#fifteen year-old out there learning to build houses or something? -> there’s actually a whole other gang of teens learning to weave baskets

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 8/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN

EIGHT

                When they go back downstairs Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell are both standing at the opposite ends of the kitchen, looking angry. He chances a quick look with Bradley who simply rolls his eyes. Definitely weird.

                “Dinner should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

                “Thank you.”

                “Yeah. Thanks,” Bradley adds and Jake knows he considers these two men some type of parents but his whole attitude screams disrespect and Jake wonders when Bradley might get over himself. He doesn’t want to risk disciplinary action by association. Although, he supposes, Admiral Kazansky can definitely tell that it’s all on Bradley, which is a blessing. The silence is definitely awkward, and he doesn’t know what he can possibly talk about when every subject is a potential minefield, so silence seems like the best choice for now. Admiral Kazansky does offer drinks, of which only Captain Mitchell accepts, asking for a beer and for some reason there is huffs and eye rolling and Jake has no idea what is going on.

                Weird.

                The food finally arrives and they eat and make polite conversation, none of it of any substance. Jake desperately wants to ask how long Admiral Kazansky has known about Transformers. He also wants to ask Captain Mitchell what he’s worked on in the past, because he suspects he’s going to get to learn all about the mechanical workings and help build Jetfire. That’s something that has him buzzing, something he’s wanted to do since he was a kid and not been able to do and now being given even the chance has him excited.

                Dustdrift and Ninja are in the garage and he can tell that Captain Mitchell is itching to get out there. There are definitely more silent conversations happening around the table than there are actual spoken ones and he’s certain he feels almost glancing blows as either Admiral Kazansky or Captain Mitchell kick each other under the table. Or maybe Bradley is the one doing the kicking. Regardless, he draws his ankles under his chair where they’ll be safe from roaming kicks.

                When they’re finished Captain Mitchell automatically starts clearing the trash and stacking the used plates into the dishwasher, clearly comfortable in the Admiral’s house and a pleased smile breaks out on his face when Bradley goes to help him.

                “Oh…” Ice says, voice soft and Jake is fairly certain he hadn’t meant to make a sound. He looks at the domestic scene and wonders what it’s about. Before he can think about it too much Admiral Kazansky is pushing his chair back and inclining his head, clearly intending for Jake to follow him. He enters a study, large desk taking up a large portion of the room, there are photos, maps, books and knick-knacks he’d love to go and study but he stands there, very mindful that this is clearly a conversation Admiral Kazansky wishes to have in private. Or maybe to give Bradley and Captain Mitchell some privacy. Then Admiral Kazansky is reaching behind the door and handing Jake a set of khakis.

                “Here. They’re not up to current regulations but they’re still a step up from civvies.” Jake takes the coat hanger and looks, sees the Kazansky nameplate and his eyebrows shoot up. “They’re old, I was keeping them for sentimental reasons. And I would like them back, however we can make some exceptions given the current… situation.”

                “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

                “Don’t speak too soon Lieutenant, we need to have a talk.”

                “Sir?”

                “Please, this is an informal talk. Very informal. I’m about to trust you with something that only a handful of people know.”

                Jake doesn’t know if he’s ready for state secrets, it’s bad enough knowing that his new knowledge of the Transformers is going to no doubt have a considerable impact on his career, and he doesn’t know if it will be positive of negative yet.

                “Do you have to tell me sir?”

                “Well, I have been informed it would be best for you to know, so that you are not caught by surprise should a… situation arise.”

                Jake has no fucking clue what sort of situation he could be referring to. They’ve already got fucking transforming robots, what else could there be? If it’s informal as it is?

                “Now generally this is very much a case of don’t ask –”

                His stomach plummets, skin instantly clammy and then his stomach is rushing back up and he swallows against the urge to throw up.

                “Did Bradley say something?”

                “What?”

                Jake snaps his mouth shut, mind racing back over the conversation he’d had earlier with Bradley. That they knew that Bradley was… not straight. That they were fine with it. Sort of. Fuck. What does any of that even mean?

                “Sorry sir. You were saying?”

                Admiral Kazansky’s eyes have narrowed and Jake swallows.

                “I’m gay and have been in a relationship with Captain Mitchell for twenty years. Give or take.”

                Jake’s sure his jaw hits the floor. Of all the things he was expecting, that was not it. Likewise the relief that floods through him makes his knees feel a little wobbly and he locks them tight. Bradley’s cryptic as fuck comments make way more sense now in hindsight.

                “Holy shit. Me too.” Admiral Kazansky’s eyebrows go up, and Jake is pretty sure his lips are twitching with amusement and he replays what he just said. “Uh. Just the gay part, not the relationship part…”

                “Yes. I gathered as much. Well. Pete thought it prudent that you were made aware it was a fact so that you could… avoid revealing said fact, even accidentally.”

                “Of course sir. Distract, deflect and divert right?”

                “I like your thinking lieutenant.”

…            …            …

                “Did you remember to tell him that he could have the other guest room?”

                “Shit. No. I forgot.”

                “So, we’ve just put two young men in a room with one bed, despite there being a perfectly empty second bedroom.”

                “Two young men who aren’t straight.”

                “Really? Huh. Well, it is possible they’re just…”

                “They met for the first time today. Bradley may have changed, but I don’t think he’d…”

                “I would have. Ha. I did.”

                “Jesus Mav, you aren’t reassuring me.”

                “Okay, how’s this for being reassuring. The guest bedroom they’re in is on the opposite side of the house and we won’t hear anything.”

                “Still not helping!”

                “He’s twenty-four – ”

                “Six.”

                “What?”

                “He’s twenty-six.”

                “No. I know… oh my god. You’re right. He’s twenty-six.”

                Pete’s voice breaks a little and Tom wraps his arms around him and holds him tight. He knows they’ll start building back their relationship from before, but it will be different and it will have scars and tender patches with bruises that will hurt for years, especially if either of them press too hard. They’re both a little too hot-headed and volatile sometimes and he can only hope that Seresin is calm and collected under pressure, because he’s fairly certain that their futures are all now intrinsically twisted together.

…            …            …

                “Holy shit, Admiral Kazansky is gay and in a relationship with Captain Mitchell.”

                “Uh. Did you figure that out, or are you asking me?” Bradley asks him, and he’s changed into a sleeveless undershirt and boxers, clearly getting ready for bed. Even used to communal living like he is it feels a lot more intimate with them in a room with a single large bed.

                “No. He just flat out told me. Said he was trusting me. Holy shit.”

                “Oh. Thank fuck.”

                “You knew,” Jake states, even though he already suspected that was the case.

                “Yeah, of course I did. Mav is my godfather and Ice is… Ice. Uncle Ice.”

                “Right. Makes sense that you’d know. Except you weren’t talking to them for the last few years because of the secret that your Bronco decided to spill… Weird coincidence that we’ve got a bunch of Transformers and naval aviators and none of the naval aviators are… straight,” Jake says. Because Bradley still hasn’t specified exactly how he identifies, and that’s fine, he might be a little curious, but he doesn’t have to know. It’s enough to know that he’s not actually alone in that respect either, not that he thought he was, but suspecting and knowing are two very distinct things and it’s making him feel quite buoyant.

                “Yeah, you’re right. Although if what Dustdrift said then they came to my dad first, and he was very much… actually. I’m assuming he was straight because he was married to my mom, but he could have been bisexual I guess.”

                “You’ve taken this whole thing really… calmly,” Jake states.

                “Well, I always suspected something was up, so today has just been the confirmation that I’m not actually going crazy and imagining the fact that I haven’t ever paid for gas…”

                “Well, I’ve got a horse truck that needs filling up if you want that life experience…”

                Bradley laughs and Jake finds himself smiling at the sound, because it’s somewhat of a relief that even after everything something as mundane as putting gas in a truck can somehow be funny. Also Bradley looks good, all happy and relaxed, his arms are nicely defined with muscle and yeah, he’s got long legs and Jake should probably stop staring. Not that Bradley seems to have noticed at all, which is a relief.

                “So, now that you know Mav isn’t using the other guest room, you’re welcome to it. We don’t have to share.”

                Jake blinks, a little taken aback, because that logistic hadn’t occurred to him. Of course Captain Mitchell is comfortable here, he likely spends a large chunk of time here, no wonder he simply started clearing the trash and packing the dishwasher, will be sleeping in Admiral Kazansky’s bedroom. Huh.

                “I’m the actual guest, surely you should go to the other room?”

                “Bullshit. I’m just as much a guest as you are. I’ve never lived here. Haven’t called any house of Mav’s or Ice’s home since I was eighteen.”

                “Yeah, and how long has that been then?”

                “Eight years.”

                “Oh. Huh.”

                “Just make up your mind. I don’t care. Less loads of washing if we share though.”

                “Yeah… yeah okay,” Jake agrees, because it’s a flimsy excuse but it’s still better than admitting he struggles to fall asleep when he’s not in a room with several other people, his time at USNA and now in bunks or racks meaning he needs the sound of other’s breathing to lull him to sleep.

NINE

[fancyfeathers]

Father Like Daughter (Yandere William James Moriarty and his darling having a genius daughter)

Thinking about the siblings and cousins again…

Hyacinth eventually needs a wheelchair because of her condition, because most of the time it becomes far too painful and or difficult to stand for long periods of time. Most of the time she would slap anyone’s hands away who try to push her chair, even if they only mean to help her (as someone who has used a wheelchair for about a year of my life cause of a series of surgeries in my knees, so not push someone without their consent). Most of the time when people do try push her it’s because she is ease dropping on a meeting or snooping around the house, she’ll slap their hand away, especially if it’s Sebastian or James, they can handle it, and then go off on her own telling them she can do somethings on her own. Then the only ones who have her permission to push her if need be are her father, mother, Louis, Andrei, and Madeline, but not Eloise or Marguerite because Eloise has the build of a twig and barely lift or push anything over fifteen pounds and Marguerite because she accidentally made Hyacinth tip over backwards by putting practically her whole weight on the back of the chair.

Madeline goes horseback riding early every morning, before anyone even wakes up, like around four in the morning, so no one even knows she is gone. When she is in London she goes to St. James's Park along the paths there and since it is so dark and early practically no one sees her, then in Durham she goes along the old country paths that are practically empty minus the early morning farmer who she passes by every day who she smiles and waves at, but this is also how her father finds out because he is rather sociable with many of the locals and the farmer mentions a young blonde lady who looks an awful a lot like William who rides by every morning. Honestly William is quite impressed by his youngest daughter’s ability to sneak in and out completely unnoticed by the entire family and with a horse no less, because every morning when they have breakfast she is redressed in her nightgown. So one day when she is on the path through the woods she hears another horse coming up from behind her and she assumes it’s another townsperson but then she hears her father’s voice.

“Madeline, you are more than welcome to go riding wherever you please, but do tell me first in the case something were to happen to you… and do not tell me have been riding out in London at this early hour as well, it is not safe at that early.”

“…”

“You have, haven’t you?”

“…yes.”

Then Andrei is an artist, both with the theater, joining acting classes at university and attending talks on the theory of acting, who he normally takes Hyacinth along with, honestly if he could he would love to join the theater as an actor probably but since he has every intention of one day being the head of the family and the earl he lets those dreams go but constantly encourages his sisters and cousins to follow their own dreams, but for now he will enjoy the days of performing with his classmates at school and his sister. Then on the other side of the arts he is quite adept in music, learning from his mother to play the piano when he was barely three, and then quickly picking up the violin, cello, flute, guitar, to name a few, when Marguerite and their mother return from their travels during the time skip they return with a truck full of sheet music from all sorts of countries and even a guitar they bought him in Spain and a violin from Russia and they quickly becomes his prized possessions. Then lastly Eloise was the one who got him into the art of painting and drawing, the two have actually spent hours outside in the garden or the park with their paints or sketchbooks to do a scene of the outdoors and gossip, these sessions will go on for sometimes six hours and end whenever they are called inside for dinner or someone like Moran, James, or Jack comes to grab the two from the park because it is getting dark, but normally when they go out to the park either Moran or James comes along to make sure Eloise or Andrei doesn’t try anything too clever.

Speaking of Eloise, she just wants to be held by someone but has far too much pride to say sorry. She always distances herself from the adults in her life, even her mother when she gets into her teens, and the only ones she will listen to are her sister and cousins, especially Andrei and Madeline. But her snarky and rude comments towards the others in the family gets her in more trouble as the years go by and she learns to become more bold with her words, especially when William mentions the murder of an entire family, including the children, that is assumed to be the work of some Duke in York…

“I do not think you should be talking, father, especially since you murdered the one who had your name first when he was a child.”

The silence after that comment was so loud you could practically hear a pin drop, but Eloise just flipped to the next page in her book that she was reading. The silence is only broken when William stands up from his seat and pulls the book right from her hands.

“Go to your room, and Louis?”

“Yes”

“Can you grab the other books she has up in her room?”

After that incident Eloise was grounded for two weeks because of all of her comments, that was just the final straw. So instead of her books, she must actually talk to her family for a change, but this just turns to her and Andrei painting together.

Then Marguerite has a nasty habit of sneaking contraband items from around the house. Sometimes during late nights when people are asleep in the house, she steals a pack of cigarettes from her Uncle William’s study or from a draw in the kitchen where she knows Moran hides extra sometimes which she normals smokes with Andrei when he takes her out into town or with Eloise when she goes to her room to talk when most of everyone is gone on missions so they cannot get caught, these talks are normally rather deep, hopes, dreams, fears in life, and sometimes they loose track of time and have to scramble to hide the evidence when they see the carriage returning from the window, they only have been caught twice. Then she also often steals a bottle of wine from the cellar, but this is not something she often indulges in, mostly something she does to mess with her father because no how hard he tries he will never find it because it is hidden under a loose floorboard underneath her dresser. But somethings she does open a bottle to split only with Hyacinth when either of them have had a particularly horrible day, Hyacinth’s illness acting up or Marguerite getting in trouble and judged by other nobility, most of whom she has never met, for her lack of ladylike behavior in public.

[doodling-doodle]

The Slice of Paradise Cafe

Kyle and Alex had been out of the military for years. And finally thought of something they could make on their own

Kyle hadn’t been able to work in years. He was discharged from the military after one too many injuries, and was still recovering from the same infection he got years ago. His voice was pretty much gone. Alex had retired with him. To take care of him and… because he loved him. They were only dating when they left, but when he got that infection, it lasted for months. He was proposed to in a hospital room when he was there for the second time in a month when he threw up blood. He started getting better three months later, being on antibiotics the whole time, and, they were worried about it, but he got to say his vows. He got to say “I do.” They had learned sign language as a just in case, but, Alex fully expected it to be that, and he cried when he heard it, even if it was barely above a whisper. That was a year after he got sick. more than a year after they left the military.

Matt and Gabe got married a year after them.

Things were going good. The morning after Matt’s and Gabe’s wedding, and they got home, they were discussing a few things. He had thought about getting a dog, kind of for therapy, but he didn’t tell Alex that part. But Alex actually had a different suggestion.

“What about adoption?”

He had a counter offer.

“Both?”

“Now, how can I say no to that?”

So, they started preparing. It was mostly Kyle, as Alex, who did have a better chance at getting a job since he wasn’t partially mute, (Though Kyle had started selling his artwork on the side, which paid well) got a job at a tattoo shop to help, though Price said that he would help if he had to if they weren’t getting enough from the state.

So Kyle took apart the guest room, and changed everything. The walls were painted a light cream color, the wooden floor was covered with a darker-colored carpet, and the wooden furniture was painted white. He was so proud of himself. And Alex was proud of him.

A few months later, they got their lovely daughter, Rosalie. She was only eight at the time, now fifteen. And a year after they got her, they got their German Shepherd, Iris, who was three-months-old, now six.

But, years later, Rosa was only ten, he got the infection again. This time, he needed to be on oxygen for months, nearly a year after it cleared up. And his vocal cords got even more damaged. He basically couldn’t talk. But every one of his friends had learned sign language for him. He could manage. Plus, Matt and Gabe lived nearby, and so did Alex’s family. And they lived their nice, pretty quiet life.

Now, they were pondering something.

They were pondering making their own business together. But they didn’t know where to start, or what to do.

Rosalie was at her boyfriend's house for the night, and they were up late in bed, talking about what they could do… Well, Alex was talking, he was signing.

“I don’t know how much longer we can do this. If I can never get a real job, then we’re fucked.” He signed.

“I know… And as much as I love the shop, it gets… tiring.” He sighed.

“What if we start a restaurant?” He said. “Like, just a… a small café, or something?”

Alex must’ve seen the realizing look on his face.

“Is that a yes?”

He smiled, and nodded. “You're a genius.”

“Let’s do it?”

“Let’s do it.”

Alex opened his laptop. “I swear I saw that old restaurant building with a ‘for sale’ sign. Y’know, that old Wendy’s?”

He nodded.

“Let me check. This could be a good opportunity.” He searched for about five minutes before smiling, and turning it to him.

It was stripped to the base building. They would have to work it from the ground up, but… this could be an amazing opportunity for a new life.

 "I'll put in the offer to buy it."

He nodded, and hugged him tight.

"We got this, baby. We got this…"

Rosalie came home the next day, dropped off by James, her boyfriend, who could drive on his own.

"Hey, munchkin!" Alex said as he saw her come inside.

"Hey, papa." She was a very beautiful young woman. Looked a lot like Kyle, really. Which, was a little shocking when they got her. Especially now that she was older. But, they never thought more of it. 

"How was your day?"

"It was good! We basically played video games and ate snacks all day."

"And you slept where?" Kyle signed, mostly joking.

"On the couch because we passed out while playing Minecraft. Yes, cuddling. Snuggling, really." 

“Seriously?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, munchkin. As long as you were warm and fed.”

“I was. Anything I missed?”

“We decided on what we’ll do.” 

“Oh? What?”

They both smiled, and Kyle signed, “We’re making a café.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If our offer gets accepted to buy that old Wendy’s.”

She looked so happy.

The others found out soon after, and were all excited. 

All they had to do was wait.

Which they did for a month.

Rosa was enjoying her time with James while both of her dad’s were out. Just playing games, running around the yard with Iris, and cuddling until Alex came home.

“Hey, papa!” She said when she saw him come in.

“Hey, Rosie. Where’s your dad?”

“He ran to the store.”

“Damn, I was so looking forward to tell him as soon as I got back.”

“Tell him what?”

He smiled.

“We have the café.”

She was shocked.

"Really?!"

"Yep!"

She shrieked and hugged him tight. She was just as excited, and promised to help make it their own.

“Damn. Congratulations, man!” James said.

“I’m just excited to tell everyone.”

“Are they going to be here?” Rosalie asked.

“Well, Grandpa John did text me asking if they could come visit next week.”

“Yes! All of them?!”

“All of them. Even Grandma Ava.”

She was so excited.

Kyle got home not long after, and Alex told him. He just started sobbing in joy. And Alex hugged him tight.

“It’s gonna happen, baby. We finally got it.”

“We have to tell the others. We have to have an opening, or something!” Kyle whispered, though it still had some excitement.

“John texted me today. He asked to come over next week. They others will be here too.”

“... Can we tell Gabe and Matt now? They’re the ones that have been helping with everything.”

“Let’s get them on a video call.” 

Within ten minutes, they got on the call to tell them.

“Hey, guys!” Gabe said, smiling.

“We got good news for y’all!”

“Oh?” Matt asked.

“We can start on the cafe!”

“Are you serious?!”

“Yep!”

They both looked so happy, “Please tell me we’ll be able to help!”

“You can, if you’d like.” Kyle signed, smiling. 

“We will!”

They chatted a little more before Gabe left to start his nightly patrol. They were pretty shocked when they moved closer to them from Texas, on a nearby ranch, so Gabe still felt at home. But it’s apparently a small world, because Alex’s father, who grew up in the same area in Texas as Gabe, knew his father. Saw him a few times when he was a baby. But moved to West Virginia with Alex’s mother before his brother was born. (When both Matt’s are in the same room, it gets confusing.)

The next morning, they went to see their new place. It was the last building in a shopping center, detached from everything else, a good sized building. A medium sized café.

"Let's get planning." Alex said, wrapping his arm around Kyle's back.

So they did.

smooth plywood was put over the brick walls and painted white so Kyle had something to paint over. They talked about a theme for an hour that night, and decided: Deep forest.

And they decided to make everything themselves.

So they did.

Kyle had taken two full days to draw the design first, covering the walls with trees and wildflowers. The one wall that was kept as windows had a tinting over it, making it just slightly darker.

When he started painting it, he had so much fun. Like making Rosalie's room. Just with more detail. A lot of detail.

He took a full week to paint all the walls. Doing the smallest lighting details through the leaves, and the shading on the flowers on the bottom of the walls. 

Alex walked in with some news and supplies he asked for.

“Wow!” Alex exclaimed when he walked in.

He fucking melted.

Something about seeing Kyle, up on a ladder, hands covered in paint, doing the smallest details on the leaves… He just loved it. Maybe it was because he just looked so happy. He had a look of “I did this!” 

He quickly got off the ladder, hopping a little, so happy.

“Look at that! You did that, baby!” He put everything down, hugging him tight.

“I don’t wanna get paint on you.” He whispered.

“Don’t care! Look at this!” He let go, and took another look at everything. It was gorgeous. Beautiful…

Just like his husband.

...

Alex had a little experience with woodworking and furniture making from when he was a kid in his grandfather's workshop, so he managed to dig up his old tools from when he was a teen making wooden tables for money, and went to get wood from Home Depot to make tables and chairs.

The first few tries weren’t the best, since he hadn’t done it in years, but he got back in the grove of things. 

The tables were stained dark, but the wood was still visible. The chairs were painted black as a simple contrast color (Kyle’s suggestion).

He had finished two sets in a week. He was proud of himself.

He heard that whistle, and turned to see Kyle, who clearly just got home, walking up to him to the shed and carport he was working under with two glasses.

“Hey, baby.” He took the glass that Kyle offered, kissing his cheek as they sat on the chairs.

“Comfy.” Kyle whispered.

“How’s the painting going?”

“Good. I’ll hopefully get it done by the end of this week. But, then I’ll be left with… Nothing to really do, I guess.”

“Well, I know James is looking for things we can use so we don’t have to actually plant trees in the place. I do have a bunch of old bricks… We do need to tear up the tile. Tomorrow, I’ll come with you and see if I can get it started. Matt offered to come by and help with whatever he could, so, I may utilize him for that.”

He nodded, and was about to say something, but winced as his throat started hurting, so he signed, “I could find display cases. Acrylic or glass?”

“Let’s do acrylic. And then we need those massive coffee grinders. What about tea?”

“I have a plan. Grow our own tea, if we can?”

“Good idea. I could probably get a greenhouse here. Grow it all year. We'll need to get stuff for Hot chocolate, too. Maybe milkshakes? Fraps… Fuck, this is gonna be a lot harder than we thought.”

He chuckled a little, though it turned to a cough, which got Alex on his feet and close to him. It was rare for him to cough anything up anymore, and he didn’t this time, but Alex still got worried whenever he went into a coughing fit.

“You okay?”

He nodded, and signed, “What I wanted to say was that I know the base hot chocolate we could use because you make the best hot chocolate ever.” 

He smiled at that, and pulled him up. "Time to head inside. It might be the pollen."

He couldn't argue with him, so he just let himself get pulled inside, and to their room.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up, changed, and in bed."

He nodded, and Alex pulled him to the bathroom, with a change of clothes so he could shower.

God, Alex took care of him so well.

...

Rosalie had actually gone with Alex to get her own wood to make the menu boards. She had gotten an interest in wood carving and burning, so she asked to do it. They agreed.

She drew up everything she needed for the lettering and floral designs, got that printed on thick and large paper, cut everything out, and got to it.

She lightly traced it with a pencil first. Then carved it out before using a wood burner. She spent a good week just tracing everything, let alone carving the wood carefully, which took another week, and carefully burning it, which was another two weeks. She was glad it was summer so she could work on it all day. Plus, James could keep her company.

"So… what do you think gave them the idea?" James asked. 

"Papa came up with it, I know that. And dad loved it. So here we are!”

“Well, I have an excuse to hang out with you every day now.”

She chuckled a little, and had an idea.

So she texted Alex, who was with Kyle going to a wood mill to get a countertop.

“Hey, can I hide a little easter egg about me and James in one of the boards?”

“Hang on, I’ll ask your dad.

Yeah, go for it.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She quickly did a tiny heart on top of one of the boards, and “R+J” In it.

“You're adorable."

"No, I'm a Lil demon and crime lord."

"You're a muffin."

"I'm a Lil demon muffin."

"Okay, I'll go with that one."

She laughed, and went back to burning.

"Still waiting for the bigger prints to come in for the drinks?"

"Yeah. The smaller ones, I can just use normal paper, but the full-sized ones are pending. How about the wood stuff?"

"Just found something. You can order custom wood pieces."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Pretty neat, it's not real wood, it's just really thick foam. You can order bark texture, too, which is nice."

"Interesting. Send it to my dad's, they'll be pleased."

"I just did.” He stood as she finished up the last bit of lettering on one of the boards, but before putting the tool away, went back to the top and burned another heart, this one with, “A+K”

“You need to have muffins and call them ‘Rose Muffin’s”."

"Yeah, yeah… I think I'll change and hop in the pool for a bit. I wanna cool off."

"I think I have a swim suit here, right?"

"Yeah, you do. And I need to grab Iris."

"Okay, babe. I'll be ready."

She went inside.

And sighed happily as she got to her room.

God, she loved that idiot.

...

Things were coming together very nicely.

The walls and windows were done.

All the tables and chairs were done.

The tile floor had been ripped out in favor of red bricks.

The foam wood that James found was perfect for the fake trees in the corners of the building. (the leaves had a pretty hidden foam base, and Rosalie made cotton leaves for the more detailed ones, with lighting effects and all.)

The front counter had a beautiful slab of wood. It was lacquered and still had the bark.

The ceiling had been painted, too. To look like you were looking up in a thick forest. And Rosalie strung fairy lights, crisscrossing over the ceiling. They did have dim lights, but it just added to the mystical feel of it. 

The menu boards had a dark stain on them, and when the large prints came in, on normal paper, she laid it over the board, and somehow did it so the wood would still show through. They wanted the whole place to feel rustic. That was important.

They got display cases for the pastries. They had a mix of British and American stuff, and the main things were Kyle’s Victorian Sponge Cake and Alex’s apple pie. He served it heated with a scoop of ice cream. And Rosalie made all types of cake pops. She also made a bunch of baskets with James, the classic round type, to put biscuits and small pads of butter and packets of jelly in on all of the tables.

And finally, decor. Rosa had found these small fake waterfalls to put on the counter a long time ago. But that gave them another idea: a massive one to cover a wall. They chose the one to install it on, and figured out how it worked. It looked beautiful. It also had a very nice sound to it. All of them did. They decided speakers wouldn't be used for music, but forest-like sounds. Birds, bugs, wind. Anything that added to it, they took it.

The only thing they didn’t have was a name.

But. After nearly a year of work… They did it.

