#even google doesn’t prompt me when i enter the name

[pinkwarsworld]

The unexplained by Terrance Dicks

[thissortofsorcery]

Hiii, Gabii 💕

For the soft fic prompt meme:

14. Phone calls

and/or

17. fixing the other persons clothes absentmindedly or like tucking their hair behind their ear U KNOW WHAT I MEAN THAT SOFT STUFF

Thank you 🫶

YAM I FINISHED IT

I'm sorry it took me so damn long to fill this prompt for you. I know you like it when they're soft! I hope you like this one.

--

Steve never feels more grown-up than when he and Billy cook together.

It started during senior year — as a dare, of all things. They weren’t even together then, Billy hiding behind a wall of toxic masculinity to protect himself from Neil. He still tracked Steve’s every movement with his eyes. Steve was completely oblivious to his feelings and why his gut twisted every time Billy gave girls that look of his.

“I doubt you can cook anything with the shit you got in your house, pretty boy,” Billy had said, lip curling derisively at the content of Steve’s fridge. “When’s the last time you bought groceries?” 

Steve proceeded to cook the best improvised scramble he’d ever done out of sheer determination to make Billy eat his words. He’d had no idea it would turn out good when he started. Usually, his cooking attempts had a 50/50 chance of turning out wonderful or having to be tossed based on the smell alone.

Two years later, and Steve’s a lot better at cooking. He can make all the basics and some fancy stuff, too, with Billy or on his own — but the favorite meals are the ones he and Billy cook together, arms brushing, hips bumping each other out of the way, spoons being offered to taste. 

Cooking together is mostly a weekend thing since their shifts end hours apart. Steve’s used to fixing something up quick when he gets home from work so it’s ready by the time Billy is done at the garage. Saturday and Sunday are the days they go all out.

So Steve is caught off guard when his phone rings fifteen minutes before his shift ends on a Wednesday, and it’s Billy calling.

“I wanna try making Ceviche,” is what Billy says, skipping the ‘hello’ and going straight to the point. “So, do you want fish or shrimp?” 

“You want to make what?” Steve frowns, barely recognizing the name. He flails toward his work computer to open Google, but he doesn’t know how to spell it out. “Wait, where are you?” 

“At the grocery store, Harrington. Keep up,” Billy snarks affectionately. “It’s, like, cooking fish with lemon juice. It’s great.” 

“What are you doing at the grocery store?” 

“I got off work early. Fish or shrimp, Steve, come on.” 

“You know how to make this thing?” Steve says. He’s known Billy long enough that he doesn’t doubt Billy’s cooking skills, but he’s never heard of this dish before or that Billy had and liked it. 

“Yeah, pretty boy, it’s called YouTube. It has cherry tomatoes in it; you like those.” 

Steve grins. “I do,” he says. “Go with fish, I guess.” 

“Great,” Billy says and hangs up immediately. Steve smiles at his phone for no reason.

He’s home half an hour later, and he finds Billy at the kitchen counter already, dicing up the fish fillets into little cubes. Billy’s freshly showered, his work clothes traded for soft sweatpants and a tank top. Steve stops to admire the curve of his strong shoulders and the swell of his biceps, his eyes following the familiar expanse of golden skin that still makes his heart flutter years later.

“Hey,” Steve says, announcing himself as he enters the kitchen, so Billy has time to put the knife down before Steve hugs him from behind. Steve buries his nose in Billy’s shoulder, breathing deeply. Billy leans back against him, humming contentedly as Steve strokes Billy’s sides. 

“Hi,” Billy says. “I’d hug you back, but my hands are gross.” 

Steve kisses Billy’s shoulder and snorts. “It’s fine. How can I help?” 

“Can you get started on the garlic?” Billy directs. Steve follows, and they fall into a familiar dance in their tiny kitchen, sharing counter space and anecdotes about their days.

Cooking together is peaceful, the way few things in their lives have been, and Steve lets the feeling of home and family wash over him. His shoulders relax, and the headache that’s been threatening to bloom in his right temple fades away, insignificant in the face of Billy’s laughter at Steve’s impressions of his coworkers. 

A light touch to Steve’s forehead makes him blink. He looks away from the lemons he’s squeezing to find Billy brushing away a lock of hair that had started poking Steve in the eye the second he got lemon juice all over his hands. Billy’s hand is light, his fingertips soft as he tucks Steve’s hair behind his ear, and a pleasant shiver goes down Steve’s spine. 

“Thanks,” Steve says, a dumb smile on his face. Billy’s eyes are soft, watching Steve with familiar warmth. 

“Anytime, pretty boy.” 

The quiet, gentle gesture spreads warmth in Steve’s chest, down his spine, down his arms, all the way to his sticky fingertips. There have been thousands of them over the years they’ve been together, but they never fail to make Steve blush and duck his head like a preteen. They’re affectionate with each other really often, but there’s something about finding the space to have these little moments in the middle of doing mundane, everyday things that strikes a deep chord in Steve. 

“I love you.” The words escape Steve’s lips, the reflection of a feeling so natural to him that they’re behind every other sentence he says. 

The corner of Billy’s mouth ticks up, expression morphing into what used to be a smug smirk when he was younger, and now is a soft, fond expression that’s only ever aimed at a very select group of people.

“Sap,” is what Billy says, but the warmth in his tone is clear. 

“I know you like it,” Steve teases, smiling.

“What I’d like is for you to be done with those lemons,” Billy snarks, his elbow brushing Steve’s.

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs. “I’m done.” 

When they’re finished, and the glass tray is in the fridge, Billy pulls Steve to the couch so they can make out for the hour it takes for the lemon juice to cook the fish. And it comes out pretty damn good — though Steve’s pretty sure he’s biased, only because he and Billy made it together.

[dadumtss]

I saw another blog writing this prompt and I was rlly curious abt how you'd work with it. (Although, my memory fails me so idk if it was you or not)

So like. Slenderman having a personal assistant or a secretary or even some sort of heir that's like an Elle Woods type of character.

Like they're always wearing pink and being so cheery and bubbly during work, they use glitter pens to sign off paperwork and give stickers or little cheerful notes to their coworkers. They are the whole opposite of Slenderman, but they do such a good job that he can't fire them.

I just think it's funny to have Slenderman be this serious and menacing business man with a little pink, wide-eyed, girly-girl following him around 😭✨

I know the post you’re talking about!  

After a bit of a googling adventure I found the post here. It’s by @intimidating-fettuccine so you should definitely check out her version too if you like the prompt! 

______________________________________

Preamble

I do have a Willow x Slenderman fan-child who is very feminine, though she’s a bit too desperate to be taken seriously to use glitter pens lol. Junior is always a little ray of sunshine and I actually have him developing an interest in law and politics as a teenager, with Slender taking him under his wing, but he’s definitely not a girly-girl. 

So we’re going with... 

_______________________________________ 

Slenderman’s Peppy Secretary

Opinions of her around the office are mixed. A lot of people appreciate her bright dress, bubbly attitude and efforts in getting to know others and find joy in seeing documents signed in glitter pens or little motivational notes around the office. Others think it’s annoying, unprofessional and shows an unserious attitude about this very serious job.

Slender doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care how she dresses and if anyone else has a problem working with his secretary because she’s in a bright pink blazer, Slender’s power and intimidating demeanor ensures they keep that to themselves. 

He doesn’t care what type of attitude she has so long as it’s not a rude one.

He doesn’t care if she chats with those around the office so long as she does her job. And she does. 

Very Well.

But as he enters his office and sits at his desk, he pushes down annoyance as he deftly removes from his documents the many, colorful sticky notes adorned with equally colorful motivational quotes and doodles. Then, as he reads through his schedule (now free of sticky notes), he frowns lightly at the fact that it is annotated in glitter pen.

However, when he leaves his office for his first meeting of the day and she falls into step with him, handing him a leather folder containing a summary of the meeting’s topics, relevant documents he may need as well as information on the attendees; he finds his annoyance waning. 

Even more so as she keeps up with his longer stride without complaint and she goes through the information with him as they walk, explaining her thought process in choosing each document and further summarizing key information. 

But then he finds a picture of a baby as he flips through the professionally typed pages. Thinking it irrelevant, he reaches to remove it only for a manicured finger to hold it in place. 

“That’s Michaela’s new baby! They went with the name Toby instead of Liam! Isn’t he a cutie? She’s back from parental leave today and we’ll pass her desk on the way to the meeting so you should say something nice! Apparently the delivery was very difficult and...”

Slender doesn’t care. 

He’s perfectly aware that Michaela returns from leave today but doesn’t care about that beyond how that affects workflow. He doesn’t care what she named the child and he certainly doesn’t care enough to form an opinion on the ‘cuteness’ of her baby or whatever his secretary was prattling on about now.  

Now that the topic has been changed from work he ignores her as she talks, focusing his attentions on the documents which he continues to flip though as soon as she removes her finger.

They’re passing through a more populated corridor, flanked by offices on each side, when she suddenly stops. Slender pays no mind to it and continues on.

Only to stop as she grabs his arm.

Someone gasps. 

Slender feels his annoyance rising to the point of anger as he turns to her. She seems unfazed, a huge contrast to the others in the corridor who watch paralyzed in silent horror. 

“Michaela’s at her desk!” She whispers excitedly, “You should say something before we take on Councilwoman Kaia and the others.”

Slender considers killing her. His muscles tense and as his mouth opens everyone around them is certain they’re about to witness him rip into her with his teeth. 

“Councilwoman Kaia?” He says instead. 

“Yes? Didn’t you see the sticky note I left? It was the one with the heart at the top and it said ‘Managed to convince Councilwoman Kaia to join the meeting. You got this.’ And then a smiley face?” She replies, confused.

She continues, “I was up all night talking to her to try and get her to come so I didn’t have enough time to add her profile to the folder but I know you’re acquainted so I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

Slender was very acquainted with Kaia, the Head Councilmember of the Merpeople, the most populous aquatic cryptid species. Kaia was belligerent and stubborn but undeniably powerful both magically and politically. She often leveraged that power to get her way, including in locating meetings to the shore or outright refusing to join those that weren’t. Like this one. 

Slender studies his secretary. 

She seems unaware of the significance of her actions and seems to be focusing her attention on subtly bringing his attention to the open doorway she is standing in front of. He looks through and sees a scared Michaela who immediately dips her gaze to her desk as she notices his attention on her. 

“Welcome back, Michaela.” He says. 

The pink-clad secretary beams, and gives an enthusiastic wave to the shocked Michaela before running off to catch up with Slender as he continues on his way.    

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Babysitter SL

Prompt: Shade (lord) is in the midst of final exams and they’re more stressed and tired than usual while babysitting. They accidentally fall asleep in the middle of a calm spell and the god babies become worried. The next time Shade comes over, all of the god babies present a gift they all made together!

By @minnesotamidian-blog​

Shade barely noticed their surroundings as they entered the nursery playroom. Plastic clattered and they sighed as Radiance yelled at the top of her lungs. At least she wasn't screaming. Yet. The scene was set: Unn was still in a crib and chewing on a bar, Root was climbing slowly onto a chair. Radiance was knocking over plastic blocks as Grimm cackled away. For once, Wyrm was playing peacefully with a kick toy, batting at it with his tail. Root got onto the chair and squealed, raising her arms. "Big Root now!" The little blue-eyed godling squeaked out.

Shade picked her up, hugged her to their chest before holding her out. "Now you're a flying Root."

She screamed laughter as Shade tiredly walked her around the room before setting her down near some of her favorite toys. They made sure nobody else had claimed the chair and took a seat, bending over to pick up the fussy moth. "Ancient enemy!" Of course she bit their hand.

Shade winced and just ran a hand over her fluff. "Are you hungry for something that isn't void?" They spoke tiredly.

"Oranges!" She yelled out.

The teen sighed as he went to the mini-fridge with snacks and found some miracle of miracles! pre-peeled oranges. Shade pulled them out and put her in a high chair with one at a time so she wouldn't be tempted to throw the extras at them.

Finals were here and they were really taking it out of the gangly god. Why did they have to know stuff about inorganic chemistry? Why did they have to know about history nobody cared about? There were some fun subjects, but the finals seemed to even suck the fun out of those classes, going over notes and studying everything just in case. They'd been pulling long nights and the night before had been an all-night cram session-and they still had to come to work, they couldn't afford not to. They'd underlined all the stuff the teacher had said was important to remember and had written down stuff from the last finals about each teacher's usual tests.

It made narrowing down what to study from impossible to I'm totally toast. They groaned as they set down a calmer Radiance the opposite side of the room from Wyrm. She found toys that interested her, at least. Root wandered over to Wyrm, who was really into knocking at the kick toy and purring. Root settled nearby and burbled as she hugged and gnawed a plushie.

The teen couldn't help it. The kids were calm for once; their head started to tilt forward, eyes heavy. They were exhausted. Shade's eyes closed and their breathing deepened. At first, their toys were too interesting to notice their babysitter's state; but it didn't take long for Grimm to get bored enough to fly over and notice. "...Shade? Shade's eyes are closed." They landed and the four children not in a crib headed for the batlike godling.

"Is Shade dead?" Wyrm sounded worried.

"Don't be stupid, they're having a nap!" Radiance huffed.

Root looked up and swayed before patting Shade's leg. "Grown-ups don't have nap times." She was tearing up.

"Nuh-uh, they're having bad dreams and it's tasty!" Grimm clamored onto their lap.

The others joined, Radiance grabbing Unn to join them on the sleeping teen. Grimm rested between Shade's horns, Unn was on one shoulder, Radiance on the other, with Root and Wyrm curled up together on Shade's lap, Wyrm purring for once.

When Shade woke up, they were surprised by the weight on their body and forced themself to look down and around before moving. "Uh oh, I fell asleep… sheesh, I'm glad this place isn't a fiery disaster." They picked the godlings up. "You're not dead!" Wyrm exclaimed.

Root burst into tears and even Grimm joined in on the crying spat. Shade sighed and spent the rest of the time comforting them until meal time and settled them down. Time to go home for them all!

But the worry didn't leave the heads of the little godlings. "We should make something for Shade. If they're having nightmares, they might be sad." Radiance sighed. "But that doesn't mean I feel bad for my ancient enemy!" "What do we make?" Root twirled around, slowly turning in place until she fell onto pillows in her dizziness.

"Something of clay! I can burn it dry!" Grimm hopped around.

"But there's no clay." Unn spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "But there's crayons and paper."

"Oooh. We can make a pretty picture for Shade!" Wyrm waved his head happily. The group went for papers and each started to draw on the paper. "You're taking up too much paper!" Wyrm whined.
Radiance complained in turn, pointing at the color he was using. "I want that color!"

Wyrm growled and argued back. "I had it first!"

They started rolling around over their drawings, biting and clawing. Grimm gave a solid scream that startled the two. "You ruined Shade's pretty pictures!" He yelled.

The two looked at each other and hung their heads. "...sorry." Radiance muttered.
"-'m sorry." Wyrm looked away from the moth, skulking. "Start again? You can have the crayon, Radiance…"

Radiance took the crayon and they all picked up the last piece of paper. "I think this is better." Root spoke cheerfully.

It was three days later, once Shade had a solid night's sleep and finals completed that they'd returned to work. A large construction sheet of paper in grey covered in scribbles and rough names and messages was waiting for them.

Feel better soon Shade

Love you

Best babysitter

Tastiest nightmare!

Not the worst anciant ancient enemy.Shade could only feel warmth and laugh, hugging the drawing to themself. There were some days the job felt like the best thing in the world.  ------------------------------- By @tomatotimes

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By @loud-whistling-yes

"No."

The kids protested louder. Shade lifted the TV remote higher up, now above their head.

"Screentime's over, I said no."

Wyrm attempted to crawl up their leg in what was a rather pathetic attempt at stealing the remote, but was promptly shaken off. Grimm tried next, flying overhead to snatch the controller. Shade ducked and grabbed him by the tail before he could send himself flying straight towards the ceiling fan for the third time that day.

"Find something else to do," Shade said as they stuffed the remote deep into their pocket, much to everyone else's dismay. "Look, as much as I'd love to shut you guys up for the whole day, you've all been staring at the TV for hours now and I don't want to get in trouble with your parents."

Louder complaints.

"No, no, no. I am not cracking this time." Shade announced as they pulled Radi, who was hissing like an angry cat, off their jeans and pulled their phone out. "You guys got me last week, never again. No more TV for you, we're doing something else before I lose my money for tonight. Google almighty, what is your suggestion."

activities to do with children

fun activities to do with children

activities to do with toddlers

what can I do with kids that isn't a major headache to deal with goddamnit

Go to the park? Shade took about half a second to consider the thought before wondering why they even thought it was possible anyways. Five kids from the deepest depths of hell, outdoors? No. No park.

Finger painting? A pain to clean up, but better than outdoors. Then they looked up from their phone and considered the idea with greater thought. Grimm's wings, Radi's legs, Unn and Wyrm's… er…. Body?.... Nevermind.

Play pretend? …. If they hear the name Hallownest one more time they might just go insane.

Hide and seek? No. No no no no no. No more hide and seek. Shade was utterly sick of hide and seek. If they had to spend another second stuffed inside the closet or trying to get Radi off the roof they'll probably quit the job right there and then.

Baking?

… That might work. Sure, cleaning up is gonna be absolute hell but it's the only thing Google suggested that they haven't tried yet without horrible results.

Shade stuffed their phone back into their pocket and made a getaway to the kitchen, everyone else following, probably still trying to get the remote back. Butter, eggs, flour, sugar, oh, even some chocolate chips…

"Well then," They declared, pulling every ingredient out of the cabinet and fridge. "We're making cookies! And no, no one is allowed to touch the oven when it's hot. If you guys behave we'll have cookies in like, an hour or something like that."

The kids watched in confusion as Shade ran around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons and a bunch of other utensils while typing furiously on their phone.

Cookies recipe

Cookies recipe easy

Cookies recipe for beginners

Cookies recipe for kids

"What do you guys think about chocolate chip cookies?"

Multiple chitters of approval. "Chocolate chip cookies it is then."

Step one: sieve the flour. Oh wyrm, first step and it's already gonna go to shit.

"Okay, you guys can watch this but for the love of the holy wyrm, do not touch it." Shade measured the correct amount of flour before scooping Wrym and Unn off the floor onto the table so they could see while Radi pulled herself onto the chair. The Lady had already clinged herself onto their sweater and Grimm was doing just fine flying nearby.

“You guys get one chocolate chip each if you guys behave and don’t get flour everywhere.” Shade added. “Now, Lady, hold still and don’t move, I gotta keep my hands steady for this…”

************

"Okay, chocolate chip time." Shade popped open the jar of chocolate as the kids cheered. "Actually, we’re not supposed to be eating this plain, cause it's going into the cookies. But no one actually does that so you guys get five chips each for not setting the kitchen on fire so far."

"The recipe says a cup of chocolate chips but we all know that's a lie." They added while shoving their phone back in their pocket and grabbing a handful of chips before mixing the batter together. "I'm probably not someone you should take life lessons from, but here's one thing I can guarantee you should take to heart: never follow the recipe when it comes to chocolate chips, you count that with your soul."

Final step: oven time. The oven was preheated earlier, and the only thing left was to get the cookies into the tray and into the oven. "Now, who wants to make heart-shaped cookies?"

****************

Three deformed stars, five mutated trees, two malformed cats, several irregular hearts, a couple handfuls of chocolate eaten straight from the jar, and one (1) perfectly round cookie later, the cookies were on the tray, in the oven, and in a surprising turn of events, no one burned themselves… yet. Shade grabbed everyone and made sure no one was in a five-meter radius within the oven before picking up all the dirty bowls and utensils. “Cookies will have to sit in there for about 15 minutes, we’ll be cleaning up in the meantime.”

“Don’t look at me like that, and no whining, if you want cookies you gotta deal with the mess afterwards. That's the payoff, unless you're a wizard who has a passion for baking. Then that's fair, I guess." They dumped all the used utensils they could find and turned on the sink. The sief, three bowls, tablespoons and teaspoons.. Oh wait.

"Radi, the big wooden spoon, please?" Shade called, sponge in their hand and bowls being thoroughly rinsed.

Radi, of course, was not willing to help, because she's basically a feral house cat that just so happened to grow more legs than the average feline. Shade sighed and moved on to finding the next helper they could find.

"Grimm, I know you're touching the oven, stop it. I'm pretty sure you're immune to fire but not everyone else and you're setting a bad example for them. Get me the spoon please."

“Lady, here’s a cloth, help me dry the bowls up. Wyrm, … i have no idea how you can help, no limbs and all but uh, could you go get Unn? I have no idea where she went. Thanks.” The last sentence was to Grimm, who flew over with the mixing spoon and dropped it into the sink while Wyrm scurried away to find Unn, wherever she’s napping at.

"Radi? Radi, I know you're right behind me, stop pretending that you can't hear me. Lady has an extra cloth with her, you're on table wiping duty."

*********

“See? That wasn't so bad,” Shade sent the last of the bowls back into the cupboards and closed it shut. “And the cookies are pretty much done.”

“Also, no. You may not eat the cookies the moment I pull them out of the oven. These rules also apply to Grimm because it's unfair to everyone else.. Don’t look at me like that Grimm, I know you’ll eat them all before they cool and leave us nothing.”

The cookies smelt delicious, and were left on the dining table to cool. “Now that it's cooling down, it's naptime.”

A chorus of groans and wailing.

“It’ll be ready when you guys get up. Up up up, sleep time.”

**********

If you’ve been anywhere near toddlers before, you’d know that getting them to nap in their bedrooms is a near-impossible situation. And Shade was not a person who deals with near-impossible situations well. So following the months old custom, Shade turned on the tv, remote miraculously not pickpocketed, collapsed onto the couch, and waited for everyone piling on them to fall asleep before moving them into their bedroom and pretending they managed to wrangle them all into bed.

And it all goes to plan, the Lady and Wyrm were sound asleep on their lap, Radi and Unn were dozing off on their shoulders, and they're pretty sure the snoring from the top of their head was coming from Grmm. Now, step 2: get everyone off them and onto the beds.

… Or maybe later. It's been a long day, and the couch is pretty comfy. Yeah, just five more minutes, nothing wrong with that…

And if the parents came home to see a cleaner-than-expected kitchen, a tray of chocolate chip cookies, and five kids snoring on top of their babysitter, also sound asleep, then that’s nobody’s business.

And if the originally completely full jar of chocolate chips was pretty much empty, then that’s no one’s business as well.

-------------------------------

By @astronomicartz​

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By @hollow-kin​

Shade lord wanted to take a nap. They are sooo tired, but they are babysitting 5 baby gods for 5$/H. Grimm is a brat, Radiance his sister is also a brat. Unn was ether eating or seeping, same with grub1. Lady was, well sweet and cuddly. they needed to find a distraction for the kids, what would work?

Would tv work, would cartoons work? They had dinner already. Tv had to work or grub and radiance would destroy the house. They needed to take a nap. Now what to watch was a different question, they would have to ask the kids. “so, what do guys want to watch? “Movie!” well they were all in agreement, what was good. “What kind of movie do you guys want to watch?” “Fire!” “dath” “animal” “tree” “ok. No, we are NOT watching fire.” “awww” “i do not know what dath means so no. So nature show it is then.” they go over to the tv and turn it on, then select the world around us. Lady was quick to fall asleep, on their lap. Shade lord slowly fell asleep, and grub nested between grub and shade lord. Grimm climed up to shade lord's head. 

-------------------------------

By @hawaiianbabidoll

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By @neoliberalsatan

A gentle darkness surrounded the shade lord. He finally felt at ease. "finally", he thought, "rest." it didn't take long after that before the darkness started to take shape and a whole new world created out of shadows sheathed him.

But the happiness of the shadows didn't last long. A new and a new sound drowned out their world and all the animals and plants took to hiding back in his head. The shade lord felt the distressed creations stir inside his mind and woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He rubbed his lowest eyes and accepted the call

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh sorry dear, i know it's terribly late but we got an unexpected call and need to leave. Since you've babysat Unn multiple times we assumed she would like to stay with you. Is it okay for you? Can we bring her to your place?" The shade lord thought for a moment and decided he could use the money. "Yea it's fine, she's always such a pleasure to babysit." The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "Thank you. You're a life saver. We will make sure you're compensated accordingly."

Feeling a bit more awake after the phone call he started to prepare for having baby Unn over. After a while her parents arrived and after some greetings he was home alone with the baby. He walked with her in his arms towards the living room and placed her gently inside the crib. She opened her eyes for a moment after losing the feeling of someone holding her, but then closed them again and fell back asleep.

The shade lord decided he couldn't sleep anymore and made some popcorn and decided to put on a movie. It didn't even take 20 minutes before he got called again.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh yes finally someone who answers. Sorry but you're our last hope. We were going somewhere tonight but our babysitter called off. Do you think you could babysit our lovely Radiance? She's very good behaved and won't cause you trouble." "yea, no problem. You'll just need to bring her to my place if it's no trouble"

Not even 5 minutes later the parents showed up and dropped of their larva. Shade lord looked at it a bit confused but didn't get the time to say anything because the parents left as soon as they handed her over. He closed his front door and gave the larva a good look. She was white and had a fluffy appearance. She had 5 pairs of legs and yellow-orange eyes. She started to writhe a little bit and shade lord made sure to hurry to the living room. He took a pillow and placed it on the couch and softly laid her on it. She seemed at ease and rested on the pillow all stretched out

Shade lord continued his movie, which was finally starting to get interesting, but as usual the commercial break hit. He was in the kitchen making more popcorn when he got another call.

"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Hello, is this the babysitter?" "Yes, that's the one you're speaking with." "Great, a family member had an accident and i need to be there for them so do you think you could babysit for me?" "Yep, totally." "Thank you, can we bring him to you?" "Oh yea, no problem."

