in the kitchen that contained Kino’s things. Inside you found his favourite treats, causing him to leave behind his food dish and jump up. “Down,” you ordered. 

Kino took a moment, getting a little shove from you and another order barked at him before he got down. “Sit,” you ordered. It was still new, training him and all, but you tried your hardest. Finally after a few tries you simply just got tired and gave Kino the treat. 

As you walked back to the dining room table, you peered at your laptop screen - that your mother was intently looking at - and saw she was no longer on the tab you left her on. Instead she was on your Pintrest board, and not the wedding one either, the baby one. You swallowed and rested your hand on the back of the chair you had been sitting in. Realizing you were back, your mother looked away from the screen and back up to look you in the eyes. 

“You’re having a baby?” She questioned. You couldn’t even read her facial expressions right now.  

“Not now, no,” you answered, “but one day, yes, I’d love to,” 

Despite the tough upbringing and now currently relationship with your parents, you’ve always wanted to be a mom. Since before you could even remember you’ve had baby fever. But in no way were you rushing into parenthood. There was simply no shame in preparing yourself and also liking pictures on some website. 

“You’re not ready to be a mother,” she said. 

“What?” You scoffed. 

“You’re not even married yet, you can’t be a mom, Y/N,” 

“What are you-” you stopped yourself as you voice raised a bit. Inside you felt anger, upset over the fact your mother was overreacting so much. “I’m not trying to have a baby right now, mom, relax,” 

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she said back in a hard tone. 

“Well you freaking need to!” You threw you hands up into the air, “this is my wedding and my life, so just take a step back and quit judging me for a second, please,” 

Your mother didn’t respond. Instead her lips formed a thin line and you could see her mind was racing. She wanted to keep fighting. It seemed that was all she wanted to do since you gave her that call back in Sweden. She was realizing it finally - that you were no longer in her, or your fathers, control. 

“I,” you paused and closed your eyes while taking a deep breath, “I think I’m going to do the rest of these tomorrow, I need to start up dinner before Andre gets home,” 

“I should leave, your fathers flight lands in an hour anyways,” she exclaimed while getting up from her seat. She gathered up her things and you followed her to the front door. As she put on her jacket, she turned back around and gave you a smile. “I’m sorry,” she said. 

You nodded, “me too,” 

“I want you to know that your father and I are happy for you, and we want to be involved in this day as much as you’ll let us,” 

“I want that too,” 

“It just scares us, Y/N,” she sighed, “you’re our only child, and you’re just doing all this and growing up, and it scares us,” she stated. You could tell this was a conversation that she was planning to have over coffee while we chatted during the wedding planning, not while I basically kicked her out. But still, hearing her say this made you feel a lot better. 

“I know,” you nodded. “I’ll give you guys a call in a couple days, when I get a little less busy, plan something,” 

“Maybe a dinner, with Andre too,” she suggested with a smile. 

“Maybe,” you smiled. 

“Bye,” she said before opening the front door and walking out. Kino seemed to get the memo she was leaving a little too late, seeing as he was busy in the back yard, and ended up just barking out the front window as she got into her car. You let him bark while you walked over to the couch and sat down. You mind was racing, and your eyelids got heavier while Kino settled down. 

Then Kino was jumping up onto the couch and sitting next to you. You brought him closer, cuddling him while you got comfy on the couch and shut your eyes. Napping wasn’t the plan, but it seemed a lot better than sitting there and overthinking some more. Plus, you could use a nap. 

You woke up to the door opening and Kino jumping over you to race to see who it was. You already knew, it was Andre, and stayed where you were huddled up on the couch. You listened as he greeted the excited pup, then his footsteps went across the hardwood floor and into the kitchen, then down the hall, finally you peered up to see him looking over the back of the couch. 

“Afternoon nap?” He asked, smiling down at you. 