Rosa had gone to James’ house for the night, and they didn’t have much else to do, so they finished setting up a few of the big things, like the coffee grinders, ingredients, and such.

But they looked at everything they made.

“Damn… Where’d the time go?” Alex said, sitting at one of the tables. It was oddly therapeutic to hear the water.

Kyle was sobbing.

“Baby?” He reached out to him, and he sat on his lap, holding him tight.

“We did this… On our own…”

“We did.”

“We need to bring the others here. Have some sort of opening!”

“We will. I promise.”

They told all the others, and they all took leave to come see them and what they did.

Rosa told her friends, and they came, too. 

Gabe also brought his mother.

That was one hell of an opening. So many people even if it was just their friends and family.

And it was. Just their friends and family. But they didn’t even have a name yet, so they were happy with it.

They all showed up gradually as they got there from the airports from their flights. It was their relaxation after long flights. 

“Can we go inside now?! The suspension is killing me!” Price said, as he and Graves were the first to get there.

Oh. And Rosalie decided they needed somewhat uniforms to look a little bit more organized. Just black clothes. She had a simple dress and tights with grey knee-high leather boots. Kyle had a long-sleeved button-down shirt, black jeans, and combat boots. Alex, being proud of his tattoos and owning the place so no one could tell him to hide them, had a shirt that went to his forearms to show the best of his tattoos, and decided to get a nice pair of dress pants and boots. And James decided to pick it up, too, so he had a long-sleeved shirt and jeans with plain black dress shoes. And Kyle had a pin on his shirt that said, “I’m mute, bare with me : )”

“Alright. Come on, everyone!” Alex said, opening the doors.

It was like… As soon as they walked in, they calmed down. It was almost freaky. 

“Woah…” Graves said. “Holy shit, that… That’s fuckin’ magic!”

“Oh my god.” One on Rosa’s friends, Lily, said. “Can we come here to, like, do homework and study? This is relaxing.”

“Of course, come here all you like!” Alex said, going behind the counter, which Soap rushed to when he saw the all the sweets.

“Gimme everything.”

“Johnny.”

“Okay fine…”

They all found the things that they loved, and all got some type of sweet and a drink. (It was very entertaining to see Ghost ordering a strawberry boba. A drink that only Rosaile knew how to perfect. Most of her friends got them, too.)

They were just happy to see all of them again. The old team. All of them in one place. Plus, the extra friends that Rosa brought. And the addition of Gabe’s lovely mother.

“Honestly, this place is perfect.” She started.

“It’s a little slice of paradise.”

The day, sadly, went by too quickly, and they all left to hotels and homes.

“Well… A very lucrative first day, I’d say.” Alex said as they got to their room. They said is wasn’t necessary, but everyone insisted on paying and tipping.

Kyle tapped his shoulder.

“Remeber what Gabe’s mum said?” He signed.

“It being a slice of paradise? Yeah, that was sweet.”

“What if we call it that? The Slice Of Paradise Cafe?”

He loved it.

Kyle drew up a design, and Alex cut it out on Plywood for Kyle to paint in white.

---

The Slice Of Paradise Cafe.

Their own cafe…

Gabe and Matt are not my OC's. They belong to my friend, @angstkings. I have their permission to use them

[puxinghua]

timekillers, and coping mechanisms (on a twenty-one-year-old in their first relationship)

kissing you is my latest drug. it's my own personal brand of heroin. it's walking to class smelling fruit and fall and flower but still tasting you on my lips. the morning mirror grabs my eye with your iron hot beard burn and so i smear on another round of concealer. it's the wake up alarm ringing for thirty minutes straight and we can't even turn it off because my hands are lost inside of you. the moon looks warmer tonight, it's glowing with a soft jacket of melting honey. i get it now, that obsession phase — we've built our own world that exists nowhere except in the space between our lips. my hoodie smells like your sweat again, and when i sit down for chicken hoagie dinner, my mouth waters with your spit. i lean my head back and bathe in the sweet nasty of it all. it's a glittering new feeling, a fizz buzz spark — my latest and last drug.

the weeks slip past under my nose. you know, i told everyone it was week NINE and i was freaked out by how quickly we had already reached here, but then today i had buffalo chicken lunch with my cute lookalike and she told me it was actually week TEN. what?? i'm a liar! i'm disoriented, i'm falling through space-time! i'm slipping past under the nine and ten and eleventh weeks' nose. and i do so by slipping my lips under your nose again, sniffing out what makes us special until another sunrise is past. the thing is, i wouldn't have been doing anything else anyway. so i consider it a valid use of my time. i'm learning to value people more and the time they spend with me, regardless of how degenerate you think we are. we'll cherish the world that hangs on the saliva string between our lips. we'll build a house in it, a family of four. i'm numb and blind to the horrors inside of me, outside of me, outside of you. i snuggle up in the warm comfort of our time together, the minutes between sleep and wake that we fight for like our lives depend on it. my mind's a special something cocktail for you. i'm disappearing into the feeling again, melting like putty into your fingers' delicate tempo. i'm drawing away once and then coming back fifteen times more. i swallow your chapped lips whole. i let your skin curl and blossom under my reach. our foreheads burst against each other like thunder. i've never felt anything like this before, and i feel it nonstop every waking moment whether you're here or not. i'm going crazy at the slightest breath, the smallest hair of a touch. i'm at my wits' end, i'm sitting with my legs dangling at the edge of your universe waiting to be pulled in again. i'm a slave to my temptations, i'm all seven sins. i'm going to hell. i'm embracing it all with open arms. time will heal me, but time is slow, so i cast it away under your soft silk nose for the hundredth time this week. it's all i have

[stewystew]

My favorite headcanons are the ones that go “[main character & co.] are weird as shit and every single background character knows it” that’s the good stuff

[bvidzsoo]

No one like you

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warnings: light swearing, overload of fluff for the light hearted

 Pairing: Kim Mingyu x female reader

 Word count: 15, 074 

 Summary:  On a very important day you get a call from your sister asking you to babysit her daughter. She knows how important the project is for you and wouldn’t have bothered to ask you if it really wasn’t urgent. And you know that, so you reassure her that you’ll babysit Jieun. However, you get a little surprise when Kim Mingyu, your brother-in-law’s best friend, shows up unannounced, did I mention he’s also your ex? 

 A/N: Holy moly what a ride this one shot was writing! I had no idea I had the capacity to write something as fluffy as this bUT! THIS IS KIM MINGYU! and I love Kim Mingyu too much, so this is me channeling my inner love haha. Hope you enjoy it and I would love to read your feedback!

       The studio has been buzzing with people the whole week. The new exposition was going well and I was proud that my works gained so much attention in so little time. I have been painting ever since middle school, a small and innocent passion became the job that allows me to put bread on my table every day. I never imagined that one day I would become a well-known painter, it just seemed surreal. But it happened, in my sophomore year, I painted a little piece for a contest and I won, gaining a lot of attention. Ever since then things changed, but they really only changed after I finished high school. I didn’t go to college, like many of my peers, I downed myself into the world of art and went around Europe, researching and learning as much as I could about the painters. Somewhere along the way, in Switzerland to be exact; I was actually taking a break; is where I met my manager. Hansol Vernon Chwe. He had a fine eye for art, very sophisticated taste and unique views. Through him, I met Xu Minghao, my second-in-hand. Minghao was mesmerizing, his mere presence could capture your whole attention. Everything about him was delicate, his taste was even finer than mine and he was ruthless. He knew what he wanted, always, and wasn’t afraid to demand it. Only wanting the best, always striving to be the best. I’m a perfectionist, I rarely let loose and I’m obsessed with order. Minghao and I clicked instantly, it was love at first sight, in a very platonic way. Ever since Vernon introduced me to him, we’ve been working together. Minghao is a painter as well, his style rigid and very colorful, meanwhile mine is warm and homey. We run the studio together, he’s a few years older. It was his idea to work together, to build the studio together, to give it life together. It was his project of a life time, his very own dream, and when he shared it with me, asked me to join him, I knew I couldn’t refuse him. It was great exposure to the both of us and it wasn’t a big surprise of how well it worked.

I was busy talking to a client when my phone started ringing, cutting my words off. Vernon threw me a displeased look, they were clients from France and they wanted a contract with me, some of my paintings would be exposed in their art gallery if I went through with the deal today, but when my phone rang for the second time, I knew I had to excuse myself. I wouldn’t have to, if it wasn’t my sister calling. She had a different ringtone, on purpose, and she knew I was busy today, so, she wouldn’t have called unless it was something very important.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you!” Were her first words as I picked up, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Yeah, I’m talking to some very important people, right now, Joohyun. What’s wrong?”

“Wonwoo and I got stuck.” Her sigh was loud and I listened closely, eyebrows furrowing.

“Where?”

“On the highway, we are still three hours away, traffic is insane, again…”

“Okay, what can I do?” I asked, already knowing it involved Jieun, my 4-year-old niece.

“Jieun’s nanny has to leave in an hour, something came up for her…can you go over? Look after her until Wonwoo and I get back?” I bit my lower lip, thinking hard. Can I leave the studio in an hour? The event goes on the whole day and I am supposed to stay. But if Jieun needs me, our parents live on the other side of the country they won’t be able to come in such a short time, I had no choice but to make it work.

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry. I’ll go babysit her.” I reassured Joohyun and she sighed out relieved.

“Thank you, Y/N, you are a life saver!” Came Wonwoo’s deep voice through the speakers, no doubt my sister was using the car’s Bluetooth to speak on the phone.

“Sure thing, Won, see you later. Drive safely, brother-in-law!” After my sister and her husband bid me their goodbye’s I hung up the phone and went to find Minghao and Vernon. Vernon just finished talking to the French clients and as I neared him, he shook his head.

“What could have been more important than this deal?”

“My sister.” I deadpanned and Vernon sighed as he nodded his head.

“Well, I made the deal. So, if you want to back out, we can’t anymore. The paintings we talked about will be shipped off to Lyon next week.”

“That’s alright with me. For how long is the contract?” I let my eyes run over the people inside the studio, eyes falling on Minghao. He was standing next to one of his painting’s, a glass of red wine in his hand as he spoke to three blonde females. They were giving him suggestive smiles but Minghao paid little to no attention to them as gazed at his painting proudly.

“Contract is for two years, Y/N.” Vernon answered me and I nodded with my lips pursed, waving Minghao over once we made eye contact. He excused himself and jogged over, a bright smile on his lips.

“Everything good?” He asked with his honey voice and Vernon nodded.

“So, uhm…” I cleared my throat and looked at them apologetically, “I have to leave in an hour.”

“Oh?” Minghao asked surprised, looking at Vernon to see if he knew about this already, but he didn’t.

“Joohyun called and asked me to babysit Jieun, her babysitter has to leave in an hour.” I explained to the guys and Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Is there no one else that could go?”

“No, I’m sorry, I really want to stay, but I just—can’t.” I sighed and Vernon nodded in understanding.

Minghao’s eyes lit up in sudden realization as he pointed his glass of wine at me, “Mingyu.”

“Uh…what about Mingyu?” I asked confused, looking at Minghao with furrowed eyebrows.

“Call him and tell him to babysit Jieun instead of you.” He proposed his idea and I took a second to think.

“I’m sure Joohyun and Wonwoo thought of Mingyu first.” Minghao went to cut me off but I raised one finger at him, “Joohyun knows it’s important what we are doing today, she really wouldn’t have called if Mingyu was available, okay?”

“Sure.” Minghao muttered with a sigh and Vernon patted my shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything. Minghao will entertain the guests, no doubt.” A teasing grin came onto Vernon’s lips as he took the glass of wine from Minghao.

“Why can’t you do it, huh?” Minghao snapped back, glaring at Vernon when he took a sip from his glass.

“And this is why I didn’t want to leave…” I muttered with a shake of my head, making Vernon chuckle as Minghao shot me a glare.

“We are very competent of running things on our own, Y/N, thank you very much.” I gave Minghao a look before he returned it, challenging me. Sometimes our personalities would clash together, one more stubborn than the other.

“Chill, guys,” Vernon raised a hand in the air to get our attention, our mediator in tense moments, “Y/N, you should greet Mr. Yoon’s grandmother before you leave, she’s been looking for you.”

“Of course!” My face lit up at the mention of Grandma Yoon, the old lady having been a very loyal customer of mine. I met her through the contest back in high school and ever since we’ve kept in touch. She used to think Yoon Jeonghan, her charming nephew, and I would become a thing. She was really convinced she could make us date, but Jeonghan and I were too different. And to be fairly honest, I’m not someone very interested in relationships. I’m fine on my own, I don’t mind not having a partner. It was long since someone held me in their arms and kissed my forehead softly, but my art required a lot of attention and time that I wasn’t willing to sacrifice for someone else. I’ve been on a few dates since high school, but they never worked out. I blamed them on my atrociously high expectations but those weren’t the reasons for my failed love life. It was a person that I never truly got over, he ruined me in the best way possible, and now I just can’t find anyone that could live up to his level. No one. And it was frustrating until I realized I didn’t actual need someone to feel completed and happy. Excusing myself from Minghao and Vernon, I went around the studio with a smile on my face, searching for Grandma Yoon and Jeonghan.

       The car ride to my sister’s house took a lot longer than usual, traffic at noon was horrible in the city. I was at least fifteen minutes late by the time I pulled in their driveway, quickly getting out of the car, big bag full of supplies almost falling from my hand. I locked my car and rushed to the front door, ringing the bell. It took three seconds and the door was thrown open, a relieved look on the nanny’s face.

“I’m sorry, traffic was really bad today.” I shot an apologetic smile to the nanny and she opened the door wider, to let me step inside.

“I understand, thank you so much for coming!” She bowed her head as she pulled on her coat, stepping outside the door, “It’s really urgent.”

“Hurry, then…” I motioned for her to leave with my head and she bowed a bit before rushing away, leaving me shaking my head. I closed the door and threw my heels off, music coming from the living room. I smiled to myself when a girly voice echoed to the hallway, singing along to the lyrics. I left my green, thin, coat hanging on the hanger and gripping my heavy bag with both hands, I headed towards the living room. My sister’s house was big and beautiful. Her and Wonwoo have a simple yet sophisticated taste. Their house looked a thousand times better than my apartment. As clean as I am, my apartment could be a mess from time to time. Especially my art room, where I paint, that one was always a mess. But for me that mess was order, I always knew where everything was and found whatever I was looking for within seconds. As I walked down the hallway to the living room, I gazed at the pictures in white frames that were hung up on the white walls. The pictures were of Wonwoo, Joohyun and Jieun, mostly. There were a few family portraits from both parties, Wonwoo and Joohyun, and there were even some of me and Mingyu. Actually, the one who took almost every picture was Mingyu. He has had a passion for photography since high school and continued to do it as a side job, even currently. He was borderline an artsy, borderline a jock kind of guy throughout high school, maybe that’s why he attracted all kinds of girls. Myself included.

“What a nice voice you have, Jieun!” I exclaimed as I let my bag fall to the floor once I made it into the living room’s doorway.

Jieun’s head turned away and a big gummy smile, nose scrunched up, spread on her soft face, “Auntie Y/N! You came!”

“Of course, I came, auntie wouldn’t miss any chance of spending time with her favorite girl in this whole world!” Jieun started giggling loudly as I spoke in a funny way, jumping my way towards her.

“I’m really your favorite girl?” She asked with another giggle as I reached her and scooped her up in my arms. Her weight wasn’t something I couldn’t handle; she was only four after all.

“Well…it might be Joohyun, but—”

“Auntie, bad auntie!” Jieun whined with a pout and I grinned at her, kissing her cheek.

“Bad auntie, I know.” I muttered and she pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, so I placed her down, “What were you doing with your nanny?”

“We studied a little bit of numbers, then I wanted to watch cartoons and she promised to make some French fries for me but—she’s gone now.” Jieun’s lips formed a pout and she oddly resembled a little bunny, cheeks puffing up. I laughed and crouched down in front of her.

“So, here’s my plan…” I motioned for her to lean as if I was sharing a secret with her, “Auntie brought some of her painting stuff over…so, after we paint a bit, I will make French fries for you. Cool?”

“Cool!” Jieun exclaimed loudly, clapping her hands together. I winked at her and went to grab my bag from the doorway, dragging it to the coffee table. I glanced at her as I opened the bag, her big eyes shone with excitement; she loved drawing and painting; and her nose scrunched up in the most adorable way as she smiled. She was an oddly mix of both Joohyun and Wonwoo. Sometimes, the two would start bickering about who she looked more like…in those time, of course Mingyu and I would have to interfere, and of course Mingyu would be on Wonwoo’s side meanwhile I was on Joohyun’s, just to balance out everything. But when Jieun smiled, she was the exact replica of Wonwoo, nose scrunching in the same way and eyes disappearing almost. When she was serious or pouting, she looked like Joohyun with her big eyes and delicate lips. Her beautiful dark hair reached her shoulders and she’d always brush her bangs out of her eyes, especially when she was frustrated with something. And oh my God, she was one of the most stubborn kids I’ve ever met. She knew how to manipulate people, even at the age of four, and most of the time got what she wanted. She inherited Joohyun and Wonwoo’s calm natures, never being a hyper child, nor too loud. She could be a little angel but she had her moments when she was hard to deal with.

“So…” I looked at Jieun as she kept smiling at me, “Do you have anything in mind that you’d like to paint?”

She sat on her knees close to the coffee table as she stared down at the smaller white canvas I placed on the table for her. All kinds of brushes and colors lay on the table, Jieun’s eyes running over them eagerly.

“Nothing special, maybe some trees…a blue sky…green grass…something nice.” She mused, more to herself, and I chuckled quietly as I shook my head. One day, my little Jieun, would turn into a big painter herself, making her auntie proud.

“Sounds excellent,” I raised my thumb up at her and she giggled, “Should we start?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed and quickly claimed her brush, asking me to pour some blue paint onto her palette. I did as I was asked and watched as her tongue darted out and eyebrows furrowed as she mentally imagined where she’d place the sky.

“Auntie, will you not paint?” She gave me a quick glance before swiping her brush against the canvas.

“Not today, I’m taking a break.” I answered her as I leaned against the sofa, watching her paint, “Auntie has worked really hard the past three months, I need some rest.”

“Don’t you paint though because it makes you relax?” Her eyebrows rose as she tried to lighten the blue color she placed on her canvas.

“That’s true, but I’m wearing white pants…” I trailed off with a lame excuse, making Jieun throw me an amused glance. I giggled when she shook her head, it made me feel like I was the kid and she was the adult. Jieun, sometimes, would act really mature for her age, saying meaningful things without realizing the weight of her words. Mingyu always blamed it on Wonwoo and Joohyun, who would never fail to remind their daughter certain things that would form her into a decent human being later on in life.

“I’m so excited!” Jieun giggled as she pointed at the yellow paint, and I took and pushed some of it onto her palette.

“Do you like painting so much?” I chuckled and Jieun nodded, “That makes auntie really happy!”

“Yes but no!” She exclaimed and I raised my eyebrows at her as she attempted to paint a big sun onto the blue sky she just painted, “Uncle is coming over too!”

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked surprised at the little girl sitting next to me, Mingyu is coming over?

“Did you speak to mommy and daddy, Jieun?”

“Yes, they said uncle Mingyu couldn’t make it in time so they will ask you to come instead.” She hummed and grinned at me before turning back to her canvas.

“Ah, so Mingyu isn’t really coming over…” I let out a sigh, pleased to hear he wouldn’t show up today. I haven’t seen him in over a month, and meanwhile it was a long time, it was actually refreshing. I didn’t have much time to spend time with my family as I was busy with the studio and the project Minghao and I have been working on. Mingyu was considered family, even though he wasn’t related to anyone. It’s just the way it is, Wonwoo and him grew up together, it was only natural Wonwoo considered him his brother. So that made him, indirectly, Joohyun’s brother-in-law and my…well, brother-in-law? I wasn’t really sure, it didn’t matter, I didn’t consider Mingyu really family either way. It was just weird, to look at him and think ‘oh yeah, he’s like my bro’, because we have dated in high school before, for two years. Two years of bliss and pure happiness, two years I wish I could time travel back to.

“But uncle is still coming over though…” Jieun muttered to herself and my eyebrows furrowed, but I ignored her comment. She just misunderstood what her mom and dad told her. Mingyu couldn’t make it today, so they called me instead. Just like I suspected, I knew Joohyun wouldn’t have bothered me if she had other options.

Painting the canvas went well and in-an-hour Jieun was finished, happy and proud of her work. She asked me to critically asses her painting and so I did, entertaining my little niece furthermore, her giggles filling the living room. She was so loud that I didn’t even hear the front door opening, a mistake on my part as I forgot to lock it, and the deep voice made me jump upon I heard it.

“And what do we have here…” My eyes were wide as my heart beat quickly, a loud squeal leaving Jieun’s lips before he was up on her feet, dashing towards the giant standing in the doorway. Mingyu was grinning down widely at Jieun as he scooped her up in his strong, and well-built, arms, his sharp canines showing off when his smile widened more. His black hair was disheveled, probably because he continuously runs his hand through it, and the sides stuck to his face, still wet. He was wearing black shorts that reached his knees and a sleeveless blue loose tank top, a silver chain dangling from his neck. I quickly caught myself ogling him and huffed as I rose to my feet, arms crossing in front of my chest. Truly, who knew not seeing him for a month would make him look more attractive? Mingyu, no doubt, had an incredible glow up since high school. If he would’ve looked like this during high school too, I’m sure all the girls would’ve lined up in front of his classroom to bring him all sorts of things. But even as handsome as he was now, I found him plain. Maybe because I’ve known him for a long time now, and don’t get me wrong, plain not in a bad way…he was just, plain, transparent.

“Look how excited you are to see uncle!” Mingyu teased Jieun as he poked her stomach, eliciting a loud shriek. I couldn’t help it but smile, having a big weakness for Mingyu and Jieun together. And alone, just…when it came to Mingyu, after all those years, he was still my one and only weakness. It amazed me how I never got over him one hundred percent, I just couldn’t. But I didn’t want to either, not when his flaws seemed perfect too.

“Because I love uncle!” Jieun grinned at Mingyu, nose scrunching up making Mingyu giggle.

“Of course, you love me! I’m the best uncle ever!” Jieun cheered with Mingyu as he started dancing around with her still in his arms, Jieun poking Mingyu’s cheek.

“Finally, uncle and auntie are together!” Jieun cried out as Mingyu started tickling her sides, making her laughter echo loudly in the house. It seemed like realization dawned on him upon he heard Jieun’s words, he seemed to realize that there was another person there with them, standing a few feet away, smiling at them. Mingyu stopped moving and Jieun giggled quietly, trying to catch her breath from being tickled, throwing her arms around Mingyu’s neck to give him a tight hug. Mingyu’s gaze locked with mine and I kept my smile on as he returned it.

“Look who finally showed up!” He teased and put Jieun down, acting as if his muscles were sore from holding her and he earned a light slap from Jieun.

“Well, hello,” I said with a chuckle as Mingyu walked further inside the living room, headed my direction, “Long time no see, old friend.”

“A month, to be exact.” Mingyu said, suddenly serious, as he stopped in front of me, “Are you ignoring us now?”

“As if you don’t know…” I rolled my eyes and undid my arms that were in front of my chest, to turn and walk away, but Mingyu was fast and he was already pulling me in a hug. His body was bigger than mine and whenever he hugged me, I felt like I was melting into him, disappearing from the world. This time wasn’t different, in fact, it felt like his body swallowed mine all up as he gripped me tightly. One month was really that long of a time, huh. I returned the hug, suddenly realizing his tank top was damp and he didn’t smell exactly the most pleasant, at least his usual cologne was less strong, “I was busy with the studio and—are you sweating?”

“Right now?” Mingyu started laughing and his chest rocked against mine, my eyes widened, realization hitting me. He just finished work!

“Ew, Kim Mingyu, get off!” I shrieked and tried to wrestle myself out of his bear hug, but he squeezed harder and started laughing louder and louder, “You’re sweaty, no, stop!”

“Too late, dummy!” He said while laughing and twirled me around, very amused that I couldn’t get away from him.

“Don’t make me kneel you where the sun doesn’t shine!” I threatened with a deadly voice and in two second, he let go of me, “You’re disgusting!”

“That’s not something nice to say to someone, auntie…” We heard Jieun in the background say very lightheartedly.

“That’s right, Jieunie…” Mingyu said with a pout, leaning his face closer to mine. I quickly pushed it back and it made Mingyu snort before he glanced at the canvas on the coffee table.

“Oh! Did you paint this Jieun?” He asked, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Do you like it?” Jieun asked happily, bouncing on her toes.

“Love it! It’s so beautiful!”

“Thank you!” Jieun giggled and I patted her head as she came to stand by my side, grinning at Mingyu, “Next time I could paint you!”

“Oh, uncle would love that!” Mingyu winked at Jieun playfully as he looked back at me, “Missed you, Y/N.”

My heartbeat quickened and I snorted, very unladylike, as I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, sure…Can’t say I missed you very much, I guess—Yeah, kinda? A bit, yeah, I missed you too, idiot.”

“Wow,” Mingyu breathed out, an amused smile on his lips, “That sounded like you got a brain malfunction, glad to see I still make you flustered, Bae.”

“Don’t call me Bae.” I snapped at him, eyes narrowing as Mingyu went to the doorway, picking up his discarded backpack.

“Isn’t that your family name, Bae?” A sneaky smirk crossed his lips, he knew what he was doing. Of course, that is my family name but he is using it knowing it has double meaning.

“Go take a shower Kim, you stink.” I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers, making Jieun laugh loudly as she pointed at Mingyu.

“Auntie is making fun of you!”

“Didn’t Wonwoo hyung teach you to not point fingers or make fun of someone, Jieun?” Mingyu’s voice turned stern, but his expression remained light. Jieun, however, knew Mingyu was being serious and scolding her.

“Sorry,” She muttered with a pout and hid her face in my pants as she turned her body into me.

“Go shower, before I cut off the warm water, you dick—” I sucked in a deep breath at the almost slip, it was already bad that I let dick slip, as Mingyu started hollering with laughter.

“Good luck explaining that to Wonwoo and Joohyun later, bae.” He called as he walked down the hallway and towards the bathroom, laughter following him. I cursed in my head as I looked down at Jieun, a big smile on her lips.

“Dick?” She asked with a giggle and my eyes widened in mortification.

“Jieun, no! Never ever say that to anyone, okay?!” I snapped, eyes narrowing at her as I leaned down to be eye level with her, “Auntie will cry if you do, I swear, Jieun.”

“Auntie will be sad if I say…dick?” She giggled again and I glared at her, trying to make her understand she couldn’t say that. How do you make a kid stop from saying a bad word? Help?!

“Auntie will bawl, Jieun, not cry, bawl!” I emphasized the word, knowing how much Jieun hated seeing people cry.

“Okay, I won’t say it at all,” She raised her pinky finger and hooked it with mine, “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise.” I echoed after her, biting my lower lip nervously. This will come back and bite me in the ass later, I know it, and that’s when I’ll really be bawling. Especially if Joohyun will be shouting my head off with Wonwoo throwing daggers at me, dear God, what have I done?