A few minutes later his doorbell rang and he hurried towards it. The father carried his toddler in what could only be described as wing-esque appendages. The shade lord extended his arms for the man to put his toddler in and felt a gentle brush of the leathery membrane. He shivered lightly before feeling a sudden warmth light up in his face, like someone has started a fire. When he looked back up the man was gone and he closed the door. The creature he was holding in his arms was unlike anything he had ever seen. 2 horns sprouted from its black head. The face was as bleak as white linen on a summer day. It seems she likes make-up because she had already 2 black lines running from her cheeks towards her eyes, eventually fading into the darkness of her head. She had the same membranes as her father and no limbs besides it.

He wasn’t even in the living room before he heard his front door being was under siege. He put the weird creature down and opened the front door. Immediately he was assaulted by Hollow, a very energetic child. He was wearing a green cloak today and it finally seemed he was starting to grow bigger than a hand. His horns has also branched into the inside. Immediately after Hollow jumped on his he could hear Pale complain about his unprofessional work attitude. Although he was bigger than most it seems he wouldn’t grow much anymore. His tiny stature didn’t discourage him from being bossy. Finally White entered. By far the biggest of the bunch, she was also the most introverted. Her roots slid elegantly over towards him and even managed to stop Pale from talking for a moment.

He took them inside the living room only to find that somehow the larva and the winged creature had somehow gotten into a fight and now both were in hiding in opposite sides of the room. Normally he wouldn’t make such a big deal out of this if somehow his couch wasn’t full of tiny needles and a chair was on fire. He rushed to the tap to fill a bowl of water to extinguish the little fire. With the attention being diverted Hollow managed to slip from the watch of Pale and could now be found in the corner Radiance was hiding. The larva figured out quickly he liked to play games and had soon enough set up a plan to make him betray Pale.

In the meantime White had climbed the couch and started pulling out the needles while Shade lord had figured out what the membrane between the appendages from the weird creature were for. Namely, for flight. And now she was attacking his horns and he couldn’t reach her. As if her flying was not good enough alone, whenever he raised his arms she would back off and launch a little fireball  All this commotion woke up baby Unn who slowly started to slither away from her crib to find food.

The shade lord finally had enough of the little fire hazard and rushed towards the pantry to get a kettle. Once he had found it he peeked around the corner only to find that fire hazard eating his popcorn! All caution was thrown aside and he grabbed her by the guts and put her inside the kettle. She tried to heat it but he added some water to it. While it evaporated quickly it was apparently enough to bring over the message. Now he could focus his attention back on the larva again, only she could’ve produced those needles, which White was making great progress with removing them as a quick glance told him.

Now back to Pale and Radiance who were apparently having a fight (Darkness, that larva really has a talent to provoke others). They were arguing near the coffee table, because apparently they wanted a fight so bad they just ran to each other and met in the middle. Hollow was climbing one of the legs of the table, but wasn’t noticed by the shade lord because he was too occupied with the other 2. He tried to separate the arguing pair but they were at each other’s throats. They even had summoned a needle and a tiny dagger to fight each other. The shade lord obviously didn’t count on this tiny factor and had soon enough one in each hand. He screamed, trying not to curse, barely not failing miserably, and Pale managed to escape. In any other situation this wouldn’t pose a problem, but Hollow, after eating some popcorn, found himself at the right edge of the coffee table and pulled out his tiny wooden sword he got from Pale. The larva, Darkness curse her, used this to her advantage and made the sign to Hollow to betray Pale. The act of betraying Pale involved jumping off of the coffee table and hitting Pale as hard on the head as possible. Naturally, all of this went according to plan and even brought some extra spectacle. After Hollow had hit Pale on the head he wasn’t prepared for the recoil of the wood and ended up hitting himself in the face.

All of this lead to 3 crying children (1 of them from laughing, the others from pain) and 1 very angry young adult. He put the larva on the couch and took care of the others while White held a close eye on the damned 10 legged thing. After Pale and Hollow weren’t crying anymore he took the little fire hazard out of the kettle and continued his movie, which was getting to an end.

After the film ended a documentary started and had all the kids hooked. He went to check on Unn only to find an empty crib. He could however see a slimy trail lead up his wall and onto the ceiling. It went through the door into the pantry where he kept his food and toys for the toddlers. He looked up on the ceiling only to find a sleepy Unn with a letter block in her mouth. Suddenly Unn started to make a very weird noise and fell from the ceiling onto his face. He swiped her off of his face onto his shoulder and then washed it.

He returned back to the tv to watch the documentary that was still playing and plopped down on the couch. Not long after he was asleep with White on his left shoulder, Unn on his right shoulder, the little fire hazard on the same arm and Pale curled up in his lap. Radiance and hollow were still awake but occupied with the documentary instead of causing trouble. After the documentary ended they crawled up against his sides and fell asleep.

-------------------------------

By @constantlost 

-------------------------------

By @bugbeee

Exhaustion seeped into Shadelord’s body, limbs weighed down by a heaviness they hadn’t experienced in a while. The smatter of godlings that lay around them on the couch, or on them in Radi’s case, was enough to convince them that they had died and that this was the Eternal Void that was created to punish them for cheating on that test in the 8th grade. In their defence, it had been on rock sedimentation.

Wyrm continued his grumbling from the corner of the couch, still infuriated by the attack on his person only moments before. Root, the aggressor, looked remarkably pleased with herself. Shade knew they should probably punish her further in some way but... well, to be perfectly honest, they simply were not paid enough to do so.

They really should have charged more. Fifteen dollars at least per tiny demon they had to look after rather than the whole bunch. Fifteen dollars was not enough to encourage discipline. It was enough for them to make sure none of the godlings killed the other. And they had thought they had come up with an ingenious plan to secure some peace and quiet.

After much wrangling, they had finally managed to set up two separate playpens, each far enough away that the godlings wouldn’t start screaming if one of them saw their rival. Wyrm and Root in one pen, Grimm, Radi and Unn in another. It was a gamble, but one that thankfully seemed to have paid off. Radi was still exhausted from the tussle she had just had with Wyrm, and Grimm seemed content to chew off the heads of the plastic Garbies they had found. Unn continued to watch, and occasionally helped Grimm execute a Garbie in a spectacular manner. It was both reassuring, and beyond disturbing. Root and Wyrm meanwhile were cheerfully ignoring each other as they both played with their own toys.

It should have been foolproof.

Unfortunately for Shade however, they were dealing with infants instead of fools.

For some damned reason, Root had decided that now was the perfect time to act up, instead of being the sweet little darling she had been so far. Her target, much to their dismay, had been Wyrm. In all fairness, the godling had probably deserved it in some way; most likely he had tried to worm too close in order to steal some of the grubpaste and mushroom sticks Shade had left out as a snack. Root had seen this theft as a cardinal sin, and had subsequently decided that Wyrm deserved nothing less than absolute annihilation.

The momentary doze Shade had managed to fall into was abruptly interrupted by loud shrieking and wailing, resulting in them vaulting over the couch to hurriedly find out which one of the godlings was being tortured.

The scene that greeted them was... well, it wasn’t any less ridiculous than some of the other stuff the little goblins had pulled before.

Using her flexible tendrils, Root had seen fit to wrap them around Wyrm, and aggressively dunk him into the bowl of grubpaste he had attempted to steal from. His shrieks and hisses had woken up Radi and drawn the attention of the other children, who were now cheering on Root’s attack on Wyrm’s person.

“Enough,” Shade declared, shooting a glare behind them, “Root, let him go.” Root looked up innocently.

No, she seemed to say with her eyes, justice must prevail.

“Justice won’t get me my fifteen dollars,” they hissed out in return, and they could have sworn that Root shrugged, turning away from them to dunk Wyrm into the bowl yet again.

“No!” they cried out, quickly whipping down to grab the poor child before he could be further humiliated. After finally being saved from his vicious tormentor, Wyrm decided it was time to go into hysterics, lashing out with a sharp tail to fully show his displeasure. Root simply watched impassively as the rest of the children cheered.

Shade wondered if fifteen dollars was even worth it at this point.

“Alright, alright, enough! Root, you go in time out. We do not waterboard our fellow godlings in grubpaste. Wyrm, calm down, it’s just grubpaste- Settle down!” they yelped out, flinching as something heavy settled onto their head. The soft fluff revealed that Radi had decided to fly out of her pen and taunt Wyrm in person. Shade wanted to sob with frustration.

The door cracked open, and Ghost peered in, head tilted curiously.

Need help? they signed, and Shade wanted to collapse in relief.

“Please,” they begged, and their sibling nodded grimly, even as amusement danced in their eyes. Shucking off their school backpack, they quickly headed over to the other pen and signed to them, bobbing their head up and down in a soothing motion. Grimm and Unn were entranced. Radi less so. She remained seated on their head, but at least seemed to have finally stopped provoking Wyrm.

“I’m just going to clean him up,” Shade explained uselessly, watching as Ghost simply nodded and waved them off. 

With a tired gait, Shade wandered into the kitchen and turned on the tap, listening as Wyrm’s panicked yelps grew louder at the realisation of what was going to happen next. Radi snickered softly, before leaping off and gliding back into the living room.

Bath time, according to the godlings, was a fate worse than death, and something to be avoided at all cost.

Unfortunately for both Wyrm and Shade, it was a necessary evil. Wyrm disagreed. Loudly. And with claws.

He howled furiously as Shade slowly lowered him into the warm water, softly scrubbing at the now-dried grubpaste sticking to his skin. Despite his attempts, Wyrm failed to prevent them from continuing his bath. He turned to pathetic pleading instead, making soft mewling sounds as though he was nothing more than a poor innocent child who had done nothing wrong, ever.

Shade, who remembered the little bastard knocking a glass ornament onto their head, was not convinced. Ultimately there was no escape, and Wyrm reluctantly gave in to the soft scrubbing, though he made sure his rumbling complaints were known.

“Yes, yes,” Shade said quietly, “I truly am the worst. Close your eyes so I can rinse you.”

Wyrm, in a dumb act of defiance, did not close his eyes. The hysterics started again, and Shade contemplated drowning themself in the half-filled sink. Fifteen dollars, they repeated. Fifteen dollars.

Grabbing a tea towel, they quickly dried the godling off, carefully teasing out water droplets from soft scales. He child gnawed on their fingers in revenge. “I’m done,” they announced, wandering back into the living room with a now clean, and furious, Wyrm.

Ghost looked up from their position on the floor, back leaning against the couch as they played with Grimm. Radi immediately perked up at the sound of Shade’s voice, and quickly flew over, making herself at home on top of their head. Unn seemed to have decided to undertake the momentous task of scaling up the back of the couch, leaving a thick trail of slime behind. Root, still stuck in her pen as punishment, let out a wail, demanding to be let out.

Shade was all out of energy to fight back or deal with a tantrum.

“Alright, alright, out you go,” they muttered, depositing Wyrm on the couch before reaching down to lift out the petulant child from her terrible prison. She clung to them desperately until they finally collapsed on the sofa. She quickly wriggled out of their hold and instead plonked down beside them. Wyrm had hissed at the sight of her, and slunk to the other side of the couch to sulk.

Grimm let out a raspy cackle at the sight, before diving down to nip at Ghost’s fingers.

Unn finally made her way to the top of the couch and waved her eyestalks victoriously. All Shade could do was give her a tired pat.

They sank into the couch, the exhaustion creeping back in. It should have been foolproof.

Fifteen dollars.

-------------------------------

By @arandoskeleartist​

[nightfrostshadow]

To Save a Villain

Prompt by @gingerly-writing

“Well, hero, looks like you have quite the decision to make. Leave me here to bleed out and stain your precious hands with blood, or call an ambulance and keep me alive to ruin your life another day. Which will it be? I’m so excited to find out.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hero glared at Villain who looked like he was lounging on the ground except a hand was covering his abdomen and blood was pooling around him. His face though twisted in a smirk was pale and she could visibly see the strain it took for him to not fall flat. He was already sitting on the ground and was doing all he could to not keel over.

Villain smiled as he painstakingly spoke once more with a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. “Wait you wouldn’t be so cruel to call the ambulance and leave? You know considering who I am, they would probably just speed up my journey to The Underworld.”

He looked up at her, “The only way to keep me alive would be to take me to your home and save me yourself. It is your fault after all you know?” He said gesturing to the wound with a grimace.

Hero sighed; her conscience would never let her leave him for dead. She groaned at the thought of what she was going to have to do. She reluctantly walked over to Villain and knelt beside him and gently- or as gently as she could- carried him on her back and headed home. Luckily, she could fly. She could not imagine transporting him any other way that wasn’t as fast as flying.

She entered her apartment through the window which she had kept open for this very purpose. Not exactly open but not locked either so she could just push it open from the outside. This was something only someone who could fly could do because she lived on the fifth floor. So it wasn’t too dangerous to do. Though coming back with Villain had certainly not been part of her plan. It was just a speedy way to enter her home.

She quickly laid Villain down onto her couch after throwing a spare cloth over it. She rushed to find her first aid kit. She fretted as she removed his shirt and had absolutely no idea what to do for the literal gaping hole in Villain’s abdomen which was spilling his blood all over. She rushed over muttering to Villain. “I’m not the right person for this!”

However, a very quick search on her phone later she managed to at least decently, if not perfectly, clean the wound and stop the bleeding before wrapping it up. She highly doubted it was the proper procedure but she would take it since Villain’s breathing had evened out.

It had started to get laboured a few minutes ago. His face though pale was not ghostly anymore. She let out a deep breath, one she hadn’t even noticed she was holding. Luckily this was enough because Villain healed faster than normal people. So even though what she had done was probably not enough for a normal person, for Villain it was more than enough.

Now that she wasn’t worried anymore, she quickly took off her jacket which had been stained with Villain’s blood while she had been carrying him. She didn’t have time to worry about cleaning it up now so she just deposited it onto a chair and decided to worry about that later.

She looked at Villain. He was quietly taking in the sight of her bandaging across his abdomen. He looked up with a weak smile that was slowly growing stronger as he healed. “Thank you for letting me stay the night. I appreciate it.”

Hero stared in surprise, “What did you just say? You aren’t staying the night. Absolutely not.”

Villain stared at her, “How fast do you expect me to heal? I’ll be fine tomorrow morning. It’s already night. The sun set an hour ago. I’m all for sleeping early today and I think you should too. Today was a pretty busy day.”

Hero didn’t argue. She knew it would be of no use so she silently disappeared into a room and reappeared a moment later carrying a blanket. She considered throwing it at Villain to spite him but then her conscience reminded her about the injury so she reluctantly draped it over him all the time glaring at him silently warning him not to joke about it.

Villain smiled but said nothing as his eyes sparkled. Hero finally spoke when she was done, “I’m turning in early tonight. Good Night.”

As soon as Hero left and went to her bedroom, Villain was left alone in the hall. He slowly lifted the blanket and checked on his wound with his powers. He estimated it would be an hour or two before he was completely healed. Until then he decided to just wait.

About two and a half hours later Villain awoke. He blinked his eyes as he looked around him for a moment wondering where on earth he was. Then he realised he must have dozed off. He quickly lifted the blanket and gently pulled off half of the bandaging that Hero had done, or tried to at least. He recalled her frantic google search before doing so and chuckled. He could see that he had fully healed.

Villain smiled. Not bad considering the fact that he had almost died a few hours ago. He did owe Hero for that. Then again it was her fault that he had gotten hurt. They were even. However, he was a villain who returned favours. He decided to get her some chocolate perhaps as he scanned the room with his eyes to see if he could find out what Hero liked. He spotted a bar of chocolate on a table. He got up and walked over to the kitchen. He saw many more of them in a box. He grinned. Well, that was settled. She liked chocolate.

In the meantime… he quickly grabbed one and started eating it. Who doesn’t love chocolate after all? He had never tried that particular type before. He mentally added it to the list of chocolates he liked because it was absolutely delicious.

He considered going back home but he didn’t want to leave without a word. He preferred grand exits. He went back and made himself comfortable on the couch and went to sleep.

The next time when Villain awoke it was around five ‘o’clock in the morning. He frowned as he glanced at the wall clock. He usually woke up an hour earlier than that time. His body probably needed extra rest after that injury yesterday. He sighed as he quickly got up and folded the blanket. He was a good guest after all. He smirked as he thought of what Hero’s face would look like when he said he was a guest.

He didn’t have his toothbrush or anything here so he just washed his face and went to wake Hero up before heading home. Goodness how was she still sleeping? The sun was almost about to rise. A few golden beams of light had appeared near the horizon. He walked into the room to see Hero tightly wrapped up in her blanket.

He almost laughed at the sight. It wasn’t even that cold. He called out her name to wake her up. She didn’t budge. He finally used his powers and levitated her into the living room and set her down on the couch which he had just vacated. 

Finally, she woke with a jerk. Sleepy eyes looked up at him. As soon as she registered who it was, she glared at him. “How could you wake me up so early!”

Villain scoffed, “Early? It’s late! Anytime after the sun rises is late. Well, I’m about to leave so I had to do you a favour and wake you up.”

Hero slowly eased herself into a sitting position and stared in shock as she registered where Villain was standing. He had jumped onto her window frame and it looked like he planned on exiting that way.

She jumped up and ran towards him, “Wait! You can’t do that when you’re injured!”

Villain turned back with a grin, “Aw, I’m extremely touched you care about me. I was healed last night don’t worry.”

Hero spluttered, “Who-Who cares about you? Wait-WHAT did you just say?”

Hero was fully awake now with all the shock and realization setting in, “You were fully healed last night? Then why didn’t you leave?”

Villain’s eyes twinkled mischievously, “Well what’s the fun in that? Oh and thanks for that bar of chocolate.”

He smirked, “I’ll be back soon to repay the favour. You’ll be seeing me quite often now that I know where to find you.”

With that he winked and with a little wave he leapt off.

Hero sighed as she looked around and spotted the blanket he had folded. The only sign other than her blood-stained jacket that Villain had been here. Then again, it was hard to believe she had brought Villain to her house.

She slowly walked back towards her room surprised to find that she was actually looking forward to Villains next visit.

[mello-jello]

Stupidity, bathroom, fish, accident, taken

Okok so this became part 2 of this prompt: Stiletto, gun, flower, gym, ice cream please read that one first lol

Levi and Hange continued seeing each other at the gym at absurd hours. Levi had never been so intrigued by a stranger before. He wanted to learn more about her. He thought about her all the time.

Hange gave no more hints as to what her night time activities consisted of, and Levi didn’t push further. Seeing that gun in her car had freaked him out a little and it reminded him of the time he spent living with Kenny. Levi had been exposed to far worse than a handgun at a young age. So he kept asking for that dinner date.

“Eventually,” or “When I get my next day off”, was her usual answer. They would settle for curbside dates of whatever fast food was around. They held hands and stole quick kisses but Hange could never stay long enough. She did give him her WhatsApp number so they could chat more, but she hardly answered it anyways. Just quick simple messages saying, “hey will you be at the gym tonight?”

“Yes”

“See you then”.

All was relatively fine, until one day Hange stopped coming.

Levi started dawdling around the gym, hoping she would show up. He would go there twice a day, just to see. He checked his messages incessantly. Nothing.

Months passed.

Levi was just on the verge of letting it go when he received a message.

“Dinner tonight?!”

His heart spasmed and he immediately replied, “What happened? Are you okay? Where have you been?”

He clutched at his phone as he anxiously watched the three little dots do the dance that indicated Hange was typing.

The dots stopped.

Levi held his breath and only let it out when the dots started moving again. Finally, she responded with, “126 Sasageyo Blvd. Reservation for two at 7:15pm”

“Tch” he scoffed at his screen.

A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

“Looks like I’ll be getting some time off. Delete this number.”

She can’t be serious? He can’t seriously be considering going? It was infuriating how little this infuriated him. Anyone else and he’d have told them where to shove it. But this was the mysterious Hange, and curiosity got the better of him. A quick Google search told him it was a very fancy restaurant a few kilometers away in the next town over. He would need a suit just to be seated.

Something about this whole situation put him on edge. It had been a while since he had to use it, but Levi thought it best to bring his knife with him. If anything, he just wanted answers.

--

Dressed in his best black suit, Levi entered the restaurant. The host asked him for the reservation name and he froze. He suddenly realized he didn’t even know her last name. Before the interaction became too awkward, Hange waved from the table, beaming at him.

Levi thought she looked very classy. He had only ever seen her in gym clothes. She wore a long, black lace dress with long sleeves that suited her nicely. However, she was wearing an eye covering. He was determined to not let the butterflies in his stomach distract him.

“What happened there?” Levi gestured to her eye as he sat down, not bothering with a formal greeting.

“Oh, I was in a little accident, but it’s no big deal. I have to wear the patch for another week but my eye is expected to make a full recovery!” She states proudly. “Anyways, tell me about Isabel! Last time we talked, she was waiting to hear back about her university application. Did she get in?!” Her energy almost matched what he was accustomed to. Almost.

Levi narrowed his eyes as he studied her. The changes were so subtle that anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed them. She seemed tired. Her lower lip was swollen. She had a thick layer of makeup on, but he could tell she had bruises along her neck and he suspected there were more elsewhere, due to the way she seemed to favour her left side. There was also something in her expression that he had never seen before. Stress, worry.

“What happened to you?” Levi was direct. He wasn’t leaving tonight without an answer.

Hange pursed her lips as she scanned the menu “I think I’ll have the fish, what about you?”

“You owe me an explanation… Or else I’m leaving.” He said flatly. He meant it, even though he really didn’t want to.

Hange lowered the menu and looked up at him through her long lashes. “It won’t happen again. I’m out,”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Listen, Levi… you must suspect by now that I don’t- uh didn’t- have a regular job”

“Tch, no shit”.

Hange chewed her lip and stared while she silently deliberated. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s over. I quit… I want to start over. With you.” She smiled at him and reached across the table to offer her hand.

He took her hand in his, tracing along her knuckles, silently saying he would very much like that. Levi just silently stared down at their hands, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He met her gaze again, but Hange’s countenance fell and for a moment, Levi thought he had hurt her feelings or something. But he noticed her eyes were locked onto something behind him. He started to turn around when Hange suddenly gripped his arm with both hands.

“Excuse yourself to the bathroom.” She instructed, her voice suddenly dark and urgent. Her one eye bore into his with such intensity as if to say, “trust me.”

Levi swallowed hard but did as he was told, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Once he was across the room, he looked over his shoulder back at their table. Hange had stood up to greet the tall blonde man who had approached. To an outsider, their body language displayed that of a close relationship, but Levi could sense the tension.

Levi checked the bathroom stalls for feet and was relieved to be alone. He looked at himself in the mirror. He should just leave. Whatever situation Hange was caught up in, he didn’t need to be involved. He really should just leave. He waited another few minutes, debating with himself. He was indeed interested, perhaps even smitten, but she seemed to be wrapped up in something sinister. He should definitely leave.

He was deciding if he should at least say goodbye when suddenly the doors burst open. Two unknown men rushed him. Levi was quick to draw out his knife and defend himself. He felt his muscle memory kicking in, as if he never stopped needing to fight. He slashed one of their thighs open and knocked out the other with a blow to the head. Stepping over their bodies, Levi calmly readjusted his coat jacket and tie, regaining his composure. He was leaving. He didn’t even look back at the table. He kept his eyes locked forward as he dashed to the exit.

He was almost to his car when he heard the familiar click of a revolver and he knew it was pointed at him. Levi slowly raised his arms and the stranger led him to an alleyway.

A moment later, the tall blonde man rounded the corner and thrusted Hange to the ground. She stumbled but regained her stance quickly. Two more men stood behind them, blocking the only means of escape, their guns trained on the two of them. Hange and Levi both kept their arms up.

“Zeke, he really isn’t a concern for you,” Hange turned to Levi. “Levi, I’m so sorry.”

“Not a concern?” the blonde one who must be Zeke spoke in an eerily calm and quiet way. One of his men handed him a shotgun. “I have a hard time believing that, considering the lengths you went to in order to protect him, dragging him all the way out here, so far from home”.

Levi raised an eyebrow at Hange.

“It was my own stupidity," she admitted. "Us meeting at the same place at weird hours… It was suspicious. But Zeke, he's not involved, I swear!"

Levi was still just as confused when Zeke let out a roaring laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Levi's neck.

"Oh you really don’t know, do you? That’s rich.” Zeke pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “You’ve really been so charmed by this man that you didn’t even realize he’s an Ackerman?" Zeke laughed again. “Hange I thought you were smarter than that”.

Hange’s jaw dropped as she turned to look at Levi in disbelief, "You're… an Ackerman?"

Levi knew his uncle was involved in some shady shit, but this was far worse than he ever imagined. “Yes”.

Zeke’s laughter turned to cackling as Hange closed her eyes in anguish. She let out a shaky breath. When she opened her eyes, Zeke handed her his shotgun, no longer worried about her. Jaw clenched, tears spilling down her cheek, she cocked the gun and pointed it at Levi’s face.

“The Ackermans,” she spat through her teeth, “Have taken everything from me!”

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 25)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6423 Warnings: mention of injuries, fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 24 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Time stands still like the eerie calm of the earth before a storm and in less than the blink of an eye things move all at once. The clouds break open with the downpour of your tears, a tornado sends you in a dizzying frenzy to change your clothes, hellish winds are unleashed that blow you across town so quickly you nearly forgot to take your phone with you as you scrambled out of the Uber that raced you to the hospital.

Sam’s call was brief. Bucky was brought into the emergency room by ambulance, fading in and out of consciousness from a car accident. Sam nearly went into shock himself seeing his friend littered in cuts and scrapes. You didn’t have time to ask much else, barely even changing out of your pajamas. You swapped thin bottoms for leggings, quickly grabbed your bra and threw a hoodie over it all, not thinking about how your hair looked or bothering to pick out the crust that just began to take root in the corner of your eyes. You grabbed a bag tossing in your keys and wallet and clutched your phone in hand to run downstairs.