You nodded, “Kino napped too,” 

Andre chuckled and walked around the couch, then sitting down at the end of the couch, he lifted your feet and let them rest in his lap. He was looking down at his phone while gently rubbing your sock covered feet, Andre was just like that - always absentmindedly caring for you. It was one of the many reasons you loved him and were marrying him of course. 

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, glancing away from his phone to where you laid. 

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath and then let out a yawn. You closed your eyes and rested your arm over them. “I, uh, napped instead of getting dinner ready,” you admitted. 

“That’s fine,” Andre said. You opened your eyes and saw him smiling at you. “Gives us an excuse to go out for dinner,” 

You smiled back at him, “perfect,” you said. 

Andre got up off the couch, his movement causing Kino to start running around the living room with excitement, and then he put out both his hands for you. You smiled and grabbed onto them both, letting him hoist you up off the couch. Once on your feet, you leaned lazily into Andre - pressing your face against his chest. Kino began to bark then, running around at your feet. 

“Kino,” Andre bellowed, dropping his voice into a deep demand. You giggled as the puppy stopped barking and sat there. 

“He’s excited you’re home,” you stated as Andre put his arms around you. 

“We’ll put him in the backyard while we’re gone,” Andre said. 

Andre did just that while you made your way upstairs to freshen yourself up, putting your hair into a cute ponytail and fixing your makeup. Then you threw on a leather jacket and waited while Andre got dressed into a grey long sleeve and jeans. He looked damn good, causing you to stare at him while he drove down the streets of Washington. Andre smirked, clearing catching you looking his way. You weren’t being settle by any means. 

“Like what you see?” Andre teased. 

You smiled and tilted your head to the side. “Yup,” you answered. 

Andre laughed, turning the wheel with one hand while grabbing ahold of yours with his other. He lifted your head to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “Well, if it weren’t for our safety, I’d be staring right back at you, baby,” he said. 

“Where are we going to eat?” You asked, looking out at the Washington night. The street lights were turning on as the sidewalks looked busy with people. 

“Your favourite, of course,” Andre shrugged. 

You chuckled, “you know, Andre, we can go to your favourite sometimes too,” 

“Well, your favourites aren’t horrible,” he smiled. 

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as Andre parked the car outside of the small local Italian restaurant that you’ve loved for years now. You had found it one day during your junior high years, going on lunch dates with your best friends on the weekends was one of your favourites things to do back then. 

“It’s obviously you that’s too good to me, baby,” Andre smiled. You chuckled under your breath and shook your head at him. 

Leaning over the console of the car, you got closer to his face while the smile only grew on both your faces. You tilted your chin upwards and licked your lips while watching Andre - who was watching you, of course. His hand had found yours that rested on the console, his fingertips brushed over the top of your hand gently. He was sure to touch the diamond ring on your left hand.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” you said, “and spend the rest of my life with you, Andre Burakovsky,” 

“Me too, Future Mrs Y/N Burakovsky,” Andre said with his smile only getting bigger. 

An explosion of butterflies came over your entire body, somedays with this young man in front of you felt like it was all a dream. But as you leaned a few inches forward and brought your lips to his, you were proven that this was all reality. You really had found the man of your dreams, the one you were meant to spend forever with. 

[hawkeyedflame]

I already forgot what I sent you before. But you can also write about a young!royai first kiss.

First Awakening

Words: 1,765Rating: K+A/N: I know this was a long time coming and I apologize! I had a busy few days and I wanted to give this the attention I feel it deserved. Sorry for the delay! FF/AO3

“Ow!” Roy jerked his hand away from the snapping crayfish so violently that he elbowed Riza in the ribs. She yelped in surprise as she lost her footing, slipped off her rock, and fell into the river. The water was cold, an unpleasant contrast to the scorching summer day. Riza felt her skin break open where she landed on her palms and knees against the coarse stones; the deep, frigid water sloshed against her stomach, and her mouth filled with the taste of muddy river.

“Roy,” she cried out in annoyance, “watch your elbows, you idiot!” Roy was already reaching for her arm to help her up, but she smacked his hand away irritably. “I don’t need your help,” she spat as she climbed out of the water, already wringing her dress in quick, irritated twists of the fabric. Her scraped palms protested the action but she didn’t care.