       Jieun was beyond excited when I told her that I would have to cook lunch for us now, and she even volunteered to watch some Barbie movie while I do that. She knew I didn’t like other people in the kitchen with me while I was cooking, I always worked better alone. Mingyu was in the shower still, his phone blasting some upbeat song that we could hear clear and loud from the living room, hallway, and even a little bit from the kitchen. I shook my head as I turned on the Barbie movie for Jieun, Rapunzel, and walked to the kitchen while throwing daggers towards the closed and locked bathroom door. Mingyu always had weird habits but ever since we finished high school, he started developing some even weirder and annoying ones, like blasting music while showering. Maybe if it was Mozart or some jazz music it wouldn’t have bothered me, but the kind of music he listened to were men and women screaming and throwing out nasty words while saying them fast, that’s not music in my opinion. But I learned not to question him about many things, his rants would leave me with a headache afterwards, he always spoke too quickly which messed with my brain. He definitely wasn’t a very patient person and it showed in many ways.

I opened the fridge and took out everything I needed for lunch. I promised to make French fries for Jieun so that was the first thing I started working on. I washed the potatoes before peeling them and washing them again, then I placed them in a bowl and started cutting them up into long, thin, sticks. Without realizing, I found myself humming a ballad I heard a while ago while preparing the studio. It was a beautiful song about a man who regretted letting go of its lover, realizing too late what an amazing person this was. I could relate, almost, but it wasn’t me who broke up with Mingyu. He wanted us to break up, so I didn’t have much choice but to move on. Something I actually failed doing, only partially though.

I prepared the oil for the fries, placing it in a pan and putting it on the cooker, waiting for it to boil. I washed some vegetables and started cutting them, preparing a salad with some yoghurt and lemon dressing. I placed the first round of fries into the pan and hissed when some hot oil collided with the skin of my wrist, I always hated cooking with oil, that shit hurt when it burned you. As I moved around the kitchen, trying to find the salt that seemed to always be in a different cupboard, I became aware of the silence coming from the bathroom. Mingyu must have finished washing up, I strained my ears and was able to hear the Barbie movie still playing in the living room. I went back to the fridge and took out the meat that Joohyun placed there last night to defrost and took it to the chopping board. I took out the sharpest knife from the drawer bellow and started slicing up the meat into, somewhat, even pieces. I always found the cleaning and slicing of meat disgusting, nowadays, I didn’t even cook it anymore for myself. But Mingyu and Jieun really liked meat, and it seems like Joohyun had in mind to prepare it today, so I sacrificed myself to cooking it, not that it’s a big deal.

“Mhm, smells good in here,” The male voice made me flinch, I always get scared from the smallest things, “What are we cooking today?”

I heard shuffling from behind as Mingyu walked further inside the kitchen, his big feet thudding loudly against the marble floor.

“I’m cooking today.” I said as I proceeded to cut off the excess fat from the meat.

“You really don’t expect me to sit back and watch you cook?” Mingyu sounded amused and I knew I couldn’t really argue with him. He loved cooking and he was really good at it too.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind…” I trailed off as I crouched down to open the cupboard and take out a bowl, “You know I don’t like people bothering me when I do something.”

“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me, your first round of French fries would’ve turned into ashes.” I rolled my eyes as Mingyu took his position at the cooker, taking out the French fries and dumping them into a deep bowl.

“I was about to check it…” I muttered as I proceeded to season the meat, licking the mixture from my palm. It tasted fine but I needed to mix it better so I proceeded to do that.

“From what I can see, you do need an extra pair of hands here…” Mingyu muttered with a chuckle and I felt him passing behind me to wash his hands in the sink, “Not that I wouldn’t mind sitting and watching you move around—those pants really do their justice to your ass—”

“Kim Mingyu.” I snapped and rolled my eyes, refusing to look at him and let him see the redness of my cheeks. I swear to God, he says things like that on purpose just to make me flustered. And they always work.

“What? I’m just giving you a compliment here!” He said defensively and passed again behind my back, coming a lot closer and I clenched my jaw.

“Slap my ass and I will cut off your fingers.” I warned, knowing him well enough, and Mingyu started giggling as he quickly ran past me, coming to a stop in front of the cooker. He placed the second round of potatoes into the boiling oil, no complaints coming, unlike from me. His technique was always better. I licked my finger again and hummed contently, about to wash my hands when Mingyu spoke up.

“Let me taste it!” He whined and I rolled my eyes, heading for the sink.

“When it’s done.” I muttered as I turned on the water, hand almost underneath it, when a large hand gripped my wrist and raised it up.

“Mingyu—” I choked on air when he proceeded to such off the mixture from my middle finger, knocking all air out of my lungs. He hummed with his eyes closed, lips in a pout as he released my finger from his mouth. My heart went crazy and my jaw hung open, I shifted from one leg to the other, saliva pooling in my mouth. What the fuck?!

And then my eyes proceeded to travel lower and now I was definitely turned on, “What the fuck?!”

His eyebrows rose and he looked confused as he followed my eyes, which were currently on his well defined six pack. Jesus Christ, woman, as if you haven’t seen men with six packs before! Yeah, but those men weren’t Kim Mingyu…The hand he was still holding twitched and I snatched out of his hold, mustering up my most frightening glare as my eyes connected with his. It took a lot of power to punch his biceps instead of his, very firm looking and broad, chest.

“Go put on a shirt, Jesus, Jieun doesn’t need to see you shirtless.” I scolded him and quickly turned around and washed off the mixture, before he decided to lick my whole hand clean.

“I don’t see Jieun around though…” I could hear the smirk in Mingyu’s voice and I scoffed as I rolled my eyes aggressively.

“Here or not, go put on a shirt, dickhead, no one is curious of your body. This isn’t the gym, Mingyu.” I muttered aggressively, avoiding to look at him as I reached for the towel to dry my hands, knowing well if I looked at him my eyes would be drawn to his chest instead of his face. I tensed and groaned in annoyance when Mingyu’s front was suddenly pressed up against my back, his warm enveloping mine. I hate how easily he could tease me and how easy it is to make me react; how easy it was for him to play around. I knew he only teased me because he lived for my reactions, but deep down I always hoped it was because there were still some lingering feelings for me. Maybe not, he broke up with me, after all.

“You left the water running, Y/N,” He muttered, voice low as he was so close, his breath tickled my exposed shoulder and I tried not to cover away, “Joohyun and Wonwoo won’t be too happy when their bill comes.”

“Yeah, well, how about you learn what personal space is?!” I snapped as I placed the towel down forcefully, wanting to turn around but knowing I couldn’t resist looking at his toned body, I stayed put instead.

“And miss all the reactions you give me?” He giggled as he placed his chin on my shoulder, making me sigh out loud, “That would be a total waste of my time.”

“And a lot of saving of my energy—your potatoes will turn into ash soon, so how about you move?” I raised my elbow and let it collide with his abdomen, not too harshly though. Mingyu giggled again and suddenly a new voice rang through the kitchen.

“Uncle, you’ve finished showering!” I panicked as I didn’t want Jieun to see us like this, she would tell her mom everything and I didn’t want Joohyun and Wonwoo smirking at us the next time we’ll have dinner together, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re cooking?”

Jieun was pouting and I hissed when Mingyu did nothing to move, looking at Jieun with a smug smile, “I want to help too!”

“Sure, sweetie, uncle was about to make some sandwiches, do you want to help?” Mingyu cooed at Jieun and I elbowed him again, harder this time, to make him step back. He groaned in pain and finally put distance between our bodies, when suddenly I felt teeth sinking into my shoulder.

“What the fuck?!” I couldn’t help but cry out and turn around sharply to slap a smirking Mingyu. I started back at him wide eyed as he started cackling, unphased by my slap to his side this time.

“Uncle will go and put on a shirt if he wants to live.” I said with a forced smile as I gave Mingyu a look, eyebrows raising at him, “Or do I have to make you wear one? Like a little kid?”

“Oh, bae, I can do that fine on my own.” He laughed as he walked to the table, where his grey shirt, with a deep V, was thrown down on.

“What is fuck?” Jieun asked, eyebrows furrowed, and my eyes widened as Mingyu started hollering with laughter again.

“Yeah, auntie, what is fuck?” Mingyu smirked once he was able to speak, hid laughter having died down, “I’m really curious too.”

I glared at both Mingyu and Jieun, placing my arms on my hips as I took a deep breath, “A very ugly word that only adults can use, alright?”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you, Jieun.” Mingyu said with a shrug as he went to take the bread.

Jieun stuck her tongue out at Mingyu and I smirked as I walked towards the oven to take out the roasting tray, “I said adults, Mingyu.”

Jieun started giggling loudly and Mingyu threw me a glare as he paused slicing up the bread for the sandwiches he planned on making.

“Hand me some ham, cheese, tomatoes and lettuce, Jieunie.” Mingyu asked the little girl, watching me still as I stuck my tongue out at him before I started placing the meat into the roasting tray. Jieun pulled a chair to the fridge, climbed on it and started taking out the items Mingyu asked for.

“Thank you.” He thanked her when she waltzed back to him, grinning at Mingyu as she sat at the table, chin in her palms. I grinned at Jieun, she looked really cute. I quickly remembered the French fries and placed another round into the boiling oil, making me hiss when it went on my skin, again.

“You okay, auntie?” Jieun muttered as she threw me a glance, her eyes going back to Mingyu, who was assembling the sandwiches now.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry.” I smiled towards the girl before turning up the heat in the oven and placing the meat inside. I turned around and leaned against the counter and watched Mingyu work. His back was a bit hunched as he is very tall, his muscles flexing from time to time as he used his hands to make the sandwiches and he kept making faces at Jieun. He beaconed her over and let her place the round tomatoes into each sandwich, poking her nose and praising her once she was done. I sighed and checked on the potatoes again, stirring them a bit around.

“I have an awesome idea,” Mingyu spoke up, canines showing from how big his smile was, “Let’s have a picnic!”

“A picnic!” Jieun exclaimed, jumping up from her seat, “Auntie! We are having a picnic!”

I chuckled and nodded my head, looking at Mingyu with an impressed smile, “Seems like we are having a picnic!”

“I’m having a picnic with my favorite auntie and uncle!” Jieun shouted as she ran out into the hallway, “I will go and change! I want to wear something pretty!”

Mingyu and I laughed quietly as Jieun ran up the stairs, her feet thudding loudly upstairs as she went to her room to get changed. My eyes fell back on Mingyu, he was already looking at me, and he smiled warmly. I returned it and before I turned around, he sent a wink. I winked back and shook my head as I went to open the cupboards, looking for a tablecloth.

“I’ll prepare what we need for the picnic.” I informed Mingyu and he hummed.

“I’ll finish the rest of the potatoes, how long until the meat is done?”

“Forty-five more minutes.” I said after I glanced at my wristwatch, going around the kitchen to get the plates, utensils’ and what we else we needed.

       When forty-five minutes were up, the three of us went outside in the little garden behind the house. It was a good day, the sun high up in the sky with a few clouds here and there, and it was warm enough that you could wear a tank top and a cardigan over it. Spring was always a season I enjoyed the most. The pleasure of seeing everything bloom to life once again brought great joy for me. Taking walks in parks while the trees and grass turn once again green is a certain satisfaction you understand only if you experience it.

Meanwhile Mingyu prepared a few more dishes with Jieun’s help, I placed a blanket onto the grass and started carrying outside plates, utensils, glasses, apple juice and the food that was prepared, one by one. Jieun bounced around me the whole time, talking loudly and quickly as she told Mingyu to hurry up and bring the meat out so that we could start eating.

“Jieun,” I spoke up, looking up from my kneeling position on the blanket, “Go put on your denim jacket, sweetie, you might catch a cold in a simple t-shirt.”

“Do I have to?” She whined, lips jutting out and eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, you do.” I gave her a look that she knew she couldn’t argue with, so she rose to her feet and ran back inside almost crashing into Mingyu when he appeared in the doorway.

“Woah, chipmunk!” He exclaimed, clutching the plate close to his chest, “We almost lost the meat!”

I giggled and shook my head at Mingyu, his eyebrows were furrowed as he turned around to shout back inside the house, making sure Jieun heard him. I sat down on the blanket, sighing out as I massaged my sore knees, I kneeled for too long.

“Stop being dramatic and bring that here.” I said when Mingyu turned back around, shaking his head in displeasure, exiting the house, “You hang out too much with Jeonghan.”

“I don’t,” He scoffed as he handed me the plate before taking a seat on the blanket, “I haven’t seen him in three weeks.”

“Oh no, did he finally ditch you?” I teased with a grin and Mingyu rolled his eyes.

“You wish, he’s my most loyal client!” Mingyu exclaimed, a proud smirk on his lips.

“Is he becoming as buff as you are?” I found myself asking absentmindedly, hating that I was confessing to having checked him out many times. It’s not my fault, his body is eye catching. The whole existence of Kim Mingyu is eye catching. You’d be a fool to be in a room and not notice him, his sole presence is powerful and like a magnet.

“Oh, so I’m buff?” I rolled my eyes as Jieun came running out the house.

“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, smiling when Jieun plopped down next to me, “Ready to have lunch?”

“This is the best day of my life!” Jieun screeched and I chuckled, poking her cute cheek. Mingyu giggled quietly, grabbing a plate and starting to put various foods on it. Jieun watched him eagerly and so did I, failing to notice the fond smile on my lips.

“This one is for the princess,” He deepened his voice and did a little bow as he handed Jieun the plate, “From your loyal servant, Kim Mingyu.”

“No!” Jieun giggled, taking the plate excitedly, “You are uncle Mingyu! Not my servant!”

“Let me spoil you for a second, Jieun…” Mingyu said with a sigh, grabbing another plate. I handed Jieun her fork, she still struggled with her chopsticks, and placed a napkin on her lap.

“Don’t stain your pretty skirt, okay?” I asked and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“Don’t pressure her, Y/N,” Mingyu shot me a look, “Don’t worry about that, Jieunie, just eat freely!”

“You really do spoil her too much…” I chuckled, leaning forward to grab a plate but Mingyu slapped my hand away, “No wonder Joohyun complains about you.”

“She does?!” Mingyu made an offended sound and I watched as the, now, plate full of food was handed at me.

“Thank you.” I muttered with a smile, suddenly feeling shy at the look he was giving me. I looked away and turned my head quickly, reaching for my chopsticks. Mingyu remained quiet and I could feel him still looking at me but Jieun spoke up.

“The French fries are so good!” She exclaimed, making a ‘mm’ sound as she stuffed her mouth with more, “You cook better than mommy and daddy!”

“We do?” I asked with a laugh, glancing at Mingyu, who was smiling smugly.

“Of course, we do!” He gave me a look, “You’re sitting next to Korea’s biggest chef!”

“You wish.” I snorted meanwhile Jieun started giggling, shooting finger guns at Mingyu who winked back at her. It was heartwarming to see Mingyu and Jieun interact, their personalities were weirdly quite similar. Except, Mingyu was acting like a child sometimes as an adult and Jieun was still a child, she had an excuse. I liked spending my time with the two, I felt refreshed and full of positive energy afterwards. Even Mingyu’s teasing could feel pleasant after a long and tiring day at the studio.

“How’s the studio going?” My ears perked up when Mingyu spoke up, eyes on me.

“Oh, pretty well,” I said after swallowing, “The exposition is going well, I wish I was there…”

“Yeah, sorry,” Mingyu scratched his chin, shooting me an apologetic smile, “I thought I wouldn’t be able to come look after Jieun today, that’s why I told Joohyun to ask you. I had three more clients that were supposed to come in but Jeonghan is apparently sick, the other pulled a muscle two days ago and can barely walk and well the third one—I forgot.”

“You always forget things, uncle…” Jieun said with a giggle, dipping her French fry into ketchup. I leaned over the bowls placed in front of me on the blanket and grabbed the one with the salad.

“You have to eat vegetables to stay healthy, Jieun, not just junk food.” I said as I pushed a bit of the salad on Jieun’s plate, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust.

“You’re like dad, ew.” She muttered, shooting me a cute glare. I giggled and put the bowl down, turning towards Mingyu.

“I get it, don’t worry…” I reassured him with a smile, eating more of the meat from my plate, “I just worked so hard for this exposition and—you know Vernon and Minghao! They always find something to disagree on and to be honest, I hope they can keep it together at least until the event is over…”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed as he nodded in understanding and he placed his right hand on my thigh, giving it a small squeeze, “Don’t worry, Vernon and Minghao know how much this means to you. And, besides, they would be jeopardizing themselves too if they fuck up, so…maybe that’ll make you sleep better at night—”

I started laughing, loudly, as I squeezed my eyes shut the food still in my mouth. Mingyu paused talking and his eyebrows were raised as he exchanged glances with a confused looking Jieun. It made me laugh more and I had to place my plate down and swallow carefully, my body rocking with laughter.

“Uh—I’m sure what I said wasn’t that funny—” And then Jieun started laughing too and I couldn’t help it but laugh harder. Jieun was clapping her hands excessively as she kept pointing her finger at Mingyu’s face, unable to say much.

“Un—uncle—you��” I tried to take deep breaths and calm down. Mingyu’s confused face turned into an angry expression, plate sitting on his thigh, as he crossed his arms in front of broad chest.

“What.” He snapped, eyes falling on me now that I stopped laughing.

“You—” I took a deep breath, calming my racing heart and clutching my stomach, “Have salad stuck between your front teeth, I’m sorry—”

I started giggling again and Mingyu’s eyes widened as he started chuckling, sticking his finger in his mouth to take care of the stray salad stuck between his teeth.

“Ew, uncle!” Jieun screeched, closing her eyes, “Cover your mouth when you do that!”

“Yeah, did your parents never teach you that’s disgusting?” I threw him a disgusted look and Mingyu grinned once he cleaned his teeth.

“You dared to laugh, at me,” He pointed at himself, straightening his back, “The great, Kim Mingyu?”

“Please…” I rolled my eyes with a scoff and gave Jieun a look, a look she returned with an amused grin.

“You shall face the punishment now!” I scoffed again and Mingyu leaned over the food and started poking Jieun’s sides, making her laugh again. She swatted at his fingers, throwing him a glare when he stopped.

“That’s not funny…” She muttered to herself as she resumed eating and I chuckled about to eat as well, when I felt a jab in my side.

“You don’t want to do this, Kim Mingyu,” I warned him, pointing a chopstick at him, “We both know you are more ticklish…”

“A punishment is a punishment, bae.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname but of course, Mingyu quickly started tickling my side and I started jabbing him with my chopstick wherever I could.

“Fight, fight, fight!” Jieun started chanting playfully and I huffed as I caught Mingyu’s wrist and stopped him.

“Seriously, don’t.” He pouted and pulled his arm back, throwing me a glance.

“You’re no fun.”

“Do you want me to tickle you?” I raised my eyebrows, wriggling my fingers when Mingyu glared.

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Halfway through the meal, Jieun said she had enough and got up and ran to the little swing they had for her in the garden. Mingyu and I remained on the blanket, splitting what Jieun left on her plate and eating that too. Once we were finished, I poured him some apple juice, then for myself, and we drank it quietly while watching Jieun run around. I chuckled when she started playing with a small butterfly flying by, handing my cup to Mingyu when he asked for it. He gathered our plates, the bowls of food and put them on the far end of the blanket, away from us so that it wouldn’t bother us. Mingyu was leaning back on his forearms as his eyes followed Jieun around, a fond smile on his lips. I sighed and glanced at him, my eyes falling on the black camera resting by his thigh.

“How’s that business going?” I spoke, getting Mingyu’s attention. He followed my vision of line and nodded his head lightly.

“Pretty well,” He said, picking up the camera in his hands, “I’m collaborating with a high school currently, so I’m taking graduation pictures of their seniors.”

My lips formed an ‘O’ shape and I gave him a smirk, “You must be pretty famous around that high school.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded his head, “Can’t say I’m not, Y/N.”

“Right, can’t remember a time you weren’t famous…” I trailed off, the two of us sharing a knowing look. Mingyu nodded solemnly and then raised his camera, turning it on.

“Two weeks ago, I had a wedding, that one was a big hit, made a lot of money!” He said with a grin, looking into his camera as he pointed it up towards the sky. I looked up and saw the sky was covered with more clouds now, but the sun was still shining brightly.

“I wanted to ask you to come to our studio for today, but Vernon and Minghao apparently booked a really famous photographer so, you know…I didn’t want to say no to them…”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” Mingyu shrugged and started grinning as he took pictures of Jieun, “Your events are way too prestigious, I might have turned down your offer either way.”

“No, you wouldn’t have, Mingyu.” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows and making him glance at me.

“You sound so sure…why not?”

“Because it’s me asking.” Mingyu’s finger paused mid-air and he gulped before nodding his head wordlessly. It’s moments like this one that give me hope, hope that he still feels something for me. Even if it’s been five years. It was enough time for us to get over the other, but having to spend so much time together again made me realize that I wasn’t even far from being over him. Maybe it’s the memories we share, the time spent together, the pleasant moments, the hardships or the person I shaped into while being with him, but it was really hard to look at him and not feel something more than just platonic feelings. It came as a shock after we finished high school to find out that Joohyun and Wonwoo have been dating for two years in secret. No one ever saw it coming, they never left any hints for us to pick up on, it just seemed like they got along due to Mingyu and I dating and always being together. Turns out, they were dating too at the same time with us, except their relationship worked out. And I couldn’t have been happier, they were perfect for each other and they blessed us with little Jieun, the sweetest kid. When Jieun turned two, Joohyun and Wonwoo decided to get married and tie the knot for a lifetime. I was a little jealous when we got the news of their marriage, I always thought I’d be the one to get married first as Joohyun was closed off and wasn’t ever interested in dating or having a family. I guess it was just a matter of time and person.

My eyes widened when the camera made a sound, this time directed at me. Mingyu was grinning as he kept snapping picture after picture and I raised my middle finger at him while sticking my tongue out.

“Hey!” He gave me a glare before turning the camera back to Jieun, snapping a picture of her as she was playing with the flowers, making a crown for herself, “Look at this!”

Mingyu’s canines showed again as his grin spread bigger, he scooted closer, “Joohyun will love this shot!”

It was a close up of Jieun, she was crouched down with yellow flowers in her hands, her dark hair falling around her shoulders and lips in a soft pout. I smiled and looked at Mingyu, “Why don’t you drop the gym and turn into a professional photographer? You are so talented.”

“Y/N,” He gave me a grin and a scoff, as if I already knew the answer, “You know photography is just a hobby for me—”

“Doesn’t it pay better than that smelly gym you work at?” I interrupted him with my eyebrows raised. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned around to take more pictures of the nature.

“Smelly or not, I really like working there…” He muttered and Jieun shrieked, alerting us.

“Jieun?” I asked loudly, eyebrows raised when she turned around, she was holding something brown between her fingers.

“It’s a caterpillar!” She exclaimed excitedly, waving the small animal between her fingers.

“Say hi and put it back into the earth, okay?” I called back and Mingyu snorted as he looked up from his camera.

“This one goes for Wonwoo…” He grinned to himself, looking at me, “His daughter ain’t a pussy like your sister—”

“Mingyu!” I threw him a glare and punched his arm, “Irene hates every little insect, you know that. It’s not her fault—”

“It technically is though.” He gave me a pouty look and I snorted and shook my head. I extended my arms over my head and stretched, hearing the camera go off again, before laying down on the blanket. I groaned loudly as the tension eased from my lower back and I relaxed into the earth, closing my eyes to breathe in deeply the warm air. It was tranquil, the moment felt nice, Jieun’s laughter and chatter faded nicely into the background. I let my muscles relax and enjoy the moment of calmness, that is until weight was dumped on me. I yelped loudly, eyes opening and muscles tensing as I went to sit up but Mingyu’s hand pushed me back down.

“Don’t get up!” He exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed, “Why’d you move?!”

I threw him a glare as I watched him whine more, pushing his ass against my pelvis and sitting on me.

“Mingyu, I don’t know if anyone has made you aware of this, but you are heavy!” I exclaimed again, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“I won’t get off until you give me the same expression you did a few seconds ago—”

“How can I do that when a man is literally crushing me?” I raised my eyebrows and Mingyu scoffed, pushing up onto his knees but still straddling me.

“Happy?”

“Not until you completely get off.” I gave him a sweet smile and Mingyu threw me a glare as Jieun’s loud laughter came from behind him.

“Why are you sitting on auntie?” She asked giggling.

“Good question, Jieun, I think he wants to crush auntie—”

“I was just trying to take a picture of auntie, Jieun, but she’s stubborn and wants to upset me.” Mingyu said pouting, giving Jieun a sad look.

“Well, hurry up auntie then, I want to go inside—I’m tired.” Just as she finished speaking, she yawned and pouted.

“Five more minutes and we go take a nap, okay?” I smiled at Jieun and she nodded before running back to the swing. I looked back up at Mingyu and gulped as I stared into his eyes, the butterflies in my stomach kicking off.

“Make it quick, okay?” I sighed out and closed my eyes, willing my body to relax and let go. Forget that Mingyu is straddling me and dangling his camera in my face like all those times when we were still dating. The camera went off and so did my heart, it started beating faster and faster as all the memories swam in my mind tauntingly.

The basketball court was full of students as everyone was in recess. I was sitting with my friends on a bench underneath a tree to hide from the blazing sun as we all ate our lunch and gazed out onto the field, where the basketball team was shooting around. All guys were tall, the team consisted of mostly juniors and seniors, but Yuto, a guy my age, made it into the team due to his height.

“Ah!” Yuna exclaimed next to me, eyes following a boy, “Look at Wonwoo! He’s so handsome!”

“He’s a good player…” I muttered as I finished up my lunch.

“He could be the worst and I’d still love him!” Yuna mused and the rest of our friends agreed with her. I rolled my eyes when someone from behind us scoffed.

“So, you only watch the basketball team because the players are handsome?” The voice was sharp and I rolled my eyes, turning to face my sister.

“You’re still moody?” I asked her and she shook her head, coming to stand in front of me and blocking my view of the field.

“No, I passed my chemistry test, I’m feeling better.” She gave me a wide grin and extended her arm. She was holding a small cartoon of chocolate milk and my eyes lit up.

“Unnie!” I gave her a big grin and stood up to give her a brief hug, “Thank you!”

“Yeah, mom told me you forgot to pack one.”

“You’re the best.” Joohyun chuckled and pinched my cheek aggressively.

“You only say that when I give you something or do something for you—”

“Joohyun—” My friends shrieked and both Joohyun and I jumped as a ball hit my sister’s back. She hissed and turned sharply, the ball bouncing on the ground.

“Joohyun—” My friends started but Wonwoo running over shut them up quickly.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice was laced with worry and Joohyun glared the boy down. She was a lot shorter but her gaze could always make her seem powerful and scary. She leaned down wordlessly and picked the basketball up.

“Be careful next time, Wonwoo.” Her voice was soft, a contrast to the look on her face.

“Sorry, Joohyun.” Wonwoo bowed his head a bit, hands extending to take the ball from my sister. She glanced down at the ball before handing it over, their hands brushing against each other and small smiles appearing on their faces. The snap of a camera distracted me from throwing a suspicious look at the two in front of me. A tall guy, taller than Wonwoo, was holding up a camera to his left eye as he grinned.