The fluorescent lights are blinding as you enter the hospital, searching for Sam through the chaos of chatter and noise. The beep beep beep of machinery all around you, coughing, crying, moaning wails from people that want help or attention or just a place to sleep off their drunkenness. The ER was a maze you knew every route of but your mind pushed the knowledge out needing more space to panic.

Where is Bucky? Where is Sam?

You remembered the nurses’ station, sprinting towards it and happy to see a familiar face that does not recognize you right away. You didn’t expect Stacie to; you looked quite different when you were not put together in professional clothes and on the verge of bursting into tears and throwing up at the same time.

Together you quickly found Sam, unable to hold back the dam when you saw him and asked about Bucky.

“He went up into surgery.”

“Surgery!?” you cried out. “Is he going to be okay? Sam what happened?”

He let out a long and heavy sigh. The harsh lights above were unkind, showing the depths of the circles under his eyes.

“His leg is broken and he has some internal bleeding but we stabilized him and…”

You knew how hard Sam works, how everyone in this hospital works, getting an up close experience from your time there so you hated to be this person, frantic and begging for answers that he didn’t have.

“Doctor Palmer is an excellent surgeon. I’m gonna call her assistant now to let them know I’m sending you up.”

You nodded, biting your lip and roughly wiping away fresh tears. Sam pulled you into his chest and you felt your knees buckle. Bucky had to make it through surgery, he had to! A heavy sob wracked through you as you thought of the worst. Sam squeezed tighter, wishing he could stay with you upstairs through the surgery. Hell, he’d scrub in himself if they’d let him just so he could say he’s done everything to help his friend through this.

“I’ll be up when I can,” he promised, walking you towards the elevator.

You forced a worried smile. “Thanks Sam. Do you know… did anyone call his parents?”

Sam clenched his jaw as he thought about it. “It was pretty crazy in there, I’m not sure. I could fi–” He was interrupted by someone calling his name and you knew you had taken too much of his time already.

Your stomach dropped as the elevator went up, bringing you to an unfamiliar floor with unfamiliar faces that made you feel like an unwelcome stranger in someone’s home. You let the staff know you were here for James but a by-the-books nurse wasn’t keen on giving you information. Without thinking straight you had stupidly answered no when they asked if you were family, and when you asked if Bucky’s family was called she wouldn’t tell you.

You exhaled a deep, calming sigh, not wanting to yell at the person that was just doing their job, but as you sink into the uncomfortable chair you can’t help but silently cry to yourself. This woman doesn’t know how badly you need to know if Bucky’s okay. She doesn’t know that you spent the last few months ignoring him and wishing you could take it all back. She doesn’t know how much you miss him, how you love him. Even though he broke your heart you couldn’t help yourself from gluing the pieces back together and you needed to tell him, maybe you couldn’t tell him the truth but Bucky needed to at least know that you didn’t hate him.

The clock ticks away slowly and no one has come to speak with you. You stare at Winifred’s profile. She hasn’t updated her status since late in the afternoon. Does she know? Did anyone call them?

You decide they need to know, they need to be here just in case. A wave of nausea rolls over you at the thought and suddenly you become dizzy in your seat. You’re hot, sweating in the hoodie and yet you push on. Shaky fingers google his parent’s names and hometown in the hopes they are listed. You find a number, hesitant to call at this late of an hour. Rebecca was a few hours behind, and you debated messaging them in hopes of a fast reply. Should you do that? Should you be doing this at all?

Fuck.

If you had some answers you could at least feel a little better about all of this. You messaged Rebecca on Instagram telling them what happened and leaving your number. Your cheeks burn like lava as you rest your palm against them, dialing the number that google provided which may or may not be correct.

The phone rings and rings, and with each unanswered ring your stomach twists a little tighter. Relief comes but only slightly by way of Winnie’s bubbly voice prompting you to leave a message. Your voice shakes as you do, letting out a strangled cry as you leave them the limited details you knew about Bucky. Are they sleeping?

It doesn’t take long before your screen lights up with a number you don’t recognize and you were relieved to hear Winnie’s voice. Someone did call her and George, and they were on their way to the hospital.

“Rebecca sent me your number. I’m so happy you’re there. We’ll see you soon sweetheart,” she said, with sobs in her voice.

After hanging up you saw a message from Rebecca repeating what you already knew. They asked if it was okay to call you and you were thankful for the distraction. Together you tried to comfort each other, worrying about Bucky making it through surgery, about their parents driving with little sleep and so much on their minds.

“They’re here,” you said spotting George first from down the hallway, “I’ll call you back.”

It had been at least a half hour since their call and getting up from the chair was slow, your body ached from sitting for too long but you didn’t care. George and Winnie wrapped you in their arms, tears flowing as you embraced. The tears poured a little harder as you gripped them tightly, realizing how nice it was to see them again but wishing desperately it was under different circumstances.

George withdrew first, going up to the desk to let them know he was there. Winnie cupped your face softly, her hands were cold but it felt good against the heat of your skin. The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile that released more tears down her reddened cheeks, her eyes already swollen and full of spidery veins.

Together you waited. Talking, pacing, crying, waiting, waiting, waiting until a short woman in green scrubs called out for the Barnes family. The three of you jump up and you feel immediately sick, holding on to Winnie’s arm as you try to read the expression of the woman before she said anything.

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes my name is Doctor Palmer, I was the surgeon who worked on your son James.”

Winnie held your hand a little tighter, squeezing as every second went by until Dr. Palmer said he was stable and in recovery.

“He came in with blunt force trauma from a crash. He fractured two ribs and there was some internal bleeding from his spleen which we were able to repair with arterial embolization. However, James had a severe compound fracture of the tibia. We debrided the area and secured the bone with plates and screws. James is in the post op recovery room and he’s awake but not fully lucid.”

A collective sigh of relief filled the waiting room, with mixed tears of happiness flowing freely again. The doctor said a nurse would come by to bring you in to see him shortly and you couldn’t wait. You didn’t know what you would say to Bucky or if he would even be alert enough to hear you but you knew it was time to let him know that the past is in the past and you want to move forward.

A beat fills the room, steady like a metronome to keep the rhythm but the sound is unfamiliar. Too soft for the drums, not high enough for strings. Quick, simple. Piano? No. The sound isn’t broad enough. Keyboard? Yes. Electric, synthy. But it still sounds wrong.

Bucky tries to open his eyes but his lids are too heavy, bolted down by invisible chains. He sees the light of the sun through them. He tries to lift his arm to shut the blinds but even they are too sluggish to move, heavy like they were coated in cement.

He feels the scratch of a rough blanket against his skin, vague thoughts cross his tired mind wondering the whereabouts of his comforter. His toes are cold, feeling like tiny icicles are hanging off them. His right foot drags against the mattress. Was it always this uncomfortable? It’s his left foot that isn’t covered, a sock that probably came off in the night.

In a state of half sleep Bucky tries to wiggle the icicles off and suddenly his whole body feels like it’s been set ablaze. The beat quickens. A terrible pain fires through every nerve. There’s a sharp sensation in his hand when he tries to move it making him wince. His left side has a dull stabbing ache that increases as he takes a deep breath. Bucky feels sore all over like he was just hit by a–

And then he remembers.

His breaths are shallow, the tempo moving rapidly like the hook of an EDM song about to drop the beat as Bucky replayed the scene like a movie. He left the premier’s after party in an Uber never expecting the violent jolt of an SUV t-boning the car into a traffic pole. Everything after was a blur. There were flashing lights, noise, a steady bright light, an angel with the face of Y/N.

Bucky’s eyes fly open in state panic as he looks around wildly at his surroundings. His leg is in a cast, elevated by a sling. Needles in his arm, tubes around his nose, wires everywhere. He felt like a mess, he could only imagine he looked even worse but then all of his worries fade away when he sees Y/N, the angel at his side.

You’re asleep on the chair, elbow propped up on the wooden arm with your head leaning against your palm. It’s not comfortable at all but you didn’t complain, it wasn’t important. It was nearly five in the morning when Bucky was moved to a room. The walls were a dreadful sage green that looked more like dirty money in the dim light of dawn. The room was small but the lack of a second bed for the time being made things seem a little larger.

George went off in search of a third chair for the room as you and Winnie pulled yours up close to Bucky, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Sam came up to visit after his shift ended, introducing himself to Bucky’s parents. The tackling hug Winnie gave him was unexpected by his sleep deprived body but he accepted it all the same, giving her a reassuring hug that everything would be okay. Before he left you whispered a thank you in Sam’s ear, for treating Bucky and giving you a call. You promised to keep him updated as told him to get some rest, he certainly deserved it.

Bucky slept peacefully as you watched over him, your head falling forward and jolting you awake every time you had begun to fall asleep. Winnie had already fallen asleep but you were fighting against your body’s needs. You stared longingly at Bucky, wanting to be awake in case he woke up. George put a gentle hand on your shoulder, nodding with silent permission that it was okay to shut your eyes. A large black cup of coffee aided him in keeping watch and so you blinked slowly, your lids growing heavier with every languid motion until they remained shut for the next few hours. It wasn’t until the sound of rapid beeps that you were alerted into consciousness again.

Your head whipped up quickly with concern at the sound that slowly began to steady, finding Bucky awake with an ever so slight tug of a smile on his lips that grew once you locked eyes. It had been far too long since you looked at Bucky, truly looked at him without anger and heartache clouding your vision.

The scrapes and bruises that littered his face did not hinder any part of his handsomeness. His lips were dull and slightly chapped and yet it didn’t stop you from wanting to press yours against them. You lifted your eyes towards his, feeling blessed to be able to stare at the most beautiful shade of blue once more. They glistened with unshed tears as Bucky gazed back at you.

Your own tears came instantly, falling down the curves of your smile as you leaned over him. Your name fell softly from his lips and hesitantly you lifted your hand, wanting to reach out and caress his face. You pulled it back, dropping your head for a moment, squeezing tears out of your tightly shut eyes. Bucky was a blur when you opened them again but he was there, he was alive and you were more than thankful.

“Hey neighbor,” you sniffled. “It’s good to see you.”

No longer caring if you should or shouldn’t touch his face, you wanted to. Your thumb gently grazed the delicate skin of his cheek, early stubble scratching lightly as you brushed against it.

Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling him smile against your palm. “It’s good to see you too.” His voice was strained, still dry from surgery.

You took Bucky’s hand in your own, careful of the IV sticking out. He asked what happened, knowing he was in an accident but unsure of the details afterwards. It was obvious his leg was broken but you told him the specifics– the emergency surgery to fix his break and stop his internal bleeding, how Sam had treated him when he came into the ER. He smiled at that.

“You broke a few ribs too.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “So that’s why it hurts to breathe.”

Your lips pulled tightly across your face, wishing you could take the pain away from him. The tension released when you felt Bucky squeezing your hand as if he heard your thoughts, offering you comfort when he was the one that really needed it.

“Oh, your parents are here,” you remembered, though you looked around, unsure of where they went. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think to contact Claire.” The shock of Bucky’s accident made you forget to text all your friends until the early morning.

His face twists with confusion. “Claire?” Did you really not know? “Claire and I have been broken up for months.”

Your lips move without sound as you try to process what he said. You didn’t know what to say, wondering if Bucky hid his breakup as you had yours. Now you didn’t feel as guilty holding on to the feelings in your heart. You’re about to blurt out the words, to tell Bucky what you couldn’t say back to Peter but the sound of Winnie calling his name stopped you and you turned to see her running up to his bed.

“James, you’re awake. We were so worried,” she cried in his ear, contorting herself around machines while being mindful of Bucky’s injuries.

George walked in with a cup of coffee for you and you thanked him, getting up so he could get closer to Bucky. The warm brew felt good going down even though it wasn’t the best, forgetting to warn them about the cafeteria’s lack of quality. Good thing you weren’t relying on this to keep you awake, not since Bucky shocked every cell of your body into full alertness with his news. Though you were happy to learn he broke up with Claire it still didn’t mean what you wanted it to and you were thankful you hadn’t scared him off with an “I love you.”

Pulling out your phone you saw a text from Wanda, featuring a block of caps locked screaming with question marks and sad emojis. You typed back an update about Bucky, looking over at him with his parents and back down again to the message that was still in the process of sending. It took a few minutes before the message decided not to go through at all.

You excused yourself, letting everyone know you were going to update all your friends about how Bucky was doing. George commented on the terrible service in the room so at least it wasn’t just your phone. You probably could have stood on a chair trying to force better service somehow in different parts of the room but you also wanted to give Bucky and his parents an opportunity for privacy.

“I’ll be right back,” you said with a smile, passing a woman coming in with flowers for the person who had been brought into the other side of the room early in the morning. Your gaze lingered back at Bucky one final time before leaving.

George shared a look with Winnie and staring at her son she said, “Y/N was here all night you know...”

With your phone in hand you follow it like it’s a map with five full bars leading you to treasure. It only took walking around the whole floor to find a good spot on the opposite side of the building near a window for your text to go through. In between sips of coffee you recorded a message for everyone on the group chat, it was so much easier than typing it out and you were still very tired.

You decided to finish your coffee there, giving Bucky and his parents more time as you stared out the window at what looked like a bright and beautiful morning. A slew of notifications came on your phone as half the people responded. Clint was probably still sleeping but Natasha replied asking if Bucky needs anything. Though Peggy was in England she asked if there was anything she could do. Steve wondered if he wanted visitors and asked you to pass along his get well wishes. You typed back that you would find out, promising to keep in touch as the day went on.

When your cup was empty you tossed it into a nearby garbage can and headed back, not expecting to hear your name being called.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You turned to see Elena, concern etched on her face as she held onto your shoulder. Embarrassment washed over you as you remembered how you looked, feeling even worse when you realized that earlier in the week Elena was technically your boss.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay. A friend of mine came in last night, car accident. I’ve…” you took a moment to yawn, covering your mouth, “Excuse me, I’ve been here all night.” You slapped your face lightly to wake up, now wishing the coffee had been stronger. “He’s going to be okay though,” you finished.

“He? Is this Bucky?” she wondered, and you were surprised she recalled his name since the wedding was months ago. You sighed, nodding slowly as your lips pulled into a soft smile. “I hope everything works out.”

Elena hugged you before she turned around to see a patient, reminding you she was here if you needed her. It was really nice to know she was there for you, Elena had become more than a mentor in the time you’ve worked for her.

Heading back in the room you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face when you saw Bucky. The few minutes apart you spent were more than you ever wanted to do again. George moved down a seat so you could sit closer to Bucky, letting him know everyone was asking about him, wondering if he wanted visitors.

Bucky sought your hand again, smiling as your soft touch helped to ease the discomfort he was feeling. It would be nice to see friends but he was more than happy you were here with him. It wasn’t long before a nurse came in to check vitals and Bucky was relieved since he definitely could use more pain medication.

Winnie asked you to join her to get food since no one had really eaten and even though you didn’t want to leave Bucky you weren’t going to say no to his mother. Besides, you needed to steer Winnie away from the cafeteria and the nurse seemed thankful to have less people in the room.

Bucky felt settled after a dose of painkillers, easing the radiating aches from all over his body. George poured a cup of water, handed it to him and set aside the pink plastic pitcher.

“How’re you feeling James?” he asked, forcing a smile when all he wanted to do was cry looking at the state of his son, from the deep purple bruises on his temple to the scrapes that marred his skin.

Bucky gulped down the water, quenching the arid condition of his mouth. “M’okay, a little better I guess.”

“Your head feels okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, no one said I hit it or– ”

“Are you sure about that?”

George leaned in closer, as Bucky squinted in confusion. His smile dropped and his eyes grew stern as he organized his thoughts into a more appropriate lecture despite the disappointing anger that bubbled beneath his skin.

“I really wonder James, because see Y/N, a great girl who clearly loves and cares about you and you let her go.” Bucky tried to interrupt, to fill in all the details he hadn’t told him in the past but George wouldn’t let him. “No son, there has to be something wrong with you if you can’t see it.”

“Dad, it’s… it’s complicated,” Bucky let out with a sorrowful sigh.

“James, real love is complicated. It’s wild and passionate as much as it is frustrating, but when you find someone that loves you as much as you love them it makes overcoming obstacles worthwhile. Love isn’t easy but it is easy loving someone that makes you feel alive, that makes life worth living and when you find that someone you don’t let them go. Don’t let her go, James.”

Bucky sits with the weight of his father’s words heavy on his chest. It had already been hard to breathe and now things felt worse. He doesn’t know the full story, how a stupid mistake ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He wants to make it right, to tell you everything not that it would change anything. Bucky assumed that since you spent all night waiting by his side that you at least don’t hate him anymore like you used to, so maybe your friendship can be salvaged. Still, it’s going to hurt him to see you in Peter’s arms but Bucky would rather have you back in his life because not having you there at all is far worse.

You come walking in with his mom, smiling and laughing and it’s such a beautiful sight. The smile on his face can’t help but grow. Bucky watches as his father wraps an arm around his mom, pressing a kiss to her temple. She smiles looking up at him, pulling out sandwiches from a deli you had come from.

“Ohh and someone wants to say hello,” Winnie said, pulling out her phone, trying her best to connect to Rebecca on FaceTime despite the shitty signal. The connection is spotty and Bucky ends up having a regular phone conversation with them. They were definitely happy to hear he was doing better.

After the call Bucky asked about his phone and his mom found the bag of his personal belongings in the closet. She grimaced at the lack of clothes, realizing whatever he came in with was most likely cut off him in the ER, thoughts of the whole ordeal bringing tears to her eyes. Underneath his shoes were his wallet and phone which she handed him, surprised to see the screen had not cracked.

Bucky attempted to turn it on but it was dead. Normally you carry a charger with you but in the rush to leave your apartment that was the last thing on your mind. Your own battery had just passed half its life but you didn’t really care. There was nothing else you needed to focus on today besides Bucky.

His parents stay into the afternoon, getting a chance to speak with the doctor and meeting Natasha, Clint and Steve who arranged their visit together. They left shortly after since the room had gotten crowded between everyone and visitors for the person in the other bed. You and Winnie hugged, squeezing tight for a lingering moment, fighting the urge to cry again out of exhaustion and relief for the night you went through together. George gave an equally strong hug, one that Bucky watched from his bed, overhearing his parents making sure you had both their numbers.

You looked just as tired as they did and Bucky knows you should probably go home. He wonders if you’ll leave when your friends do but when the time comes and Natasha is shrugging on her jacket you make no move to do the same, only getting up to hug them goodbye.

Alone again, Bucky finds comfort in the silence between you, as the speaker for the TV lays beside him filling the background with noise. He watches as you set up the cards he received on the windowsill, making sure Clint’s it’s going tibia okay card is angled so Bucky can see it and smile.

When dinner arrives he frowns at cold peas and carrots, eats the bland chicken and enjoys the soup more than he thought. Bucky urged you to eat something more than the bags of chips and nuts you had been snacking on since the sandwich you split between breakfast and lunch. You insisted you were fine but he forced you to eat his salad, assuring you he was not in the mood to have it.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Bucky groaned through an exhale, his eyes squeezed shut as hissed an unconvincing “yes” through his teeth.

“I need more pain meds and…” he shifted as much as he could trying to ease his discomfort.

“And what? Bucky, whatever it is I can get the nurse in.”

“I… it’s embarrassing,” he admitted.

You smiled softly, leaning close to remind him, “Whatever it is can’t be more embarrassing than the time I nearly shit myself in front of you. Remember? All my trips running to the bathroom hoping I could make it on time?”

Crinkles formed around his eyes as Bucky smiled, chuckling before he realized how much it hurt to do so, at the memory of your food poisoning and the weekend he spent helping you recover. And now here you were by his side, doing the same.

“It’s uh, my…” He looked away, blushing beet red as he squeaked out, “...my catheter. It’s not great.”

An array of expressions crossed your face. “Yeah… I can imagine.” When you finally locked eyes with Bucky again you couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, offering to go get him a nurse.

It took a few minutes to return as you looked for the nurse, coming back with a surprise, Wanda and Sam. Wanda held back tears as she carefully hugged him and Sam couldn’t help but go into doctor mode and ask how Bucky was doing.

“I’m good. Alive thanks to you.”

Sam grinned. “I can’t take all the credit, but you are lucky. Very lucky.”

The nurse lumbered in, tired from a long shift but his demeanor changed upon seeing Sam, the two of them knowing each other well. Riley had praised Sam’s skills having formerly worked beside him in the ER for a while.

“Riley, this is my boy so please, whatever he needs make sure he’s taken care of, alright?” Sam turned to Bucky, “You good? Do you need a sponge bath?”

Bucky sighed, “No Sam, I don’t need a sponge bath.” He blushed with embarrassment, rolling his eyes at his friend’s teasing. “I would really like to pee on my own though.”

“Riley, call the stream team!” Sam shouted a little too loud.

Bucky instantly regretted his admission, pinching the tender bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “It’s nice they let you out for some fresh air Sam, that padded room must get pretty boring.”

Sam wore a toothy smile, happy to see his friend was still in good enough spirits to rib him back. He and Wanda stayed long enough for the shift change and though Sam didn’t personally know the next nurse he introduced himself and wanted to make sure Bucky was taken care of.

Once again you made no move to leave when Sam and Wanda did, getting up only to stretch. Your bones creaked like old wood, stretching out stiff muscles until you felt the slightest bit of relief. The chairs provided were not the most uncomfortable but after almost a day they definitely took a toll.

Bucky notices the way your eyes grow tired, how every action has slowed. You’ve been in the hospital nearly as long as he has and he doesn’t envy you, even with his injuries.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, stirring you alert. “It’s late, you should go home.” Your head shook before you spoke, opening your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I’m good, I promise. You’ve been here all day and night, go get some sleep in a real bed.”

It would look stupid if you argued at this point, as you tried to fight back a yawn. Bucky asked you for a favor before you left, to grab his keys and bring some clothes and his phone charger tomorrow. “Only if you don’t mind.” Of course you would.

“Oh and one more thing,” he said, his eyes pleading up at you. “Call me when you get home. I need to know you got back safely.”

You nodded, smiling softly, before entering the number from his bedside phone into yours. Leaning down you pressed your lips against Bucky’s forehead, letting them linger against the warmth of his skin. Upon pulling away you shared a moment, smiling back at each other before Bucky took your hand.

“Thank you Y/N,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. There was so much Bucky meant within those words and by the way you looked at him he believed you knew.

With his body on fire Bucky still rested easier than he had in the last few months, knowing at the very least he had you in his life again.

The subway rocks gently as you travel down the familiar route to the hospital, this time not worrying about making it on time to clock in but with excitement fluttering in your belly to be able to see Bucky again.

Last night you called him just before you went into his apartment, grabbing the few things he asked for and not lingering. You were a second away from crashing, having enough energy to plug your phone in before your face hit the pillow.

In the morning you showered, drinking a strong cup of coffee as you got ready. You didn’t bother with much but it felt good to look presentable. You grabbed Bucky’s things, texting people before you lost service underground. Rebecca thanked you for the updates and said they were looking to fly in towards the end of the week. George and Winnie would definitely be happy to see them again. They contacted you this morning as well, saying they would be seeing you at the hospital in a bit.

Bucky tried to keep himself occupied, shutting his eyes and eventually finding sleep for a few hours before the nurse needed to check his vitals. He stared out his window, watching the dark blanket of the sky slowly lift over the buildings, falling asleep once more before the next round of nurses coming in. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to heal if he can’t sleep but the doctor lets him know he should be released tomorrow or the following day.

It lifts his mood but the height of his spirits soar high above the atmosphere when Bucky saw you walking into his room. You look much more rested than he does and he’s happy about it. He savors your arms around him, feasting upon the scent of your floral shampoo, your smile bringing sunshine upon a gloomy world.

You put the clothes he asked for in his closet, taking his phone and plugging it into the nearest outlet, settling down again in the familiar chair beside his bed. You were just as excited to hear about Bucky getting released soon, the thought of him being just beyond your shared wall again was comforting.

After charging for a little bit Bucky asked for his phone, just to check a few quick messages. You got up to unplug it, the screen lighting up and making your mouth fall open. Bucky’s lock screen was you! Well, it was the two of you, from that time Winnie was testing out her new phone. It was a beautiful memory, a candid capture of a moment in time when you gazed into each other’s eyes, the corners of your mouths settled into a smile; two people holding back the feelings that were written so evidently across their faces.

You pretended not to have seen it, handing him the phone with the screen down. Bucky nearly forgot about the picture himself, his eyes flitting quickly your way as he tried not to breathe too hard and have the monitors give away his panicked state.

Your head was turned up towards the TV, watching The Golden Girls through the muffled sound of the speaker resting against the side of the bed. You couldn’t look at Bucky in the moment, not when you felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. No, you needed this time to collect your thoughts, to find the perfect words to express exactly how you felt and right when they were at the tip of your tongue you held them back.

Winnie and George walked in looking a lot better than they had yesterday. They greeted you both and settled in for the next few hours. They too were excited about his impending release, offering Bucky to recover at their home.

“No, ma I’ll be fine. The building has an elevator, I’m good.”

Worry crossed her face. “What about food shopping? What about bathing?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide. “Well you’re not gonna bathe me if that’s what you think.”

You swallowed a chuckle, shifting your expression to a serious one offering your help. “For the food shopping,” you nervously added. Learning from the past, you shut your mouth to avoid the risk of digging yourself a deeper, awkward hole.

His parents left to get lunch for everyone since Bucky was sick of cold vegetables, and the two of you were alone again. He cleared his throat, licking his lips before asking, “You really don’t mind helping me?”

Your smile answered him before your words. “Of course not. Plus we still have a lot of pizza to try.”

You bit your lip watching the smile spread across his face, relief washing over him as things seemed to snap back into place as if nothing had changed. But Bucky forgot about Peter. You had been spending so much time with him this weekend he almost convinced himself things were different.