Roy backed off nervously, dragging his fingers through his charcoal hair. “I’m really sorry, Riza! I didn’t mean to, and now your dress is all—” He stopped abruptly, his face suddenly going scarlet.

Riza opened her mouth to ask what the matter was when he pointedly averted his gaze, his ears burning. She looked down at her dress and uttered a rather unladylike curse. The pale fabric, in its soaked state, was almost completely sheer. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat in the grass, humiliated tears beginning to prick her eyes. He saw. He saw and I can’t even hide from him until we can get home.

Without turning to her, Roy asked nervously, “How are we going to get back?”

“I don’t know. I guess we can go around the outside of town,” she said, knowing full well that it was a bad suggestion. The hot flush in her chest burned away. It’s just Roy, there’s no reason to be so upset. It’s just Roy. You’ve known him for years now. Calm down.

Roy scoffed. “That would take ages. Why don’t you just wear my shirt?”

Now it was Riza’s turn to scoff. “Do you really want to walk through town bare chested while I wear your shirt? We’d get even weirder looks than we already do, and plus I don’t want anyone from school to see.” She rubbed nervously at her sore knees. “I just don’t want to draw any more attention to myself,” she muttered.

Roy sighed, defeated, and sat down a few feet to her right, his eyes still canted away. “I guess we don’t have a choice then. Let’s just sit here in the sun until you’re dry.”

Riza sighed too, though it came out more like a growl. “I guess.” He’s not going to say anything? Of course he’s not, she berated herself, it’s Roy. He’s a proper gentleman. Father wouldn’t be teaching him if he weren’t.

“I can tell you about how the nitrogen cycle works if you want,” he was saying. “It’ll help pass the time.”

Riza rolled her eyes at the back of his head and shivered as a breeze swept through the clearing. “Honestly Roy, do you think of anything other than your alchemy training?”

“Of course I do,” he protested, turning to her indignantly before remembering himself and snapping his head back towards the river. “I just really like science,” he mumbled.

Riza laughed despite herself, the heat in her cheeks finally dissipating. “Okay Mr. Mustang. Tell me about the nitrogen cycle.”

“Hey Riza! Let’s get some ice cream.” They were walking down the main road in town, just passing the market where Riza ordinarily bought flour and other necessities. Roy twirled his pocket watch through the air, having just checked the time. The chain swung taut and then, reaching the peak of its arc, crumpled as the heavy metal landed in his palm. He smiled sunnily at Riza, looking perfectly innocent, and she forgot for a moment that he was actually older than her by several years.

“We don’t have time for that,” she chided, though it was more to give him a hassle than out of any real objection. Ice cream did sound nice, and in spite of her desire to lock herself in her room and mourn her wounded dignity, Riza was tempted.

Roy smirked and held up his watch. “Don’t give me that. We have plenty of time. There was leftover soup from yesterday, remember? No need to start a meal from scratch tonight. Let’s get ice cream.” When she looked unmoved, he added, “Consider it an apology for soaking you earlier.” He had that mischievous glint in his obsidian eyes, the one that told Riza she wasn’t about to win. Still, she wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“Father wouldn’t like it if we went and had dessert before dinner. I’m sure he’d scold us.”

Roy tilted his head back and laughed, his teeth flashing. “Aw come on, live a little,” he teased. “Life’s more fun when you eat dessert first. And besides,” he continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “we’re not going to tell Master Hawkeye.” He grinned again, unfazed by her obstinance. “Sometimes you’re far too proper, you know that?” He reached out and ruffled Riza’s hair, sending the blonde strands askew.

“Roy,” she protested, ducking out of his reach and pawing at her rumpled hair. “I don’t have the money to be buying sweets,” she snapped. “We barely have enough for groceries anyways. You know that.” Riza felt an uncomfortable clenching somewhere in her gut at the admission. But Roy just smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it. Aunt Chris sent me some extra money this month. She told me to use it for something special. So let’s get ice cream, okay?”