“Yah! Kim Mingyu!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Yah! Bae Y/N!” He imitated my voice, pushing his lips out into an exaggerated pout.

“I don’t look like that!” I snapped at him with a glare as Mingyu walked closer.

“Yes, you do.” He taunted, the camera hanging at his side. Wonwoo and Joohyun chuckled behind me and I glanced back to see them lost in their own conversation.

“Stop pouting, you’re too cute.” Mingyu cooed and I punched his bicep as he started leaning down.

“Why do you keep taking pictures of me—” My words got muffled when Mingyu pressed a small kiss against my lips, a smile appearing on my lips.

“What were you complaining about?” He whispered as he pulled back just a little bit, making my smile widen.

“Nothing.” I muttered and as I went to press another kiss against his lips, his camera went off again. My eyes snapped open to find Mingyu giggling as he was looking down at the picture he took, cheeks rosy.

“Yah! Kim Mingyu!” I exclaimed and raised my arm to punch his arm again but he suddenly jumped back. He stuck his tongue out and I glared at him.

“You two are so immature.” I heard Wonwoo saying from behind me.

“He won’t stop taking pictures of me!” I snapped, watching as Mingyu was slowly raising his camera up again, “Don’t you dare—”

Snap. Oh, that’s it, he asked for it. I took off running towards him but Mingyu just giggled loudly and took off too, running ahead of me.

“You can’t catch me!” He shouted as he turned his head before running faster.

“Screw your long legs!” I shouted after him as I chased him around the basketball field, underneath the blazing sun.

“I love you!” He shouted while trying to take more pictures of me, almost falling when he tripped on a rock.

“You’re an idiot!” I screamed after him, laughing when he almost fell, “I love you!”

“I know you do!” He winked cockily and slowed his running, making me think I’d finally catch up. But when he was in arms reach, he sped up again while cackling evilly. I let out a frustrated cry and continued chasing him, unphased by the looks the students were giving us.

The click of the camera brought me back to the present and I opened my eyes to find Mingyu with his eyebrows raised and a small smile on his lips. His personality didn’t change much since high school but his looks did. It’s not like that mattered much, I didn’t like him for his looks, it was his personality that drew me in at first. His looks were just a plus.

“I want to go in!” Jieun came running to us, whining loudly.

“We are going.” I smiled at her as she looked down at me with a pout and I looked up at Mingyu with raised eyebrows. He blinked and looked at me for a second before he realized he was straddling me, so he got off and helped me off the blanket as well.

“Can you please clean up? I have a Yoga class in half an hour.” I said after looking at my wrist watch.

“And Jieun?” Mingyu asked as he started gathering the things we gathered on the blanket.

“I’ll put her to sleep, don’t worry about her.” I gave Jieun a smile and crouched down, opening my arms, “Do you want auntie to carry you to your room?”

“Yes!” Jieun exclaimed, her droopy eyes widening as she climbed into my arms quickly. I patted her back and walked inside the house, towards her room upstairs.

        Jieun took longer than I expected to fall asleep, leaving me ten minutes to get ready for my Yoga class. I closed her door carefully after drawing her curtains closed and raced into the master bedroom, opening Joohyun’s closet. We go to Yoga class twice a week together so I have my clothes here, in case, I don’t have time to go home from the studio. We were supposed to go together today but since I had to be at the studio, we decided to postpone it. Thankfully, our Yoga instructor does online classes in the afternoon for those who couldn’t attend it in the morning. I quickly got dressed in my olive khaki green leggings and matching sports bra, rushing downstairs quietly, to Joohyun’s study room, where we kept our mattresses. She had enough space in her office, so I decided to lay out the Yoga mat underneath the window and quickly turned on her laptop, logging onto the platform of my instructor. In the big rush, I forgot to close the door and I could hear Mingyu coming and going from the garden, bringing everything inside like I asked him to do. I pulled my hair in a low ponytail and took a comfortable seat on the mat as the instructor started the class.

“Good afternoon!” She greeted with a big smile on her lips, her voice raspy but honey-like, “Good to see some familiar faces around; Y/N…”

I smiled and turned on the microphone, “Nice to see you! Joohyun and I couldn’t make it in the morning, we were both busy.”

“Is she not joining us today?” The instructor asked as more cameras got turned on, there was a total of ten people in today’s class.

“No, she’s not at home, at the moment.” I answered her and as the backdoor was closed, loud singing rang through the hallway. Mingyu’s deep voice bounced around the quiet house and my eyes widened as I quickly shut off my microphone, embarrassed when I saw some ladies smiling through their cameras. I glanced out in the hallway as Mingyu passed by the office, unaware that I was inside, as he bobbed his head to his own rhythm while he continued singing. Did he forget I put Jieun to sleep? He’s going to wake her up. But before I could quickly go and shut him up and close the door to the office, our instructor alerted us that we were starting the session.

“I prepared a relaxing Yoga sequence for today, a thirteen-minute-long practice,” She said with a smile as we took a comfortable seat in Lotus pose, “It’s the middle of the week, but we might be feeling burned out a little bit. I know that I do!”

I chuckled as I straightened my back, aligning head over heart, and heart over pelvis, “You can turn on your microphones as we are about to take deep breaths together, let us hear each other.”

I quickly reached over and turned on the microphone, as did the other ladies, whom I were familiar with from other classes, “Good, now let’s take five deep breaths in, tuck your chins, straighten your backs and close your eyes, empty your mind.”

I did as I was told, willing my muscles to relax as everyone took deep five breaths, emptying our lungs out loudly. It was a relaxing motion and it always helped me focus on the task I was about to do, my mind was a buzzing place 24/7. But my tranquil moment ended when Mingyu’s voice rose a few octaves and he started sputtering words after words. I opened one eye to see if the others could hear him as well, but upon seeing no reaction, I quickly closed my eye and took one more deep breath to relax again.

“Let us stretch our side bodies now.” With eyes open, I followed the instructor, breathing deeply still, “This is a great moment to take a step back from your busy lives and reflect on yourselves. Get lost in the silence and the guidance of my voice, trust your bodies and meet me in a tabletop position.”

I smiled and slowly moved into the position, cracking my lower back in the process, “Let’s do three rounds of cat and cow now, everyone following their own rhythm. We are not here to rush today.”

Closing my eyes, I arched my back into a cow position, letting out a quiet sigh when a few vertebras popped, then starting from the tailbone, I curled up into a cat position. I did that two more times while breathing deep, hearing the other ladies do the same calmed my nerves a little bit. I got lost in my own world, finally, blocking out sounds from the outside that didn’t serve me in this moment.

“On your next breath in, bring your big toes together and widen your knees as big as your mat, then meet me in extended child’s pose, with active fingers.” The instructor spoke up, and we followed, “Let’s wake up the muscles in our upper backs while opening our heart space, okay?”

The skin of my lower back and upper back were getting a good stretch as I gently rocked from side to side at the hips, loosening up the tight joints, breathing deeply.

“Make your next inhale the longest breath you’ve taken all day long and, on your exhale, let go of everything that doesn’t serve you by using lion’s breath,” I filled my lungs with air to the brim and paused at the top for three second before sticking my tongue out, eyes looking at my third eye and letting all the air out, similar sighs coming through the laptop.

“Carefully moving, let’s meet in downward dog, but only proceed from a tabletop position.” I raised back into a tabletop position and carefully, knees bent and arms placed at a wide distance on the map, I raised into a downward dog position, heels coming down on the earth.

“Let’s pedal it out,” The instructor said, “Your heels don’t have to come down to the earth straight away, pedal them out first, feel your muscles stretch and when you did all that, grow heavy in your heels and come to a still position for three deep cleansing breaths.”

I moved my legs as if I was walking, in one place, pedaling them out and sighing out when my hamstrings got the stretch they so desperately needed. I ground my heels down and stilled my movements, taking deep breaths. As I took in my last set of deep breath, the floor creaked in the doorway and I opened my eyes, seeing Mingyu upside down from this position, standing in the doorway. His jaw was hung open but when we made eye-contact, a wide smirk spread on his lips.

“Damn,” He muttered as he leaned against the doorframe, “If you only had this ass back in high school too—”

I gasped as my cheeks flushed, the sudden laughter coming from the laptop making Mingyu jump. His eyes widened as he looked towards the screen, and as I lowered from the downward dog, I caught the faint tint of red on his cheeks. The ladies were still giggling, the instructor’s eyebrows raised curiously.

“Uh—I’m really sorry—he didn’t know my microphone was on—”

“Good evening, ladies,” Mingyu smiled charmingly, they could see him well through the camera, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll quickly head out.”

“Now, now,” The instructor said with a chuckle as Mingyu slowly left, throwing me a smirk that made me glare at him, “We needed that laughter, didn’t we, ladies?”

There was a chorus of agreements and my cheeks flushed again as I chuckled in embarrassment, “Sorry, he’s—”

“A charming young man, indeed,” The instructor interrupted me with a small smile, “let’s try to focus once again though and repeat our downward dog before we proceed with our practice.”

And we did proceed with our relaxing practice, but the problem was I couldn’t relax with Mingyu continuously walking in and out of Irene’s study room and always whispering things at me. At first, he was asking for some books Wonwoo recommended him to read, then he took a seat on Irene’s couch and started reading out loud but in a whisper, meanwhile I kept throwing glares at him. Does he know he’s supposed to leave me alone? By the time the class took an end I wasn’t anywhere relaxed, instead I was angry and irritated. The practice was supposed to make me feel light and relaxed but due to Mingyu bothering me, it didn’t work out. When we were talking leisurely after we finished the practice, Mingyu dangled his head into the camera. The ladies started laughing again and he had a heartful conversation with my Yoga instructor, to which he even got an invitation to her class after he complained about his muscles being stiff after a long day at the gym. When we were saying our goodbye’s, a lady had the audacity to call Mingyu and I, a cute and playful couple, which I wanted to deny but before I could, Mingyu was nodding and thanking her making my heart pump quickly. Once the call was over, Mingyu sat back on the couch and I proceeded to roll up Irene’s mat and placed it back to its place, throwing a glare at a grinning Mingyu. My eyes fell on the book he tormented me with and I took it in my hand and whacked him over the head.

“Hey!” He exclaimed and started rubbing his head, “What are you doing?!”

“What are you doing?!” I snapped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I took the Yoga class to relax a little bit but thanks to you I just became more irritated!”

“You did?” He raised his eyebrows and I went to whack him again but he caught my arm and quickly jumped up, “Okay, okay, I get it! Sorry, I won’t do it next time!”

“Of course, you won’t. There’s no next time.” I rolled my eyes and let Mingyu take the book from me and place it back onto the shelf.

“What are you saying?” He asked with a chuckle, becoming amused when I sighed and looked at him expectantly, “I got an invitation to your instructor’s next class and I’m definitely not going to miss it—”

“Hell, no.” I snapped and turned around to leave the office, but not before opening the window to let fresh air in, “So that you torment me there too? No, thank you.”

“Come on! I won’t!” Mingyu whined as he followed after me, closing the door behind me, “I’ll take it seriously!”

“You won’t, I know you too well, Kim Mingyu.” I said with a snort as I started walking up the stairs, Mingyu still following close behind.

“Please?” He looked at me with puppy eyes when I glanced back, “I’ll let you drive me around, okay?”

“As if I want to do that.” I scoffed as I walked to the master bedroom to get my clothes before I head to shower.

“I know you do,” A smirk crossed Mingyu’s lips as he blocked my way, “I heard from Wonwoo you bought a new Mercedes, I just know you’re dying to show it off to me.”

“Am not.” I said with a scoff, biting my lip afterwards. Oh, and how right he is, I can’t wait to pick him up from work and drive him here, in my new light turquoise Mansory S-Class Cabriolet, the next time we are having dinner with Joohyun, Wonwoo, and Jieun.

“You do,” Mingyu cooed and I rolled my eyes as I side stepped him, heading out the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

“Now, stay quiet and don’t wake Jieun, I want to shower.”

“Go, go,” Mingyu ushered me inside the bathroom, gripping the handle, “Relax now, since you couldn’t while doing Yoga.”

“Dickhead—” He cut me off by closing the door in my face and I could hear his giggles as he walked away, his footsteps still loud. I groaned and quickly put my hair in a bun, turning on the warm water in the shower stall. The bathroom upstairs was bigger and it was divided in two in such way that if someone was showering another person could still come in because you wouldn’t see them, as the shower stall was just behind the other wall.

       And there’s a reason why I usually avoid showering upstairs. It’s so big that the person won’t even hear the running water and often times would walk in, it happened with both Joohyun and Wonwoo while I showered, when they newly bought the house. Like I said, they still couldn’t see you, but the thought alone was enough to drive me away from showering upstairs and just using the downstairs shower. And that same thing happened while I was massaging an exfoliating soap onto my skin. The door opened and I heard feet thudding inside loudly.

“Jieun?” I called out, straining my ears to hear the person inside, “Did you have a nightmare and wake up? Mingyu is downstairs sweety, I’m showering, you can go to him—”

“Yeah,” My eyes widened at the male voice and I quickly turned around in the shower stall, making sure he didn’t already approach me, “Mingyu is upstairs, actually.”

“What the hell are you doing inside, Mingyu?!” I exclaimed, frozen as I listened closely, “I’m showering!”

“Uh, yeah, I know, you told me and I hear the water running—”

“What the fuck are you doing inside then?!” I exclaimed again, eyebrows furrowing when Mingyu cursed loudly.

“Fuck, I stubbed my toe!” He hissed and I scoffed as I quickly rinsed off the soap, “And I know, but I was bored downstairs alone…”

“So, you just come and intrude on a woman while she’s showering? Because that’s fine?” I snapped; eyebrows raised even if he couldn’t see me. I heard the toilet making sounds and realized Mingyu closed the lid and sat on top of it.

“Hey, don’t make me sound like a creep!”

“You are being a creep right now, though.” I pointed out as I took my regular, tropical scented, body lotion and spread it on my body.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t even see anything, you know that, I just—” He let out a long sigh and my eyebrows raised as I paused.

“You just, what?” I asked curiously as I let the warm water wash off the body lotion.

“I was wondering, like, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, actually, you know…” There was a pause as Mingyu cleared his throat before he continued, “Just…after we broke up, you know…did you date anyone else? Like, had a boyfriend, girlfriend, or something…”

My eyebrows furrowed at the odd question, not expecting it from Mingyu, we never talked about relationships or partners. We always stayed away from the topic that involved our personal lives for multiple reasons, so it was a surprise that he finally asked about it, especially when I was showering.

“I mean…” I let out a breath, standing underneath the warm water, “It’s been five years since we…broke up, so…yeah. I had…three…boyfriends.”

“Oh,” Mingyu sounded surprised and I grimaced waiting for him to continue speaking, “Yeah, I had a lot of flings during college, then a serious girlfriend that lasted for a year only, so…”

He chuckled, but I could hear he didn’t take it lightly, it bothered him that it didn’t work out. Something was bothering him still; I could hear it in his voice.

“Well, you know, I don’t know if Joohyun and Wonwoo talked about me and if they did and Wonwoo told you, but…” I took a deep breath and turned off the water, reaching for the long towel, “You pretty much broke my heart, no joke.”

Mingyu remained quiet as I placed the towel around my body and secured it tightly at my breasts, “I don’t blame you now, with this mentality, and I don’t hate you either anymore.”

We both chuckled at the same time and Mingyu sighed as we both stayed put where we were standing, “Honestly, I was a big dick back then. Breaking up with you because I wanted to get the whole college experience—I was a fucking idiot, to be honest.”

“You still are…” I muttered and Mingyu chuckled before he sighed again, “Actually…you know, how I was supposed to come with a plus one to my sister and Wonwoo’s wedding?”

“Yeah, and then you showed up with—”

“Minghao,” We said at the same time.

“Yeah, Minghao, and everyone was fucking confused from your family.” Mingyu continued talking, “Even Wonwoo…I still don’t get what the fuss was about.”

“I was supposed to come with my fiancé—”

“Fiancé?!” Mingyu choked out and I giggled, “You had a fiancé at the age of twenty-one, what the fuck?! And you didn’t tell me?!”

“We met when I was nineteen, actually, but back then I was kinda playing around with two guys, you know…still not over you, dickhead, but then him and I got closer and we got engaged three months before the wedding.” I explained, enjoying when Mingyu gasped.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know?” I asked with a chuckle, leaning my head against the wet tiles of the shower stall, “We realized we were too different? I don’t know, honestly, but I’m glad we broke up. I don’t think we were a good match.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too.” I scoffed and I heard shuffling, meaning Mingyu stood up, “Why did even Vernon show up at the wedding? He wasn’t even invited—”

“Two drunk calls from Minghao and I were enough to bring him around—”

“And then I had to drive the three of you home, yeah, I remember.” Mingyu didn’t sound amused and I started laughing.

“Well, if you were dumb enough to come by car and not with a cab like everyone else…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mingyu scoffed and he cleared his throat again and hesitated to speak, “So, uhm, I was thinking…let’s go on a date?”

I blinked once and then twice and paused. Kim Mingyu was asking me on a date? Or was I hallucinating?

“I really should have waited after you finished showering, not seeing your face is frustrating.” He groaned to himself and I chuckled.

“To your information, I’m gaping right now,” Mingyu chuckled and I pursed my lips, “You want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I think we are both mature enough to start things over, if we wanted to,” He sighed and I licked my lips, pushing off from the wall, “At least, I want to if you’re not against it.”

“Did spending your day with me make you nostalgic, Kim Mingyu?” I asked with a chuckle and he just hummed. I didn’t know how to feel. Did I still have feelings for him? Yes. Did he hurt me already once? Yes. But as he said, we are adults now, we view things differently now. I’m still unsure however.

“I can’t give you an answer right now,” I decided to be honest with him, he deserved it, “Give me time to think.”

He hummed quietly and I knew he wasn’t expecting that answer and he was disappointed, but he quickly spoke up, “I’ll go wake Jieun so that we can prepare dinner together.”

And he was out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with my conflicting thoughts. Did I want to go on a date with him? Yes. Was I afraid we wouldn’t work out anymore and I’d lose him forever? Yes.

        After Jieun woke up, the three of us went downstairs and prepared dinner together, spending a good hour in the kitchen. But it still wasn’t dinner time so we snuggled up on the couch in the living room and watched a family movie together, Mingyu bringing us a big blanket to keep us warm. Jieun was snuggled up into his side, putting Mingyu into the middle, and I threw him a curious glance when he kept shifting around, until his arm was around my shoulders and his body was leaning onto mine.

“It’s comfier.” He whispered, keeping his eyes on the TV and I shook my head before looking back towards the TV and feeling my cheeks heat up. It felt nice being snuggled up next to him, his warmth enveloping mine and creating a feeling of calmness and safety. If there was a feeling I missed after Mingyu left me, it was the safety I felt whenever I was with him. His bigger body and the way he carried himself and even interacted when he was with me made it obvious to me that he’d do anything to keep me safe and that I shouldn’t worry. So, in the middle of the movie I cleared my throat and glanced up at him to see him already looking down at me.

“Let’s go on that date.” I whispered quietly at him and instantly Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, squeezing my shoulder tightly for a few seconds before he sighed out happily. I chuckled and placed a palm against his beating hart, cheeks flushing when I felt his quick pulse. A feeling of fulfilment filled my senses and I couldn’t help the smile spreading onto my own lips.

       After the movie was over, the moon was high up in the sky, and we headed to the kitchen to have dinner. Jieun excitedly told us stories about her encounters with other kids in kindergarten and how she kept tricking her nanny into giving her candy without her mom and dad knowing. Dinner was filled with giggles and Mingyu throwing me glances every few minutes, eyes warm and happy. Jieun even pointed it out at some point, asking us if we were hiding a secret or surprise from her. When we reassured her that no, we weren’t, she pouted and settled on finishing her dinner quietly while Mingyu and I conversed about what we did the one month we didn’t meet up, laughing at the memories we shared in high school when one brought it up randomly. After dinner, Jieun had a warm bubble bath and I braided her hair in two, helping her into her pajamas before Mingyu and I tucked her in bed. We were both sitting on each side of her bed, her bedside lap turned on and we chatted for a little while, until she fell asleep.

“You know,” Jieun muttered sleepily, her eyes already closed, “Uncle and auntie act just like dad and mommy. Will you have babies too? I’ll have someone to play with forever…”

Mingyu and I shared a look as I chuckled and leaned over Jieun, cradling her cheek, “Auntie and uncle aren’t like that, Jieun. There’s men and women who are just friends, who love each other but never make babies, because it’s not that kind of love, you know?”

“Don’t worry, Jieunie,” Mingyu leaned closer too, a devilish smirk crossing his lips, “Uncle will convince auntie to make babies so that you’ll have someone to play with, okay?”

Jieun’s eyes opened and she grinned widely as I threw Mingyu a glare, “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

“Hey!” I exclaimed quietly as the two pinky promised in front of me with grins on their lips as if I wasn’t even there, “It’s not that easy to make babies—”

“We’ll figure it out.” Mingyu cut me off with a wink and I scoffed, leaning down and kissing Jieun’s cheek.

“Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, chipmunk.” Jieun grinned as Mingyu pressed a quick kiss against her forehead and then we got up, turned off her bedside lamp and turned on her fairy lights. Quietly closing her door, we descended down the stairs and I could feel Mingyu smirking next to me, his hand continuously brushing against mine.

“Stop giving Jieun false hope, dickhead.” I snapped finally, making Mingyu giggled. He was expecting my reaction, as we walked back to the living room.

“I was being serious, Bae.” I groaned as Mingyu turned on the TV, putting on some random movie as we sat down on the couch, pulling the blanket over us again. We remained silent during the movie, enjoying the presence of the other, and my heart started racing when Mingyu interlaced his fingers with mine underneath the blanket and placed our hands on his thigh. I didn’t realize I wanted this until it happened, and I couldn’t be gladder. Because in this world, there was no one like Kim Mingyu, and he was mine.

My one and only true love.

[princessphilly]

Word Count: 1975 (you know I start small then build up)

Tag list: @newlibrary , @luvsherleafs @spine-buster , @m00nlightdelights @lovethepreds @myhockeyworld87 @Defiant-mouse, @callllumhood @yzas-stuff , @stars-canucks @laurenairay @cutiesara23, @besthockeyfics @hockeyallthetime @tazerass , @markymarkstrom @letsgobaby, @himbos-on-ice @hockeywocs @bloodthedevil @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @whatishockey @dreamer1430 @shelbsatans

CW: people failing to be mean, some angst. We are still rated pg-13 but we will be hitting NC-17 soon.

Add me to the tag list!

It’s okay to admit that you are enough. It’s also okay to struggle with admitting that to yourself. At least, that’s what I learned when Meghan Markle still had her old blog, The Tig, up online before she became the Duchess of Sussex. Honestly, she’s one of my goals; her father is a trip and she’s managed to live well despite his issues. I’d like to be able to do whatever she did with my mom. - journal 9/2

**

“The man over there says thanks.”

Jamila looked at the waiter, confused. “Um, okay,” she questioned as she looked where the waiter was discreetly pointing. A tall, brown haired guy raised a whiskey neat in salute. Jamila gave him a tentative grin. After the waiter left, she hissed, “I didn’t send him a drink, Lisa! What the hell?”

Jamila had to admit he was attractive but not her usual type. Her type was the outdoorsy type, the kind who could fish, hunt, and actually be able to live off the land if society collapsed overnight. This guy… he looked like money and power, the kind to hire someone to take care of him.

After a moment, it became obvious what happened as Alyssa and Frances came back over. Jamila put on her best movie-star fake smile as those two came by. They were the worst kind of people; backstabbers who even when they got caught, still got away with it because they knew how to suck up to the people in power. Jamila knew exactly why they didn’t like her: she had enough fame left over that she didn’t need to be their friend to earn a good reputation in their phD program.

“Meet any nice guys,” Frances asked with a sly smirk on her face.

Jamila gave Lisa a sideways look as Alyssa said, “I mean, there’s Jonathan Toews, he’s single. I bet he’d be interested in a washed-up actress.”

“Hmmm, I have no idea who you are talking about,” Jamila honestly said.

Alyssa smirked as she replied, “He plays for the Blackhawks, Meena.”

Jamila grit her teeth as Alyssa used her first name. She hated when people used her first name, it brought up too many bad memories. Before she could reply, the attractive brown-haired guy was standing next to her with a faint grin on his face. “Um, hi,” Jamila said as Lisa, Alyssa, and Frances stared at him.

“I figured I’d say hi after you sent me that drink. I would have bought you one but I don’t know what you’re drinking and it wouldn’t be nice to assume. My name is Jonathan,” he said with a flirtatious wink.

Jamila hesitantly replied, “My name is Jamila and I’m just drinking merlot tonight.”

“Another glass,” Jonathan asked, his deep voice doing things to Jamila’s insides. She bit her lip as she looked at him, trying to decide if she wanted to encourage him or not.

“Sure.”

As he found a waiter, Jamila looked at Lisa. Lisa motioned to her phone and Jamila checked her screen. That’s jonathan toews, the guy those bitches were talking about. He plays hockey and is the captain of the blackhawks

Jamila texted back, what is hockey n y should i care

Then the waiter came with a fresh glass of merlot and Jonathan passed it to her. Jamila took a deep sip, loving the taste. Merlot was truly her favorite and they had a good house vintage. Jonathan asked, “Are you new to Chicago?”

“I’ve been here for a year. It’s alright,” Jamila replied. “This is my first time going out on the North Side though.”

Jonathan gave Jamila a slow smile and her breath caught. He definitely was attractive but not her usual type. He said, “Then that’s why we’ve never met til now. I would have definitely remembered such a beautiful woman if I saw you before.”

Jamila giggled. “That’s a good one. You get one point for that.”

“Just one point? Is it an assist or a goal?”

“Um,” Jamila stalled. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

The sly smile on Jonathan’s face turned into a wide smile. This girl was not only hot but he could tell that she was truly clueless about hockey. Tonight was a win-win for him. “I’m going to assume it’s a goal then.”

“Okay.” Jamila shrugged as she took another sip of her wine. “I’m still not completely impressed so you still need to work on it.”

Jonathan laughed, causing some people to turn towards them. Jamila caught Alyssa and Frances giving her the evil eye and she smirked. Reaching out a hand, she touched Jonathan’s upper arm. Jamila had no idea what hockey was but whatever it was, he definitely was built. Jamila turned slightly as she rubbed his arm, making sure that those two bitches could see that she was touching him.

“You like what you feel,” Jonathan asked, his voice slightly deeper with a sultry tone.

Unable to resist the bait, Jamila replied, “Of course,” licking her lips. There was no problem in flirting with him, she thought to herself as he smirked at her.

Jonathan’s eyes were on her lips. She had full lips, made for kissing. Jamila wasn’t his usual type but Jonathan didn’t have a problem with that. “There’s more that you can-,” he started before someone bellowed, “TAZER!”