“Peter isn’t mad you’ve been gone all weekend?” Bucky asked, doing a poor job in hiding the uneasiness in his face as he anticipated your answer. He’s a glutton for punishment, reminding himself that things will never truly be the same again and little does he know how right he is.

“I broke up with him weeks ago.”

Your answer takes a moment to register, the realization hitting Bucky more than the impact of the accident. “Why?”

Haloed by the glow of the sun behind you, the words sang like the message of an angel, because there had to be some sort of divine intervention that brought all of Bucky’s dreams true when you answered, “Because he wasn’t you.”

A tear slipped down your face and Bucky lifted his hand, cupping your cheek and brushing it away. You cupped his hand against you, exhaling staccato breaths and smiling down at the man that brought music into a world that felt silent without him.

You leaned down, the tip of your nose grazing against his, your smile matching his as you closed the distance, pressing your lips together once more. The sound of love flooded your soul as you and Bucky found harmony at last.

EPILOGUE

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You and Your Mandalorian

The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Prompt: Your Mandalorian finally keeps his end up of the promise he made you before he went on his journey to return the kid to his people.

Word Count: 1590

Reader: Female

Warning: uh, I wrote this when the show ended and its been sitting in my google docs ever since. I was too nervous to post but like why not post now, I have nothing to lose :p

Masterlist

=====

The muscles in your cheeks are starting to twitch as you force out another laugh at Kneeper’s joke. He was the farmer’s son next door and he always insisted to walk you home when you went to the market later than usual, saying how “a pretty lady like yourself might wander into trouble”. It was more likely you would be the one causing trouble but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

But, fearing to be impolite or not grateful, you didn’t dare to say no to him. You were still quite new to this small town and you weren’t about to make a bad name for yourself in the tightly sewn neighborhood. You had a complicated past and the last thing you needed was your name being spread throughout the town. 

It was easy to lay low as you lived away from the town market, only two other homes nearby. You didn’t speak much to the neighbors, only a few conversations here and there. The most social interaction you had was at the meals the mothers invited you to when their husbands were out every seventh night.

The families were nice, don’t mistake that. They helped you move into the small cottage at the end of the crop fields, the daughters dropped out fresh eggs and baked goods every morning, and they never tried to push to know why you appeared out of nowhere. The only issue was their traditions and beliefs were a bit old fashioned for your taste.

“... well, this is my stop.” You announce, stopping a few feet from the entrance of your home. “I appreciate the company, Kneeper. Tell your parents, again, thank you for the bread.” He nods at you, a sheepish smile on his face. When he doesn’t move to leave, you shift awkwardly.

The blonde takes in a shaky breath, “Appreciate it enough to invite me in?” He looks at you through the brim of his broad straw hat. You open your mouth and close it, a small blush appearing on your cheeks at his forwardness.

“Kneep,” You let out a sigh and adjust the basket resting on the crook of your arm. “I would love to but it— it’s getting quite late. I still need to tidy up and get ready to turn in for the night.” He hangs his head in rejection but nods otherwise.

“I understand…” He digs his hands into the pockets of his pants, “Maybe another time then?” He hopes, you let out a chuckle at his determination.

You move to continue down the path that leads to your front door, calling back to him over your shoulder, “We’ll see.” And with that empty promise, he departs to his own home.

=====

Making your way through the living room, you enter the small kitchen. You set down the basket full of groceries with a sigh. Kneeper has been trying to get a date from you since his mother started making friends with you. It was flattering, of course, but you were not interested at all. It would be a few more years till you considered it, honestly.

Turning on some music on the player you were gifted, you start to put away your groceries while putting on a little dance. The mundane activity is ever so exciting for you. In your past bounty hunting life, you never had the luxury of keeping fresh food. Too busy to make a meal and when you did have time, it was already wilted and expired so this luxury was something you never got tired of.

A deep chuckle interrupts your domestic bliss. The strange sound sends your whole body into autopilot. Grabbing the knife from the block on the counter, you don’t even think twice when you turn and throw it towards the intruder.

It hits the wall behind them and you go to charge. They don’t fight back as you pin them against the wall, an arm across their chest to hold them back and your other hand on the knife above them.

It was a man, one you’ve never seen before but the way his armor presses against you feels familiar. He has short, messy brown hair that matches his soft brown eyes. He’s taller than you, broader as well. It would appear to be easy for him to take you down on size alone but he doesn’t move. “Who are you?”

“Cyar’ika…” The man whispers out, his eyes searching your face. It sounds familiar, the name being played on repeat in your head every time you try to go to bed. You know that voice but not the face, “It’s me, cyar’ika, it’s—“

“Din,” You breathe out, relaxing your arm on him. Your eyes bounce around on his face, taking in his features. The only time he’s had the helmet off was in the dark and now it’s in the soft light of solar lamps that show his face. You can’t hold back the you raise a hand to his cheek, he immediately leans into the touch. You’ve dreamt of this day before. “Where’s the helmet?”

“I took it off.” He announces, eyes closed. “Grogu was too important.”

“Grogu?”

“The kid. That’s his name.” He corrects, a slight strain to his voice. You know not to push as it appears that the little green guy is not here with him. He also promised when you left, that he would only come find you when he was done with his mission. His mission of returning the child to his people.

Nothing is said as you remove yourself from the Mandalorian. His eyes snap open at the sudden loss of contact, sending you a confused look. You give him a tight-lipped smile and grab his hand.

You lead him towards the other side of your cottage where your bedroom is located. Assuming he has had a rough few days just by his appearance, you decided a nice rest would be much deserved.

As you slowly help Din out of his armor, you get transported back to your time spent together on the Razor Crest. He watches as you carefully unlatch the beskar from his body, setting it in a neat pile on the floor of your closet. You check over him just as you did before, making sure he doesn’t have any injuries.

“I’m fine, cyar’ika.” Din assures, grabbing your forearms as you go to check his ribs for the second time. You nod and slowly try to detach yourself from him but he stops you. 

The way his gloveless hand feels against your cheek freezes you on the spot. It’s been too long since you’ve been visited by your Mandalorian. Now he comes back helmetless and you can see the damage the journey before has done to him in his eyes.

“Have your eyes always been this expressive?” You ask with a soft tone causing a small smile to appear on his face.

He shrugs in response. The two of you fall into silence after that. Din was too busy recommitting your features to his mind; your hair was much longer and there were more freckles that littered your faces due to the much time you spent outside. You were too invested in memorizing his face; his short brown hair that matches his brown eyes, his sharp nose, everything.

Din then pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I missed you.” He whispers, afraid to break the moment. You lean up with a smile and press a chaste kiss to his nose.

“I missed you too.” You giggle out as his nose scrunches up. Not being able to hold back your excitement anymore, you burrow your face into his chest and wrap your arms around him. “Did you know that you are very pretty?”

You almost melt at the little chuckle that slips past Din’s lips and the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. “Thank you, mesh’la.” He says in a low voice and hugs you to his body. 

You’ve both craved this moment since you left him on the Razor Crest. The life getting too hard for you as you grew older and he understood your need for retirement. He felt the same at the time, wanting nothing more to run away with you and the kid but he knew that wasn’t the fair thing to do. But, now that the kid was with his people, he could finally start the life he promised you.

“How long are you staying?” You manage to get out, fearing that this was just a stop before he took another voyage. He removes his chin from the top of your head and pulls back to look at you. He lets out a sigh and you feel him tense underneath your fingers. Fearing his answer, you burrow your face further into his chest as the tears start to build up in your eyes.

“Hey, hey.” He gently guides your head back to look up at him. He sees your cheeks slowly becoming red, a pout formed on your lips as you try not to let him see you break down in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He confesses, resting a hand on your cheek. “I promise you, mesh’la.”

You can’t help the tears that stream down your face at his words. After spending years together, dancing around your emotions and then leaving him when it was too much to handle anymore, it was finally time to live out the rest of your lives together. Just you and your Mandalorian. 

[reaperintheroses]

Temple

Winchester brothers (separate) x reader  

A/N: Basically just how the Winchester brothers would react to you not taking care of yourself while you are researching for a hunt. Gender neutral reader.

Dean:

Oh honey you’ve been working on a completely ridiculous hunt that feels like a wild goose chase 

You can’t seem to find any information and once you do the monster throws another ability at you that completely derails the research that you’ve been doing for the past few weeks

You decided you were going to hang out and read in your room

You needed the change of scenery and the reception in your room was better

See the funny thing was though

You do this tiny little thing

Where when your working on a particularly hard case you completely forget to check the time and ignore your body’s needs

So you went into full nesting research mode

What does this entail you might ask?

Surviving off energy drinks and the occasional granola bar

Not healthy reader take care of yourself please and thank you

And Dean seems to agree with me

As he should

But he’s also thrown himself headfirst into the bunker library to figure this bitch out

*cough* hypocrite *cough cough*

But its maybe two, three days and you still haven’t really left your room 

He starts to notice that he hasn’t seen you in a decent amount of time

He doesn’t know how long it is either tbh

So he starts to look for you

After maybe twenty minutes of searching around the bunker, he returns to the library sans (y/n)

He starts looking around the library

He’s smart when he wants to be but he still has his blond moments

Finally, sam points out that you’re probably in your bedroom

So dean goes to knock and sees the freaking mess around you of energy drinks and maybe two granola bars

And completely 

Freaks 

The 

Fuck

Out

Idk why but I feel like dean is sometimes a neat freak

Like when you get those random bursts of energy to clean your room

He immediately starts to pick up the monster cans that collectively probably took off 5 years of your life

As he’s in the middle of holding like 5 cans he realizes how absolutely recked you look

He’s mad

Like not mad at you mostly

Just mad that he didn’t notice

So he immediately pulls you up from where you’re slumped over your desk like a lion would pick up its child

You don’t even protest

He just throws you into the bathroom before abandoning the cans and following you

He turns on your shower and just looks at you with a glance that says business

You nod at the look

You start to strip while he shuts the door and goes back to cleaning

You leave the shower like 20 minutes later to a clean room and a sticky note with a terrible drawing of a stack of pancakes that made you laugh 

You get dressed and walk into the kitchen where Dean was making your breakfast

He gives you a long lecture over your first real meal in days about how taking care of yourself is important and you needed to do better

The entire time he just glares at you in hypocrisy 

Sam:

Research is fucking hard

And sam knew that

But he also loved you

And seeing you push yourself that hard always pained him

But based on his past college experiences he knows that sometimes just locking yourself away is the only way to get something done

You had been researching about ghosts for the brother’s upcoming hunt for a few days now

There had been some pretty violent and vengeful ghosts in a small town a few hours away

This hunt had been offered to you by some fellow hunters because this apparently wasn’t a simple salt and burn

They tried everything and the ghosts just wouldn’t stay dead

And of course, you took one look at the information they sent you before taking a copy of everything they knew already and walked to your room

You scrounged the internet for anything you could find on the ghosts and you didn’t stop digging until there was nothing new to find

Once you had all your information you started piecing it together

You had a huge cork board where you would tack things up at mark each piece of information with a different color that helped you piece together the case

All the while you’re making the boys secret identities

Making their identities required you to look and make sure that there weren’t already agents with their names that could easily be googled

And then you had to put the two of them in the database and make everything look official

It honestly was a piece of work that took you a few days

The entire time you aren’t looking at how long has passed since you holed up in your room

Spoiler alert it’s been a hot minute

Such a smoking minute in fact Sam gets concerned and breaks away from his own personal prep for the hunt to come check on you 

And he’s concerned with what he finds

Impressed

But concerned 

So he shuts your laptop on you to have you explain what you found 

Mostly to get your eyes away from your computer 

Also to learn the information

But mostly for your wellbeing

After your done, you move to go back to your laptop 

He pulls a ‘Nah bitch you thought’

And stands in front of your desk

You’re very unimpressed and pull a bitch face 

He gives you the sam Winchester original that says he doesn’t care before he unplugs your laptop and picks it up

Tells you that you can have it back later after you change, shower, and eat

your #unimpressed

So you change 

Figuring you can shower before you sleep 

You walk to the kitchen expecting to just grab a fast snack and go back to your room and keep working with the info you have

Enter Chef Sammy making you a grilled cheese

You are quite surprised 

At his prompting, you sat down 

You gratefully accept the grilled cheese and finish it within a few minutes

You start talking more about the hunt 

He quickly silences you

Brain break™

He starts talking about a book that he was reading recently and how he thought you would really like the plot

You just listen to his voice and agree once your grilled cheese is gone that you would love to borrow the book from him

You end up showering and taking a 5-hour nap

And when you awake there’s a book on your desk along with your laptop that just says 

“Take care of yourself, please”

[let-it-raines]

Prompt - David and Mary Margaret discover this great groupon deal for an autumn leaf changing tour and cabin rental in Vermont, but the catch, it's for 4 people. Enter in the reluctant best friends that can't stand each other. (And you know, the cabin only has 2 rooms)

🍁 found on ao3 | here | 🍁 

-/-

Here’s the thing about Killian Jones: Emma doesn’t hate him.

She really, really doesn’t. Hate is a strong word that she saves for people like Neal and the asshole who took her parking spot and made her lose her skip and her bigger paycheck last week. It’s not a word she uses to describe her opinion of Killian Jones. That would be better described as mistrust or slight animosity or dislike. In the nicest of terms, it could be described as nonchalance and uncaring, maybe a little bit of annoyance, but those are only true when she hasn’t seen him for awhile and has forgotten how annoying he can be.

Right now, annoyance is the exact word she would use to describe her relationship with him, mostly because his appearance was unexpected and unwelcome.

A month ago, Mary Margaret called Emma and told her that she and David won a trip to Vermont for a weekend of walking trails to see the leaves changing. It included free lodging, free dinners, tickets to a farm where you could pick your own apples and pumpkins and sit at their restaurant on the lake and drink the cider brewed at that very farm. It sounded nice, like the plot and setting of a Hallmark movie Emma only watches when she’s at Mary Margaret’s loft, and Emma told Mary Margaret that she hoped they had a good time.

Then Mary Margaret told her the trip was actually for four people, invited Emma and their mutual friend Ruby, and Emma figured why not? Her job has been stressing her out lately, and it’s a free vacation. Who passes up a free vacation?

Ruby Lucas apparently does in order to go to help her grandmother with the catering of a last-minute wedding, and Emma didn’t know about that until she got in the back of David’s truck and saw Killian Jones sitting in the spot that was supposed to be Ruby’s.

She feels cheated.

This was supposed to be relaxing even if it was going to be spent watching David and Mary Margaret be overly affectionate with each other, and now she has to deal with Killian for an entire weekend.

That’s two days and twelve hours too long if she includes today…which she definitely is.  

They’ve been in the truck for a little over three hours, which means they should be at the lodge soon, and Emma’s trying to focus on the scenery outside. It’s gorgeous, much more rural than what she’s used to living in the central part of Boston, and from what she’s heard of the lodge and the trails surrounding it, it’s only supposed to get better.

This is good. This can be a good weekend. Maybe she can go off on her own for most of it, and she won’t have to be with Killian or the lovebirds. They’ll be too busy getting lost in each other’s eyes, and he’ll be too busy flirting with every woman around. There’s definitely got to be opportunity for her to go off on her own.

If not, she might fling herself into a pile of leaves and never emerge for air.

And she’ll definitely blame it on Ruby for not telling Emma about her last-minute cancellation.

When they do eventually arrive at the lodge – after thirty minutes of Killian complaining about one of his coworkers – it turns out to look more like a small castle than anything else. It’s made of gray stone and covered in ivy and weeds while still being maintained. There’s a round fountain in front of the entryway, and behind the building, Emma can see the path that leads down to the lake and the hills that are full of trees behind it. Every tree is a different shade of red, orange, green, and yellow, and Emma has never wanted to take a picture of nature so much in her life. She’s about to live out the life of one of those girls on Instagram who only do things for the aesthetics, and for a weekend, she can’t say she minds.

What she does mind, however, is that when David hands her the key to her room, he hands Killian a key to the same room.

The same room as in her room.

Her. Room.

Hers.  

“No.”

“Why are you saying no?” David asks, tilting his head in question.

“No, as in no I will not share a room. I thought I was getting my own room.”

“It’s a couple’s weekend, Emma, and I bet you would have been fine sharing a room with Ruby.”

“Yeah, because Ruby’s…”

“Ruby’s not me,” Killian interjects, wrapping his arm around Emma’s shoulder. She tries to shrug it off, but it doesn’t move anywhere. It’s deadweight up there, and Killian has unfortunately turned so he can’t see her death stare. Not that it would have any effect on him. “You see, Dave, it’s just that Emma is wildly attracted to me, and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to contain herself knowing I’m only a few feet away from her, especially when she discovers I sleep in the nude.”

“Oh my God.” Emma moves from underneath Killian’s arm, her strength coming back to her, and moves toward her – their, ugh – door. She turns the key, which is for some reason the old fashioned kind and not a card. “Please stop talking, Jones. I am not wildly attracted to you, and I can handle sharing a room. I’m not a child.”

“See, I knew the lass could do it.”

He winks at her and does this ridiculous eyebrow thing at David, and Emma is seriously considering paying thousands of dollars (she googled this place when they walked inside, and it is not cheap) for her own room.

“We’ll meet you guys in the lobby in thirty minutes, okay? We’re going on a tour of the grounds with our guide and then dinner, so dress for both.”

“When is the hike?” Emma asks, lingering in the doorway.

“Not until tomorrow. I’ll get Mary Margaret to send you the itinerary.”

“She already has. I just haven’t looked at it.”

“I’m not telling her that,” David laughs. “See you soon.”

Emma waves, smiling at David, and turns into the room, dragging her luggage behind her. It doesn’t take long before she’s stopped in her tracks, her sneakers snagging in the carpet, as Killian runs into her back.

“Bloody hell, why’d you stop like that?”

She opens her arm to the bed – singular – in front of them, which would look cozy and soft and all of the good things if she had it all to herself. “If you didn’t bring clothes to sleep in, you’re sleeping in your fucking jeans,” she mumbles before turning toward the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

This is fine.

This is all fine. Emma has been through a hell of a lot worse, and maybe Killian won’t be an ass. Maybe he’ll be the gentleman he always claims to be.

She’s never believed him for a second when he’s said shit like that.

Emma changes out of her leggings and sweatshirt into a pair of jeans and a thick sweater, grabbing her red plaid jacket and a beanie and placing them to the side for when she leaves. She puts on some mascara, a swipe of lipstick, and brushes out her hair. This is as good as it’s going to get, and she doesn’t mind that. Mary Margaret will tell her that tomorrow or whenever they go to the nice dinner that she’ll have to dress up, and Emma is giving herself a break on the makeup until then.

She had to pile it on every night this week for work, and her skin is screaming for a break.

Killian knocks on the door, telling her to hurry up because he has to get ready too, so she takes five extra minutes…out of spite…because she knows it’s just petty enough for it to rub him the wrong way. She doesn’t feel bad about it either. Killian would do the same damn thing.

“You look nice,” Killian tells her when she opens the bathroom door and he’s standing on the wall opposite the bathroom, leg propped up and arms crossed over his chest. His eyes trail up and down her body, and Emma moves out of the doorway. A shiver runs down her spine, but she ignores it.

Definitely, definitely ignores it.

It’s cold up in Vermont, even colder than in Boston, and these old walls aren’t helping.

Killian takes approximately two minutes to get ready, all of which is probably spent getting into ridiculously tight jeans, and then they’re begrudgingly walking to the lobby where David and Mary Margaret are waiting for them already talking to the guide, a peppy woman named Anna who is like the redheaded version of Mary Margaret when Mary Margaret is in one of her “everything is a fairytale” moods.  

Anna takes them throughout the property, giving them the history of the place while offering up different amenities that are not included with the package they won but still accessible if they’re willing to pay. There’s a spa, a gym, three different hiking trails, an option to take row boats out on the lake if the weather is nice, and there are two different restaurants on the property. They also offer drivers to several places around town, including the grocery store and the farm they’ll be visiting tomorrow after their hike, and Emma is sure several other things are said. She zones out about halfway through, distracted by the view of the trees and how they’re reflected on the lake. Everything is in an orange glow right now, one that brings comfort to Emma.

She’s always liked sunsets. It’s cheesy and she’d never admit it out loud, but she likes the predictability of them. They don’t always look the same, but they happen every day, even if she can’t see it. She likes that, having that constant. It’s not something she has a lot of, constants that is, and she takes every one she can get.

Maybe this weekend won’t be so bad.

If she says that enough, she just might believe it.

-/-

Dinner is nice.

The food is good, the wine surprisingly good since she was pretty sure it was going to be some funky homemade stuff, and even more surprisingly, the company is great.

When she thinks that, she wonders if the alcohol content in the wine was higher than the server said it was.

All the good thoughts about Killian go away, however, when they’re back in their (still so awful to have to think) hotel room, and Emma is awkwardly sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing lotion on her arms. Killian, thank goodness, is in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt, so he’s not even going to attempt to sleep naked.

She was 100% sure that he would try, and she’s honestly kind of sad she won’t get a chance to slap him.

On the cheek.

On his face.

She doesn’t want to slap him anywhere else.

Okay, that wine’s alcohol content was definitely higher than it should have been.

Killian plops down on the bed, the mattress shaking beneath him, and tugs the covers over him. His movements jostle her, and she grits her teeth as she finishes moisturizing. He turns on the TV, puts it on some show she has never heard of, and Emma tries to keep calm. She’s tired. She’s going to fall asleep quickly, and the TV won’t bother her. She falls asleep every night with the TV on, so this is nothing new.

Emma turns down the corner of the bed on her side and slides underneath before flipping the switch for the light. The room darkens except for the TV and the glow of the alarm clock, and Emma closes her eyes. They’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, and she doesn’t want to be walking around wishing she had an IV of coffee to keep her awake.

Slowly, sleep comes for her, tugging at the corners of her eyes, and just as she’s about to succumb to it, the comforter is tugged off of her, leaving her foot exposed to the cold air of the room.

What the hell?

Emma tugs it back, shifting her leg to have it covered, and for a moment, she’s warm. Warm and cozy and not even the too loud laugh track on the TV is disturbing her.

The fact that Killian pulls away the comforter again is, however, disturbing her.

Actually, it really freaking annoys her, so she pulls it back. Hard this time, and Killian grunts in response and rolls over. she feels his foot brush against her calf, and she kicks out, moving him back to his side. It’s only a queen-sized bed, so there’s not a lot of room for them to stay separate. She’s about three seconds away from finding pillows or their suitcases and putting them in between the two of them so he stops encroaching on her space.

And taking her comforter.

Because it’s definitely hers. Just like this room was supposed to be.

Killian wasn’t even supposed to be on this trip. It was supposed to be Ruby, who definitely would have stayed on her side of the bed. Better yet, she probably would have met someone and would be staying with them, and Emma would have this entire bed to herself.

It’s so comfortable that it’s a shame she has to share it. She’s not used to that anymore, and she likes to stretch out.

The comforter moves again, and Emma grips onto it, holding it where she is and tucking it underneath her ass to keep it as steady as possible. At this point, he has to be doing it to annoy her, and Emma is not going to lose this battle.

She’ll stay up all night if she has to.

“You know, Swan,” Killian mumbles, “normally I prefer to do more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back than fight over the covers.”

Emma groans and rolls over on her stomach, pointedly kicking out at him. “Shut up, Jones.”

“If that’s what the lady wishes.”

Emma mutters into her pillow, and for a few minutes, as the blanket stealing calms down and the TV quiets, Emma wonders if she could feasibly fake some sleeping disorder that has her punching Killian in the face all night.

She can be a pretty good actress sometimes. She could probably pull it off.

She doesn’t do that, though, because she eventually falls asleep, one foot sticking out into the cold air.

Damn you, Jones.

-/-

There’s a warm body nears hers.

That’s the first thought Emma has when she wakes up – after thinking of how annoying her alarm sound is. The body warm and solid and a little hairy, and it takes her two seconds to remember where she is and who she’s sharing a bed with. She knew she should have slept on the floor last night because in no world does she want to have her leg pressing up against Killian’s leg and her ass…

“Oh my God,” she murmurs, eyes blowing wide as she turns and moves her body as much as she can. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my Goooooooood.”

“What are you yelling about?” Killian groans, shifting behind her, which only makes it worse.

“I’m not yelling,” Emma hisses. She pushes away and sits up, and there’s no need to even adjust the comforter because none of it is on her. “What are you doing near me?”

He raises his brow, wrinkles on his forehead popping up. Getting a look at him now, she knows the ruffled look he sometimes does with his hair is natural, and for some reason, that really freaking annoys her.

“I was sleeping until you decided to have a conniption.”

“Yeah, well that’s because your dick…oh shit.”

Emma wasn’t going to say that. She really wasn’t, and from the way Killian’s brow is arching higher, she knows that she’s messed up. She’s given him the perfect set up for all of his innuendos, and knowing him, she’s never going to be allowed to live this down.

What a great start to her morning.

“Usually that’s not the reaction, but I understand your shock, love. You weren’t prepared, and it’s, well, a lot to take in.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” She takes the pillow from behind her and smacks him with it as he laughs. He’s getting far too much enjoyment out of this, and she’s wondering how long she would be in jail if she smothered him. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Make it cold and bracing. I think you might need it.”

“Yeah, I’m not the one with morning wood, but you keep thinking that.” She gets off the mattress and reaches down for her bag. Killian may have unpacked his stuff, but she didn’t bother to do that, even if it means everything is wrinkled. “Please don’t take care of it while I’m showering. That’s just…we have to share the bed, Jones, and I’ve worked in hotels before. I know they don’t always change the sheets.”

He mock salutes, the cheekiest grin on his face, and this is really going to be a long day.

-/-

It’s a long day.

Before she can even get coffee in her, she’s dragged out to the hiking trail. The sun hasn’t fully risen, and they’re supposed to be watching the sunrise and how it matches up with all the changing trees. It’s beautiful. She knows it is, and she does manage to take some pictures that she’s sure capture about half of the beauty. The thing is that despite her best efforts, she didn’t sleep well, and she’s only running on adrenaline and annoyance.