She was out of excuses. With an exaggerated huff, Riza relented. “Fine,” she said, “but then you have to help me weed the garden after dinner.”

“Sounds like a deal to me,” Roy exclaimed, grabbing Riza’s wrist and all but dragging her towards the café on the corner.

Did he say…something special?

Her skin suddenly burned where Roy’s fingers touched it.

While Riza rummaged in the cabinets for a soup pot, Roy disappeared into the depths of the house. Upon finding a suitable pot, she poured out the leftover chicken soup and set the stove to a medium flame before filling the teakettle. With the soup heating, Riza went to wash some dishes left over from her earlier lunch; Roy had been so excited about going for a walk that she’d forgotten to clean up. She hoped quietly that her father had not visited the kitchen today, or she’d surely be scolded for the mess.

As she ran a plate under the water, her hand stung violently and she dropped the dish, hissing through her teeth. She turned her palm up and inspected the broken skin from her crash landing in the river. The heel of her hand was slightly bloody and bruised. She ran her finger over the injury lightly, testing its tenderness. Roy’s voice from the doorway startled her.

“I brought some stuff for your scrapes,” he called out. She turned to him as he placed antiseptic and adhesive bandages on the kitchen table, and he smiled apologetically. “I’m really sorry for getting you hurt. Would you let me help you?”

Riza contemplated him for a moment, heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. “Thank you for bringing that down for me, but I think I can handle it on my own. Besides, you already bought me ice cream,” she replied, avoiding his gaze by checking the soup. She stirred it slowly, knowing full well it didn’t need stirring.

Suddenly he was leaning on the counter next to her, a crease in his forehead as he frowned. “Of course you can handle it on your own. But I’m the reason you got hurt, so you shouldn’t be the one taking care of it. The ice cream was for getting you soaked; this is for getting you hurt. Equivalent exchange, right?”

Riza rolled her eyes and smacked him with the spoon. “You’re such a nuisance! Can’t you think of anything but alchemy?” But even as she said it, she started laughing, and Roy smiled because he knew he’d won.

And so Riza set the spoon aside and sat at the kitchen table, letting Roy patch up first her knees, and then her hands. She inhaled sharply as the antiseptic stung, and Roy murmured an apology each time. When he finished, he lifted her right hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the bandage.

What is this? Could he…? Riza’s heart stumbled.

As suddenly as his lips were there, they were gone; his fingers left her wrist and he was standing up to check the soup and Riza couldn’t quite process what had just transpired. Her face felt hot and her stomach even more so. She gaped at his back as he reached into the cabinet for bowls and mugs to serve the soup and tea.

She hadn’t quite schooled her expression by the time he turned back around, and he caught sight of the blush that had crept across her cheeks. She dodged his gaze, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the smallest flash of a smile cross his features. He slid her bowl and mug across the table, retrieved his own food, and sat down. When Riza dared a glance at him, he was looking into his soup, a light dusting of color on his pale face.

They ate wordlessly, the scraping of spoons the only sound, until, haltingly, Roy spoke up. “Sorry about that. My, um…my sisters always used to do that when I got hurt. I didn’t really think…” He trailed off, his face still tinged red.

Riza shifted in her chair. “It’s alright, my mother used to do it too.” She studied the grain of the table for a moment, a fuzzy memory of cool hands and warm brown eyes welling to the surface her mind.

When she looked back up, relief had flooded Roy’s features, and he gave her a warm smile. “You should tell me about her someday,” he said.

Riza returned his smile, a poignant cocktail of sadness and affection stirring her gut. “Maybe someday,” she hedged. “But for now,” she continued, dropping her spoon into her empty bowl with a clatter, “the garden needs weeding.”

“Of course,” he agreed, standing to gather the dishes. He gave them a quick wash and dry before turning back to her, wearing a grin that lit up his dark eyes. “Let’s get to it.”