Jamila whipped around towards the sound, annoyed to have been interrupted before her attention was caught by the kind of guy of her dreams. He was tall, auburn haired, and looked like a lumberjack. He was perfection and he came over to them.

“Duncs,” Jonathan called.

The lumberjack said, “Heyy Tazer.”

Jamila smiled. Maybe this whole drink mix-up thing was working out for her, she thought until she saw her LA friend, Shan, come up behind this Duncs guy. Shan’s brother Alex was with them, his ever present backwards cap covering his hair.

Jonathan loved Duncs as a brother but right now, he was annoyed and pissed. He had been close to sealing the deal but Jamila was now looking at Duncs like he was the last man on earth. Then Jamila gave him a brilliant smile and Jonathan suddenly realized that he was totally fucked.

“Hi,” Jamila purred, forgetting that her hand was still on Jonathan’s bicep. Duncan looked at that and raised an eyebrow at his captain. Jonathan gave him a glare and Duncan made a motion with his hands.

Before Duncan could reply, Shan yelled, “Jamillllaaa!! Long time no see!”

“Hi Shan,” Jamila drily replied, glad she used her preferred name instead of her first name. Shan was a fellow child actress, a Canadian who managed to get supporting roles at Disney over the years before transitioning to a character actress when she became an adult. Shan was the only one whose parents were actually on-set all of the time and paid attention to what was going on. Consequently, Shan was the only one who didn’t have substance abuse problems, etc. and the only one from her former shows that Jamila kept in contact with.

Jonathan looked at Shan and Jamila. “You two know each other?”

Shan drunkenly giggled as Alex closed his eyes. “We were both Disney kids back in the day.”

Jamila sardonically smiled. “Those were fun days.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex replied. “Shan’s got a role in one of the next Marvel movies so she decided to celebrate.”

“Congratulations,” Jamila sincerely stated. Getting a role in the MCU was a steady check and something to celebrate. Then Jonathan took a double take and looked at her and Jamila groaned. He bit one of his thin lips and then he smirked before putting a finger to his mouth. Jamila exhaled and gave him her biggest smile. He recognized her but he didn’t say anything. Jamila leaned over and whispered into Jonathan’s ear, “You just got a second point.”

“Then maybe you should let me have your number,” Jonathan purred into Jamila’s ear.

Jamila smirked, rolling her eyes but before she could respond, Shan slurred, “Wow, Jamila, you waste no time. You were just telling me yesterday that you didn’t know a damn thing about hockey and tonight, you’re talking with Captain Serious.”

Jonathan wanted to shake his teammate’s sister because Jamila shut down, pursing her lips.

Oblivious, Shan continued, “Now, you don’t have an excuse not to go with my brother to the bowling thing.”

Alex face-palmed as Jamila pinched the bridge of her nose. She had totally forgotten about that and of course, when Shan was drunk, she was loud and obnoxious.

Pasting her best fake smile on her face, Jamila said, “I think it’s time for me to go.”

“So soon,” Duncan teased.

Jamila smirked at him, looking him up and down. “I need my beauty rest and to not strangle my friend.”

Jonathan gritted his teeth as he watched Jamila eye his friend. Then she turned to him and blew him a kiss. “It was nice to meet you, Jonathan,” Jamila said, giving him a wink.

Jonathan smiled back and Jamila was taken aback for a moment. There was a promise in those dark brown eyes and she felt her body begin to respond. Then he licked his lips and for a moment, all Jamila could think about was maybe those lips on her body. Slightly shaking her head, Jamila waved her fingers before going to call an Uber. This was a night.

**

After getting home, Jamila tossed her bag onto her front table. She suddenly felt exhausted even though it was barely after 11:30pm. Walking into her living room, Jamila saw her other cell phone glowing. Picking it up, she cursed. There were fifteen messages and ten missed calls, all from Janine. The messages started off nice, asking how Jamila was doing to nasty, calling her all kinds of names for not picking up and giving her “mother” money.

Tossing the phone back onto the table, Jamila sighed. Getting a separate cell phone just for her mother’s calls was the best but it was draining just to look at it.

Janine Brown was a bit actress, stage-mother, and now two-bit manager. Janine had always wanted to be an actress, even when she was attending grad school at MIT for physics. There, she met Jayesh Vyas, a student earning a PhD in computer engineering. Within six months, they were married and expecting a child; after two years, they were divorced after pressure from Jayesh’s parents. Jayesh returned to India and Janine was stuck with an 11 month old baby with dimples made of gold.

By the time that Jamila could remember, she was in front of a camera. Her life as a child was in front of a camera; first as the adorable adopted child in Granger vs Granger, then the youngest kid in The Elliot Show as a young child. Then from age 12 to 17, Jamila starred as Jane Lee in the Disney show, Plain Jane. School was on set. Birthdays were celebrated on set. Everything revolved around a set year round until right after Jamila’s 17th birthday.

The aftermath of that birthday was a stay in rehab, a cancelled show, and living with her dad and stepmom full time in Atlanta.

Jamila promptly deleted all the messages and voicemails before going on online banking. After authorizing a transfer to Janine’s account, Jamila showered, put on pajamas, and grabbed her pink Lepidolite and pink quartz crystals. Sitting cross legged, Jamila worked to calm her anxiety so that she could have a restful night sleep.

But in her dreams, she tried to focus on a pair of blue eyes and a lumberjack look. However, she kept dreaming of a pair of deep obsidian brown eyes, a crooked smile, and a deep voice telling her everything he was going to do to her

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Our Story - Prologue

theA/N: My first Chris Evans series. This is just a fluffy little series that has been floating around in my brain for a while, and because I've recently fallen head first into the Chris trashcan, I figured he’d be the perfect person for this little love story AU. I mean absolutely no disrespect with this, it's just a work of fiction. I also want to give a huge thank you to @percywinchester27​ and @girl-next-door-writes​ for being my betas for this story. You are both amazing and I'm so grateful for your help on this. 

Chapter: One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (unfortunately no Chris in this part) 

Warnings: Absolutely none. 

Wordcount: 1850

Four weeks after my twentieth birthday, I left my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia, and pointed my nose towards New York. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed already, but my twenty-eighth birthday approached in large strides to remind me of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. New York City was a stark contrast to Savannah, the city that never sleeps VS the most charming city in America. When I first moved here, it was my intention to stay for only a year, then I would be back in Savannah with my family and the man that I loved so deeply, Josh. 

However, life never really turns out how you intend it to, no matter how much you plan for your future. Josh and I used to talk at length about our future together, and I honestly couldn't wait to get started on it all, house, careers, and then a family of our own at some point. Then, after eight or so months of long-distance we finally broke and admitted to ourselves that it was just too hard. I know you might think that since we had stuck it out for that long, we surely could manage a few more months, but by then I had been asked to stay on in what was supposed to be a temporary position, and I had fallen in love, not only with the city, but with my work. I asked Josh to come to me, told him we could find ourselves a little apartment in Queens, or the East Village, something we could afford, and we could spend a few years together here before moving back home to start a family. I guess you’ve already figured it didn't turn out that way, and it ended, as long-distance relationships often do, in heartbreak. It was my first real heartbreak- amicable, civil, and soul-crushing. It was also then I realized, as we all, unfortunately, do at some point in our lives, that love does not, in fact, conquer all. 

If I'm being completely honest, I knew within my first month in this magical city that I would never want to leave, and after things ended with Josh, I felt as though I had deceived him in some cruel, unintentional way. Every conversation we had, had after that had been filled with lies and promises I never intended to keep. I had fooled myself as much as I had fooled him. After our break up, although completely heartbroken, I felt free and unburdened, which strangely made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Our love didn't end in some big blowout argument, or because we didn't want to be with one another. It ended because of the thousands of miles that separated us, and because in the months we spent apart, I changed in a way that could not have been foreseen. Never did I imagine myself in a big and busy city, but as I said, New York and me, it was love at first sight. 

You might be wondering what job took me from my safe and comfortable life in Georgia, thinking that it must have been some grand, once in a lifetime thing. It was not. It was a temporary job as a personal assistant. I found it as I sat by my computer one night, daydreaming about what kind of life I would live if I had all the money in the world, what life Josh and I could create for ourselves. That's when I came across the ad. A woman, Mrs. Wallace, needed an assistant. She was a very wealthy woman in need of someone to keep track of her very busy social calendar, amongst other things. I knew she was wealthy because she lived on Fifth Avenue, not that I had ever been to New York and really knew what that entailed, but I had seen movies and read books placed in the city and knew very well that Fifth Avenue was a very expensive street. There was little to no description of the job or what Mrs. Wallace was looking for in an assistant, other than that they had to be organized and were able to juggle multiple things at once. Beyond that it really came down to compatibility. I was nothing if not organized, so before I knew it, I had compiled an application letter and sent to her email. I told no one about this, because it was ridiculous for me to think I'd even get a reply back. In all honesty, it had all been forgotten by the next morning, and I didn't think of it again until three days later when, at dinner with Josh I might add, I got an answer. She would like for us to meet. We sent a couple of emails back and forth where I tried to, as politely as possible, explain that I did not have the means to travel to New York just for an interview. I stated that I appreciated her interest, and apologized profusely for not being able to make it out there. It was then she asked for my details, and about fifteen minutes later I got a confirmation from American Airlines that my ticket had been booked and paid for. Two days later I was sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace at a restaurant that I would never be able to afford, listening to her talk about the job I had applied for and what she expected of me. 

The very first thing that struck me about Mrs. Wallace was her age. For some reason, I had imagined someone in their fifties, full of botox, fillers, and whatever else middle-aged women put into their faces to look younger, but Mrs. Wallace was not that much older than me. At the time we met, she was twenty-seven, so younger than I am now, and strikingly beautiful. Thick, black hair that looked professionally blow-dried and sculpted so that not a single strand was out of place. It draped over her shoulders in loose Hollywood style waves and stood in sharp contrast to the white blazer she wore. Her skin was olive, her eyes deep brown, and her cheekbones could probably cut glass. When you put that together with her long, model-like legs, an hourglass waistline, and a very ample bosom, the woman looked like a greek goddess. To top it all off she had a warm and kind smile, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Kate, as she insisted I call her, was far from the stuck up, nose in the sky, botox filled woman that I had imagined in my head. We hit it off, and before dessert was served, I had a job offer. 

It's hard to explain, but I felt as though I needed to take this opportunity, that this was an experience I was meant to have in some inexplicable way, and I accepted right then and there without a second thought, or even a conversation with my family or boyfriend. Josh was angry with me at first, but supportive, so two weeks later I stood in front of 1040 Fifth Avenue and looked up at the towering building with its limestone and intricate carvings here and there. Kate greeted me at the front door as I stepped out of the car that she had sent to pick me up from the airport. This place even had a porte-cochere to protect the residents from rain as they walked from the door to their private chauffeur-driven vehicles. I would be staying here with the Wallace family, in the staff quarters with the rest of the staff of course, so that I could be available to Kate at all times. And that's how my New York adventure started. 

Eight years later, I am still working for Kate, still living in my little room in the staff quarters, but I love it. I have a little bathroom and everything I need. Food is prepared for us all by the cook, Rosalia. She is a little, plump woman in her mid-fifties, kind and compassionate, not to mention deeply passionate about the food she prepared for the whole household. Along with me and Rosalia, the other staff in our quarters are Magdalena, the housekeeper, and Mitch, who is Mr Wallace’s assistant. There was more staff, of course, like the private chauffeur’s, who didn't live on-site and throughout any given day, people would be in and out of the place like it was a busy office space as opposed to the home that it actually is. 

Now, Mr Wallace was a very busy man, working non-stop whether it be at his office, or at his home office. It seemed as whenever I saw him, he was walking in fast strides, either on the phone, or confirming things with Mitch who half sprinted behind him with his I-pad, trying not to trip over anything as he tried to keep up and take down notes at the same time. Henry, that was Mr Wallace’s first name, was a little older than Kate, not so much that you could accuse her of being a gold digger, but he was approaching his fifties now. He didn't look it though, he was a very handsome man, and kind. Imagine George Clooney, a man that just seems to get more gorgeous with every passing year. Kate and Henry were busy, always had their hands full with whatever it was, but somehow they always found time to share a meal together every day. Even if it meant having Rosalia heat up some leftovers for them at midnight. They were very much in love, and it was clear in the way they looked at one another, and how they always made sure to have that little moment to themselves every day. A couple of years ago, Kate had confided in me that she could not have children of her own, it was something that had weighed on her since she was only sixteen years old, but with Henry, she said, ‘I have all I need with that man, all the love I could ever wish for.’ It was a shame really, because I knew that Kate would have made an amazing mother, and Henry a great dad. ‘I'm alright,’ she had assured me. ‘I've come to peace with it, and learned not to dwell on something that will never be.’ 

So, that's the short version of how I ended up here, doing a job I adored in a city I loved with all my heart, so I think it's about time we move forward. Jump to the part where my real story starts. Spoiler alert; it involves a warm summer day in Central Park, a ruined dress, and an extremely handsome man named Chris. 

******

If you liked what you read, how about slamming that reblog button and help spread my work? If you leave a little comment on top of that, you’ll be in my heart forever. 

Want a tag? I got you!! Just send me an ASK and I'll add you. 

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

[fruitcoops]

Hello! I truly love your writing! Would you consider a continuation of that piece where Jules stays with coops for a week? Or just some snippets of what they get up to?

Here’s part 1, folks! It’s about 3k words and I’m thinking there will be three or four parts total, released over the next couple days. I hope you enjoy it!

Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Jules.” A series of gentle knocks echoed down the stairs and Sirius smiled into his coffee cup. “Jules, it’s time to wake up.”

Regulus snorted. “Bet you five bucks he has to drag the kid down.”

“Deal.”

“Jules.” Remus knocked again, sounding more exasperated. There was a heavy sigh and the door clicked open; after a moment of quiet, someone yelped. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Go away!” Jules groaned. “An’ give it back!”

“It’s time for breakfast, get a wiggle on. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“I’m cold.” More rustling noises followed before Jules appeared at the top of the staircase, bundled in Remus’ sweatshirt—which was really Sirius’, but it didn’t matter—and scowling. His bedhead was outstanding.

“Bon matin,” Sirius said with a smile when Jules sat heavily in the chair next to him and put his forehead on his arms. “How’d you sleep?”

“I don’t like your fiancé.”

“Oh?”

“He’s mean.”

Sirius winked at Remus as he rolled his eyes and pulled a cereal box out of the pantry. “What did he do?”

“He stole my blankets with no warning.”

“That is such a lie,” Remus scoffed. “I knocked on your door for five whole minutes before I came in!”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” Sirius said, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Reg owes me five bucks now.”

“Sweet, we can get more Oreos.”

“Oreos aren’t on your diet plan,” Jules sulked as Remus passed him a bowl of cereal and milk.

“How do you know?”

Jules mumbled something and shoved his spoon into his mouth. The night before had been hectic, with Sirius driving the Hope and Lyall to the airport while Remus helped set Jules up for the night. Regulus came back from hanging out with Leo around ten pm; by that time, Jules was still wired for sound at the idea of a week-long sleepover. He finally went to sleep around eleven thirty and Sirius and Remus crash-landed into bed, exhausted.

Practice was going to be hell.

“Why do we have to wake up early, again?” Jules asked around a yawn.

Sirius ruffled his hair as he sat down again. “Practice starts at ten. Eight o’clock is not early at all.”

He squinted at him, confused. “How early do you usually wake up?”

“Seven, seven-thirty.”

Jules shuddered and turned back to his cereal while Remus plonked himself down in Sirius’ lap with a coffee cup, looking moments away from falling asleep again. “Children are exhausting. Why did we get two of them?”

“Hey!” Jules and Regulus said in unison, clearly offended.

“We’ve got terrible judgement,” Sirius laughed.

“Older brothers are the worst, right Jules?”

“Totally. Are you coming to the rink with us?”

Regulus shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, I’ve got college stuff to work on. Want to help me with paperwork?”

Jules made a face. “I’ll pass.”

“We’re leaving in forty minutes, okay?” Remus said, stretching his back as he stood up and left Sirius’ lap cold and empty. “Jules, please take a shower.”

“I smell fine!”

“You didn’t take one yesterday or the day before. Scoot.” Jules rolled his eyes and got up. “Don’t give me that look! And put your bowl in the sink.”

Sirius and Regulus shared a glance as Jules put his stuff away and trooped up the stairs. “Hi, Hope,” Regulus snickered.

Resignation overtook Remus’ face and he sighed. “Fuck. I’m turning into my mother already. Reg, you should take a shower, too.”

“I smell fine!” The withering look from both Sirius and Remus made him raise his hands in surrender and wander off to his bedroom. “I’m nineteen, not nine!”

”And yet we still need to babysit you,” Sirius called back. Finally, they were alone. He hopped up to sit on the counter and grabbed Remus around the waist as he passed by, pulling him back for a hug. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning.” Remus kissed him gently, bracketing his hips with his hands. He looked tired, but happy. “I’m actually pretty excited to have Jules stay with us. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Ne rien. It’s good to have people here.” They kissed for a moment longer, listening to the shower running upstairs and Regulus’ rummaging noises down the hall. “I swear to God, he’s like a raccoon.”

Remus laughed and leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder. “He definitely sounds like one.”

“At least his room’s clean.”

“Cheers to that. He’s heading back tomorrow, right?”

“Mhmm. Dumo’s been bugging me for, like, three days.”

Remus hummed, wrapping his arms around Sirius and snuggling into him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ve only got a little bit of time before Jules is out, so we should get dressed.”

Remus groaned, but released his limpet hold. “That was so close to a perfect sentence.”

Sirius paused just before hopping off the counter and raised his eyebrows. “If we have extra time…”

“Come on, you,” Remus laughed, tugging him off the counter by the hand and hurrying toward the stairs.

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

They arrived at the rink at 10:05, and Sirius began bracing himself for the inevitable chirping as soon as he stepped out of the car. Jules bounced on his toes in excitement as they walked toward the building, laden with their hockey gear and still a bit frazzled from the mad dash out of the house.

“Is this the munchkin?” Moody asked when Remus knocked on the door to the PT office.

“Yep.” Remus looked down at Jules, whose eyes were wide and more than a little nervous as his grip tightened on Remus’ jacket hem.

“Alastor Moody,” he grunted, holding a hand out that Jules tentatively shook.

“Jules.”

“Wanna see how bones work, kid?”

Instantly, his nerves disappeared. “Yeah!”

Moody winked at them as he led Jules toward the joint models on the far wall and Sirius let out a slow breath. “He’ll be fine.”

“God, I hope so. If anyone can drive Moody off the wall, it’ll be my little brother,” Remus murmured as they headed off down the hall.

The yelling started the second Sirius opened the locker room door. “You’re LATE!” James shouted, grinning from ear to ear. “Hand over the badge, Captain.”

“We still have fifty minutes until practice starts, shut your face.” Sirius socked him on the shoulder and set his bag in the stall.

“What, pray tell, was the reason for this tardiness?” James leaned over and batted his eyelashes.

Remus rolled up a towel and smacked him on the ass with it. “My little brother.”

“Jules is here?” Leo perked up on the other side of the room, and Sirius saw several of the guys look over in excitement, as if they were hiding him in one of their bags.

“He’s staying with us for the week since my great-aunt passed away.”

“Shit, Loops, I’m sorry.”

Remus shrugged. “I never met her, but my folks went back for the funeral. Moody said he’d keep an eye on Jules during practice.”

“Lupin, Black, you’re late,” Coach Weasley said from the doorway, giving them a look over his glasses. “Do we need to have a conversation?”

“No, Coach,” Sirius said as he pulled his pads over his chest.

“I hear you’ve commandeered my head PT for the day.”

Remus shook his head. “If Jules starts bugging him—”

“I’m kidding, Loops.” Arthur’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Moody loves kids. This’ll be good for his disposition.”

Finn snorted. “Can’t get any worse.”

“I expect all of you on the ice in twenty. Any stragglers are doing laps outside!” Arthur slapped the edge of the doorway before ducking out into the hall again; his sneakers squeaked on the freshly-washed floor and Sirius stifled a laugh as he finished buckling up.

The five minute delay did not have a terrible impact on his pre-practice rituals, which he took a  moment to be grateful for—they had a scrimmage planned, and he didn’t intend to lose. Once warmups were over, they moved into running plays, until finally the whistle blew and Coach called out the teams. Remus ended up on the other side and he slapped Sirius’ ass with his stick as he passed him, grinning over his shoulder before stopping next to Dumo.

Jules and Moody came out to watch a few minutes in; Sirius caught a glimpse of his wide eyes when he saw the speed of the game and smiled to himself. Everyone else seemed to notice the new arrivals as well, because their effort doubled and suddenly the plays were running smoother than ever.

Showing off for a ten-year-old, he thought with a shake of his head. Talk about baby fever.

Remus sped through the defense, weaving back and forth until he was nearly face-to-face with Sirius. His whole face lit up and he braced; when Sirius went to check him, he dipped sideways at the last second and slipped the puck right through his skates, catching it on the other side and zipping toward the goal at top speed. The goal light went off and Talker whooped, checking him in celebration.

“Lupin! Where’s that been all season?” Arthur demanded, though he was laughing. “Christ, guys, thanks for finally waking up!”

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” Sirius asked as they headed back for the face-off.

“You think you’re the only one who skates in the basement?” Remus said with a cheeky grin.

The whole rink buzzed with energy throughout the rest of the scrimmage—once or twice, Sirius realized even he was showing off a little for Jules, who cheered louder than fifteen thousand fans whenever someone scored.

Arthur shook his head when the final whistle went off. “Everyone say ‘thank you’ to Julian.”

“Thank you, Jules,” they chorused. Jules looked like he was about to die of happiness.

“I need to get him in here more often,” Arthur muttered as they headed to the locker room to change into their gym gear. “Let’s get that energy for every practice, okay? Not just the ones with Little Loops.”

“What are you talking about?” Kasey laughed.

Arthur fixed him with a look. “Don’t bullshit me, Winter, all of you were showing off for the kid.”

Remus blushed all the way to his ears, and the rest of them mumbled some half-assed excuses until they were shooed away. “I put the new schedule on the mirror,” Sirius called over the noise. “Try to pay attention to it for once.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Logan reached up and patted him on the shoulder as he passed; Sirius dragged him back into a headlock to ruffle his hair. “Ow, fuck, okay!”

Logan did not, in fact, stick to the schedule. He was far too busy tossing the lightest medicine ball they had with Jules, who staggered slightly whenever he caught it. Both looked absolutely thrilled.

Sirius, on the other hand, was glad for the opportunity to do a fair bit of ogling while he spotted Remus—who stuck to the schedule, Sirius had never loved him more—until he finished his bench-pressing rotation. He was strong before being a player, but now…well, it was safe to say he could sweep Sirius off his feet literally and figuratively.

“Re, Re!” Jules ran over when Remus finally sat up, then paused and made a face. “You’re sweaty.”

Remus pulled him in for a hug, making him shriek and wiggle to get out. “I am, yeah! Isn’t it great? Here, lemme just—”

Jules flailed, but he couldn’t get out of Remus’ hold in time to avoid the head nuzzle that plastered his hair up on one side with sweat as the guys laughed. “Ewww!”

“Did you need something, buddy?” Remus asked at last.

“Well, now I need a shower.” Jules grimaced. “I was going to ask if you guys actually do ice baths.”

“Of course we do!” Kasey cut in before Remus could quickly divert the topic. “And your brother loves them.”

Sirius had to turn around to muffle his laughter as interest lit on Jules’ face. “Really? Can I see?”

Kasey opened the door dramatically. “Right this way, Little Loops.”

Two of the ice baths were full when they arrived and Sirius did not miss the pained look on Remus’ face at the sight, nor did he miss the devious smile on Kasey’s. Jules hurried over to one and looked over the end, practically sticking his whole face in. “Woah.”

“Pretty cool, huh? You want to know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“Oh, Christ,” Remus muttered.

“Loops, will you do the honors and make sure your darling little brother has a good time?” Kasey asked, the picture of innocence. Remus sighed and stood next to the ice bath, silently begging Sirius for help with his eyes as Kasey motioned Jules over. “Alright, so you take one of these, and then you have to be super careful as you aim. Lucky for you, you’re learning from the best.”

Remus winced as the first ice cube smacked him in the side of the head and gritted his teeth as the second went down the neck of his t-shirt. Sirius schooled his expression into the mildest, sweetest smile he could muster. “He’s not doing anything,” Jules whispered. Remus began taking deep breaths.

“He will.”

“Try me, Wint—oh, sh—” Remus muffled a squeak as ice went directly down his spine. “Hoo, boy, that’s cold.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you censor yourself,” Kasey said, amazed. “It’s uncanny.”

“Are you done?”

“I could do this all day, but it’s my turn to make dinner tonight and Nat gets hangry if I’m late. Good game, Little Loops.” Kasey and Jules high-fived and Remus shook his shirt out; no less than four ice cubes clattered to the ground.

“Young man, you are in such big trouble,” Remus growled playfully as he swept Jules over his shoulder and began tickling his knees. Sirius dodged the squirming legs and held the door open for them as they walked back into the hallway. “You’re okay hanging out with Moody while we get our stuff together, right?”

“Yeah! He’s got the coolest knee statues.”

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

Dinner was anything but a quiet affair; all three of them had taken a nap when they got home, then had a dance party in the kitchen while Remus taught Jules how to actually cook chicken so nobody got food poisoning. Sirius was torn between begging them for the details of that particular story and wanting to stay as far away from it as possible.

Regulus and Jules got into a fierce game of footsie under the table that only ended when a small foot—he still didn’t know which one it was—slammed into the base of Sirius’ knee, hard enough that it would certainly leave a bruise. “Ow.”

They both froze, shared a look, then silently went back to eating. “Practice starts at nine tomorrow,” Remus said around a bite of broccoli. “That means wake up time is six thirty, okay? We’ve got a game on Thursday and it’s super important that we’re not late again. Reg, what time are you heading out?”

“I was thinking noon-ish? That way I can get my stuff set up while Dumo’s still at practice. Don’t want to bother him.”

Jules turned to him with the biggest, saddest eyes Sirius had ever seen. “You’re leaving?”

“I live with Dumo, remember?” Regulus hesitated. “I’ll be at the game, though.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Absolutely.”

That seemed to placate him, and he turned back to his chicken happily. Sirius nudged his brother, giving him a significant look, which was met with an eye roll that couldn’t quite cover the fond flush on his face.

Jules and Regulus took care of the dishes after dinner and Sirius stretched out on the couch to the sounds of the kid’s excited chatter as he recounted the day’s events. Remus flopped down on top of him, settling between his thighs with a contented smile. “Today went well.”

“Yeah, it did.” Sirius began running his fingers through Remus’ soft hair. “I think Moody is about thirty seconds away from adopting him.”

Remus laughed against his chest. “I think so. It’s pretty cool seeing him so excited about PT stuff.”

“It is.” There was a slow sigh and Sirius raised his eyebrows. “What was that about?”

“I just realized that even though Reg is leaving tomorrow, we won’t have the house to ourselves for six more days. It’s been two weeks.”