Mostly at Killian.

He’s been staring at her all morning, a joke on the tip of his tongue about their morning, and he’s started to make them several times before Emma shoots him a look or elbows him in the stomach. Mary Margaret has given Emma several funny looks, and if she wasn’t so wrapped up in David and the romance of the changing leaves and the sunrise, she’d probably ask about it.

Mary Margaret is not one for subtlety or staying out of someone else’s business.

David guides them over the trail, which is somehow all uphill despite no discernible incline, and eventually the come to a perch with a few of the lake and the lodge, miles of trees surrounding it. Emma doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything quite like it, and now she can truly see why so many people travel here just to stare at some trees.

“It’s something isn’t it, Swan?” Killian asks as he walks up behind her, the heat of his body making the chill of the air fade for a moment.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“I didn’t think looking at trees would be your thing. I don’t take you as much of a nature person.”

Emma turns to face him and crosses her arms over her chest. “You don’t know me well enough to know if I’m a nature person or not.”

He steps closer, invading her space like he always does, and maybe she’s a bit of a liar when she says he doesn’t know her. “Just who are you then, Swan?”

Emma cocks her head and straightens her back, not letting him overwhelm her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He smiles and nods, lashes fluttering until his eyes are hooded. “Perhaps I would.”

“We better get moving if we want to make it to the apple orchard on time,” David tells them, making Emma jump away from Killian and smooth down her flannel over her stomach. “You okay? You look flushed.”

“Just the walk,” Emma lies. “I’m sure that’s all.”

-/-

“I will throw this apple at your head.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Emma groans, audibly, and plucks another apple from the tree and puts it in her basket. It’s getting a little heavy, and not in a million years could she eat all these apples before they spoil. They’re not for her, though. They’re for the farm and its cider and pies and tarts and all the other apple goods they make. She must admit that it’s a brilliant business plan, having people pick the apples for you and then make them pay for it and the food and drinks.

She can’t believe people actually pay to do this. The hike, she gets, foraging for your own food, not so much.

Emma picks an apple out of her basket, one that kind of looks gross and a little squished, and she tosses it at the back of Killian’s head. It hits, just barely, and she stops as he reaches up to touch his hair.

“What is wrong with you?” he hisses, turning around to glare at her.

“You’re the one who has spent the last ten minutes being invasive to my personal life, so what’s wrong with you?”

“Asking if you were still seeing Graham Humbert is not invasive.”

“It is definitely invasive.”

Killian’s shoulders shrug, and he steps closer to her. Really close, actually. He does this obnoxious thing where he’s always encroaching on her space when he speaks, swaying closer and dipping his head down until their eyes are level. He’s doing that now, obnoxious, downright cocky grin gracing his lips, and Emma backs away, dodging some low-hanging apples, until her back is against the tree and she’s putting her basket on the ground. She really hopes there aren’t ants crawling all over her, but at this point, she’s too distracted to care.

For every inch that she moved, Killian matched her. And now, he’s more in her space than ever, the heat of his body warming her more than her jacket. How is he that damn hot?

Only in the temperature sense…not in the other way. She is obviously still a little tipsy from the wine last night that she still maintains had a higher alcohol content than usual.

He chuckles, and his eyes look at her before glancing down at her lips. It’s not even a quick glance. It’s pointed, and Emma knows she was meant to notice it.

“Please,” Emma huffs, “you couldn’t handle it.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

She wants to say something back, some smart, snide remark that will make him frustrated, but she also wants to prove him wrong. Emma doesn’t care what anyone else has to say, and she’s heard all the rumors. Kissing Killian Jones is not going to have an effect on her.

So she grabs the lapels of his coat and pulls him forward until his mouth is on hers and Emma’s head is pressing into the back of the tree. The bark scratching the back of her neck would be uncomfortable if she wasn’t so focused on Killian. He’s not kissing her back, his lips rigid against her, and she’s just about to pull back and give him shit over being a horrible kisser when he moves. His hand comes to her hair, yanking on the strands as he tilts her head the way he wants it, and his prosthetic rests at her waist. Every thought she had about him being stiff was wrong.

She’s never felt anyone move like this.

She’s also had some pretty damn good kisses in her life, but she can’t remember the last time one took her breath away and made heat curl over her skin as soft lips moved over her and slightly rough stubble scratched against her skin, likely leaving her red.

Emma can’t remember the last time she was kissed well, and damn, what a shame that is.

She could get used to that.

But she knows that’s a dangerous thought, and this is a dangerous game she’s playing. If she’s bringing cards to the table to play, she has to be open to the possibility that she can lose her hand.

Emma isn’t open to that right now.

So, she pulls back, just barely though, and tries to catch her breath as Killian does the same. He’s panting, and in any other circumstance, the sound would be like heaven to her, a strong indication of what’s to come next. Not in this one, though, and when Killian moves in, she pulls away.

“That was,” he begins, seemingly trailing off in a search for the words to describe what just happened.

She doesn’t know either, but it doesn’t take her long to figure out what she wants to say.

“A one-time thing,” she finishes, knowing she has to say it as she looks at him and the flush of his cheeks. “I’m going to find David and Mary Margaret. Don’t follow me. Wait five minutes and...” she glances down toward his jeans “…calm down.”

He mockingly bows, same smug smile she’s used to back on his lips. She knows how they feel now, and that feels wrong.

“As you wish, milady.”

-/-

The late afternoon lunch (or is it early dinner considering the time?) is awkward as hell. They’re sitting at a small, supposedly cozy table in the midst of the most romantic patio ever created (think of all the string lights in the world and then double it) with wine and cider in their glasses and good food on the table in front of them.

Emma wants to run away.

She can’t.

It really freaking sucks.

And it doesn’t help that Killian keeps looking at her with these big blue eyes that she doesn’t normally see. He looks earnest almost, and she doesn’t think Killian Jones has been earnest a day in his life.

Then again, how much does she know?

“Oh, this is so romantic,” Mary Margaret sighs. “I’m so glad we won this trip.”

“Does romance include two of your mates sitting at the table with you?” Killian asks. “Dave was playing footsy with me earlier we’re so cramped in here.”

“Was that you?” David hisses, cheeks going red, and Emma starts to laugh. That’s the best thing she’s heard all day.

“Yes, it is romantic even with you and Emma here. And with David somehow mistaking your leg with mine.”

“In my defense, Killian’s calves are only a little bigger than yours, sweetheart.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.”

“Flattered, of course,” Killian says. “I have bloody fantastic legs. Ask Swan here. She felt them up last night.”

Emma kicks out her foot at Killian under the table, not one hundred percent sure she’s actually hitting his leg, but then she sees the slight wince. Gotcha.

“So, what are we doing after this?” Emma asks to change the subject. “Another hike? More apple picking? Second dinner?”

Mary Margaret sighs, “a carriage ride back to the hotel, but they’re going to take us the scenic route.”

“Of course they are,” Emma mutters, stabbing her food and stuffing it into her mouth. She’s going to need more wine.

-/-

The carriage ride is worse than the dinner. For one, the horses smell horrible, much worse than the food, and the carriage is somehow smaller than their table. She’s pressed completely up against Killian, their sides aligned, and he has his arm over her shoulder while they share a blanket. She tried to refuse, but it’s gotten really cold. Her nose and her fingers are going to fall off soon, and she’s as zipped up as she can be.

David and Mary Margaret practically make out across from them, and even though Emma knows more about their sex life than she would ever want to know, sitting his close to it as a horse drags them along the road is not something she’s comfortable with.

“Make it stop,” she murmurs into Killian’s shoulder, half to keep her from having to look at David and Mary Margaret but mostly to keep her nose warm.

“I’m afraid we have to ride this one out, love. If you want, we could share our own kiss…again.”

She hits his thigh underneath the blanket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever helps you sleep through the night.”

-/-

She doesn’t sleep through the night.

She’s too aware of her surroundings, of the warm body a few inches from her own.

It’s all too much, even if he didn’t try to steal the covers tonight, and if she wasn’t so damn stubborn, she’d sleep on the floor. She told herself she would do that tonight, but now it feels like admitting defeat.

Emma doesn’t like to admit defeat.

-/-

They go for another hike the next morning, their last morning in Vermont.

Emma sticks next to David the entire time, asking him mundane questions she doesn’t care about just to keep the conversation flowing and to keep Killian from making any jokes she doesn’t want him to make. It works, mostly, and Emma is even able to enjoy herself and the view for a lot of it. Boston can be gorgeous, but she’s going to miss a lot of this.

It’s the picture perfect dream, but Emma knows perfection doesn’t exist. And in pictures, it’s almost always photoshopped.

Doesn’t make it any less stunning as she stares out at it all, and it doesn’t make her want the picture perfect dream any less. The one where she isn’t so scared of getting hurt again and where she lets herself have fun, lets herself feel safe.

Lets her heart in on the decision making with her head.

-/-

Emma sleeps on most of the car ride back to Boston, and when she wakes up, it’s with a sore neck and tired eyes. It’s also in front of her apartment. She thanks the Nolans for the weekend, and very slowly, it dawns on her that Killian is no longer in the car. They must have dropped him off first, and she doesn’t know why, but it stings a bit that she doesn’t get to say goodbye to him as well.

That’s the lack of sleep talking, obviously.

Emma would never miss saying goodbye to Killian because that would mean she was going to miss his presence. She wouldn’t do that, though. Of course not. Because she didn’t have a good time when he was around. He didn’t make her smile at all this weekend.

He never makes her smile at all.

If Emma was using her own superpower to detect lies, there would be a blaring red light over her head with a little bell blaring in her ears.

She is ignoring it in favor of stuffing everything about this weekend in her bag and not looking into it. It was pretty. Nice pictures were taken, good food was had, and nothing else happened.

(Ding, ding, ding.)

-/-

Life returns to normal. She goes to work, goes to the gym, is occasionally dragged out to bars and clubs with her friends on the nights she isn’t working.

(She does finally get that guy from two weeks ago, and the paycheck is worth the struggle.)

Killian is around a lot more than he usually is. He’s in school getting his degree in software engineering on some scholarship he got from his service in the Navy, and he usually bartends at night. That job fizzled out, though, so when they all have pizza night or go out or meet up for lunch, he’s usually there.

Emma finds it odd, but she doesn’t mind.

She doesn’t pay much attention to him because she’s making a conscious effort specifically not to pay attention to him, not until he misses a fantastic opportunity to make an innuendo, and she realizes he hasn’t been making a lot of those lately. They’re there, sure, but not in as high of a quantity as they usually are.

It’s weird, but the weirdest thing about it all is how much she misses them.

Huh.

When did that happen?

When did the flirting stop annoying her and start making her laugh? When did she start liking it?

Liking him?

The thought comes to her without true warning and without permission. It’s wiggled its way out of the deep caverns of her mind and made it to the surface, gasping for air so it can live out in the open. She has a physical reaction to it, her hands coming to cover her mouth as she inhales a deep breath that has everyone looking away from the TV to look at her.

“You alright?” Ruby asks from her spot on David and Mary Margaret’s couch.

“I’m fine,” Emma lies, knowing her friends won’t push her further. They’ve known her long enough to know not to do that too often. “Just need some water.”

She gets up from her chair and walks toward the kitchen, her mind running faster than Usain Bolt, and she tries to focus on pouring herself a glass of water and on the football game that’s on. She doesn’t even really like football, but it’s kind of a fall tradition around here. She just has to go with it.

Everything is fine. This is fine.

This is…this is crazy. It’s even crazier that she can’t tell if her body is experience fear, joy, or some insane mixture of both bottled up with all of the adrenaline it can muster.

“You sure you’re alright, love?” Killian asks as he walks into the kitchen puts his plate in the sink. Of course he followed her in here. He, unlike Ruby, Mary Margaret, and David, has no qualms about bothering her. “You look a bit flushed. You’ve gone red around your cheeks.”

“Fine,” she lies again. “I’m fine.”

If she says that word enough, it’ll be true.

“Are you certain because I – ”

“Why don’t you flirt with me anymore?” she blurts before she can stop herself. She must be going crazy because this is insane. Who has taken over her body, and can she get it back please? Preferably before she does something stupid like kissing him again.

Then again, that wasn’t all stupid. It felt pretty damn good.

Killian arches his brow, his forehead wrinkling, and she knows she’s about to get some dumbass answer. He scratches behind his ear with his prosthetic. “Because if I’m to win your heart Emma, as I’d like to, I’d like to do it in a way that doesn’t piss you off, as much as I do love that. It’s quite entertaining for me, especially when you go red as you are now. It’s a becoming color on you, but I realize my methods of getting your attention were a bit childish.”

Well, okay then. Maybe not a dumbass answer.

This is a weird, weird few minutes.

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve been doing the adult equivalent of pulling pigtails on a playground?’

He shrugs. “Aye, I guess.”

Emma, once more, doesn’t know what to do or say, so she lets instinct drive her. She steps forward and places her hand on his shoulder, looking him dead in the eye. They’re ridiculously blue, and it’s just not fair. “Asking me to dinner would have worked much better than that. Food has always been the way to my heart, especially if it’s cheap, greasy, and will make my stomach hurt afterward.”

She leaves the ball in his court (or in his possession on the field since they’re watching football and her sports metaphors should make sense, and she’s 82% sure that’s a correct metaphor), and walks away before being pulled back by her wrist until she’s looking at him again.

Once more, he’s earnest, and she’s still getting used to that.

And those blue eyes. Those too. They don’t have to be all devilish all the time.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me, love?” Killian asks, hopeful, kind smile on his face.

Genuine. He’s genuine, and she feels that little flutter that she hasn’t felt in awhile, not since she kissed him against the apple tree to prove a point to herself that she wouldn’t be affected by kissing him.

Emma really is a bad liar, especially when she’s lying to herself.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[arowrimo]

AroWriMo Week 4 Roundup

It’s the end of the last week of AroWriMo, and time to put all the great works in one place. Read through the other submissions, and support the writers where you enjoy their content!

Play/Script

Leaving: A (very) Unfinished Stage Play by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, direct link (blogspot) Summary: A fractured personal narrative on entering and leaving an unhealthy relationship and the pain of being aromantic without that knowledge. Word Count: 1200 Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Personal CW: Depression, manipulation, unhealthy romantic relationship, processing self-blame

Novels/Novellas

Oh, the truth shall set you free by @amanita-cynth

Summary: “I know exactly four things about Alway.” She said wryly. “She’s 23, a genius, she keeps at least three feet between her and other people at all times, and she can root out the truth like nobody else.” Of course, coming from another profiler, such an assessment carried a lot of weight. Eden Alway, the newest member of an FBI profiling unit, is odd even by their standards. But as they begin to pry more into her life and struggle with some of what they find, her past is racing to catch up with her and drag them into the storm that was her life. Featuring misunderstandings, odd behaviour, the constant problems of amatonormativity, and a rapidly escalating series of bizarre problems that they are in no way qualified for but definitely isn’t magic. Word Count: 11000 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Theme: Fantasy Language: English Genre: Crime, portal fantasy CW: Romance, Violence, Gore, amatonormativity, religious imagery, mild body horror later on, currently a WIP

Lyrics

Embers by @clad-in-sunshine​ (Wordpress, Twitter)

Post, Direct link (tumblr), Direct link (wordpress) Summary: I’m terrible at picking titles. But I have been enjoying writing songs, and this is one I wrote for AroWriMo and the Valentines theme of ‘Love, Romance and Friendship’ at my local folk club. The middle part is entirely uninteresting to me, so this is more about love and friendship than anything else, and the various forms that can take. The tune is called 'Midnight on The Water'. Word Count: 479 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Language: English Genre: Singer/songwriter, Folk

Comics/Zine

My Aro Heart: A Zine by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary:    A short zine about loving the aro community. Word Count: 50 Language: English Genre: Zine CW: Love (non-romantic)

Flash Fiction

Self-Reliance by 27twinsister (Ao3)

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Tsubasa likes to be alone. The note contains my headcanons for Tsubasa and what the words mean.  Word Count: 161 Prompt: Self-reliance Language: English Fandom: Mahou Sentai Magiranger            Genre: Character study CW: None

Non-Romantic Relationships by 27twinsister (Ao3)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary:  Jiro doesn’t know if his relationship with Yuki is romantic. But it’s special to him. The note contains my headcanons for Jiro and what the words mean  Word Count: 209 Prompt: Non-Romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Dogengers Genre: Character study CW: Romance mention

Non-fiction

Relationship Anarchy and Hugs by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: Applying relationship anarchy to family relationships and hugs. Word Count: 522 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Non-Fiction CW: consent issues, boundary breaking

Thursday Thoughts: AroWriMo Week 4: Non-Romantic Relationships & Self-Reliance by @sophieakatz

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Word Count: Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: Romance mention

Poetry

Little Boxes by anon*

Post, Direct link (Google docs) Word Count: 456 Prompt: Freedom Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Poem/non-fiction

To My Dear and Loving... by @writingthingsilike​

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Summary: A poem about being aromantic but still wanting a life partner Word Count: 165 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: None

AroAce by Catolica (Ao3)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Word Count: 254 Language: English CW: Choose not to use warnings

Care, uncoupled by @graces-of-luck​

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Word Count: 149 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Free Verse CW: Romance

Human = ( X - Y ) / Z by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: A poem about human essentialism Word Count: 129 Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Poetry CW: Mentions of essentialism and touches on dehumanizing ideas

Short Stories

My Valentine by @bimboztown on twitter

Post, Direct link (Google docs) Word Count: 305 Category: Short Stories Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Coming of Age CW: Suicide attempt mention

Lights, Camera, Aro! by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: An aromantic actress is conflicted over how to engage with a romantically coded improv challenge. Word Count: 1885 Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Literary CW: a ghost, pressure.

He Is Mild And He Is Meek by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FFN)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: He is mild and he is meek, he is Momo and he is what I seek. Suki always wanted three things in life. One was to become a professional soccer player. The second was to live in a cute apartment filled with succulents. The third was to get a cat. Momo probably wasn’t anyone’s first pick as a pet but Suki was determined to get this cat to love her as much as she loved him. If only he’d accept he had a home now. Word Count: 6500 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender. Characters: Suki, Momo, Sokka, Aang Genre: Friendship, Hurt/ Comfort CW: Mention of sex, non-excessive swearing

sick of all those love songs (sing to me about my friend on the moon). by nwhrs

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Johnny has always tried to follow the game, Ten has always stood out like a sore thumb, Chenle has always been quite vocal about himself, and Jisung really has absolutely no idea just what is going on (or does he?). And this is just a little part of their story. Word Count: 16413 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Fandom: NCT // Park Jisung, Zhong Chen Le, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Suh Youngho | Johnny Genre: Slice of Life CW: Romance, Discussions of romance & amatonormativity

he loves you (he loves you not) by @ternaryflower53

Summary:    "Who's your companion?" the man asks.    "This is Jango," he says, not adding his last name. They have a false  one, a name Jango sometimes uses in undercover missions when he doesn’t  want to risk being recognized as the Mand’alor’s son, but better if they can avoid using it. "He's my husband."    The man frowns down at his datapad, then looks up to study Jango. "I wasn't expecting you to come with a partner, Master Jedi."    or, jangobi fake dating au, but make it aromantic. Word Count: 6270 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett) Genre: Fanfic CW: Romance, fake/pretend relationship, request to be in a romantic relationship that gets shut down

[barisiscourtroom]

@thejuryisout​ Thanks for the prompt! ♥

Prompt 6 on the prompt list in question is “Doing face masks or other beauty treatments”, and I went with face masks. Kinda. It's mostly just Rafael taking care of a tired Sonny tbh, 2k of fluff. =)

This is also heavily inspired by Sonny's UC at that rapist shelter in 17x19 (Sheltered Outcasts), but I see it as taking place at some vague later time. Sonny is still a detective though, and it all takes place after he’s done.

Not important at all, but I googled “italian restaurants delivery manhattan” for a restaurant name, so that *is* an actual restaurant, but I know absolutely nothing about it more than it's Italian, in Manhattan, and probably delivers.

Big thanks to @novemberhush​ for the beta and all the help with this ♥

I hope you all like it! ♥

To Be Home ao3

2100 words | Gen characters: Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Rafael takes care of Sonny, Tired Sonny, Soft Rafael, Spoiled Sonny, Non-Sexual Nudity

The first thing Rafael did upon seeing Sonny at the precinct after Sonny had been undercover for two weeks was to cup his face between his hands and say, "Oh, baby, you look like shit."

Sonny rolled his eyes and said, "Thanks, I’ve missed you too."

Olivia and the rest of the squad didn’t give them more time than that to catch up before demanding Sonny’s time, and it was nearly four hours before they got home.

Rafael wasn’t wrong, though, Sonny really did look like shit. The bags under his eyes were big and dark, he hadn’t shaved in days, his hair was greasy and messy, his clothes ill-fitting, worn, and had some unpleasant stains. He also had some bruises after getting jumped for being thought to be a rapist a couple of days earlier, but those were all under his clothes.

Thankfully it was Friday, and they both had the weekend off. Sonny would possibly get calls about the case, but Olivia had promised him he wouldn’t have to come in until Monday morning, and even though he wanted to work the case after spending so much time on it, he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing, and most importantly comfortable weekend at home, just him and Rafael and good food and soft sheets and their wonderful shower.

Rafael asked if he wanted to cook when they got home, he knew how much Sonny liked it and how it could be downright therapeutic for him, but he could obviously also see how tired Sonny was.

"Do you want me to order take out tonight, or do you want to cook?" he asked.

Sonny sighed. "Take out," he said regretfully. "I do want to cook, but not today."

"Okay, you can cook tomorrow," Rafael said. "I’ll even help you."

"Oh boy, you have missed me," Sonny teased.

"I have missed you, my Sunshine," Rafael said, squeezing his hand. "It’s been awfully dark around here without you."

"Rafael," Sonny said, a little choked up. Rafael was very good with words when he wanted to be.

But for someone being so good with words, Rafael could sometimes have a hard time admitting things, like that he had missed Sonny, so it meant a lot to Sonny that he said that. He always showed it in other ways though, by being more tactile than usual mostly, but also by taking care of Sonny.

"Let’s go get you cleaned up and into something more comfortable," Rafael said.

"Yeah," Sonny said.

"Shower or bath?" Rafael asked as he led Sonny to their bedroom.

"Shower," Sonny said. He’d just fall asleep in a bath, and their shower really was wonderful, he had missed it.

"Okay, I’ll put out some things for you," Rafael said, opening drawers to get clothes for him.

Sonny slowly stripped his clothes off and put them in the laundry basket, and Rafael went to the bathroom, then Sonny put his phone to charge on his nightstand before joining Rafael. The clothes were in a neat pile on a shelf, a fresh towel hung outside the shower, and Rafael was fiddling with the bottles in the shower.

He turned to Sonny and looked him over when he entered the bathroom, momentarily frowning at his bruises, but then he looked Sonny in the eyes. "Oh my, there’s a naked man in my bathroom, what ever will I do," he said.

"You could kiss him?" Sonny suggested.

Rafael smiled and walked up to him to slide his arms around his waist. "Great idea," he said and tilted his head up for a kiss that Sonny readily gave him. It didn’t last long, but even those few seconds were enough for Sonny to feel some leftover tension in his body dissipate.

"I’ve missed you," he said against Rafael’s lips, and Rafael tightened his grip on him and kissed him again.

When Rafael pulled back, he frowned and gently touched next to one of Sonny’s bruises. "I don’t like this," he muttered quietly.

"It’s not too bad," Sonny said.

Rafael’s face didn’t change as he met Sonny’s eyes. "I still don’t like it," he said.

Sonny smiled. "I know, and I love you for that," he said, and Rafael’s face softened.

He cupped Sonny’s cheek, brushed his thumb over his scruff. "Straight razor tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes, please," Sonny said, nearly groaning. He had planned on shaving that day, but he loved it when Rafael shaved him with the straight razor, and he could stand being scruffy for another day if it meant he got that.

"Good. Go shower, cariño," Rafael said. "I was going to empty your bag while you do that, is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, thanks," Sonny said. He pressed a kiss to Rafael’s forehead and stepped into the shower, and Rafael caught his hand on his way to give it a quick squeeze before leaving the bathroom.

The shower was divine, but Sonny didn’t linger. He showered carefully, washed himself meticulously, because he felt filthy and he wanted to get everything from that undercover stint off his body, but while he didn’t hurry, he didn’t stay longer than necessary either.

Once he was done and dry enough, he put on the clothes Rafael had picked for him, underwear, pajama pants, and a soft v-neck, and left the bathroom. His bag was gone from the bedroom, and his phone was still charging, so he left it on the bedside table and went to find Rafael.

"Babe?" he said.

"Yes, cariño?" Rafael said, coming from the kitchen.

Sonny smiled and pulled him in for a hug, nuzzling his face against his neck. "I just missed you," he said.

"I’m right here," Rafael said softly, holding onto him. "I was just preparing for dinner, it’ll be here soon."

"What are we having?" Sonny asked.

"Antonucci," Rafael said, and Sonny groaned, he hadn’t had proper Italian food in two weeks, the closest was mediocre pizza that was only Italian in name. "Figured you’d want some comfort food today."

"You figured right," Sonny said. "Thanks."

Rafael pulled back to cup Sonny’s face between his hands. He smiled and leaned in for a peck on the lips, then he trailed gentle fingers over his face, his forehead and under his eyes. "How about we do some face masks tonight?"

"It’s that bad, huh," Sonny said.

"Well, whatever soap you’ve used hasn’t exactly been kind to your skin. It could use a boost." Rafael said. 

"Face masks tonight, a proper bath together tomorrow?" Sonny suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Rafael said. "I’ll shave you after the bath."

"Great," Sonny said.