Sirius closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the armrest. “Fuck. I didn’t even think about that. Think we can dump him on Dumo for a night?”

“We can handle six days, right?”

“Yeah, totally.”

There was a beat of silence. “This is going to be difficult.”

“If we make it to the three-day mark, I say we break open the Oreos as a reward.”

“Sounds good to me—oof.”

They both groaned as an extra hundred pounds of person squished on top of them. “Dishes are done!” Jules chirped.

“Did you wash your hands?” Sirius wheezed, blinking the dark spots out of his vision. Remus’ chin was digging into his upper ribs.

“Yep! Regulus wants to watch a movie. I think we should watch Jurassic Park, but he says it’s terrible—”

“He what?” Remus raised his head slightly and craned his neck to look back at the kitchen. “Regulus!”

“What?”

“You don’t like Jurassic Park? I thought you had taste!” Remus pushed off the couch and Jules wrapped all his limbs around him like an oversized koala. “We’re watching it tonight and you’re going to like it. Come on, baby, we need to make sure your brother has culture.”

Two hours later, as the credits rolled and three people snored gently, Sirius smiled to himself. He could handle a week of this.

[benedictsvestcollection]

Toepick!

Bucky Barnes x female reader AU

Summary: Bucky’s a hockey player turned pairs figure skater partner for reader who’s kind of a pain in the ass. (aka this is a Cutting Edge AU if anyone’s seen the movie)

Chapter warnings: Cursing, mentions of hockey violence, reader is a brat, Bucky is a sarcastic asshole (just like in the show!)

Author note: Unbetaed chapter, I don’t have a taglist for Bucky fics but send me a DM or ask if you want to be added to it I’ll make a taglist for my Bucky fics! Please reblog this and tell me what you think in my askbox! 

Also thanks to @pisss-offf-ghostt​ for her hockey insight b/c I don’t know shit about hockey.

Chapter One

Bucky Barnes sat in a doctor’s office, two weeks after taking a puck to the face in a Winter Olympic game. It had hit him way too close to his eye and Coach Pierce had benched him the rest of the Games. 

What’s worse is that it was his own fucking teammate who’d given him the injury. Brock Rumlow, their Enforcer, had always had it out for Bucky. God knows why, but maybe Rumlow had never forgiven his NHL team for beating theirs in the playoffs the year before. Or that Bucky had scored the winning goal of that same game. 

Steve and Sam had always said Rumlow was a bad apple in the NHL and his Olympic spirit sucked too it seemed. So now, he was waiting on news from the doctor, telling him when he could start training for the next NHL season.

The doctor entered the room with Bucky’s file. “Well, doc? When can I get back on the ice?” He asked. 

The doctor frowned at him and put his x-ray up on the lighted board to show him. “Son, I’m afraid you won’t be able to play hockey anymore.” He told him frankly. “You took quite a hit to your occipital bone and it hindered 80% of your peripheral vision in your right eye.” 

“What?” He asked, unsure if he heard him right. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go into retirement from hockey.” He told him, looking at the man with sympathetic eyes. He was a great player, had a lot of years left in him. He had watched that game, this wasn’t his fault.

Bucky sat there, shell shocked for several moments before slowly rising and putting his coat on. “Thanks doc.” He muttered before finally leaving the office and building. Fucking Brock Rumlow. He had seen the smirk on his lips after he’d opened his eyes from taking the hit to his face. 

He pulled out his phone and dialed Steve’s number. “Hey, meet me at the usual place?” 

“Everything okay Buck?” He’d asked his childhood best friend and now teammate.

“Just… I’ll tell you at the bar.” He growled out and then made his way to their favorite haunt. “Call Sam. I have news.” 

Thirty minutes later, Bucky was nursing a beer at their favorite New York bar. Sam and Steve stared at him, shocked. “So what, now you have to retire? That’s bullshit man.” Sam shook his head. 

“You think I don’t know that?” Bucky growled at his teammate. “My publicist wants to make an announcement soon.” He told them. “But I told her to hold off. I want some time to just… Absorb this.” He ran his hand through his hair frustratingly. 

Bucky loved skating, how could he give it up? And Brock Rumlow gets to just keep playing? What a load of bullshit. 

“Rumlow should be fined for that shit he pulled on you at the Games.” Steve shook his head. 

“You really think being fined is what he deserves? Everyone knows it was a dirty move but Pierce is his coach in the NHL, he’s not gonna do shit about it.” Sam reminded Steve. 

It was true, even the announcers had called it a dirty shot, and everyone who followed the NHL knew that Brock Rumlow had it out for Bucky Barnes. But Rumlow was Pierce’s guy and he wasn’t going to do anything to his player to jeopardize the next season of the NHL. 

“Speak of the devil.” Sam whistled out and Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Rumlow entering the bar with his flavor of the month on his arm. Some up and coming model or something. Not that any of them kept track anymore of them. 

“Hey boys! How’s the post-Olympics life treating you? As good as me?” He winked at his newest companion. “She’s a model.” 

“Shocking.” Sam snorted from behind his beer. Smirking when Rumlow shot him a dirty look. 

“So Barnes, how’s the eye?” Rumlow asked him casually, as if he hadn’t given him the very injury that now forced Bucky into early retirement.

Bucky’s grip tightened on his bottle. “It’s fine.” He ground out and gave him a hardened stare. It was true, physically he felt fine. But, he was about two seconds away from beating Rumlow to a pulp though. Hell, Steve and Sam would probably help him if he asked. But he also didn’t want any added press than the impending ‘early retirement’ announcement in the coming days. 

“Look man, sorry about that. Guess the puck just got away from my stick, you know?” He said easily. 

Holy shit, he was really just going to pretend it wasn’t his fault? Guess he shouldn’t be surprised. 

“Yeah, you seemed real torn up about it.” Steve snapped at him. “The whole hockey world knows you have it out for Buck.” All four men, stood. All imposing figures as hockey players. “And everyone knows that was a dirty shot you took. The Olympics are supposed to be about coming together but you just used it for your own personal gain. You’re a disgrace.” Steve told him. 

“You letting your pals stand up for you Barnes? What’s the matter? Too chicken shit to say anything yourself?” Rumlow taunted him. 

Bucky stepped closer to him, almost chest to chest with the Enforcer. “Nope, I just know you’re not worth my time. You never have been, not even on the ice.” After several tense moments, Bucky finally stepped back. “I gotta go. I have a call to make. I’ll talk to you two later.” He looked at Sam and Steve before leaving some bills on the table for his beers and he purposely bumped into Rumlow before leaving the bar. 

Once he was safely in his Brooklyn apartment, he called his publicist. “Mel? Hey, let’s just…. Make an announcement. Tomorrow. Just get it over with.” He told her. “There’s no point in delaying it.” 

“Sure thing, we’ll just say you’re mulling over your post-hockey playing options. Maybe take a year off and figure out what you want. Book deals, coaching job, hell even a sports commentator.” 

“Yeah. I’ll think about it, Mel. Thanks.” He hung up and tossed his phone on the counter and sighed. 

Fucking Brock Rumlow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What part of locked arms don’t you fucking get?” You snapped at your latest partner ‘audition’ as you got up off your ass from being dropped again. “Where in the hell are you finding these idiots Maria?” You snapped at your coach as you skated away from the latest guy. “You’d think none of them knew a simple lift.” 

Maria Hill, your coach for several years now was at the end of her rope. You’d rejected partner after partner for the past month and a half after you’d parted ways with your Olympic partner, from a disastrous showing at the Winter Olympics. 

“Probably doesn’t help that you berate them before they even get their skates on.” She called from the side of the rink as Tony Stark, your guardian since you were fifteen years old (although you were in your twenties now and didn’t need a guardian anymore) and practically your big brother, entered with his five year old daughter Morgan in his arms. 

“How’s it going?” He asked. 

“You’re insane.” Your latest pairs auditioner told you as he hastily removed his skates and shoved his feet in his sneakers and grabbed his bag. “Good luck finding someone willing to put up with the ice princess.” He snorted and left. 

“That good huh?” Tony asked with a sigh and watched you skate around the private ice rink on their property. 

“I can’t help that they’re all idiots.” You told him and Maria sighed, rubbing her temples as Morgan giggled at your comment. 

“You know, unless you work with any of these guys and Maria. You’re going to have to go to singles skating.” Tony warned you, knowing you hated singles skating. It always felt too lonely for you out on the ice alone. You had trust issues since you were a kid. Which was a double edged sword because you also had trouble trusting partners to not let you down. 

“Alright, let’s just call it for the day. I have some calls to make for some more options.” Maria told you as you continued to skate. She turned to Tony. “Talk some sense into her. I don’t have many options left.” She muttered and then left. 

Morgan sat at the edge of the rink putting her skates on to get ready for her private lesson. “Ice Princess, come on… Work with me.” Tony called to you. 

You shot him a glare at the nickname but skated over to him, stopping promptly and showering his legs with ice. “Yes?” You asked him innocently. 

“Don’t give me that shit. What’s your deal? You’ve rejected nearly eight perfectly good skaters in the past almost two months. And always over stupid shit.” He told you. “They’re either not strong enough, not fast enough, not graceful enough. None of which have been true.” 

You wanted to curse back at him but knew Morgan was beginning to repeat everything and Tony was being hushed and you really didn’t want to hear Pepper ask why Morgan learned a new curse word from you. “I’m just particular, that’s all.” You defended yourself. 

“Is that the word we’re using?” He snorted at you. “I know you have trust issues because of what happened. But you can’t keep using that excuse for skating. Not all those men are going to let you down. But they will if they pick up on your attitude and tension. You need to start giving some of them an actual chance.” He glanced over at Morgan who was starting to warm up on the ice before her lesson. “Just… Think about it, okay? And you’ll bring Morgan to the house after her lesson?”

You sighed and nodded at him. “Yeah okay, fine. I’ll think about it. And yes, I’ll stay here during her lesson.” You promised as you got off the ice and changed shoes while Morgan started her lesson. 

“Thank you. Dinner’s at six.” He reminded you and kissed Morgan goodbye before leaving for a meeting. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maria Hill was looking over all the options she had on her desk. None of them would be able to take any of the shit that you were dishing out. She needed someone who could dish it right back to you and who could skate. “Jesus this is a nightmare.” She muttered to herself. 

“Might have a suggestion for you if you’re interested in hearing it and going to meet with him.” Nick Fury’s voice came from her office door. Nick was the trainer for you. Responsible for keeping you in shape and healthy. 

“Yeah?” She asked him curiously and leaned back in her chair. 

Nick walked over to the television and turned it on, turning it to the sports network talking about Bucky Barnes’ retirement and what his options were now. The news had been out for a week now and everyone was speculating what he was going to do now. 

“Barnes? You expect me to get a hockey player to be her new partner and not have her throw another fit?” She asked incredulously. 

“Hear me out Hill.” Fury told her and sat across from her. “He’s strong, a phenomenal skater. Actually graceful even in hockey. And, he won’t take any of her shit lying down. Everything else, you can teach him.” He mused with a shrug. “Besides, rumor has it that he wants to keep skating. Sure, this ain’t hockey but it’s better than nothing.” 

Nick had made several good points. He was a great skater. And he was disciplined. It meant that he would stick to any regime of training and skating they threw at him. 

“She won’t like this.” She told him bluntly. 

“Does she like anything anyway?” He countered with a snort.

He had a point. You hadn’t liked any of the partners they’d brought you till now. So throwing Barnes into the mix wasn’t going to make it much worse. 

“Fine. Let’s go talk to him.” She relented.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You want me to what?” Bucky asked Maria and Nick. The two of them sat across from him in his Brooklyn apartment. Staring at them incredulously. 

“We heard you wanted to keep skating. And while this isn’t hockey, we’re training someone who wants Olympic gold just as much as you do.” Maria told him. “I’ve seen you skate. You’re talented as hell and strong.” 

Bucky looked back and forth between the two of them, expecting this to be some kind of joke. “What’s the catch?” 

“No catch. You’ll be paid, there’s a guest house at the Stark estate for you if the audition goes well. So you can live and train and not have to commute. You’ll be well paid.” Nick told him as he casually leaned back in his seat. 

Bucky snorted. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know that there’s always a catch.” 

Maria and Nick exchanged looks before looking back at him. “She can be… Difficult to get along with.” She told him carefully. 

“So she’s a pain in the ass.” He clarified flatly and snorted again. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a pain in the ass on my team.” He muttered to himself. 

“So you’ll come try out?” Maria asked him curiously. “Look, I know you don’t take any shit from anyone. So you and her might work because you can dish it out. You won’t put up with her attitude.” She explained. 

Bucky considered his options. He didn’t want to stop skating. And it’s not like there were any open coaching positions currently. And he sure as shit didn’t want to write a memoir or work for ESPN while all his buddies were still skating. This was something for him. Plus he’d get to work with some hot girl instead of staring at Rumlow’s ugly face everywhere he went. 

“When’s the tryout?” He finally asked.

Bucky Barnes’ fic taglist: @pisss-offf-ghostt​ 

[chicgeekgirl89]

Puzzles and Limes and Family Times

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Summary: Parenting kids is tough. Growing up and parenting your parents is even harder. Luckily T.K. and Carlos have each other to help figure things out. A post-ep for 2x11 "Slow Burn." Thanks to @bluenet13 for the help with the spicy food stuff and for inspiring what will likely be a prequel. And for just generally always being a supportive friend! 

                                   XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“How about a book?” Carlos asked.

T.K. shook his head. “He has books. I want something different. Something that will really distract him.”

“I still think a couple DVD’s might do the trick,” Carlos told him. 

“He has every streaming service known to man. If he can’t find it on one of those, it’s probably not worth watching.”

“T.K. as nice as it is that you want to get your dad a gift for his surgery, maybe we should think about it a little more since you don’t seem to know what you want.”

They’d circled the aisles of Target more than once, T.K. turning down every one of Carlos’ suggestions. “I just want something that’s going to keep him busy,” T.K. said. “He’s terrible at sitting still. I’m afraid if we don’t do something he’ll try and run a half marathon three days after surgery and kill himself.”

“Babe I don’t think there’s anything in the world that’s going to keep your dad recovering the way you want,” Carlos said. “He’s kind of a strong willed guy.”

T.K. sighed and turned the cart into the next aisle. “I know. I know, I just have to at least try.” He paused and grabbed a box off the nearest shelf. “What about this?”

Carlos raised his eyebrows. “A puzzle? Your dad doesn’t strike me as someone with the patience for puzzles.”

“Exactly. Maybe this will help him learn some. And,” T.K. tapped the box for emphasis, “this one has dogs playing poker on it. He loves dogs and poker.”

“That is true,” Carlos said, keeping his tone even and his expression neutral.

T.K. shot him a look of fond exasperation. “I know you’re humoring me but I’m going to pretend that was genuine.”

“And now you can humor me by picking out new towels,” Carlos said with a grin.

T.K. groaned. “I thought we already picked new towels.”

“We picked new master bath towels. We need some to match the guest bath.” Carlos grabbed his hand, towing him along toward the home goods aisles. 

“I didn’t realize you were going to use my moving in as an excuse to redecorate the entire condo,” T.K. said.

“I want it to feel like our place.” Carlos stopped and picked up a washcloth. “How do we feel about cream?”

“I feel like towels are towels. Especially in the guest bath.”

Carlos rolled his eyes and moved further down the row. “We have guests coming next week. Everything needs to be perfect.”

“Speaking of which, are you sure you want to invite my dad to dinner with your parents?” T.K. asked as Carlos silently debated the merits of blue versus off-white towels. 

Carlos looked at him in surprise. “He’s your dad. Of course I want him there.”

“It’s just…he can be…a lot sometimes,” T.K. said. 

Carlos raised his eyebrows and T.K. held up a finger in warning. “If you say I’m also a lot sometimes I’m taking the keys and leaving you here to Uber home.”

His boyfriend smiled and turned back to the towels. “My parents want to meet him. And your dad is very charming.” He looked at T.K., eyes sparkling with mirth. “Just like you.”

Now it was T.K.’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Besides,” Carlos said, dropping the blue towels into the cart, “having your dad there will take some of the attention off of me so my mom doesn’t tell every, single embarrassing story about my childhood. Instead your dad and my dad can try to one-up each other talking about crazy calls they’ve been on.”

T.K. wasn’t convinced yet. “He’s just really not been himself lately. And I have no idea what his mood is going to be like post-surgery. I don’t want him to leave a bad impression with your parents.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, it would be good for your dad to get out of the house. Be around family.”

T.K. sighed. “I guess at least if he’s with us I’ll know he’s safe. And it will give him something to do to keep his mind off how bored he is.”

“I thought that was what the puzzle was for,” Carlos said with a teasing grin as they walked toward the checkout.

T.K. sent him a withering look. “Just let me pretend it’s going to work and not sit on a shelf in the closet until the next time he has a garage sale. It makes me feel better.”

Carlos nudged him good-naturedly. “I will let you keep your delusion.” He stopped pushing the cart and leaned against the handle. “But it’s going to cost you.”

T.K. took a step closer and bit his lip. “Oh is it?” he asked, wondering exactly how randy Carlos was going to get in the kitchen appliance aisle. 

“Yep.” Carlos grinned. “We’re having camarones a la diabla for dinner tonight.”

T.K.’s face fell. “What? No! Come on I already looked at towels with you!”

Carlos just smiled and sauntered away with the cart, leaving T.K. alone in the middle of the aisle to hurry after him. “Okay but only a little spicy all right? Not ‘accidentally almost kill T.K. spicy’ like last time?”

“That was your own fault and you know it,” Carlos called back.

T.K. huffed. “That’s exactly why we don’t need a repeat!”

Carlos stopped and let him catch up. “If we’re going to live together we have to build up your tolerance to heat. Don’t worry,” he said, patting T.K.’s cheek, “I’ll be gentle.”

T.K. eyed him warily. “Nice try Reyes. I know behind that smile is a conniving, spice loving, diabolical monster.”

“What if I promise you homemade ice cream for dessert?”

“What because I’m a five-year-old and can be bribed to eat my dinner?” T.K. asked.

Carlos cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” T.K. said grudgingly. “But I want chocolate.”

“Then chocolate it is.”

                                XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. had never seen his boyfriend panicked before. Upset yes, excited for sure, but the most emotionally intense his mild mannered boyfriend typically got was moderately annoyed. Tonight however, he seemed like he might actually be about to lose his shit. And as intrigued as T.K. was to see where that might lead, a little voice in his head reminded him that Carlos losing his shit five minutes before his parents were due to arrive was probably not going to leave a favorable impression.

“Where are the tortilla chips?” Carlos asked, his voice sharp and pitched a note or two higher than usual. “I thought you picked them up on your way home today.”

“Right here,” T.K. said smoothly, opening the cupboard and pulling out the bag of homemade chips he’d purchased from a favorite restaurant down the street.

“And you told them to make the guacamole fresh right?”

“Yes, I stood there for fifteen minutes while the guy went out and hand picked the avocados,” T.K. said, trying not to let too much amusement color his tone.

Over the last few days the tension in their home seemed to have changed direction. As T.K. had grown more comfortable with the idea of his dad coming for dinner, (despite the one minor, running into a burning building incident that T.K. was trying not to think about) Carlos had gotten increasingly tense. 

The condo, always in a state of near perfect cleanliness now sparkled like something out of a magazine. And the list of instructions Carlos had left for T.K. to complete after his shift had been so detailed and exact that T.K. wondered if he’d stayed up all night writing it. Personally he thought that doing a deep clean of the refrigerator and painting over scuffs on the baseboards was a little bit of overkill, but he’d done as asked. Now, as he watched his boyfriend dart from one side of the kitchen to the other in a slightly manic state, he was wondering if he might need to intervene. 

Carlos pushed past him to take the perfectly made guacamole out and put it in a bowl. “Did you put a clean hand towel in the bathroom? The blue one?”

“Blue? I thought you said black.”

Carlos froze and glowered at him. “I’m kidding,” T.K. said, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Blue towel is freshly laundered and in the bathroom. I’m not sure exactly how the color of a hand towel could ruin the evening but I certainly didn’t want to risk finding out.”

Carlos’ face dropped a bit, emotional exhaustion pulling at him. “I know I’m being crazy.”

“Oh I think we surpassed crazy about two hours ago when you were picking individual pieces of lint off the throw pillows,” T.K. said with an amused smile. “Relax. Tonight is going to be great. You’re making a damn soufflé. How could anyone not be impressed by that?”

“Maybe I should have gone with something more traditional,” Carlos said, running an agitated hand through his curls for the hundredth time that evening. “My parents are traditional people. But your dad is coming so I wanted to pull out all the stops.” He peered through the oven door at the soufflé. “Maybe I should have done the beef. I’m going to take it out just in case.”

“Carlos, Carlos whoa, hey,” T.K. stopped him by putting his hands on his shoulders. “The soufflé is going to be great. Everyone is going to love it. Do not take that beef out of the refrigerator.”

Carlos’ eyes widened. “Oh my god I forgot to put the ice trays in the freezer!”

“Whoa, hey, nope,” T.K. held on a little tighter and didn’t let him go. “You asked me to do that this morning. Let’s just go sit for a minute—“

“I need to—“

“What you need to do is take a few deep breaths and get yourself together,” T.K. told him, pushing him gently onto a bar stool.

“I just want it to be perfect.”

“Babe I know. But it’s not going to be. Nothing ever is, so you need to let got of that expectation. It will be a great dinner because everyone who’s coming loves you and wants you to be happy.”

Carlos slumped a bit, mussing his curls a little more with his hands. “I’m nervous.”

“I know. But I’m going to be right beside you the whole night. And nothing your parents say is going to make me upset. Or want to leave.” T.K. leaned a little closer as Carlos deliberately avoided making eye contact. “That’s what you’re really worried about right? Not that they’ll say something to make you upset, but that they might hurt me?”

Carlos chewed at the inside of his lip and covered T.K.’s hands with his own, twining their fingers together nervously. “They just might not be as careful with their words as I want them to be. Sometimes they speak without thinking. They have old biases, things from church and the family…”

T.K. brought one of Carlos’ hands up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “I know the difference between willful hate and accidental ignorance. I’m not worried.” He ran a hand through Carlos’ hair, fixing some of the damage he’d done to himself. “And nothing, not even rude parents or a fallen soufflé, would ever make me want to leave you.”

T.K. watched as some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. “I love you,” Carlos said quietly.

“I love you too,” T.K. said, squeezing his hand.

There was a knock on the door and Carlos sucked in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

T.K. leaned forward so their lips met in a sweet kiss. “Absolutely.”

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 25 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: The communities are on alert as Negan goes missing and Alpha remains quiet. As the reader is dealing with the love of their life disappearing again, Negan finds company on the road.

Word Count: 5413

Warning: Swearing, Graphic Depiction of Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Wicked Game” by James Vincent McMorrow

Note: We begin with the reader’s POV, but we focus on Negan for the rest of it. Reminder, I will be changing things from canon with the rest of these chapters. all official dialog is property of AMC. 

--------

One Week Earlier…

“You know, I once knew a woman who could swallow a sword,” you said, examining your own blade in the low light of the cell. “I think in another life, I could do it.”

“Let’s not try tonight, okay?” Negan said, lowering the blade with his fingertips as he sipped from the clear jar you had brought him.

There was too much drama going on at the moment with Alpha, her Walkers, and of course, just trying to stay sane in all of it. Nevertheless, you still found time to indulge in the man that you loved. 

Showing up at his cell once it became dark was a normal thing, but the jar of moonshine that you had brought along with you was a change. A very welcomed one at that. You and Negan now sat on the floor of the cell, your backs against the cot, basking in the alcohol as it warmed your veins. 

“I still think this shit is highly dangerous,” Negan said, passing you the jar back. 

“It’s flammable too,” you said with a small laugh as you leaned against him. “Learned that the hard way.”

“Do tell,” he urged and you sunk further into him, getting comfortable. Negan slung an arm around you, keeping you close. 

“Eugene used to keep it outside of Alexandria in an old electrical box thing,” you explained, trying not to slur your words. “One day, he asked me if I would help him move some of it to Hilltop. I think Jesus or Alden wanted some. Anyways, us being morons, went out in a thunderstorm.”

“Which of course was not your favourite plan,” Negan said. 

“Right,” you agreed. “So, we were on our way to the place that he was holding it in when Eugene suddenly realized he had forgotten to take the big metal antenna off the top of the box.”

“Oh no,” Negan said, running his hand over the back of your neck as he listened. 

“We were about fifteen or so feet from the thing when lightning strikes and the spark lights the booze causing a massive fire. The worst part was that Eugene was also storing some leftover fuel at this place for Daryl’s bike and well…” you trailed off, making explosion movements with your hands. “I smelled like burning metal for three days.” Negan started laughing at that and you looked up at him, trying to see his face. You always loved it when he laughed. 

Reaching up, you ran your hand over his face and he turned towards you. “You are just…” you trailed off. 

“I’m what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he gazed down at you. 

“Unpredictable,” you whispered. “You surprise and amaze me every damn day.” 

“That’s good though, right?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“It’s very good,” you said. “I’m not cut out to deal with the mundane.”

“Good cause you are anything but ordinary,” he said softly. The moonshine in your system was forgotten as those hazel eyes bore into yours. He was like the sun and you were trapped in his gravity. 

“You know that I’m always going to be here for you, right?” you asked.

“I know,” he whispered. 

“I just need you to understand that I trust you with my life and more,” you said, sitting up more. “I know that things are going to get messy with the Whisperers, but I think we’re gonna get through it. Especially if we stick together. I think we can win this war.” Negan wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you into his lap. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“I know, (Y/N),” he said. Tightening his grip, Negan made sure to be looking you in the eyes, something he always did when he was completely earnest. “I don’t know what I would do without you. For a while, I thought that there wasn’t a future for me besides these four walls, but you changed that. I love you so much and I know that you are right. We will win this war, no matter what it takes.” 

Smiling down at him, you leaned in to kiss him softly. “I love you, too,” you whispered against his lips as he pressed you harder against him. You laughed as he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your head before kissing you again. 

The moonshine on his lips was sweet but full of fire which was a perfect metaphor for the strong man that you gave your entire body and soul to…

A loud crash came from your right as a pile of lumber fell over near the windmill, taking you out of your memories. 

“Ya good?” Daryl said from beside you as he added fletching to his bolts. 

“Fine,” you said, running a hand down your face, trying to break out of the trance you had been in. 

It had been a day since Negan had gotten out, or was let out, and you didn’t know how to even begin to understand what was going on inside his head, let alone yours. 

The last time Negan had left, you had been angry, but now you were just confused. Something didn’t feel right about any of it. Negan wasn’t a saint, everyone knew that, but he wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t heartless. Multiple scenarios went through your mind after Gabriel told you what happened. 

Lydia had tried to take the blame, but you had barely slept that night and would have woken if she had snuck out at some point. Then there was the fact that you didn’t hear anyone below the Grimes house all night. So, if someone had let him out, it was definitely a planned maneuver. 

Negan getting out was something that you wanted to happen, but you wanted it to happen on your terms. You and Negan would have had to make the decision together. The two of you had even talked about running and staying gone for a while so tensions could calm down. You’d go North, see what was in New York or Philly. You always thought that you would come back a year or so later and things would be different.

It was reckless and an idea that you didn’t think you’d ever actually do, but it was still in your mind. Negan had cautioned you against thinking such things. You figured he was afraid that you were going to alienate your family for him. What he didn’t understand was that he was your family and if he could be free, it would be worth it. 

At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

Now, you weren’t so sure what all those words he said to you meant. Did he even want to get out with you or was he using you? No, Negan would never use you. He had promised that you were different from all the relationships he had had in the past and the man never lied. 

And yet, maybe he had been lying the whole time. 

Your brain felt as if it was on one of those rickety carnival rides from your childhood as it invented theory after theory, trying to soothe curiosities. It was disorientating and it was also making it difficult to focus.

Leaning your hands on the table before you, you picked up one of Daryl’s bolts, turning it over in your hands as you wondered what it would feel like to put one of them between Beta’s eyes. 

“(Y/N),” Daryl said again and you dropped the projectile. 

“Sorry,” you said, rolling out your neck. 

“Ya need rest,” he said, trying to offer some comfort, but you didn’t want it or need it. Daryl was also not the cuddly kind of person at the moment. 

“I need to find him, I need to find Beta,” you said. Daryl narrowed his eyes, confused. 

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” he said, remembering his own fight with Alpha’s second in command. 

“I think it is,” you said with defiance. “Beta threatened me; he put his hands on me and I am not going to let him breathe any longer than he has to.”

“He threatened all of us,” Daryl said, but you shook your head. 

“This was...different. The way he looked at me that night, it was as if he was challenging me to try something. He reminded me of the Governor. Beta has that twistedness inside of him, I could practically smell it.”

“He threw me around like I was nothing,” Daryl reminded you.

“Well, I’m not you, am I?” you said, facing him. “Beta dies by my hand even if I have to build my own damn rifle and take the shot.” 

“Revenge doesn’t look good on you,” he said. 

“It’s not revenge, it’s inevitably,” you clarified. Daryl sighed, but he could tell that you set in your ways about this. 

“I’m sorry I was right about Negan,” Daryl said after a moment. 

“You weren’t,” you disagreed. 

“Come on…” he said with a knowing look. 

“You don’t know him, Daryl, I do, and I know that he had a reason. He wouldn’t have left me if he didn’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he challenged. 

“I do,” you said. “I know him more than I know myself. I don’t know why he’s gone, but I don’t think he just left to get away from Alexandria. With Negan, there’s always a fucking reason. That’s what makes him… him.”

“Don’t hold onto hope, (Y/N),” Daryl said. Looking at him, you shrugged.

“Right now, that’s all I got.”

------

The outside felt different this time for Negan. 

The last time he had gotten out of his cell, it was on a whim. Now, he had a direction and a purpose and he was going to damn well fulfil it this time. If he didn’t, you were definitely going to hate him forever.

Leaving you had been the hardest thing he’s done since he’s been locked up. However, when Carol stepped out of the darkness with her offer, he saw something that he had only seen in you. 

Possibility. 

Killing Alpha ensured the survival of Alexandria, Hilltop, and Oceanside and while all of those people couldn’t care less about Negan, there were a few that did and that made a difference. You, Judith, Lydia, and all the kids would be safe. Carol would have revenge for her son’s murder too. While Negan knew he wasn’t going to be winning any popularity contests with these people, he owed them, whether they cared or not. 

However, while he was doing it for them, he was also doing it for himself. He needed to know if he was worthy of being the hero, rather than just the sucker. 

It wasn’t just you that Negan was thinking about though, he was also thinking about Lucille. His late wife was the only other person who knew him as well as you did. Lucille saw the man that he could have become but never did due to his own faults. Negan had been a horrible husband to her, but he was willing to do better this time. 

In no way were you a do-over, but he did see the relationship that he had with you as a chance to finally be the man Lucille knew he could be. He just hoped that you would not end up hating him as Lucille did. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle losing you, not after everything he had done and lost to find you. 

Still, there was still that fear in his gut that he would not succeed on this mission. Alpha could take one look at him and take his head as she had with the others months before. That thought scared him, but he didn’t fear death, he feared leaving you behind without an explanation. Negan was ready if it came down to it and as much as he knew it would pain you, he needed to take the risks. 

“‘To die will be an awfully big adventure’,” Negan quoted as he turned his face to the sun. You had found an old battered copy of Peter Pan not that long ago. You had spent nights in his cell reading him passages from the classic and now Barrie’s words were ringing true. With a sigh, Negan continued on through the woods, trying to formulate his plan. 

Just as he turned down a small hill, however, a voice stopped him.

“Gotcha!” a male voice said and Negan froze, swearing under his breath. Raising his hands, he was ready to take the person down and run if he had to. “Don't try anything,” the man said before he began to laugh. Confused, Negan turned and who he saw made him drop his hands. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Negan muttered, “Brandon?”

The young guard from Alexandria, who was carrying a backpack, smiled at Negan. “The look on your face! Dude, seriously, I'm just messin' with you!” he said.

“What are you doin’?” Negan asked, but Brandon was still talking. 

“You're fast. Took me forever to catch up,” Brandon said. “So, prison break part two, huh?” Negan rolled his eyes and turned away from the kid, continuing on his way, but of course, Brandon followed.

---------

“My dad, he used to tell me how, like, you and the Saviors would, like, whistle back and forth before,” Brandon said as he kept pace with Negan who was trying very hard not to slap him silly.

“That was a long time ago,” Negan said with a huff. 

“I mean, not that long ago though, right?” Brandon tried as Negan didn’t bother with an answer.

“You, uh you say you had some granola or some shit?” Negan asked. Brandon quickly began rustling through his bag, eager to please. 

“Sorry about the raisins and the busted knife. Was kinda in a rush when I packed it all,” Brandon said as he handed Negan some food and the weapon he had brought from Alexandria. 

“It’s fine,” Negan said, waving him off. 

“So, you're really not gonna tell me how you got outta that cell?” Brandon asked, but Negan stayed quiet, not giving the kid an inch. You really didn’t like Brandon and Negan was starting to see why. Sure, he was annoying, but Negan already knew that. Now he was starting to see him as who he really was, a leech. 

“Alright,” Brandon continued, “well, at least tell me what we're lookin' for.”

“Someplace safe,” Negan said. Carol had given him freedom, but the plan was completely up to him. Considering how his day went after the first time he got out, he was getting a bit nervous. 

“I get it. A new Sanctuary,” said Brandon. “Damn, how badass was that place? And then, Rick Grimes comes along, talk about hypocrisy, kills our parents, drags us to Alexandria, lectures us about community.”

“Grimes was a good man,” Negan commented, not allowing the kid to tarnish Rick’s name. No matter what they thought of each other, Rick deserved respect. 

“I guess,’ Brandon shrugged. “Man, I heard you made him cut his own kid's hand off, then you killed them,” he said and Negan froze. “You know, Carl Grimes, I heard you shot him.” 

Negan whirled on the kid, shoving him against a nearby tree. “I never did that,” Negan sneered. “I don’t give a shit about what kind of fucked up rumors you’ve heard. Carl was... I would never kill a kid.”

Brandon was staring up at Negan and the latter was glad to see a bit of fear in the kid’s eyes. People could hate on him all they wanted, but the Grimes family were good people, are good people, and he respected them too much to listen to any slander. 

Especially about Carl. 

“Yeah, no, definitely. I'm with you, obviously. We're both Negan,” Brandon said and Negan felt sick. They walked on once Negan let him go, but Brandon was still pushing. “Did you talk to (Y/N) before you left?”

“Excuse me?” Negan asked, looking over his shoulder at the kid. 

“I just mean, do they know why you left?”

“I’m not seeing how that’s any of your business, kid,” Negan snapped. Brandon fell quiet then but soon spoke up when the two men came across an odd sight. 

“Who would do this?” Brandon asked as he looked down at the makeshift fence. Wrapped in barbed wire, wooden posts acted as a barrier and Negan immediately knew what it meant.

“Whisperers,” Negan said. 

“Damn. Should we cross? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?” Brandon offered. 

“No,” Negan said but made a point to remember the location. “We’re not equipped to deal with them.”

“They’re just people.”

“People who can blend in with the Dead,” Negan pointed out. “I’m not sure we can consider them human at his point.”

“Right, like that Lydia chick,” Brandon snipped and before Negan could go off on him, Walkers converged on them. Brandon slid to the side as the Dead fell upon Negan. The weight of the Walkers nearly brought him down, but Negan was able to eventually overpower them.

Once the Dead were finally down, Negan turned to Brandon and he was pissed. “What the hell!” he said. 

“Sorry, sorry, I was just getting your gift ready,” Brandon said as he showed Negan what was in his hand. Negan straightened up as he saw the baseball bat. A bat that was freshly wrapped in the wire of Alpha’s border. “I also got this,” Brandon said as he pulled out a leather jacket. “Found it in the back of an old storage garage. My dad said he never saw you without it.”

Suddenly, Negan got an idea. Before Rick locked him up, he was good at a lot, but the best thing was charming his way into places. However, that charm had disappeared after the many years locked away. Now, looking at the jacket and the new bat, Negan finally realized what he would need to do to get to Alpha. 

He would have to become the Negan everyone once feared. Although, not just yet. 

“Listen,” Negan said, “uh why don't you just put that in your backpack? I don't wanna be recognized.” 

“You like it, though, right?” Brandon asked, sounding like a damn groupie. 

“More than you know.”

———-

Negan and Brandon kept moving. 

“Did anyone see you leave?” Negan asked, not wanting Aaron or Daryl to be tracking them. That was the last thing Negan needed. 

“Nah,” Brandon said, “but the bitch with the baby did see me come out of my house. Not sure she cares.”

“Her name is Rosita,” Negan corrected, surprising himself. Since the blizzard, he had been thinking about Miss Espinosa. Rosita had as much reason to hate Negan as Maggie did, but Negan began to think that perhaps the new mother was just as tired of being outwardly hostile as he was. 

“Right,” said Brandon. “Sorry man, I thought you didn’t like her.”

“No, she doesn’t like me, there’s a difference,” Negan said. 

“Is there?” 

“I only had problems with a few of those people. Rosita was not one of them.”

“I heard a story that she shot at you,” Brandon said and Negan snorted at the memory. 

“That she did,” Negan said. “Though, I did murder someone in front of her so I guess I deserved it.” 

“And now she’s with a priest. Weird.”

“Gabe is alright,” Negan said. In fact, besides you and Lydia, Gabriel was the closest thing he had to a friend. He had thought he was making headway with Aaron, but he could never get a proper read on that man. 

In fact, there was one person whom he actually did want to properly speak to and that was Ezekiel. There was something about the king that made him incredibly curious. However, after the death of his son, Negan didn’t even know what he would say to him.

You had always said that Ezekiel was a good man and a fair one. Negan began to wonder what the tiger-wrangler would have done with him if it had been up to him and not Rick. Those thoughts were interrupted when he and Brandon heard screaming. 

“Sounds like a girl,” Brandon said. 

“And a kid,” Negan said as he heard the second yell. Negan took off towards the sound, anxious to find the source. It didn’t take long for him to find it. An abandoned bus stood broken down in an old lot. Inside, he could hear screams of panic and the unmistakable groans of Walkers. 

Negan didn’t hesitate to run towards the bus, hauling himself up the steps of the old vehicle. In the back, a woman cowered before the Walker as a young boy hid with her. Negan headed straight down the aisle, grabbing the creature by its shoulders. The rotting jaw snapped at its new attacker, but Negan was stronger. Throwing it towards the open back door, Negan slammed it to the floor and used the accordion door to smash its brains to bits. 

The shouts of alarm were replaced by heavy breathing and then small sobs as the woman clutched at her child. “Thank you,” she cried, “thank you.” Negan, who was breathing heavily nodded to her, offering her a squeeze on the arm that she reached towards him. Amongst the gratitude, Brandon was celebrating Negan’s gory display. 

Once Negan was able to get the mother and her son calm and situated, he pulled Brandon aside. 

“So, what’s the plan here, boss?” Brandon asked. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Rob them? Take their shit and go, right?” Brandon offered. 

“It’s a mother and child,” Negan reminded him “Fuck kid, you really think that I’m going to hurt them?”

“I mean… that’s what you do,” Brandon said. 

“What I do is none of your goddamn business,” Negan said, stepping into his face again. “You know what, this isn’t exactly workin’ out, is it? I think you need to get lost, find your own damn celebrity so you can lick their fucking boots. I’m done.”

“I can’t just go home, they’ll know I helped you!” Brandon said, stopping Negan before he could leave him behind. 

“Then don’t go home,” Negan said. “You’re free, kid, go wherever the fuck you want.” 

“I thought I was helping you,” he said. 

“No, you’re not. I got my own shit to do and I can’t play babysitter. Do us both a favor and get the hell out of here,” Negan said before turning his back on the teen. Brandon hesitated for a few moments before hiking his bag up on his shoulders and walking away. Negan didn’t relax until his form disappeared into the surrounding brush. 

After Brandon had gone, Negan went to speak with the mother, helping her get comfortable as her son was in view just outside the bus. “Ya alright?” he asked. 

“Better now,” she said.

“How long have you been out here? You got people?” 

“It was just Milo and me. We'd been walking for days, weeks, until the hissers ran through our camp, scattered everyone to the winds. After that, we went back to what it was before, what it always is in the end, Milo and me, moving from place to place, surviving,” she said. 

“I’ve been there,” Negan said. “The wandering is the worst part.”

“How did you stop? The wandering,” she clarified. 

“That is a long story, but I did end up in a place that’s not too far from here. You and your boy seem like good people and if I know them, which I do, then they will help you,” Negan said. 

“Why would they?” she asked. 

“Because,” Negan said, “they’re the kind of people that save people.”

--------

Negan found Milo not that long after. 

“Hey,” he said, joining the kid. Milo looked at him with worry, but Negan offered his hands in a placating gesture. “Don't worry, kid. I don't bite. Your mom, she's inside, packin', so we got a little bit of time to kill,” Negan said. 

“Where'd Brandon go?” Milo asked, looking around. 

“Brandon, he went looking for supplies,” Negan said and then sighed, not liking the taste of lies on his tongue. “You know what? I'm gonna be real with you. Uh, I told Brandon to get lost. You see, uh, it turns out, not the best co-pilot, if you catch my drift.” Milo looked at him in confusion. “You don't catch my drift at all, do ya?”

“Not really,” Milo admitted. 

“You've never been on a plane, huh?” Negan asked and Milo shook his head again. “Aw, man, it's alright. It's not your fault that God turned this world into an asspit before you were born. Alright. Picture this, alright? Sitting on a plane, really nice, comfy seats, but it feels like you've been sitting on the runway for Goddamn ever. Suddenly, there's this kinda rumbling, a groan, alright? The plane finally starts to creep along, right, and now we're moving faster and faster. And you look out that window, and everything's turning into a blur. And then, Whew. Wheels come up off the ground. You are flying,” he said with a smile. 

“Like birds?” Milo asked. 

“Hell yeah like birds,” Negan said. “Up and up and up, higher and higher, until it feels like you are floating on top of the frickin' world. And you're looking out that little window, and you can see houses. They look like little toy houses and little toy cars.”

“Sounds scary,” Milo said. 

“No scarier than the hissers,” Negan said, using the nickname Milo’s mom had used. “I hope you’ll be able to experience it someday.” 

“Me too,” Milo said. Negan smiled down at the kid, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Do you have kids?” 

“I don’t,” Negan said. “Though I do know a few and they are just as badass as you.”

“Are you married?” Milo asked, still curious.

“Not anymore,” Negan said, looking out over the dying world. “Though, I do have someone. Their name is (Y/N).”

“Where are they?” 

“Someplace safe,” Negan said. 

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“I gotta do something,” Negan explained. “Fix some things.”

“I get that,” Milo said, reaching over to pat Negan on the back, causing the latter to laugh.

“What is with you kids in this new world, you’re all so damn wise,” Negan said as he thought about Judith particularly. “Look, I told your mom about a place I know. They’ll help you and get you some food. They’re good people.”

“Are they your people?”

“A few are,” Negan said. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.” 

“Thank you for saving me and my mom,” Milo said and Negan smiled at him. 

“You are welcome, but if I don’t go and find some firewood, all three of us are gonna freeze tonight. Take care of your mom until I get back?” 

“I will,” Milo said. 

“Good man,” Negan teased as he got up and headed into the woods to hopefully find some warmth for the night.

------

Negan walked, grabbing wood as he found it, but it was taking too long and he needed to get back to Milo and his mother. 

As Negan began the trek back to the bus, a Walker shuffled out of the trees. Pulling the old knife that Brandon had given him, he let the Walker approach him. “You bastards just get more ugly by the day,” Negan grunted as it grabbed for him. Negan kicked out its legs and shoved his blade in the rotting skull. Kneeling down, Negan searched the Dead woman’s coat. He was hoping to find a lighter or matches, but what he found instead made him laugh. 

Inside her coat pocket was a broken hatchet. It looked as if she had hit something too hard with it and broke the handle. However, the blade was still intact and Negan could see dried blood in the etching. Holding the hatchet, he began to think about another hatchet-wielding maniac he once tousled with. 

“Look at me, Rick,” Negan said to the empty woods, “I’m trying to be the fuckin’ hero. If Carl could see me now…” Negan left the broken weapon behind as he hauled his firewood back into his arms and headed back to the kid and his mom. 

Negan walked with steady steps, ready to finally get some rest. However, as he approached the lot, something felt wrong. It was too quiet and as Negan turned the corner, the wood in his arms crashed to the ground. 

Laying in pools of their own blood, Milo and his mother were dead, their vacant eyes gazing up at the sky. Standing above them, holding a tire iron, was Brandon. The teen was beaming with pride as he looked at the man before him. Negan, however, was only seeing red as he saw the child’s body crumpled on the floor. 

“That's it, right?” Brandon asked. “You almost had me. Back on the bus, when you kicked me out. Then I remembered, This is Negan. He's always messing with people, keeping 'em in line.” Negan began to stalk towards Brandon, his body moving on its own accord. 

“So I realized there's a test,” Brandon continued. “‘It's gonna get a lot more dangerous from here on out.’ That's what you said to me. You wanted to make sure that I had the balls to do what had to be done. What do you think? I passed, right?” Brandon said with glee as he stared down at his victims. Negan bent over and picked up a large rock, weighing it in his hand as he approached the lunatic. “I am Neg‒” Brandon tried to finish as Negan swung and hit him over the head with the rock. 

Brandon went down hard, blood oozing from his head, but Negan had to finish the job. With a few more hits, the brain was damaged and Brandon was dead with no possibility of returning. The rage that he was feeling was too overwhelming. The mother was bad enough, but a child? Milo was as pure as they came. Brandon hadn’t killed them, he had stolen them and Negan wasn’t going to allow that. 

Blood was splattered on Negan’s clothes and face, but he kept moving. He grabbed Brandon’s bag, pulling out the black leather jacket. Taking it in his hands he admired it for just a moment before sliding it across his broad shoulders. 

The feel of the leather on his back was both familiar and terrifying. However, he knew it was needed and so, he zipped it up the way he used to and from the bag, pulled his new weapon. 

Lucille 2.0.

The menacing weapon felt familiar. She would never be what his original was, but she would do if he was going to pull off the performance of a lifetime. “Takin’ one for a team that would rather see me in a grave. Oh, how things have fuckin’ changed,” Negan said as he swung the bat up to his shoulder as he looked down at his newest victim. 

Negan raised his head, leaned into one of his legs and then headed towards his destination. A destination fenced with barbed wire. 

----------

“Alright, you sorry, rotten sacks of shit! What's a fella gotta do to get eaten around here?” Negan announced as he wandered through the darkness. Waiting until nightfall, Negan had prepared himself for what he was about to do.  

“What's the matter? Huh?” he continued. “Y'all scared of the Big Bad Wolf? Little pig, little pig! Let me in!” he yelled as he moved over the border and into Alpha’s territory, letting his voice travel. “And there you are!” Negan said as he finally noticed the Walkers and in the moonlight, blades appeared in some of their hands. “Oh, I am gonna huff. I am gonna puff. I am gonna blow your house all the way down!” 

Out of the darkness came a large shape and Negan immediately knew who it was. You had described him so much that Negan felt as if he practically knew the asshole. 

Beta. 

“Alright, you big-ass freak,” Negan said as he stared down Alpha’s right hand in the dark. With a deep breath and your face at the forefront of his mind, Negan gripped his new Lucille and grinned. “Here we go.”

TAGS: 

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[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group.

(Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, buried trauma, mentions of tortured and murdered children, furious Marcus.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: We learn a bit more history on the Heroics as a whole, and something Reader’s been supressing, that leads to some new developments concerning her powers.

(Again I apologise for the crossover GIF, but really Narcos just has the best ones. Also, let me know if it’s yours and I’ll credit you!)

Chapter 39

  Wisconsin was getting cold this time of year, and you were frustrated. Verity had really outdone himself this time. He’d positioned himself right smack in the middle of suburbia, on Barbara Lane, in De Pere, Green bay, forcing you to take twice as many safety precautions as usual, before you could see him.

  You’d asked Marcus after the first time you’d met the truth-seeker, if it wouldn’t be less dangerous and more inconspicuous for him to come to you, instead of you having to travel all over the country to find him. But Marcus had explained that he had adapted a lifestyle that meant that he was never in one place for more than two days, in order to stay ahead of any team that HQ might send out to investigate his energy-signature.

  He rarely used his ability to the extent that the new and more powerful sensors could detect it, but on the few occasions when he had, he’d found himself having company some time later. Their response time varied depending on where in the country he was, and whenever he was closer to the west coast, his temporary lodgings were always significantly shorter.

  Allen had been quiet for most of the journey, deep in his thoughts, but when you started getting close to your destination, the old man started talking.

  “I built most of HQ, you know. The Heroic organisation.”

  “Yeah, you were one of the founders, right? One of the first non-powered people to suggest that supers might need help to become actual heroes. You got them to talk to one another, start building relationships, creating the friendships that would ultimately turn them into a team.”

  “It was almost impossible to get those knuckleheads to coincide. There were only four of them back then, and they all wanted the glory and heroism to themselves, fighting for the spotlight every chance they got. We really thought our efforts weren’t gonna do anything.”

  “What changed it around?”

  “Anita Moreno.”

  “Hah… of course she did.”

  “When she came along, young and determined and confident, she elbowed out their failing attempts at leadership by actually taking charge, and making them listen to reason. By way of a beat-down if necessary.”

  “That, I can believe. And I’d have loved to see it.”

  “She was fearless of their powers and their masculinity, their macho-bullshit. And before long, she had them training to improve their skillsets, studying the politics of the world, saying that if they were gonna insist on meddling in other cultures, then it was also their responsibility to understand what the hell they were meddling with.”

  “And that’s where you took the opportunity, I’m guessing?”

  “I reached out to Anita, offering financial support in creating a training-facility for the supers, a kind of recreational area, where they could play with their abilities, test themselves against each other, without risking harm to anyone. She really liked the idea, and asked me to find out if anyone else would be interested in helping them, and over time, that’s how the Heroics were born.”

  “And now it’s been tainted.”

  “I don’t know that it hasn’t been completely destroyed already.”

  “Henry, the organisation can never be destroyed, not as long someone’s around to fight back. And you’d better believe we are.”

  “What have you brought me today, Rainbow?”

  A little while later, you finally stepped into the house, and Verity’s energy hit you. Since he knew you couldn’t use your power to greet him anymore, he called to you from the kitchen and you guided Allen there.

  The poor man was already pale.

  “Someone I really hope you’re about to tell me I can trust.”

  “A founder… this is a first. Your heart is filled with love, for your family, mostly, but that also makes you susceptible to great fear. Right now, you fear what will be left of your legacy once this mess is made public. You fear that the Heroics will be shut down, and that your life’s work will go down in history as nothing but a failed experiment. You love your creation, it gives you great pride, but you fear it too. The power it’s accumulated, and how the politics have gotten more and more in control of it. But you are innocent of any crime or conspiracy. You are, at heart, a good man.”

  Allen looked like he might vomit, so you helped him to sit down and brought him a glass of water.

  “Who are you?”

  Verity never answered that question, no matter who was asking, so you sat down next to Henry to explain.

  “He’s a very special super, that you can never mention to anyone. If you do, he’ll disappear, and we’ll have no way of knowing who’s trustworthy or not.”

  “He can tell the truth? I never even spoke…”

  “Verity sees the truth, like a web around people. I don’t know exactly how it works, but he can see everything, past and present. Every lie and every truth of your entire existence.”

  “Incredible. And really unnerving.”

  “Yes, but worth it. Thanks to him we have over 120 trusted operatives working for us all over the world, and that’s not including the Heroics.”

  “That’s… impressive. But I fear this enemy is going to need much greater numbers than that, to be defeated.”

  “Maybe. But 89 of those operatives are supers, and that evens the odds significantly.”

  “What? But… we scan for people with abilities all over the world, we would know if that many existed.”

  “Not if they’d been hiding their powers. We figured that anyone who was on the Heroics radar, would most likely be on SIC’s as well, so we focused entirely on reaching out to those that we knew were hidden. And in that process, we uncovered a whole community of powered people that want nothing to do with the fame or recognition, and once they understood the stakes, they all agreed to help us. And they, in turn, are reaching out to their friends, normal and super, to join the fight. Our numbers grow every day, Henry. We can beat these assholes; we just need a little more time.”

  Verity’s energy focusing on you, broke your concentration, and you turned to look at him.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure. Something… something in your memories.”

  “If it’s my memory then why can’t you see it clearly?”

  “It’s been hidden. It’s a memory you can’t see yourself.”

  Your skin crawled and your heartbeat picked up, in an involuntary response to any kind of mention of your time with the mad doctor. Verity noticed.

  “A painful memory. Something you don’t want to remember.”

  “I don’t want to remember any of it, V.”

  “Tubes, wires, machines, syringes. Your body remembers. Your cells do.”

  “Pain… so much pain, your nerves remember all of it. You fought him. You bit him twice, escaped your bindings once, almost got out. He punished you for that by pouring battery-acid on your feet. He was so confident that his experiment would work that he didn’t care how much damage he caused you in the process.”

  Lost in his search into your mind, Verity slowly started moving towards you, centring all his power on you, desperate to uncover everything that was hidden. You weren’t sure if he was even aware of how overbearing he was in that moment. How threatening.

  He had never come across a truth he couldn’t see before, and it made him obsessive and ruthless in his pursuit of it. A part of you knew that, but your reptile brain was overcome with a sense of danger, and you backed away from him, but he followed you.

  “V… please, stop.”

  He didn’t even hear you.

  “You’re hiding from me. I can feel the memory so clearly, wrapped in a bubble I can’t penetrate. I need to know what it is.”

  He was pushing so much of his energy into your mind to try and break that bubble, that you started feeling unnaturally heavy. Your body suddenly felt like it was moving through liquid, meeting so much resistance that it exhausted you just to take a single step.