More than an hour later, after a slow meal with wine and dessert, Rafael dragged Sonny to the bathroom to get their face masks on. He had a couple of small single-use face packs, and he got one of those for Sonny, and his usual one for himself. Sonny rinsed his face, patted it dry-ish, then Rafael gently spread an immediately soothing gel on his face.

"Oh, that feels good," Sonny said.

"Good, I haven’t tried that one before, but it’s supposed to be good," Rafael said.

"Am I your guinea pig?" Sonny asked, smiling.

"Stop smiling so much, relax your face," Rafael said and rolled his eyes. "And no, my mother swears by it and I trust her, I just haven’t gotten around to trying it myself yet."

"Whatever you say, dear," Sonny said, working hard not to grin.

Rafael huffed, but he was smiling as he finished spreading the gel. "There," he said.

Sonny stayed to watch as Rafael rinsed his own face and applied his usual one, because he liked watching Rafael, then they went to sit in the living room to let their masks do their work for 20 minutes.

"I want to cuddle," Sonny said.

"Okay?" Rafael said.

"Like, put my head on your shoulder and tuck my face against your neck, or put my head on your chest to listen to your heart," Sonny said.

"I think you will survive 20 minutes," Rafael said.

Sonny sighed deeply. "Doubtful," he said, and Rafael laughed quietly. "Stop smiling so much, relax your face."

"Oh, shut up," Rafael said, and Sonny closed his eyes as he leaned back against the couch with a smile on his face. "For being the light of my life, you sure are a nuisance."

"You love me," Sonny said, holding out his hand for Rafael to take, which he did.

"And I have no idea why," he said.

"It’s because I’m tall," Sonny said.

"Or it could be because you’re kind," Rafael said.

"Yeah?" Sonny asked.

"I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re tall, but I think there’s something about your face that I like more," Rafael said.

"Really?" Sonny asked. He was probably smiling more than Rafael wanted him to in that mask, but he couldn’t be bothered to try and stifle it.

"It’s a good face, congrats on that, by the way," Rafael said. "I also think it might be because you’re so good and that you make me want to be a better man, that you’re sweet and funny and smart. Or that you’re an SVU detective, that you care so much that you just spent 2 weeks being miserable just to help people."

"Rafael," Sonny said. He turned his head to look at Rafael, found him watching him with a soft smile on his lips. "Come on, don’t make me cry, I have a face mask."

Rafael laughed quietly. "I missed you, Sunshine," he said softly, and Sonny rolled his eyes, which were getting too wet. For Rafael to have said that twice in one day, he must have missed him a lot.

"I said don’t make me cry," Sonny said, but then he squeezed Rafael’s hand. "I missed you too, love."

"I know, and we’ll be clingy and annoying this whole weekend to make up for it," Rafael said.

Sonny sighed happily. "Yeah," he said. "You’ll even help me cook."

"I’ll even help you cook," Rafael agreed. It wasn’t as if he never did, it was more that they were both usually very busy and Rafael wasn’t the biggest fan of cooking, so he tended to take the opportunity to get other things done while Sonny cooked since he didn’t mind doing it on his own.

"Okay, has this been on for 20 minutes yet?" Sonny asked.

"More like five, if even that," Rafael said.

"Oh, come on," Sonny grumbled. "Why did I agree to this today? I’m too cuddly for this."

"We can watch something, take your mind off it for a while?" Rafael suggested.

"Oh, did that Canadian garage guy post anything fun?" Sonny asked, exaggerating the Canadian accent on garage.

"Let’s see," Rafael said, grabbing his laptop from the table.

He had posted, and they watched one of his videos. Sonny would never understand why it was so fun to watch a guy clean a car, but he loved his videos, and while he didn’t think Rafael liked them quite as much as he did, he knew he liked them enough to indulge Sonny and watch some of them with him.

The videos were half an hour long though, and Sonny was far too needy to sit that long without being able to cuddle properly, so twenty minutes into the video he leaned forward to tap the space bar on the laptop, pausing it.

"It’s been 20 minutes," he said.

Rafael laughed quietly and shook his head, but he followed Sonny to the bathroom, where they rinsed their masks off.

"Moisturizer too," Rafael said, taking a pot of moisturizer from the cabinet. Sonny just smiled at him, and Rafael sighed. "You’re milking this."

"Yeah," Sonny said, then closed his eyes as Rafael gently massaged the moisturizer into his skin.

He cupped his chin when he was done and pressed a kiss to Sonny’s lips. "Okay, let’s go see how that filthy car turned out," he said, putting the moisturizer away.

As soon as Rafael sat down, he held his arms out for Sonny, who immediately tucked himself against his side, his head on Rafael’s shoulder, half of his face pressed against his neck. He could barely see the end of the video, but it was worth it, finally getting some proper cuddles.

Rafael held him tight, carding fingers through his hair and touching his face, and once the video was finished, he turned more towards Sonny and wrapped him in his arms.

"It’s good to have you home," he said quietly against Sonny’s hair.

"It’s good to be home," Sonny said.

[allsassnoclass]

hi hazel!! how about “i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years” with hmmmm mashton? maybe? feels mashton-y to me but whatever u think works best is good with me <3 love you <3

anything for you Iba <3

Ficmas day 10

Rating: T for language

Read on AO3

Getting Ashton for Secret Santa is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because Michael already knows what he wants to give him, a curse because he wants to give him the world.  Well, more accurately he wants to give him the entire universe.

Ashton Irwin is arguably the universe’s finest creation, founded on stardust and made up of infinite galaxies.  Michael has been in love with him since around the time they met.  Ashton deserves something as wonderful and celestial as himself, but that would require Michael to suddenly develop the ability to trap the universe in the palm of his hands, cradled close until he could hand it off to someone worthy enough to hold it.  Even if he could, the universe seems like a fragile thing.  He’d probably drop it, knowing him.

Maybe getting Ashton was more of a curse than a blessing.  If he can’t give him some sort of celestial body, he’s out of ideas.  It’s probably for the best, because he’s not exactly keen on letting Ashton know that he’s been in love with him for so long, and you can’t give someone the entire universe without prompting a few questions.

He seeks out Calum for advice, because Calum is great at gifts, but he doesn’t want him to know who he got so he asks what he would give Luke instead.

It turns out Calum is so great at gifts because he knows exactly what each person needs.  Knowing what Luke needs does nothing to help Michael figure out what to get Ashton.

Michael spends a lot of time googling stuff like good gifts for friends and good gifts for crushes and then backtracks, because most of those imply that he would be revealing his crush.  The search for good gifts for someone you’re in love with who is also one of your best friends WITHOUT letting them know you love them but still the best present yields no useful results.  Michael doesn’t want to regurgitate generic “sentimental” gifts suggested in lists on various websites, he wants something that Ashton will truly appreciate.  He wants to get him something that only someone who knows him would give him.

He’s pretty sure buying presents isn’t supposed to make you want to pull out all of your hair, but Michael wants to pull out all of his hair.  The one solace is that they selected their people early, so he still has a lot of time to figure out a suitable present.

-/-

Michael mostly forgets about the stresses of Secret Santa for a while.  He has to get presents for other people, too, so he focuses on that, and decorating the house, and baking some Christmas cookies, and everything except Ashton’s present.  Unfortunately, this means that by the time Ashton hosts his yearly It’s a Wonderful Life watch party, it’s late enough that Michael should start panicking a little.

Each year, Ashton invites as many friends as can fit in his basement over to watch his favorite Christmas movie.  He used to watch it with his mom every year, and even though they live physically far apart he once told Michael that it makes him feel closer to her.  Over the years, the night has turned into an entire event.  Ashton sets up a projector and prepares more snacks than can be eaten.  Michael attends every year, even though the movie seems to get longer every time he watches it.  Last year he kept dozing off, enough so that Ashton had let him curl on the couch with his head in his lap and sleep for most of the second half.  The weight of Ashton’s hand resting on his shoulder and the occasional gentle fingers brushing over his hair are something Michael thinks about often.

This year he ends up in an armchair, Luke between his legs on the floor and Ashton all the way on the other side of the room.  It makes him focus on the movie a bit more, and during the scene where George asks what Mary wants and says he’ll lasso the moon Michael thinks yeah dude, you get it.

Unfortunately he is not George and Ashton is not Mary, and by the time he leaves his house that night, lingering late enough that Ashton offers to let him stay, he is no closer to figuring out his gift.

-/-

Michael can’t lasso the moon, but maybe he was onto something there.

He can’t stop thinking about space.  Ashton has always had an appreciation for it, but since his trip to the desert where he was finally able to see the Milky Way unobstructed he’s developed a new fascination with it.  He’s not going to be an astronomer, but he knows more about constellations than Michael does, and he knows a lot about astrology even if he doesn’t fully believe in it.

Michael has wanted to give him the universe this entire time.  Maybe instead of finding a different present, he should focus on figuring out a way to do that.

Maybe he should just get Ashton one of those model solar system kits that kids assemble for science projects.  That would be giving him the universe in a punny way that he might appreciate, but then he’ll have to explain that give you the universe was his original goal, which will still prompt questions.  Without that sentiment, it’s kind of a crummy gift.

He needs something that isn’t punny but that manages to accomplish his goal without revealing that he’s in love.  He’ll find a way to accomplish that out of sheer stubbornness if he has to.

-/-

Schedules don’t properly align for a full group Secret Santa exchange, so everyone is tasked with contacting their present recipient and setting up a time to give them their gift.  Michael sends Ashton a text that reads hey when do you want your secret santa present and gets a string of emojis in response.  Eventually he manages to wrangle a time from him and loads the present into his car.

It’s a decent gift, in his opinion.  He’s both relieved and nervous about having to give it to Ashton without the full group, because there’s significantly less people who can judge him but there’s significantly more opportunity for Ashton to ask uncomfortable questions.

The drive feels longer than it should.  That doesn’t bode well.

Michael lets himself in once he gets to the house, because there’s no telling where inside Ashton might be.  He calls his name and gets an answer in the direction of the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and getting rid of his coat before setting off towards his destination.  Ashton is sitting on the bed, scribbling something furiously in a journal.  Michael waits until he’s done and tosses the small leather book aside to fully enter the space.

“Hi,” Ashton says, beaming.

“Hi,” Michael says.  “Special delivery.”

The package in his hands is rectangular and flat, covered with shiny red and green paper.  Ashton eyes it curiously, taking it when offered and frowning at the weight.

“There’s a few parts, so be careful,” Michael says.

“I will.”

Ashton tears through the paper inelegantly, strips of it floating down to the floor, and Michael watches him read the framed certificate on top.

“I got you a star,” Michael says.  “That’s the certificate for it, and it’s under your name in a database.  There’s a star map, so you can try to find it the next time you have a clear sky.”

“Michael, this is amazing,” Ashton says, aglow with enthusiasm.  “This is so fucking cool!”

He looks at the star map, eyes tracking over the many tiny dots on it and the one circled that’s his.

“Wow.  My very own star.”

It wasn't quite the whole universe or lassoing the moon, but Michael thinks he did alright given the circumstances.

The next frame is a bit bigger, a blue background with a white star chart and lettering at the bottom that reads July 7, 1994 - a star is born.

“Tell me something, boy,” Ashton croons.  “Which one of us is Lady Gaga and which one of us is Bradley Cooper?”

“Neither of us,” Michael sighs.  He wants to facepalm.  He knew this was a risk when he put that inscription.  “Did you even watch that movie?  You want us to end up like them?”

“No,” Ashton says.

“You’re the star,” Michael says.  “It’s a map of the sky when you were born.  I thought it was a fitting caption.”

“Aw,” Ashton says.  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You don’t have to make fun,” Michael says, embarrassment flaring inside him.  This was a last-minute decision off one of those generic lists, and he’s regretting it.  Getting teased for his crush was not something he anticipated nor wanted today, especially since Ashton should know better.

“I’m not making fun,” Ashton says, tearing his eyes away from the chart to look up at Michael and frown.  “You just compared me to an actual celestial body.  That’s really fucking sweet.  The only thing sweeter would be if someone wrote me a proper love song.”

Michael could try his hand at that.

He shrugs.

“It’s almost romantic,” Ashton says.  Michael’s breath freezes in his chest.  Ashton puts the gifts down on his bed and shifts so he can face Michael fully, eyes assessing.

“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks.

Brush it off, Michael tells himself.  Laugh and call him bro and say you don’t.

There seems to be a communication delay between his mind and his body, because Michael doesn’t do any of those things.  He stands there like a deer in headlights, paralyzed the longer Ashton looks at him.

“It’s okay if you do,” Ashton says.  “I just want to know.”

Well what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?

No!

What comes out sounds more like a choking cat.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “You want to sit down?”

Again the answer is no, but that word seems to have left his vocabulary, so he sinks onto the bed next to Ashton.  He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on his forearm.

“You know, you not saying anything is making me nervous, but I’m just going to keep going.  You can tell me to stop at any time,” Ashton says.  “I like you, and I’ve been getting the impression that you like me, too.  If that’s wrong, then correct me, but if that’s right then you don’t have to be embarrassed or upset, because it’s mutual.”

Michael turns the words over in his head, giving them a second perusal to ensure he had heard correctly.

“What?”

“Oh, he speaks,” Ashton says dryly.

“I was not picking up any vibes from you,” Michael says.  “Now you expect me to believe you like me?”

“Well it’s not like I wanted you to know,” Ashton says.  “Seriously, do you think I let anyone sleep through It’s a Wonderful Life?  You got lucky last year because I like you.”

Now that he thinks about it, Ashton might have a point.  Other people who doze off get food thrown at them with the excuse that they should have stayed home if they were planning on sleeping.

“Huh,” Michael says.

“So,” Ashton says, “do you like me?  You never actually confirmed it.”

“Oh.  Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Look, I’m processing a lot right now.  I bought you a fucking star, Ashton.  Use your context clues.”

“Use my context clues?  What are you, my literature teacher?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Nice.  That was smooth.

Ashton smiles.  Just like that, the bridge Michael was standing on made of their banter melts into a gooey mess, dropping him into a bunch of sappy feelings below.  He could bask in that smile forever, shining brighter than all of the stars in the sky.

“That sounds good to me,” Ashton says.  Michael smiles shyly back, something that makes Ashton’s eyes crinkle at the edges.  He reaches out and squeezes his hand, something he’s going to be able to do freely now, and Ashton tangles their fingers together.

All things considered, Michael thinks he one-upped George Bailey here.  George said he was going to lasso the moon and then didn’t even do that.  Michael bought Ashton a whole fucking star and got his own star in return.  He’s probably the luckiest man in the universe.

[givelove-always]

I Love Him Not, I Love Him

A/N: Hi! This is my extremely late entry for @bucky-smiles​’ 2K Bollywood Writing Challenge (I’m so sorry for the delay aahhh!)! My prompt was one of my fave songs, Subhanallah from Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani, so that’s what this fic is loosely based on! Also a big thank you to @parkerpetey​ for taking the time to edit this and leave hilarious comments throughout the Google doc, ilysm for that. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: The three times you didn’t accept that you were crushing on Peter, and the one time you did.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 7.3k words

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff and reader being frustrating :)

Something everyone talked about, yet nobody really talked about, was how being the new student in the school, especially given that it was your senior year, was ridiculously tough.

You had recently moved from Toronto to Queens, and you absolutely despised it. You’d spent three extremely long years at your old school creating a name for yourself, be it through your strong academic scores or your commitment to numerous extracurriculars. You weren’t exactly popular, but were definitely spoken of quite highly if you were brought up in conversation, regardless of whether it was teachers talking or your fellow students. You were on the perfect path to becoming valedictorian of your class.

… Until you were uprooted and brought here. Sure, your dad really pulled all the strings he could to help you secure a spot at Midtown, especially given that it was senior year - it’s hard enough as is to secure a spot in freshman year, what with it being insanely competitive and for genius students and all, and while your grades were stellar, it would’ve still been close to impossible securing a spot - and you really appreciated it, but that didn’t mean that you still didn’t miss your school and your friends back in Toronto.

It felt like everyone was talking about you - who was the new girl? how did she manage to get a spot three years after everyone else? was she genuinely smart, or was there some other way she got in? - but at the same time, it felt like you were invisible. People wanted to know more about the circumstances surrounding you than know more about you as a person.

With every day that you went to school and came back home after unsuccessful attempts at restarting your social life and making friends, your morale was deflating. As much as you tried to push it aside, the pang in your chest was becoming more and more undeniable when you constantly saw people surrounded by their friends, laughing and chatting, while you sat to the side all by yourself.

Even then, it was all bearable. Just one year here, and then you could go make friends in university, where life would practically be a clean slate - a fresh start for everyone. Who knows, maybe you could even go back to Canada to a university where some of your old high school friends would be attending. You kept telling yourself that everything would work itself out, and if it had to be after a year of loneliness, then so be it.

The only thing that still felt terrible were the daily walks to and from school all alone. Back in Toronto, you and your best friend would always text each other in the morning to try and coordinate the time that you’d leave so that you could walk together, chatting each other’s ears off the entire way there. If you had time in the morning, you’d often even stop by the Tim Hortons on the way and get yourselves a little breakfast.

Here in Queens, there were tons of cute little cafés and little convenience stores and such on your way to school, and while you would still often stop by to pick up a quick snack or drink (or even just to say a quick hello to Mr. Delmar, the kind man who owned the little sandwich shop around the corner, and pet his adorable little cat), it never was the same as going with a friend. That constant loneliness started to change though when one day, you left home and arrived at Mr. Delmar’s shop earlier than usual.

one

It had been a long night with very minimal sleep. You were up working on a Physics assignment until almost five in the morning and you knew that if you slept then, you wouldn’t wake up in time for your morning classes. The extremely prominent bags under your eyes stood as proof of your exhaustion and you had no energy to make yourself breakfast, hence your early arrival at Delmar’s.

You sat at a little table by the window observing the street outside. Most people look at the way others are dressed outside as an indication of the weather. You, on the other hand, liked to think of it as more of a personification of the weather. If the chilly November weather were to be a person, they would definitely be one of those speedy walkers roaming the streets in some fuzzy boots and a trench coat.

As you sipped on your hot chocolate and tried to assign a more rounded personality to the November weather for no reason other than trying to wake yourself up, the sound of the bells chiming as someone entered the store caught your attention.

Peter Parker.

He was that really smart kid in your Physics class - the one subject you were struggling in. You knew him from that one time you guys were paired up for a quick chemistry lab, but you didn’t know him know him. You remembered vividly and appreciated how nice he was the whole time - it was difficult to find that over the last few months. Either that, or you just somehow managed to keep getting paired up with the wrong people.

You realized you were staring at him when you saw him facing and waving in your direction.

That was unusual, nobody ever really seemed to acknowledge you.

You turned to see if there was someone behind you he might have been trying to talk to, but very quickly realized that you were seated in the corner when your eyes were met with nothing but the plain white wall. ‘Stupid move,’ you told yourself. ‘How do you just forget that you’re sitting next to a wall?’

Grimacing a little, you turned back to face him and waved at him. You gave him a small smile, which he very politely returned before he went up to place his order.

‘Great, you can’t even greet a person normally. What is wrong with you Y/n? This is why people aren’t trying to befriend you right now, if-’

“Hey, do you mind if I sit down here?” a slightly timid voice interrupted. Your eyes locked with Peter’s as your head shot up.

“Oh! Um, yeah- I mean, no! I mean, no, I don’t mind, go ahead!” you stuttered, feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.

Peter let out the softest giggle you have ever heard as he sat down, and if you didn’t have such sharp hearing, you were sure you would have missed it.

“How are you? How are things going?” he asked as he set his sandwich onto the table.

“Oh, well, they’re going,” you smiled and shrugged. “This point in the semester’s always a little crazy, but it’s not the worst. How are you doing?”

“Yeah, it does get hectic around this time,” Peter sympathized, scrunching his nose slightly in an effort to show mutual distaste over the stress. “I’m not too bad, just really tired from working on that physics assignment. How’d you find that?”

“Oh my gosh, don’t ask,” you groaned, rolling your head before laying it smack against the table. “I literally cannot physics, it took me forever to complete it, and I’m still not confident about a solid chunk of it.”

Peter let out a laugh at your reaction, the sound falling like music onto your ears. You discreetly peeked up from your position on the table to look at his undoubtedly glowing face, and the image you were met with was nothing short of beautiful. His eyes were scrunched up and his perfect teeth were on full display, cheeks turning redder by the second. The sunlight falling on his brown curls gave them a softer hue and made them look even softer than you’d already imagined them to be. Nobody had ever looked this angelic.

It was a sight you wouldn’t mind getting used to.

‘Wait, what? Why did you just think that? Y/n you barely even know the guy, stop being creepy!’

You pulled yourself out of the trance and slowly sat back up, giggling lightly to avoid making it obvious that you had just been staring - that would be awkward to explain.

“I’m sure you did just fine,” Peter chuckled. “And if anything, physics isn’t my worst subject, so um, if you want, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“That’s very sweet, thank you Peter, I appreciate that more than you realize,” you smiled, picking up your backpack. “I hate to cut this conversation short, but we need to start heading to school soon if we want to get to class on time.”

“It doesn’t have to be cut short!” Peter said abruptly standing up, catching you off-guard a little. “I-I mean, we could walk together if you’d like? No pressure though, it’s totally cool if you don’t-”

“Of course, I’d love that,” you cut him off with a smile.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s head out?”

“Yeah, just hold on one quick second,” he said as he quickly rushed over to the front of the shop.

Eyebrows furrowed, you followed him, only for your expression to instantly morph into one of awe as you were met with Peter petting Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat, before he jogged back to where you were standing, a goofy smile adorning his face. “I’m ready now.”

Saying a quick goodbye to Mr. Delmar, the two of you made your way out. You shivered a little as the icy wind hit you. Peter picked up on the way you tried to discreetly rub your hands together, your outfit not doing nearly enough to cope with the sudden sharpness of the atmosphere, but stayed quiet, not knowing if it was appropriate to say something or not.

“So you’re a cat person, eh?”

“I’d say so, yeah. I’m just as much of a dog person too, though. Murph trumps all other animals though - I’ve been seeing him since Mr. Delmar got him, and he’s so adorable,” Peter gushed. “What about you, a dog person or a cat person?”

“Oh, a hundred percent a dog person, though I would make an exception for Murph, he is pretty cute,” you chuckled. “My best friend back in Canada has the sweetest little puppy named Maple and I practically lived at her house for the sole purpose of playing with him. Her uncle would drop off his two poodles occasionally too when he was travelling, and there was no way to get me out of her house when all three puppies came together.”

“Maple? That’s the most Canadian thing I’ve ever heard, I love that!” Peter physically had to stop for a minute because he was bent over letting out what could only be described as a ‘hearty laugh’.

If it were anyone else, you would most certainly be offended - what was so funny about having a pet with a stereotypical Canadian name? - but Peter exuded an aura of kindness and innocence, and despite only having spoken to him for such a short period of time, you knew his intentions were nothing but pure. Also, you had to admit, it was a little comedic how stereotypical the name was.

“Anyway, speaking of Canada,” he spoke through light chuckles once he’d calmed down a little and you both continued walking, “I don’t mean to be intrusive, and you definitely don’t have to answer if you’d rather not, but um, how come you transferred here senior year? Was it hard to get in? How did that work?”

“No no don’t worry, you’re not being intrusive at all, I don’t mind! Basically…” you started your not-so-entertaining story of how you ended up at Midtown, and no matter how many times you stopped yourself to apologize for how “boring” you were being, Peter assured you that you were anything but.

The long walk to school couldn’t have been long enough, because you were at your locker way too quick for your liking. And judging by the way Peter stayed with you as you grabbed your stuff and offered to walk you to class, he felt the same way.

You found yourself beginning to set your alarm for just a little while earlier than usual that day onwards, and morning walks together became more common as the month went on. Sure, you adored your sleep, but having a potential chance to run into Peter and walk to school with him again? It was worth it.

Despite having only briefly known him, there was a sense of comfort that you felt in his presence. He made you feel like you could share anything with him. Everytime he smiled, forget full-fledged laughed, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay for you.

To top it all off, it didn’t hurt that he was more than easy on the eyes. Those gorgeous eyes and that cute button-nose, not to mention his beautiful brown curls? You wouldn’t mind signing up for that one bit.

‘Y/n, stop. No. He’s just your friend. He’s just being nice, and you’re just happy you have a friend. You do not see him in that way - there is no chance of anything along those lines happening. You just haven’t had much interaction with people and now you’re playing up a friendship because you have nothing better to do. You do not like him.’

You reminded yourself that every time you caught yourself looking at him for even a moment more than what would be acceptable when you conversed. Peter was a great guy, but you guys were just friends, and you intended on keeping your feelings about him that way.

Besides, the reason you were down to lose some sleep wasn’t just being able to walk into school with Peter. You always had a problem with getting to school just in time to catch the bell, and this gave you an excuse to be more timely.

That’s all it was. A friendship and a way to be more punctual. Not anything more than that.

***** two

“Peter,” you clutched your stomach, loud laughter escaping you, “I’m literally going to pee myself!”

“Y/n, stop entertaining him or he won’t stop making those terrible jokes,” Ned groaned.

Peter had introduced you to his best friends Ned and MJ about three days into your friendship, once you’d gotten the remainder of your paperwork after your transfer completed and could finally sit with the rest of your classmates for lunch, and you’d all instantly clicked.

Here you were, two months later. Colourful lights shining all around you, the sound of squeals and laughter from a multitude of people constantly surrounding you, and a game to play every few steps you took - not to mention the numerous prizes waiting to be won.

Ned has suggested that the four of you go down to the arcade nearby to destress after the exhaustion of your end-of-semester exams, and you all had instantly agreed.

As much fun as you were having playing the different games and winning all those tickets with the people who had grown to be your closest friends, what was absolutely making your day was the way in which Peter would just not stop making hilarious puns and jokes.

“You’re just jealous you’re not as cool or as hot as me,” Peter playfully scoffed and made exaggerated hair-flip movements, grabbing your hand as he dragged a giggling you to the next game. “Come on Y/n, they’ll never know what it’s like to be iconic.”

“Woah Peter, what’s gotten into you today?”

“I’m just happy. I’m a happy boy. A happy boy who’s happy about being at this arcade with his wonderful friends because it’s a happy environment,” he glanced at you over his shoulder as he put in the tokens to play basketball.

You chuckled as you reached out to playfully pull his cheeks. “Well, happy boy, let’s win this thing and win it together. In case you didn’t know, my basketball skills are somewhat impeccable.”

“Y/n, you literally can’t walk five steps without tripping, it’s pretty hard to imagine you being any good at a sport that involves a lot of running,” he sassed.

“Ah, well that right there is the thing - I’m incapable of walking. When it comes to running, I’m a whole other ball game. Basketball game, to be more specific,” you spoke slowly, nodding your head wisely to emphasize your wisdom.

Peter let out a wheeze neither of you had expected, and it sent you both into a fit of laughter. When Ned and MJ made their way over to you a few seconds later, all they saw was the two of you clutching your stomachs, faces red and laughter escaping your throats as though you’d just rewatched another one of those ridiculous ‘5-Minute Crafts’ life hacks.

In the midst of the hysteria, as Peter went to slap his knee, he accidentally slammed the Start button on the game. The ever-so-jolly-yet-ominous-sounding countdown of the machine finally pulling you guys out of your bubble.

“Oh my gosh Peter stand up, it’s starting!” you exclaimed through giggles, smacking his arm repeatedly with the back of your hand to get his attention.

“Oof okay okay, let’s do this thing!” Peter rubbed his palms and cracked his neck, getting in a serious stance and grabbing the first basketball that came through the machine before tossing it straight into the hoop.

“My turn, my turn!” You shoved him with your hip playfully to make room for yourself and get a better angle to shoot.

Ned and MJ, who had been standing close behind and observing this all go down, just looked at each other, heads cocked to the side. Claps and cheers when the other one scored and purposeful bumps into each other every single time you switched, given you guys’ speed and surprising accuracy, were all they could see and hear.

“The two idiots… they really don’t see it, do they?” MJ questioned, looking between the both of you, genuinely puzzled.

Ned groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Dude, I swear I can and will cry right now if they don’t stop playing this ‘you’re just my best friend’ game, I’m so tired of it.”

“Are we gonna say anything to them to make them ‘fess up though?”

“Nah, I kinda wanna watch it play out, as much as it exasperates me,” Ned shrugged.

“Alright Petey boy, you wanna take this jackpot shot or do you want me to?” you looked over at him and asked. “No pressure buddy, but it is an extra five hundred tickets.”

“All yours, m’lady,” he curtly bowed, drawing a laugh from you.

You took your stance, legs slightly spread apart and knees bent just a little, preparing for the big shoot. You grabbed the final basketball, dribbled it on the ground twice, and tossed it, aiming straight for the hoop.

“She shoots,” Peter commentated, watching the ball leave your hands, “and… she scores!”

You let out a squeal and jumped straight into Peter’s arms, giving him the biggest hug you could possibly render. Peter caught you and spun you around, cheering and laughing all the while as the machine spewed out your tickets.

“Okay kids,” MJ called out, pulling you both out of your little moment of euphoria. “Chill for a second and pick up your tickets because I will gladly take them if you don’t want them.”

You chuckled her comment and separated from Peter before quickly walking up to grab the tickets. “Hey, Peter and I worked hard for these, back off,” you playfully pouted, hearing Peter chuckle from beside you.

“Okay okay,” Ned laughed. “MJ and I are done with our tokens, are you guys ready to call it a day and get the prizes too or..?”

“I’m ready to go, Y/n?” Peter asked.

“Yup, I’m done too, let’s go.”

You all made your way over to the corner of the arcade where you could total up your tickets and redeem them for prizes. Despite your constant refusal, Peter not only let you take the entirety of the tickets you both won from the basketball game instead of splitting them, but also gave you all the tickets he’d earned that day so that when combined with yours, you’d be able to get the adorable person-sized teddy bear you were planning on saving up for.

Ned decided to splurge on a number of small prizes, like the classic ginormous plastic sunglasses and little notepads, while MJ got herself a Rubik’s cube and a sticker that said “Caution: Falling Rocks”. Nobody knows why she picked that one in particular - she’d simply shrugged when Peter had asked her about it.

You felt bad that Peter didn’t end up getting anything, but he insisted he was totally cool with it. Something about “not having any more space for obscure things to stuff in my cupboards anyway.”

“Guys, I’m hungry,” you said, bringing the attention to you while you all headed out of the noisy arcade. “Let’s go grab a bite somewhere?”

“Ooh yes, I know this place that’s only like five minutes from here - Ned and I went there like last week. It’s-”

Thud.

Peter never really got to finish that sentence. He was walking backwards, trying to make eye contact with the three of you while relaying his expertise on the restaurants in the area, but the man-child had tripped over his own two feet and landed flat on the ground.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” you all rushed over to him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured you guys as he grabbed Ned’s hand and pulled himself up, dusting off his jeans.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you right then. “Hey Pete, what was that you said earlier about me not being able to walk five steps without tripping?”

“Hey, cut me some slack, okay. MJ’s sticker said ‘falling rocks’ and I was just testing the validity of that statement. Now, with experiential evidence, I can confirm that it is, in fact, false.”

You and Ned burst out laughing at what was probably Peter’s only good joke all afternoon. MJ rolled her eyes, but even she couldn’t stop the smile that took over her face.

You all started to head towards the restaurant Peter suggested, Ned leading the way.

“Hey Y/n?” Peter leaned over.

“Yes?”

“Did you lose an electron? Because you’re positively glowing.”

“Oy smarty-pants, make your own puns, don’t steal them from your t-shirt,” you chuckled, shaking your head. You increased your speed and walked up ahead to where Ned was walking to join him and, hopefully, prevent Peter from the bright red that overtook your features from that one little out-of-nowhere compliment.

You and Ned were joking around about the events of the day and how much fun everything was, and as much as you enjoyed Ned’s company, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander a little.

Why did Peter have such an effect on you? How was he able to make you feel so giddy - all he did was give you one punny compliment and you were blushing? How come this never happens with anybody else?

‘It’s because sometimes you just click with some people more than you do with others. Yeah, that’s what this is. That’s all it is. You just click with him slightly more than you do with the others, and so his compliment is just a little bit more meaningful in that sense,’ you rationalized.

That’s definitely all it was. A strong friendship. Not a crush - definitely not a crush.

***** three

It was the end of senior year, and you were finally in Europe for your long-awaited senior trip that the Midtown teachers had organized for your graduating class.

You’d managed to fall sick on the second day of the trip, but despite the absolute nightmare that all the nausea and headaches had been, it had luckily turned out to only be a 24-hour bug, and you’d been up and running, ready to explore the place by the next morning.

Ned and Peter shared a room while you and MJ shared another, and while the four of you would occasionally hang out in each other’s rooms when you weren’t already out and about, Peter had insisted on practically staying in your room when you were sick so he could take care of you.

You’d pushed them all out of the room to go out and have fun, or even just go sit in the other room so they wouldn’t accidentally contract whatever it was you had.

Peter, though, just would not listen - he kept taking MJ’s keycard and coming in to check up on you, making sure you were hydrated and had everything you needed. You’d woken up the morning after to a number of texts from Peter, scattered at different times throughout the night, telling you that he hoped you were feeling better and reminding you that you could call him if you needed anything, no matter how late or early it was.

You’d made it known to him the next time you saw him how much you appreciated him doing that, but also how you wished he’d have slept without worrying about you so much.

He’d only smiled in response.

Once you’d gotten better - which luckily was by the next afternoon - the four of you would spend time in one hotel room all evening. Watching movies together, having popcorn fights, or just talking, laughing and reminiscing about the year that had flown right by you.

During the day, you would all go out and explore whatever city you were in, making sure to cover all the general tourist attractions and getting tons and tons of pictures with and of each other. MJ had become your unspoken designated photographer, capturing breathtaking candids of you all whenever she got the chance.

Mr. Harrington had mandated that anybody who went out to explore or do something that wasn’t on the itinerary report back to the hotel by sunset so he could keep track of everyone, so you would always make it a point to be in your rooms by then.

Most people stayed out anyway, but not the four of you - you didn’t want to worry the poor man. He worked hard all year too, and he was kind enough to supervise this trip - the least you could all do was ensure that you weren’t burdening him with any added stress.

Occasionally, you would end up getting back to the hotel earlier than others in your group. Sometimes, MJ would want to wander by herself, and Ned would try to approach and converse with Betty, who he found really cute.

Times like that, you and Peter would be the only ones in your respective rooms. The very first time that happened, you both very quickly realized that if you were in that situation, boredom would usually follow very soon.

So the next time onwards, even if none of the others were there, you and Peter would just hang out together in one of your rooms. It didn’t really matter what you were doing - just being in each other’s presence made things fun.

It was guaranteed, though, that obscure things would always happen when it was just the two of you left unsupervised. One time, Ned walked into his and Peter’s shared room only to find you and Peter in the midst of a very soulful rendition of A Whole New World from Aladdin - complete with exaggerated dance moves and hairbrush-microphones. Another time, MJ returned from her walk to a nearby park to you and Peter indulged in a heated discussion about whether pop tarts should be considered a sandwich or ravioli.

The four of you would often stay up until odd hours talking about anything and everything. The later it got, the deeper your topics of conversation would get. They would go from sharing nostalgic memories from your childhoods to passionate conversations about how many pets one could get before they’d be considered too many.

One of those days, when you had a one hundred percent free day because the event on your itinerary got cancelled, MJ and Peter decided they wanted to go visit a museum. Ned brought up that he wanted to go shopping around the city instead, and since you were planning the same, the two of you went out together.

You and Ned decided to hop onto one of those red double-decker buses, because if you’re a tourist in London and don’t get on one of those buses even once, are you really a tourist in London? Since neither of you had anything specific you wanted to shop for or any specific place in mind, you decided to take a random bus and get off wherever you felt would be worth it.

After about fifteen minutes of looking around at the hustling streets, you finally passed through an area that seemed to be filled with a variety of stores, making it the perfect place for some obscure shopping.

You both walked around, entering random stores whenever something in the display caught your eyes and buying random articles of clothing. At one point, you found a really cool thrift store and decided to style each other - the results being surprisingly more wonderful than either of you had expected. You both did an impromptu ramp walk for each other, filling the trial rooms with the sounds of laughter and giggles.

As the evening started to set in and the gorgeous colours started to take over the blue sky, you decided that you should start heading back to the hotel soon. It wasn’t too far from where you were though, considering the fact that a quick fifteen-minute ride would get you back, so you two did have time to stop by one or two more stores quickly if you wanted to.

As you strolled around, looking at the displays to see if there was something you might like, a pretty off-white floral sundress caught your attention. “Ned, can we go in here? I want to try this dress on!” you said as you tapped him excitedly on his shoulder.

He agreed, and as soon as you found the dress and tried it on, you absolutely fell in love with it. It was just the right length for your preference, and fit your body just right. In fact, it would even go perfectly with the adorable cross-body bag you’d picked up earlier in the day. You didn’t have to think twice before heading to the cash register to buy it and officially make it yours.

“Today burned a hole in my pockets, but it was so much fun Y/n, thanks for coming with me,” Ned said as you both got seated on the bus.

“Hey, of course! I had so much fun too! It was so refreshing to, thank you for letting me try on eight thousand different things,” you grinned.

The two of you continued conversing and joking around as the bus slowed down at a stop to let passengers on and off.

“Man, as great as museums are, nothing beats the joy one gets from mindlessly shopping - those two definitely missed out on some hilarious jokes and the best fashion show of the century,” you chuckled, making a reference to your antics back at the thrift store.

Ned laughed, shaking his head.

You relaxed in your seats, just letting the feeling of the wind flowing through your hair encompass you. The slight coolness of the evening breeze was euphoric yet also grounding in a sense, and you wanted to let it consume you for as long as possible.

“Y/n, can I ask you a question?” Ned softly broke the silence.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You like him, don’t you?” he smirked.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Like who?”

“Come on, don’t act so oblivious,” Ned laughed. “Peter - you like him, right?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s one of my best friends, so I definitely do like him?” You were genuinely confused at this point.

“No Y/n, I mean like like. Like as in more than a friend,” he clarified.

You froze for a split second and the heat rushed quickly to your face for reasons unknown to you. Almost too quickly, you responded, “What? No! Why would you think that?”

Ned rubbed his face, groaning. “Y/n, why are you both so ridiculously oblivious?” He had no clue how both you and Peter, two people so hopelessly crushing on each other, couldn’t see it.

“Wait, what do you mean?” you questioned.

Ned couldn’t stop the knowing smirk that overtook his features at the quizzical look on your face. He wanted to see two of his best friends happy together, but he needed you both to figure out your feelings for each other because it would be unfair of him and MJ to try and get you both together before that happened.

In this moment though, the utter cluelessness in your eyes was absolutely comedic to him.

“Oh, would you look at that, it’s our stop!” he quickly picked up his bags and walked off the bus, leaving a very perplexed you to follow him.

You pestered him to explain what he meant by that the entire way up to your respective rooms, but he wouldn’t do anything but grin. Your split-second panic and silence, combined with the redness of your cheeks as soon as he’d asked you about Peter was confirmation enough for him. He’d lit the spark, the questioning, inside of you, and that was all he felt was appropriate for now. Now, you needed to let it grow into a full flame and come to terms with your feelings.

“Bye Y/n! I’ll see you in a little bit!” he waved at you as he quickly slipped behind his door.

You groaned, stomping back to your room. You tossed your bags to the side and flopped right onto the bed.

‘Why was Ned asking me that? What did he mean by saying Peter and I are ‘oblivious??’ And why did I panic? Is there a chance that I- No, don’t finish that thought. Y/n, Peter’s just your best friend - feelings involved make things messy. You know what though? You don’t have to worry about that, it’s fine, because you don’t have feelings for him anyway. It’s all good. You’re just best friends, it’s nothing more than that, for sure.’

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, and rationalizing whatever supposed “feelings” you had for Peter until you heard MJ swipe her keycard. In walked both Peter and MJ, and you watched as his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you.

You felt your lips curve upwards into a smile, and before you could even realize that your body was moving, you had both engulfed each other in a massive hug.

That was normal though, right? You would hug MJ right after that too - you always hugged your friends. That didn’t mean anything.

Ned was probably just fooling around. Yeah, that’s probably what it was. One of his extended pranks. That explanation made sense.

Either way, you know what your feelings for Peter are: platonic. Absolutely, positively not anything other than that.

***** one

The day you’d been dreading was finally here: the end of your senior trip.

You were in your hotel room, zipping up your suitcase and making sure you had packed all of your belongings.

“I guess this is it, huh?” you squeaked out.

Hotel rooms had become your home for the last almost two months. They were where you and three of the closest people in your life right now spent so much time together, laughing, crying, just enjoying each other’s presence. Now, you were being made to say goodbye to that, and it was too soon for your liking.

“It is, yeah,” MJ gave you a small smile. “Don’t be upset about it though, we’ll all still be together and go out all the time once we’re back.”

“I know, I just…” you sighed. “I just liked this whole ‘no-other-responsibilities-to-tend-to’ version of going out. Time really does fly when you’re having fun.”

MJ placed the last of her clothes in her suitcase and zipped it up. “Well, at least it was fun while it lasted, right?”

You nodded. It was fun while it lasted. Was it insanely tiring walking around every single day because there was always so much to do? One hundred percent. Was your sleep schedule messed up from staying up late hanging out with your friends and waking up early to go grab breakfast and get ready for the day? More than ever before. Would you trade the experience for anything else in the world? Absolutely not.

You did one final sweep of the room to make sure you’d grabbed everything you’d brought in. “Ready to go?” you asked as you placed your suitcase upright on the ground.

“Yup, let’s head downstairs before the bus leaves,” MJ chuckled, shaking her head. “I am so ready to sleep in my own bed again.”

You laughed and grabbed your keycards. MJ placed the remote back on the TV stand and wheeled her luggage out the door and you followed suit, pulling the door shut behind you. Once you double-checked that the door had been locked properly, the two of you headed down to the lobby, where you were supposed to meet the rest of your classmates.

Dropping the keycards off at the front desk, you made your way over to where you could see most of your cohort already gathered.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Mr. Harrington checked your names off his list. “The only ones left now are Flash and Brad. They’d better come down soon, wouldn’t want to- ah! There they are!” he marched over to where the two boys were.

“Wow, I don’t think I have ever seen him look that relieved. Is it just me or did he get taller?” you heard a voice approaching you.

Peter.

There he was, walking towards you, wearing that blue checkered shirt that looked oh-so-good on him. Something about him today hit you differently. You couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was, but it was safe to say that you felt your heart skip a beat at how amazing he looked.

“As much as I hate to say it, I agree with you,” MJ joked. “Crazy what lifting some weight off your shoulders can do for you.”

“Crazy how quickly this whole trip is already over,” Ned spoke. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go home yet.”

“Oh hush, just last night you were on the phone telling Betty that you couldn’t wait to take her to the movies once we’re all back in Queens,” Peter quipped, effectively making Ned blush and all of you laugh.

The aura of the lobby was very mixed. On one hand, the atmosphere felt lively as people chatted with their friends about all the fun times they had over the last few weeks, about the constant highs they all felt. On the other hand, there was a certain longing in most people’s eyes, a willingness to hold on to this feeling for just a little longer.

It was a very bittersweet vibe, and very understandably so.

“Alright guys, um- hey, can I get your attention for just a minute please?” Mr. Harrington squeaked. He raised his arms up to try and grab everyone’s attention, and to his own surprise, it worked.

“So, basically, I just wanted to say thank you to every single one of you for attending this trip, and I hope that it was a great experience for you all. Our bus should be here shortly, but before we go, I was hoping to get one quick picture with the entire group, if that’s okay?” After confirming that nobody had an issue with it, he handed his camera over to one of the staff members from the reception desk, who quickly snapped a wonderful picture of you all.

He thanked her, and then went outside to check for the bus.

“Looks like there’s still some more time before we leave,” you stated, peeking out through the glass windows and noticing the absence of a bus.

“Judging by the way Mr. Harrington’s seeming frustrated, I’d say you’re probably right,” Peter chuckled. “Hey, let’s get some pictures of our own in the meantime, I still have some film left on my camera!”

You, Ned and MJ agreed, and Peter pulled out his camera from his carry-bag. You all took turns posing with each other, starting off with simple smiles, but progressively getting goofier and sillier until you’ve hit the point where you were just standing in the middle of the lobby recreating iconic memes, sending you all into fits of laughter.

“Okay, okay, enough of this,” Peter giggles, still coming down from moments ago when he was guffawing at your attempt to recreate that one young Cardi B picture. “Let’s get some group shots now.”

MJ quickly asked Yasmin, another one of your classmates, if she’d be okay with getting a few shots of them and explained to her how to work the camera.

You went to grab a sip of water and stood off to the side, letting the three have their moment. They’d been there for each other for four years, and while you were all close now, you’d only come into the picture recently. You wanted to let the squad - the original squad - get some pictures too, you’d been in enough with them already, it was okay.

Ned said something which you couldn’t hear, but it drew out undoubtedly heartfelt laughs from the other two. Eyes scrunched and faces radiating with nothing but joy, Yasmin saw this as a perfect moment to capture, and you saw her take what you were sure would have turned out to be an amazing candid.

Yasmin went to hand the camera back to MJ, but Peter quickly stopped her.

“Hold on one second please, would it be okay if you got just one last picture? With the whole group?”

She nodded, stepping back.

“Y/n! Why are you off to the side?” Peter rushed over to you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Come on, we can’t take a full group photo without you in it!”

In that very moment, as Peter grabbed your hand and gently pulled you to where the rest of the group was standing, something in your mind clicked. You laughed as Peter abruptly stopped and you bumped into him, hearing the click of the camera go off. None of it seemed to matter though. All you could see was Peter smiling back down at you, the crinkles by his eyes more defined than ever, but also surprisingly more beautiful than ever.

You could sense the three people around you continuing to throw up more poses quickly, Yasmin capturing them, but the entire while, your eyes wouldn’t leave Peter’s grinning face, your mind slowly stopped registering anything other than the feeling of Peter’s arms around your shoulders. The pure warmth he radiated pulled you in further, and everything around you except his perfect smile blurred.

One thing became very clear in that moment of complete encapsulation though, despite it being a completely foreign feeling to you, as the same words played in your head, over and over.

‘Holy crap, I think I’m in love with my best friend.’

If only you knew, those were the exact same words racing through Peter’s mind.

[strongerwiththepack]

I got heat stroke and interaction room and can I have Gordon?

From the Whump Generator. After googling ‘interaction room’ with very little success I had a look at the generator and assumed you actually meant ‘interrogation room’ haha thank-you for the prompt, hope you enjoy x

Gordon & Heatstroke & Interrogation Room

It had been a few months since their dad had returned and, after some hurdles, they were finally settling into the new family dynamic. Scott was going over some Tracy Industries reports with him at the moment. His dad was working towards taking back a more active role in the company so Scott could focus more on his commander role for International Rescue.

It was going to take some time before Scott could fully step back though. Their father had missed 8 years of business growth and technological advancements. He was also earning back trust from the board due to health concerns. They didn’t need to worry, his dad was pushing through physical therapy at an impressive speed. It ran in the family apparently.

His dad was ready to get back in the game and Scott would make sure he was prepared. He was surprised as he felt himself yawning unexpectedly. It had been a long day. He’d had a rescue in the early hours of the morning and gotten back just in time for lunch then spent the afternoon doing paperwork with his father.

The sun was now setting on the beachfront and the sounds of the piano filled the lounge as Virgil played softly in the background. He was tired, but it was more of a content tired opposed to the bone-weary tired he’d often felt before the Zero-XL. He stood up straight to stretch out his back as his father sent away the last report they had written.

And then the piano music stopped abruptly.

“Gordon?” Virgil queried.

And sure enough Gordon was hurriedly making his way in from the pool deck. He froze at his name but kept his back turned to them.

“Yeah?” His brother answered, still not turning his head. Scott narrowed his eyes, Gordon was definitely up to something. He shared a knowing look with Virgil as their father also stopped what he was doing.

Before he could say anything though, Alan bounded over from his position in the den, with his handheld games console.

“Where’ve you been all day?” The smaller blonde whined. “Check this out, I beat your high score on Zombie Bashers.” He thrust the console in Gordon’s face. “Told you I could-wow what’s wrong with your face?”

“Something you want to tell us Gordon?” Scott asked at Alan’s remark.

His mischievous brother pivoted slowly and Scott squinted in the rapidly diminishing light of the sunset. Gordon was wearing a cap and keeping his head bowed which conveniently hid his face.

“Nope, don’t think so Scott. Just gonna head up and get changed before dinner.”

His brother pointed down the corridor before spinning quickly in that direction and trying to sidestep Alan. Then he stumbled, falling onto one knee and holding a hand to his head with a hiss of pain.

Scott was stunned for a second as his father abruptly stood up from the desk, his chair screeching behind him as he did so. He could see Alan panicking as he stood over his brother, looking towards Scott to tell him what to do.

“Gordon!” Scott snapped out of it in time to run over. “What’s wrong?”

“Urgh-I’m fine, I’m fine.” Gordon stated as he got close, quickly pushing himself off the ground. As soon as he did so though he wobbled again, crashing into the wall with a thud.

Scott could see what was going to happen seconds before it did. He was too far away.

“Alan!” He yelled. “Catch him!”

His littlest brother startled for a second and then Gordon was falling. Alan’s reflexes clicked in as soon as he caught the movement. He frantically grabbed his older brother around the waist but it was the wrong angle and Gordon’s momentum pulled Alan down with him. Scott winced as Gordon’s head cracked off the linoleum, Alan only managing to slightly slow the fall.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Alan whispered frantically as he hands hovered over his usual partner in crime who was frighteningly still.

Scott slid down next to them, gently pushing his littlest brother to the side as he checked Gordon over. He could hear his father reassuring Alan in the background and was grateful that wasn’t something he needed to worry about right now. Virgil ran past them, Scott hoped he was getting a stretcher.

Gordon’s hat had fallen off in the fall and Scott could now see the redness of his skin. It was irritated and peeling in some places.

“Is he alright?” His dad questioned behind him, a slight shake to his voice. After 8 years without his sons, Jeff couldn’t quite stomach the injuries anymore. That’s why he was focusing on Tracy Industries and not International Rescue. Scott couldn’t blame him, it never got easier.

“Heatstroke I’m guessing.” Scott reported, pulling his brother into the recovery position. “We’ll get a scan in the medbay.”

Virgil returned with a stretcher and between the four of them, Gordon was lifted effortlessly onto it. Brains was waiting for them as they entered the medical bay.

“Oh m-my” The engineer stuttered as he took out his scanner. The sunburn did look a lot worse in the harsh light of the room. Alan curled up on a chair in the corner as they worked. Scott made a mental note to talk to him later.

His focus was Gordon right now.

*

Gordon squinted in the harsh light and hissed as the movement pulled at the tight skin on his face. He was burning and he reflexively kicked at the sheets that covered him.

“Son?” He heard a gentle query as his head turned towards the voice and opened his eyes properly. The world was spinning but he made out the concerned face of his father. He was so dead.

Gordon blinked again before the nausea overtook him and bile made it’s way to his throat.

“Sick.” He chocked out and then there were hands pulling him into a sitting position and a bucket thrust under his head. He wretched pathetically as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the basin. Someone was rubbing his back soothingly and Gordon turned to see Virgil on his other side and Scott standing at the end of the bed. Yep, he was so dead.

He rested his head on the bucket and groaned.

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, young man.” His father commanded gently.

“Uhhh” Gordon whined. “I was an idiot and got sunburnt?”

“A little sunburn doesn’t cause you to collapse and traumatise your little brother Gordon.” Scott deadpanned. “You have severe heatstroke, what the hell were you doing?”

Guilt spiked in his chest at the accusation. He’d need to make it up to Alan somehow. Virgil helped him lay back down as he pulled the bucket away.

Gordon placed his arms over his face and groaned. “Can we save the interrogation for later Scott?”

“No.” His brother replied. Where was the sympathy?

“I found a bale of sea turtles caught in some nets just off the shore, okay?” Gordon moaned. “I wasn’t planning on being out as long as I was.”

“Something tells me you weren’t wearing this hat on the water either?” Virgil added waving the cap that had fallen off his head when he fell.

Gordon narrowed his eyes at his brother. No solidarity between co-pilots anymore apparently.

“How long were you out in the water?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know, I left after lunch till whenever I came back in?”

“That was five hours Gordon.” Their dad startled.

Gordon shrugged. “I didn’t really notice, I’ve done longer.”

“Not without any of us knowing Gordon.” Scott reprimanded. “What if you had passed out in the water? None of us even knew you were out there.”

Gordon looked around at the three-stern faces peering down at him.

“I’m sorry okay?”

“No, it’s not okay Gordon.” Scott rebutted.

Gordon didn’t know if it was the heatstroke, the concussion or the guilt he was feeling for worrying his family but he felt his eyes start to water suddenly. He avoided anyone’s gaze a he blinked rapidly to clear his eyes.

A hand landed on his shoulder and his fathers voice rumbled. “Gordon’s had a long day Scott, why don’t we get back to this after he’s had a chance to rest.”

“Yeah, okay” Scott conceded. “Feel better kiddo.” He said gently as he squeezed one of Gordon’s feet. Virgil got up too, squeezing his hand and giving him a reassuring look before he and Scott left the room.

Gordon peered up at his dad who was looking at him with worry still etched into his face. That was not an expression he ever wanted to cause.

He sighed. “Sorry dad, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His father gave a tight smile. “Just get some rest Gordon.”

fin.

[4dtk]

Yellow

Pairing: Blind!Jaemin x Florist!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humour (a teeny bit) / Soulmate!AU where you see colours when you meet eyes with your soulmate

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident, (might be) inaccurate depictions of corneal blindness although I googled

Word Count: 5k

A/N: This work is fictional and I do not wish for any of the incidents here to happen to the boys in real life. If you are uncomfortable with reading this, please don’t hesitate to scroll past! This is a little longer and different than what I usually write too, so I hope it’s okay! I realise I didn’t really utilise the reader as a florist that much either, so apologies for that! I made a playlist for this fic too, it can be found here.

Jaemin was confused, for himself, for his soulmate, for his parents. He didn’t expect any of it when the blood runs from his head and nose, when he hears the distant wailing of an ambulance and smells the pungent odour of smoke rising from the crashed vehicle.

His eyes felt blocked but weighed light at the same time, like a fluid that’s been spread over his pupils like ointment.

Jaemin’s body lay motionless while the male attempts to peek around the accident, observing the bent metal near his injured leg and the airbag supporting his manager’s limp body.

Was he dead? It was nerve-wrecking, even when he wasn’t the one leaning over the white inflatable object; weirdly, his heart felt heavy when he noticed no movement from the man who took care of him since day one.

The man who checked on Jaemin when he’d fall down from riding the hoverboard too fast or when he pulled a nerve doing the ‘Boom’ choreography—his manager who’s there to tell him to wear his cap tightly over his head before going live with Haechan and Renjun.

It was something he remembered when he felt paramedics lift his body up onto a stretcher, recalling on when they’d laugh about it when the live ended.

Jaemin was told to regulate his breathing in the ambulance, having no choice to hope that his manager is in good hands as he follows the paramedic on duty.

He had no strength to even ask if the other was doing okay, unable to get the sight of blood staining and tainting the airbag, out of his mind.

He doesn’t think much of it, perhaps even enjoying the light feeling in his lungs and the pain in his leg reaching the maximum that his nerves turn numb.

When he hears and feels the rush of the hospital staff, however, Jaemin realises it might be worse than it actually is.

There’s a faint shout of a doctor to a nurse, and he loses all grip on his senses after, succumbing to the metallic, disinfectant smell of the hospital which he hasn’t inhaled since the start of his year-long hiatus.

“Damn, My First and Last sounds so good, hyung!” Jaemin gushes over the FaceTime with Mark, the older offering a small smile and a story that happened when they were filming the music video. It was unfortunate that Jaemin had injured his spine so close to the comeback date, but could anyone blame him for how hard he worked?

Jeno promised to show him the move he was practicing before getting the peculiar feeling in his spine and the youngest ensured that they’ll try the ‘pulling’ move on the floor where they grabbed each other’s feet.

Jaemin could feel their love, even now, as he hears Renjun’s reaction and Jeno’s voice booming over the phone. There’s a fuss over the line before it goes dead, mind drifting off as his head begins to hurt more and the feeling in his leg starts to come back.

With a team of surgeons now preparing for their new patient, Jaemin struggles to hold on to the nurse’s hand, urgency thick in the air until his ears is met with an unfamiliar voice. He lets the doctor talk to him, placing his bets on his deteriorating senses.

The members scramble to grab their things, moments of scurrying and ducking under the other’s arms, passing their manager whatever Jaemin may need in the hospital, showing their natural teamwork even off stage.

All of them pile into the car, tension lingering between the members, no one brave enough to address the elephant in the room as Jisung struggles to hold in his tears. Collectively, they worry about their member on the way to the hospital, supporting each other silently as they always have since debut.

Jeno shoots a quick text to Doyoung, informing him of the situation and the 127 members are rushing, now, as well.

“A few. Only a few of us should go.”

“Why?” Doyoung shoots back at Taeyong. As much as the leader ached to tag along, there was the current pandemic going on. The government encouraged their people to stay home unless necessary, but the youngest couldn’t let his friend suffer alone.

Haechan cuts in with a sharp tone, voice wavering just a little. “I’ll go. Let me go, hyung, please.”

Taeyong gives a shaky nod, head dipping and eyes focusing on the floor as Doyoung and Haechan leave the dorm, but not before dragging Mark who was glued to the floor at the news.

Kun’s concerned texts distract Doyoung from the problem at hand momentarily, though the oldest still grapples with the terrifying scenarios playing in his mind, laying either hand on the two trembling members.

As both groups make their way to the hospital, Jaemin remains unconscious from anaesthesia, not knowing of the panic across NCT as a whole. The chaos everyone felt contrasted with his feeling of peace on the operating table, mind drifting to thoughts of meeting his soulmate.

The thoughts of seeing colour seep into his life as he found the person of his dreams. The background would fade around them as he focused only on them, the wide smile they would don as the emerging colours added to the moment.

Jaemin’s confusion surged to an all time high when he had gained consciousness with a blur to his vision. It was glitched and unusual, the familiar black and white fading in and out.

All he could concentrate on was his soulmate. What were they doing? Did they know he’d been hurt so badly? What if he couldn’t find ‘The One’?

The questions swirled his head with the seconds ticking by, black and white fading to just black for a moment before bouncing back to the greyscale colour palette.

Within the next minute, or what felt like one, Jaemin was in his ward, the members awaiting any news from the doctor. As he makes his way out of the operating room after clean-up, he retracts from the amount of people staring back at him with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll talk to one of you. Ensure safe distancing, boys.” Chenle looks to his hyung, Renjun, who just sighs and rolls his eyes, taking a seat to calm his nerves as Doyoung stepped up to talk to the doctor.

The doctor takes a big gulp before speaking, prompting the oldest’s eyes to snap down to his name tag on his stark white coat.

Dr. Na. What a coincidence he’d have the same surname as Jaemin.

“I’m… afraid the car crash might’ve done a number on his head. There’s-“

The familiar rush of sirens causes the doctor cut his sentence short, though it catches Doyoung by surprise at how loud the sirens appeared to be.

“Mr. Na suffered a blow to the brain which controls his vision. The force of the crash punctured his retina and when theres a tear present, fluid can pass through, spreading between the retina and the eye’s back wall.”

Doyoung is quick to ask a question, but retracts at the hand of the doctor, watching how he removes the skin-tight gloves with caution.

“It’s… lucky that we got him here on time, but because he fell on his right, the retina might have detached faster than we expected; the left, not so much. If the rush to the hospital was a little slower, there might have been more damage to both his eyes.”

The other’s breath stops at this.

The doctor senses the shock residing in Doyoung’s body, escaping through his facial expression in short breaths.

“The other surgeons are getting him into a stable state, currently. I’m in their team and is just here to convey his condition—the main doctor who will take over his case will be the one talking to you later.”

“As lucky as Mr. Na is to have lived, you should let the boy rest for now. When he does wake up, notify one of the nurses. They might have to guide him through words as we are unsure of the state of his vision.”

Doyoung swallows the inquiring questions he had on the tip of his tongue, nodding along to the instructions before seeing the other’s figure disappear into the ward. A nurse emerges from the operating room with something in hand, following the doctor into the ward with the object.

“Jaemin’s in stable condition.” Doyoung mutters quietly, hopefully loud enough for the others to hear since he wasn’t looking forward to the next thing.

“But…?” Haechan stepped forward, seeking answers and clutching onto the other’s arm. Doyoung didn’t seem to mind, even when the squeeze was starting to hurt.

“The doctors are unsure of how his vision will turn out; there’s a possibility he-“ The silence broke when Jisung sinks into Jeno’s side, body shaking with quiet sobs. The older comforts him while Doyoung still struggles to get the next words out.

“What is it, hyung? Say it out, please!” His heart broke, seeing the younger one be like this. Haechan was always cheerful when he was in the dorm, clinging onto Taeil while annoying the hell out of the Doyoung. It was in their nature to bicker, but when he was begging right in front of him for the news of his friend, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Mr. Na is stable. Come in with caution, please.” Doyoung felt selfish as he thanked the interruption, not wanting to be the person to break the news.

The boys enter quietly, not wanting to startle Jaemin, if he was even awake.

They watch the bed Jaemin was on without words, some staring off into space while Doyoung observes the steady breathing of the boy. It was calming to see him at least cleaned of the blood, the images circling the internet plaguing Doyoung’s mind.

He was sure the fans were already informed of the accident. Lost and adrift, Doyoung hopes he can address and reassure them about the incident soon, placing his hopes that Jaemin was well even if he hasn’t woken up.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“Don’t forget to bring in the roses, we went a week without them and I don’t think I can deal with any more fussy customers.”

Being a florist while you haven’t found your soulmate was hard. You found it especially hard when you needed to arrange flowers for banquets and customers—there were colours you hadn’t learned to see and wondered if they matched each other when you started out on arranging.

You’ve learnt that there can be a handful of colour combinations, thankful for your mother who was patient enough to tell you the colour of each flower you pointed out.

“When do you think I’ll find him? Or her?”

Your mother shrugs as she snipped off the stem of a flower, throwing it away before washing her hands.

“Could be any time soon.” She whispers, inspecting the daisy she had in a hand, the yellow in the middle standing out.

Whilst she could enjoy the colours of the vibrant shop, you were still stumbling over various flowers that looked the same. Without the labels on the boxes, you might’ve had more trouble than you already had.

“You really think so?”

Your mother nods with a smile, handing you the daisy in her hand. “You’ll be asking me about colours very soon, I’m positive.”

There’s a small smile on your face at her answer, walking around the shop to check on the flowers as the crowd had died down.

You first discovered what your mother did for a living when you stumbled down from upstairs with a flu, finding hard to rest when the shop downstairs was so noisy.

It was a day before the fourteenth in February, not understanding why the place was full of schoolgirls (and boys). There were a few other older patrons, who struggled to keep their cool in the disoriented mess of the area.

Your mother handled it like a champ, with your dad occasionally coming out to help. Other than that, he’d stay out back, cleaning the flowers and making sure they look presentable.

The shipments were hours late—usually they would arrive at night the day before, so your parents could take care of the flowers before the shop opened at 9am the next day.

Black and white was something you were used to at seven years old. You assumed the world worked that way, though you don’t miss the way your mother would always ask if there was anything you were curious about.

“Dad? Do you need any help?”

He shoots a small smile, messing up your bed hair even further. “No, it’s okay. Go upstairs and rest, I’m sorry that the shop is so noisy. That’s why you came down, isn’t it?”

You nod your head, peeking around to see your mom scurrying from the cash register to the customers, her feet never resting from the busy crowd outside shooting flowers and colours, left and right.

Asters, Orchids, Bellflowers, Poppies were flowers at the top of your head when your mom asked you about the flowers you knew, but those other words the customers had shouted out still felt unfamiliar on your tongue.

“Ye-llow…?” You mumbled, looking up at your mother one weekend at twelve years old.

“Yeah, just like that. I’ve drawn suns with a yellow crayon. There are bananas and taxis as well. Do you remember sunflowers?”

“The TV show or the flower?”

Your mother grins at that, “the flower.” You nod enthusiastically, cleaning up the papers and stationary you used for your homework.

“Sunflowers are yellow, too.” A large flower comes into view, with pointy petals and a fuzzy middle.

To you, it seemed like a boring painting of black and white, but the way your mom described it made it seem like it was the most beautiful thing (“After roses, of course,” she’d say.)

“Yellow is the colour of warmth and positivity. It can feel like two different things, a comforting hug and… a laugh, perhaps.”

Your head tilted as she continued to explain the colour, giving you an exaggerated shrug when she reached the extremes of her explanation.

“It’s hard to explain colours, hun. I’ll try my best, but the feeling when you experience it for yourself? Wow. I hope you’ll have that feeling in years to come.”

And so, at twenty years old, you were going to, soon, but not in the way you expected it to go.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“You want me to what?” You ask through the phone, annoyed enough that you’ve already been interrupted from your university project.

It was vexing enough that this person had to call your personal phone, possibly finding it on the website of your mother’s shop.

She claimed that it was only ‘integrity and generosity’ that she put everyone’s numbers since the shop (and the shop’s phone line) was closed on Sundays except for patrons picking up their orders.

“Remember that dark-haired boy who came to collect the flowers from you last weekend?” Racking your brain for any memory of the boy, you struggle to match the description to a face as the person on the the end brushes it off and continues.

Your eyes soften and your features fall, however, when he speaks in a quiet voice.

“Our friend, he’s- he’s in the hospital. The flowers were meant for him… he loves it by the way. He likes the way the flowers feel on his skin, as weird as it sounds.” The male laughs quietly at the memory, getting back to the reason of why he contacted you.

“He wants to meet you.” he says quietly, not knowing what reaction to expect.

“But why?”

“He says he’s annoyed of hearing his member’s voices all day, quote unquote,” he jokes at another memory, “no, but, he wants to meet whoever did the bouquet. He wants to thank you personally, I’m assuming. Not sure why he waited a week to tell me this though…”

“Oh, okay, when?”

“Now?” He says timidly, bracing himself for an incoming argument due to the last minute news.

“He’s not creepy or anything, right?”

“Jaemin? No, definitely not. Just a little loud and outgoing—I’m not sure how he’s doing now considering his- state, though so uhh…”

Jaemin, huh? Why did it sound so familiar yet foreign?

“And- and, the same boy from last week will be picking you up so don’t worry about it.”

“This sounds like straight up kidnapping.” You whisper into the receiver, getting a buzz from your phone right after.

“What did you send me?” You asked cautiously, finger hovering over the chat as the green bar the top of your phone glared back at you, signalling that the call was on speaker.

His voice came through the speaker, reassuring you that it was not a picture of his privates. You gulped anxiously. With the amount stories online, you’d know better than to open a chat from a man who you didn’t know.

You did it anyway out of curiosity.

Cracking an eye open was a relief, seeing that the picture was only a selfie of the dark-haired boy and probably the person on the other end of the line.

“He looks like this! Ring any bells?” He asks just as the door swings open from a customer.

Holding up a hand, you politely ask the newcomer to wait as you squint your eyes at the boy in the picture who supposedly came here to collect the bouquet.

Double takes help, because the person who matched the picture was standing in front of you, separated by the counter.

“Oh… I didn’t think you’d come so soon.”

Another ding! interrupts your surprise, looking back at the chat as the photo loaded.

“Here’s another of Jaemin with the flowers, though his face isn’t in it—he insists he looks bad in the hospital gown which I agree on.”

You can sense the other rolling his eyes, wondering if the conversation was going to end.

“You’re overwhelming the girl, Hyuck, just hang up.” His voice is gentle but stern, putting his hands together in an apology after the other hangs up with an irritated “okay fine!”

“I’m sorry for him, he can be a little annoying at times.”

“I heard that!” The other fires back, though you swore you heard the beep; maybe you heard wrong.

“Donghyuck!”

“Okay, I’m going! Sheesh.”

The boy looks at you with watchful eyes, wondering how’d you react to this whole situation.

“You can’t see colour, yet, can you?” He asks suddenly.

“Wh- are you doubting my arranging skills?”

“Wait! Wait no- I’m just asking… and yes, the flowers might have been a little mismatched- but it was fine! It’s fine—I don’t think Jaemin minds.” He saves himself, two hands outstretched in surrender.

“Why doesn’t he?” You ask curiously, head tilting to the side as you lock up the register.

Your question remains unanswered, however, as his eyes trail from your face to the flowers behind you. He seemed nervous to answer that one question.

Shaking your head, you mutter a ‘never mind’ and head upstairs to grab your things and change into a more presentable outfit.

The ride was smooth, with a small exchange of what to expect at the hospital. You learn that his name is Jeno, making note of the black hair and the little mole beside his right eye, as well as his polite smile which made you feel at ease.

“Jaemin’s sweet, he’ll talk to you like you aren’t a stranger, so you don’t have to worry about being awkward.”

“He’s funny too, always making weird noises and stuff like that. Don’t mention that I’m saying all these though, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laugh at that last part, because you definitely don’t want your friends to know how fondly you speak of them when they’re absent.

When you arrive, however, you can feel your hands becoming clammy and damp, the keychain on your bag having suffered enough from your fidgeting fingers.

He’s someone I don’t know, why is it making me jumpy and jittery?

The antiseptic smell of the hospital did nothing for you, wringing your hands together and hoping it’d calm your heart down.

“She’s here, Jaemin.”

The male on the bed breaks conversation, turning to you and pointed to the flowers on the bedside table excitedly. He’s not exactly facing the door… though.

Oh.

They flow in like a rush of adrenaline, with the feeling of dizziness when you stand up too fast.

They emerge in small spots and then spread out to every inch of the room and although you’re in room with four white walls, your eyes immediately drift to the flowers you arranged for the boy and back to him.

His hair is a bright pink, I think, and his smile is brighter than the sun. His eyes look like the colourless crescent at night and he makes me feel like the colour yellow.

You recall your mom describing yellow as a warm, positive colour, her words ringing true.

Purples and blues on the other boys’ clothing, as well as a bright orange on one’s head. There was a lovely lime green cardigan on Jeno and a red flannel on another boy.

There’s notes forming in your head on the different shades appearing, the imaginary pencil scribbling and scribbling until your hand hurts and the words are messy.

You take baby steps towards the male, and although his eyes aren’t directed at you, you can feel the pull of his heart on yours.

“Hi,” you mumble softly, approaching his bed before noticing the white over his eyes.

The other members make space immediately, stumbling over each other to give their friend his privacy.

“Hey, I’m Jaemin. Not the best time to be meeting your soulmate, huh.” He grins, feeling around for your hand before relaxing as your fingers tighten around his.

“I guess not—I’m (Y/N).” You whisper, the other hand hovering over his cheek, “may I?”

You expect him to ask about what you meant, but instead he just nods his head. Jaemin was a little surprised at the contact, but trusts you either way.

The way Jaemin looks at you breaks your heart, because his eyes are soft and his smile brought down a notch. He looks at you like you’re his whole world although that ability’s been taken away from him.

“There’s minimal colours in my eyes right now. It’s so faded and it’s going to go back to black soon, I think.” Jaemin states sadly, his thumb stroking over your skin gently.

Almost. The ability’s deteriorating right now.

“I don’t deny how I felt when you walked in, though. I think the colours are beautiful, and you are beautiful. You’re fading… too.”

“Is it? Do you want me to tell you about colours, then?” Asking softly, you scoot your chair closer to him as your hands twine with the other’s.

And so, you describe to him the colours of the rainbow and the colours of his friends’ clothing.

The colours of your university project and the colours of the hospital gown on him.

The colours of the mismatched flowers and the colours of how he makes you feel.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

“Babe?” Jaemin calls out softly, feeling the rustle of the sheets and the dip of the bed. He relaxes as always when he feels his hand in yours.

“Hey, Jaem, I’m here.” Whispering wasn’t uncommon between the two of you, exchanging shared stories in the night or laughing about the members in hushed tones.

It prevented the boy from getting too startled, so you always spoke with a quiet tone. Once you knew Jaemin was comfortable, you’d continue in a normal voice.

Sometimes, he’d be louder than you.

“Baby,” Jaemin mumbles softly, curling an arm around your waist as he settles in the crook of your neck, “could you describe the colours for me again?”

He feels the weight of your smile on his faded pink hair, getting comfortable before you start out with the colour he likes the most—Pink.

“Pink’s like being playful at a picnic in the summer and it’s also the colour of your hair! It’s fading, though.” You take the chance to mess it up further, getting a whine and a giggle from the boy.

“It’s also very soft and cotton candy-ish and it’s kinda a compulsory colour if you want to get a nice sunset picture.”

“Pink is really sweet, too, it feels like that bus ride home after meeting your crush while you listen to a playlist.”

Jaemin gives you small kisses as you carry on to red.

“Red’s the popular colour in Valentine’s Day, alongside pink. It’s passionate and fiery and strong; maybe like your desire for strawberry yoghurt.”

The male sits up to glare at wherever he assumed your face was, only coming back down to your embrace when you surrendered with a laugh.

“Your tastebuds are still hella weird though, babe.”

You know he’s rolling his eyes by the way he smiles, simply squeezing your hand in warning of your insults.

“Okay okay! Now’s blue.”

“Blue’s calm and free, like the ocean and the sky, perhaps. I don’t feel sad looking at blue, though it is a mesmerising colour to stare at and get lost in.”

“You’ll feel like everything’s going to be okay when you look at the colour blue, I think.”

“God, I don’t think that’s the case because of Jeno’s hideous blue plaid shirt from before.” Jaemin mumbles into your neck, moving closer to your body, as if it was even possible.

You grin at the insult to his band mate. “Oh. shut up, I think he looked fine in it.” With eyes drifting to the boy below you, you await any word or reaction from him before receiving none, deciding to head on to the next colour.

“Damn, I can’t remember much about orange, though. It’s been so long since I helped out in my mom’s shop. I’ll google.”

“What- no that’s cheating!” Jaemin giggles, smacking your waist repeatedly.

“The colour orange is stimulating and vibrant and it’s associated with sunshine, creativity and health.” You read like you would with an important piece of text while switching off the device. Green.

“Green’s very nature-ish… and refreshing! Oh! And it’s natural too, because it takes up most of the spectrum’s space of the human eye. If pink’s the playful nature at a picnic, then I feel like green would be the opposite, like cherry blossoms against a field, maybe.”

“Green’s also the colour of your fans. So it might bring you a sense of love and warmth as opposed to textbook meanings. I know it does, for me.”

“Because you’re a dedicated Czennie?” Jaemin teases with the same kisses from before. He feels you nod, “of course!”

“Purple’s also an essential colour if you want nice sunset pictures. It just fits with pink. You can still feel calm with purple but theres this urgency about it? Like it’s telling you to get up and travel instead of staying home.”

“That description was lame, wasn’t it?” Sighing, your boyfriend hums into your neck—a neutral response.

“Yellow are taxis and bananas and the colour of my phone at the moment. There’s also corn and suns and sunflowers.”

Yellow is the colour of warmth and positivity. It can feel like two different things, a comforting hug and… a laugh, perhaps.

You smile at the memory in the shop. “Yellow’s kinda like two separate things, for me. It’s like a warm hug and a loud, optimistic laugh.”

“Are you using the same description from the hospital from months ago?” Jaemin grinned for the umpteenth time that night while you replies with a laugh, loving the feel of his wide smile on your neck.

You plant a kiss on his forehead, then, the scented shampoo of his hair lingered in the air like perfume.

“It was my mom’s description! I just happen to agree with it, okay.”

“To be fair, yellow was the last of the colours I’d seen before everything went black. Weren’t you wearing a yellow dress that day?”

There’s a fond smile on your face as you both sink down onto the pillows from your sitting position, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Close. It was a top. Do you wanna see me in a dress that bad?”

“Maybe.” Jaemin beamed, with hopeful and happy eyes.

You keep quiet after that, playing with the hair of your lover’s while your head now takes its place in the crook of his neck.

“I love you.” It’s quiet and tranquil in the room, slow breaths that seem like one.

“I love you too. More than ever, Jaemin.” You remove yourself from his embrace and cup his face in your hands.

“I love you so much, I hope you never forget that.” Whispering the confession, as you always did, made the moment a tad bit sweeter and meaningful.

And while you were happy to see the boy burst out in laughter from the Dreamies’ bickering or the joke you found online, there’s going to be doubts and vulnerability.

While Jaemin’s mind turned inside out with the turmoil of this new obstacle, you were there to make sure he never spirals and falls too deep.

There were and there will be more days when he feels like the world is against him and that he feels so goddamn lost in this world where he’s supposed to see the beauty of colours, where he’s supposed to see you.

You are his rock to hold on to when the world feels a bit dizzy, as are his feet. You’re the sunshine in a dark world where black never leaves his vision.

You’re that comforting hug and boisterous laugh.

You’re his Yellow.