  You collapsed to the floor, struggling to breathe, and still he didn’t let up. He towered over you, and somewhere in the background you heard Allen trying to reason with him, but then a splitting pain shot through your head, and you passed out.

  “You stay the fuck away from me, V!”

  You woke up lying on the sofa in the living room, your head still throbbing and the light burning your eyes. But from what little you could make out, Verity was sitting on a chair right next to you, and it made the bear inside you wake up with full force.

  You launched yourself at him, placing a hard fist at his solar plexus, and when he involuntarily crunched forwards, his face had a very abrupt meeting with your elbow.

  He fell backwards, toppling the chair over and breaking it as he hit the floor, bleeding from his nose and cheek-bone.

  Allen rushed into the room from the kitchen, holding a pack of ice he’d apparently been getting for you. You wobbled over to him and swiped it from his hands to put against your right temple, while Verity slowly got to his knees.

  “I saw it. The memory you were hiding, I was able to break your defence the moment before you lost consciousness.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “He did it in front of you. He strapped children into that chair, and made you watch as he drained them. He made you watch their strength gradually leave them as the pain got to be too much. You saw the faces of at least nine of them, wordlessly begging you for help.”

  “I trapped those memories away for a reason, you asshole. Just because you need the truth like a fucking addict, doesn’t mean I do!”

  The images came to you as he voiced them. You remembered those faces, fifteen of them, actually. You remembered their pain, and how much you wished that you could have borne it for them. How gladly you’d have sacrificed yourself for them, if you could have.

  That was why your powers had manifested into what they did. That was why you couldn’t heal yourself, because in that time and place, you truly didn’t care if you died.

  You slumped against the nearest wall and slowly allowed yourself to sink to the floor. Your head was still throbbing, and you were beyond angry.

  “You do need to know this.”

  “You don’t get to decide that for me! You don’t get to torture me, V, that’s what the fucking bad guys do!!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, that is as close to a god damned lie as you’ve ever gotten! You don’t give a shit if your powers hurt me, as long as you get your fucking truth. If you’re sorry about anything, it’s that I’m not grateful for your efforts. Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong!”

  He didn’t speak. He just sat there, looking as unbothered about everything as he always did.

  “Allen, get me the hell out of here.”

  “Hermosa? What’s wrong?”

  You took a cab from the airport, and fell asleep about halfway home. The driver had a calm and rhythmic manner that soothed you, and he was listening to John Williams play the Concierto de Aranjuez, with the soft guitar notes making your frayed mind drift away to a warm and sunny Spain.

  He woke you by gently announcing that you’d arrived at your destination, and you paid him and thanked him for his kindness, before getting out and walking towards the gate in the fence. Your legs felt like lead.

  You could hear Marcus and Missy through the front door as you approached it, ingulfed in playing some boardgame, and you stopped and just listened to them for a while, leaning heavily against the door.

  Your darling Missy, the same age as several of those children. But alive and happy and such a wonderful person already.

  And Marcus. Your reason for living. The one that saved you, and kept saving you, despite the darkness that accompanied you.

  You hadn’t kept your word about checking in with him, so when you texted him while you were waiting at the airport in Green Bay, he’d been furious at first, wanting to know why he hadn’t heard from you in almost five hours. But he’d quickly calmed as you’d simply reminded him that since he was hearing from you now, you were obviously okay, and you’d tell him everything when you saw him.

  But now, standing behind that door, you didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t want to talk about it, and you didn’t want to burden him with knowing it. But you also knew that he’d see it on your face the moment you walked in. You were too tired and in too much pain still, to even try and keep up any appearances.

  You took a breath, and walked inside. Marcus was on his feet the moment the door swung open, and he swept you into a tight hug as soon as he got to you, but the mildness of your response immediately had him worried.

  “Could you just keep your voice down a bit, please. My head’s killing me.”

  “Where you in a fight?”

  He looked closer at you upon hearing that, and he realised that you were actually in terrible shape. He swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, while asking Missy to come and help him prepare a bath for you.

  She went straight to the bathroom and turned on the taps, and you could hear her going into the cabinets to pull out fresh towels.

  In the meantime, Marcus was helping you out of your clothes, and noticed a big black bruise on your elbow.

  “No… just felt cornered.”

  “By who?”

  “...Verity.”

  His whole posture changed, and you could feel a sudden rage emanating from him.

  “Tell me what he did.”

  “I’m too tired right now…”

  “Querida, look at me. Tell me.”

  “He… broke into the memories I’d hidden… the one’s he couldn’t see before.”

  “The one’s Prince had altered?”

  “No… the one’s I buried. The one’s that were too horrible… He forced them out, and now my head feels like it’s breaking apart.”

  “Why would he hurt you like that?”

  He picked you up again and moved you into the bathroom. Missy only stayed until the tub was full and she could close the taps, and then she hugged you gently and slipped out of the room.

  Marcus took the last of your clothes off before lowering you into the warm water, and when you asked him to join you, he did, holding you close and softly stroking your skin under the water.

  “He can’t stand lies, and apparently that applies to secrets as well. He just had to know; consequences be damned.”

  “He’ll regret that tomorrow.”

  “Don’t bother. He won’t admit to any wrong-doing. And we still need him.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. The only reason I agreed to let you go was because I thought you’d be safe with him.”

  “I don’t have anymore secrets for him to try and uncover now. So, technically I will be, from now on. Not that I ever wanna see him again.”

  “You won’t have to. I’ll deal with him.”

  “We’re still at war, honey. We’re gonna have to do a lot of things we’d rather not.”

  “Fuck the war, I’ll turn my back on the whole damned thing and take you to live with the fucking penguins if that’s what it takes. I’m so tired of seeing you in pain!”

  “Oh, please, keep your voice down…”

  “Sorry.”

  You sat in silence for a while, as the warm water started to open up your capillaries, easing your headache a bit.

  “Are you gonna tell me?”

  You knew what he was asking, and you really wanted to say no, but you also knew that you needed to tell him.

  “Prince made me… he made me watch.”

  The tears burned in your eyes, and you tried to chase the memories away, to lock them back into that little bubble where they couldn’t hurt you. But it was too late.

  “Watch what?”

  You didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt as though that would somehow solidify the images into reality, making them truly inescapable. He could feel your resistance, and tried to soothe you with his current, but it wasn’t enough this time.

  “The… ch-children. He made me… watch them die.”

  “Oh, my god…”

  The next morning you felt better. The headache had eased with some real sleep and you were starting to feel human again. Marcus was right next to you, his arms securely wrapped around you while he slept, but he stirred the moment you did. It was still early enough that your monday alarms hadn’t gone off yet.

  You felt him swallow repeatedly against the bile and grief that surged up in his throat as he realised what you were saying. He’d seen the lab. The extraction chair. And the freshest bodies that Prince hadn’t had time to get rid off before they found his lair. He’d seen how much pain they’d been in as they died, evident in their faces even after death.

  He didn’t say anything else, and you didn’t need him to, you just needed him to hold you, and he did.

  “Good morning, hermosa. Did you sleep okay?”

  “Morning. Yeah, actually I did.”

  “No bad dreams?”

  “I think my headache might have made that impossible. It’s gone now, though.”

  “Good. How do you feel about breakfast?”

  “I’m looking forward to it. I still haven’t eaten in our kitchen yet.”

  “Right. Eggs and toast?”

  “Please.”

  You went about your morning toilet and wash, before heading out to the kitchen together. Missy was already at the island, having cereal and flipping through a schoolbook, and since Marcus was already pulling out the frying pan to get started on the eggs, you sat down with her, before the school bus would get there.

  “Morning, angel. Test today?”

  “Yup. Maths. I got it, though.”

  “Oh, I believe that, you’re good at maths. Break a leg anyway.”

  “Thanks, alma. I’m aiming for top scores.”

  “I like your aim.”

  “Don’t worry, preciosa, her protection is in place.”

  Marcus had just sat down a plate in front of you when the bus honked, and Missy ran out the door while shouting she loved both of you.

  You kept staring at the closed door after she’d disappeared through it, and Marcus knew what you were thinking.

  “I know, but after yesterday… I just feel a bit more protective than usual.”

  “That’s entirely understandable, but please try not to stress over it. You have another one to protect as well.”

  “Right… Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologise, just breathe and eat calmly.”

  “So, Allen got the all clear, I assume. Does that mean he’s in?”

  You dug into the food and it was delicious. So much better than the airport food you’d eaten all day yesterday, even though it was just scrambled eggs and perfectly roasted toast, with those tomatoes on the side, that he’d promised you the day before.

  Marcus let you finish before he started talking again.

  “Yeah, he’s gonna coordinate for us at HQ, so we can keep our attention on the rest of the country, and world.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Shaken, for numerous reasons, but determined to get his lives work back in order. He told me about the early days, and how he and your mom whipped the first supers into heroes.”

  “Really? Mom doesn’t talk about those days much. She’s told me a lot about my father, but not that much about herself.”

  “Well, she seems to have been a tour de force all her life, from what Allen described. And after what you’ve told me about your dad, I can see why he would’ve fallen for her. They were a good match.”

  “She always says that the best thing about him was how good he was at driving her up the walls, because it forced her to really look at him.”

  “I see what she means.”

  “I don’t drive you up the walls. Do I?”

  “Mostly just in the mornings, when you know I’m not susceptible to ‘fun’, but other than that, you’re pretty well behaved.”

  “Oh, no, the mornings don’t count.”

  “And why the hell not?”

  “Because your morning mood is way too amusing not to take advantage of.”

  “Hey! That is so not fair, I can’t help it that my brain just won’t start on all cylinders at once. And, for the record, this is the second morning in a row that I haven’t been cranky first thing.”

  His whole face lit up in a dazzling smile at that.

  “Wow. That’s more than just a record, babe, that’s almost worthy of a mention on CNN.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?! How could you do that to her?! I have always been your friend, protected you, guided you, helped you any way I could… and you almost kill my wife!!”

  A voice came from the living room, and with the way the house was designed, about half of that space was visible from the kitchen, while the other half was hidden behind the dining room.

  He didn’t need to step into view from behind the wall that separated the two areas, for either of you to know who it was. The truth-seeker had a very recognisable tone and rhythm of speech. But when he did appear, you couldn’t help yourself from getting out of your chair and taking a few steps back towards the kitchen counter, needing as much space between you as possible.

  Marcus, on the other hand, turned positively feral. He rushed Verity and wrestled him to the floor, while screaming at him.

  “I would never have let her come to any harm.”

  You’d never seen him angry like this. Usually he internalised it, afraid to let it loose because of what his powers might do, but this was more than anger. He felt betrayed by one of his oldest friends, and it enraged him in a way that didn’t even involve his powers.

  He had Verity pinned on the floor and was sitting on top of him with his hands around his neck, every muscle in his body was tensed to the breaking-point and there where visible veins pulsing in his face, neck and arms.

  “Are you seriously fucking lying to me right now?! You did harm her, you ignorant piece of shit! Just because she’s the strongest fucking person you’ve ever met, doesn’t mean you can’t hurt her! She could barely even walk!”

  “But she’s not damaged. Her mind is intact.”

  “I don’t believe this…I don’t fucking believe it!”

  He got off of Verity and dragged him up to standing before shoving him down on the nearest chair, still keeping himself in between you and the trespasser. He paced in front of him while he continued to rail at him.

  “Are you seriously telling me, that you don’t know the difference between physically harming someone, and hurting them? How is that even possible, with all the crap you went through as a kid? How do you not know the difference?!”

  “It was a memory. Hiding them away only ever hurts you, I was trying to help her.”

  “Did you see the fucking memory?!”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me exactly how seeing those faces for the rest of her life is gonna help her!”

  “It already has.”

  His eyes shifted to yours, and you instinctively tried to back away further.

  “That memory has already made you understand why you have the powers you do.”

  His energy flowed through you, and it made you feel sick. You closed your eyes in a useless attempt to keep him out, but you felt him explore your mind again, bringing those images to the forefront of your thoughts.

  “Seeing their suffering solidified everything that you are. Through all his torture and experiments, all you wanted was to live. But for them… you wanted to die. You wanted to exchange your life for theirs. That’s your true strength – your armour and your weapon. Look at their faces, Rain. See them and know who you are.”

  “You think that just because you know the truth, you understand everything? Do you think you know how this feels? Do you think you have any idea how much this hurts me? Do you not even see how you’re manipulating me?”

  Your blood suddenly boiled with fury. Who was he to command your thoughts? To impose his perspective on you? This man that had hurt you so badly, only to uncover a truth he had no right to.

  The entire house shook as your powers awoke with a vengeance. You snapped your eyes back open just as Marcus turned back to look at you, realising what was happening.

  But you loved this house, you weren’t gonna put a single fucking dent on it.

  Reaching into that special place inside of you, where you’d learned you could find that sparkling dust, you drew it out and gathered it in large quantities on the floor in front of Verity. Then you allowed your mind to fill with the images of those innocent children, in their dying moments, and transferred those images into the dust.

  Fifteen lifelike sculptures appeared in the sparkles, perfect re-creations of the dead and long forgotten sacrifices, that Verity had never met, never known, and yet felt he had the right to use like string-puppets.

  He had the audacity to smile at your creations.

  His smile faded as you spoke, but he made no attempt to apologise.

  “You’re using my pain to force my hand. You know that my powers hurt me, and you force me to use them anyway. And for what? To try and prove you were right?”

  “No. If anything, my efforts should tell you exactly how much we need your powers in this war. You asked me to help you win it. That’s all I’m doing.”

  “And if our baby dies because of it, that’s just another sacrifice for the greater good?!”

  The sculptures collapsed into mere piles on the floor, and you glared at him furiously, daring him to answer you.

  “I don’t believe your baby will be harmed by your abilities.”

  “Your beliefs are of no fucking relevance to me. Tell me if you would care… at all… if another child had to die in order for us to win this war?”

  He paused, but not to consider his answer, only how you would react to it.

  “No. I wouldn’t care. Wars kill people, of all ages, it doesn’t discriminate. Many more will die before it’s over, and if we’re going to be outraged over each and every one of them, then we won’t have time to fight.”

  Marcus closed his eyes and bowed his head.

  “That’s not the point, V. The point is that we only win if we still care. If we stop caring about life and suffering, then we might as well join the assholes. Can’t you see that?”

  “I haven’t lived like you have, Marcus. Caring has never been a luxury I’ve been able to enjoy. I have nothing. No possessions, no family, one person I would call a friend, and whom, despite my best efforts, I do care about.”

  “Then it should matter to you whether or not my family is safe and well.”

  “It does, and they are. When I say that I don’t believe that your wife’s powers will harm your child, I’m not just guessing. I can see your powers, Rain, the core of them. And while they do damage you a little bit every time you use them, I don’t believe that that damage actually harms you. I believe it slowly changes you.”

  “Changes me… Why? Into what?”

  “I couldn’t say for sure, but I don’t think it’s that kind of change. I think it’s simply trying to make you stronger, physically. As in, superhumanly strong. Invincible. And if anyone’s body could – it’d be yours.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

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[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Epilogue: Martin Prime

“…see it into a new era. Please join me in welcoming to the podium the Head of the Magnus Institute of London, Dr. Walter…Kos-ki-e-wicz.”

“Fifteen months and he still can’t pronounce it properly,” Jon whispered under the cover of the applause that followed the introduction.

“He’s better than he used to be,” Martin whispered back, squeezing Jon’s hand gently. “Go make nice.”

Jon lifted Martin’s fingers to his lips and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the knuckles before pushing back from the long table and getting to his feet. Martin turned his head towards where the podium ought to be, thankful they’d been able to come in early and get the layout of the room so he didn’t look like a complete tit staring off into the wrong direction, as the clapping gradually tapered off into an expectant silence.

“Thank you, Mr. Campbell.” Jon popped the normally silent P with a dry, pointed humor Martin knew well. When the laughter had died down, he continued in the deep, rolling affectation he had begun adopting when he needed to act as the face of the Institute. “Friends, colleagues, distinguished guests. I stand before you tonight with the awesome and humbling privilege of thanking you all for coming to celebrate two hundred years of the Magnus Institute.”

Martin, who had listened to Jon practice this speech in the comfort of their living room at least twenty times in the last two weeks, let it fade into the background and settled back into his seat. Not being able to scan the assembled gathering was annoying, but while this might have been the largest event they had attended in the past year, it was by no means the first. He was used to having to fold his hands over his stomach, or the end of his cane, and imagine what everyone’s faces were doing.

A familiar whirring started up from the space Jon had vacated, and Martin smiled and laid his fingers on the tape recorder as it buzzed away. Somehow, it was comforting to know she was still listening, even now.

It hadn’t been easy getting to this point. Martin had never really actually expected killing Jonah Magnus to instantly make everything sunshine and roses again, but he definitely hadn’t expected the attempt to drain Jon so badly that he collapsed in his arms. Nor had he expected that it would take three days for him to open his eyes again. (Melanie had teased Jon a bit about “taking this whole Messiah Complex to extremes”, but even she’d been strained.) And the news from Great Yarmouth hadn’t helped matters. Martin was still kind of thankful that he hadn’t been able to see Sasha’s face when she got off the phone with Basira and reported what little she knew. Or the look on his counterpart’s face when he called and filled in the gaps thirty-six hours later. Martin had hoped they’d get out of the building before blowing it up, but at least they hadn’t gone into the Unknowing itself.

It had still been touch and go, though, and Tim was still adjusting to his new reality, but thankfully he had plenty of support. Martin could hear in their voices when they spoke that they were happy, in a way he was only just learning himself that he could be.

Jon made a surprisingly good Institute Head. It hadn’t necessarily been something he’d planned on, but when they got back from taking Charlie to see Present Jon and Present Martin—who refused to leave the hospital until Tim was awake and ready to come home himself—and Melanie informed him about the new temporary head, Jon had almost literally hit the roof and stormed the Institute himself. It had taken him two days to manage to get an audience with Peter Lukas, but in the end, he’d stood before him and informed him that he had a choice: Vacate his position and leave the Institute alone, or be destroyed utterly.

Peter Lukas, unsurprisingly, had chosen poorly.

For Jon to subsequently take control of the Institute had been Sasha’s idea, and her points—that Jon was bound to the Institute and would need a reason to stay close to it, that he was the only person who knew enough to keep it running and keep it safe, that anyone else would either make things worse or become corrupted by the Beholder—had been valid. She’d crafted an entire identity for both Jon and Martin and somehow managed to have Dr. Walter Koskiewicz declared Elias Bouchard’s sole heir. Publicly, that was who he was and who he remained, but on the day he’d assumed the position of Institute Head, he had called a meeting of all the department heads and bluntly, concisely, and completely told them the entire truth. He had left it up to each head whether or not to tell their staff everything—although he was emphatic that they be told about the Eye, at least to some extent—and had made it clear that anyone who wanted to quit would be more than welcome to do so, with full severance; he wouldn’t hold it against anyone who chose to leave. But, as he had told Martin that night when he got back from the Institute, he didn’t want anyone else feeling trapped, or to not know they were working for, essentially, a fear god. He’d been far more surprised than Martin when, out of eighty-seven employees, only three had chosen to leave and one had asked for their job back a week later.

Getting the rest of Elias’s estate had taken longer. Obviously there was no body, so what they technically had was a missing person. Surprisingly, it was Daisy who’d pushed that forward by manufacturing proof that he’d been killed in the explosion at Great Yarmouth, claiming she’d followed him there as part of her hunt for Gertrude Robinson’s murderer. When Tim, freshly back in the Archives, looked over the assortment of tapes that had previously been in the tunnels and unerringly plucked the one with Gertrude’s death on it, Daisy’s superiors decided that he was responsible for the House of Wax as well, closed both files, and declared him officially dead.

Jon told Martin that Jonah Magnus had terrible taste in interior decorating. Martin told him he would just have to take his word for it.

Martin tuned back into Jon’s speech as he caught the words that meant he was winding down. He’d been reluctant to agree to this event, especially given what today was, but it was expected, so he’d caved, with a few stipulations. The speech, unfortunately for Jon, was non-negotiable, but at least he was able to keep it fairly short.

“And so, as we move into our third century, I leave you with a few carefully chosen words,” Jon said. “To our Institute donors, I give these words: Thank you for your support of the Magnus Institute over the years, and I hope that you will continue to support us throughout the changes to come. To those who come to the Institute to study and learn, I give these words: Your work furthers ours as much as ours furthers yours, and we look forward to working with you and developing that relationship, now and well into the future. And to you, the Institute employees, those who make this Institute what it is, I give these words…” He paused for a moment, letting the suspense build, and Martin licked the corner of his mouth to hide his smirk. It was obvious from Jon’s voice, though, that he wasn’t bothering to hide his own. “Three-day weekend. See you all on Monday.”

The cheers, applause, and laughter nearly drowned out Jon’s “Thank you”, and Martin let his grin escape as he joined in the applause. He heard the rustling of fabric and guessed what was happening a split-second before Wade’s tap to his elbow told him for sure they were giving Jon a standing ovation.

It went on for nearly a minute solid before it started to die down, and as Martin slowly sank back into his seat, he felt Jon’s gloved fingers tangle in his.

“Almost done,” Martin murmured, knowing Jon was close to his breaking point but would never admit it.

There were a few closing remarks, and then footsteps came over to them. “All right, if you’ll just stand over this way and greet a few people…”

“No more than half an hour. I mean it, Harrison,” Jon warned.

“I know, Mr.—I mean Dr.—uh, sir,” Harrison stammered. “I promise.”

“Mister Doctor Sir?” Martin teased Jon as Harrison walked away. “Sounds like something you’d name a character in Spire.”

“That’s Mister Doctor Director Sir to you.”

They shared a laugh before Martin took a half-step back, cane folded up in one hand and his other resting discreetly against the small of Jon’s back. Jon took a deep breath and straightened himself up, but didn’t move away from the point of contact. They’d learned their lesson one of the first times Jon had had to do an official event. Martin did some of the bookkeeping and budgeting for the Institute—God knew he’d picked up enough being Peter Lukas’s assistant, and Jon knew bugger all about the business side of things—but for the most part, he wasn’t an employee and certainly wasn’t who the more important guests at these events wanted to talk to, so he’d stepped back and stayed quietly in the background. Unfortunately, the Lukases were still Institute donors, and even if they avoided Jon beyond the bare minimum that politeness dictated, the presence of even one was still enough for Martin to slip back into old habits. Thank God the bond Annabelle had put on them was still extant and he’d been able to pull himself back, but it had still been a scary few minutes for both of them.

Most of the donors who spoke to Jon—briefly, Harrison was being as good as his word about limiting the official greetings—either ignored Martin or only acknowledged him with a silent nod, which amounted to the same thing. For the most part, Martin didn’t mind, but he could tell it was getting to Jon long before the fifteen-minute mark.

“Last one, sir, I promise,” Harrison whispered at last.

“Harrison, I have told you about the ‘sir’ thing,” Jon muttered. Martin hastily turned his laugh into a cough.

“Dr. Koskiewicz, so good to see you again.” Martin couldn’t place the speaker’s voice except that it was posh, which meant it was an Institute donor, and loud. Probably belonged to a large man, almost certainly an older one.

“It’s an honor to have you here, Sir Henry,” Jon replied, his voice slightly strained. Martin guessed that the man had a very firm handshake; an ordinary hand would be swollen and sore after half an hour of shaking, but the scarring on Jon’s made it far worse. “And you as well, Lady Vane-Tempest.”

“Lovely party, darling, so kind of you to invite us,” Lady Vane-Tempest said. Her voice, at least, Martin couldn’t forget—well-bred, but harsh and grating at the same time. He’d met the Vane-Tempests at the Christmas “party” he’d been forced to run on behalf of Peter Lukas and had not enjoyed the experience. “Congratulations on two hundred years. Obviously you haven’t been here the whole time, of course!” She trilled with laughter.

Martin felt Jon stiffen, and then he said with forced politeness, “Thank whatever gods you believe in that I haven’t, madam.”

“Looking forward to touring the building,” Sir Henry said. “Understand you’ve got some new interesting new acquisitions in your Artifact Storage. Love to see them.”

“We’re not doing tours this evening, I’m afraid,” Jon said. “That was the end of the gala, but it’s good of you to come. If you’ll get in touch with Ms. Zampano, I’m sure we can arrange a suitable time for you to see the building.”

“Oh, come now, darling, surely you can spare some time now,” Lady Vane-Tempest coaxed. If Martin was any judge, she’d been imbibing freely of the champagne, enough to get at least slightly tipsy. “We’re so looking forward to it.”

“I do apologize, but I have another commitment this evening.” Martin was a bit startled when Jon’s arm slid around his waist, but he willingly shifted his own position to return the gesture. The smile in Jon’s voice was obvious; he’d never been very good at hiding his pride and delight in anything to do with their relationship. “It’s our first wedding anniversary, you see.”

The Vane-Tempests mumbled polite congratulations, wished Jon a good night, and moved away. Jon let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his toes and sagged against Martin. “Thank God that’s over with.”

“That’s the last one,” Harrison promised. “I’ll just go say a few words to the press. Have a good weekend and—um—happy anniversary?”

“Thank you,” Jon and Martin said in unison. Martin unfolded his cane, and they walked out of the Institute the same way they had since escaping Peter Lukas in their own time—arm in arm.

Ninety minutes later and Martin, wearing his most comfortable sweater and a soft, threadbare pair of jeans, walked into the room they had designated as the “living room” with two mugs of tea and set them on the heavy, solid coffee table. “How’s the hand?”

“Still a bit sore, but I’ll recover.” Jon’s voice sounded slightly muffled. Martin wasn’t sure why until he heard the soft crackle of burning wood, and then Jon was right next to him and pulling him down for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martin murmured, brushing his nose against Jon’s. As he pulled back, he added, “By the way, there was a message from the agency. They’re coming by for another assessment tomorrow, around noon.”

“Good thing I gave everyone the day off, then. Did she say anything about how the application is looking?”

“I don’t know that they’d tell us that on a message. We can ask when she gets here.”

The doorbell rang with the deep, sonorous tones Martin still privately felt belonged in a Gothic soap opera, and Jon sighed and slid out of Martin’s arms. “Bets on who got here first?”

“Not against you,” Martin informed him. Jon’s snickers followed him out of the room.

After more than a year of living in the house, Martin knew his way around by heart, especially after they redid the flooring so that he could tell by the texture beneath his feet which way he was heading. He made it to the front door without bumping into anything, made sure the chain was still secure, and pulled the door open to the length of the chain. “Who goes there?”

“Just the usual suspects,” Tim’s voice said. “We even found a Sasha rattling around in the gutters.”

“Shut up, Tim,” Sasha said, a bit grouchily.

Martin chuckled and closed the door enough that he could undo the chain, then pulled the door open. “Come on in. There’s a fire going.”

Each one of them gave him a hug as they came in, prefaced by a greeting so he’d know who he was hugging. He was pleasantly surprised when, after a fierce hug from Melanie, he heard a higher voice say, “It’s Georgie. Will you accept one from me?”

“Oh, sure, of course.” Martin hadn’t worried about any of Jon’s exes, or anyone who might possibly catch his interest and remind him that he could do better, since—well, actually, since they’d been reunited after traveling back in time, but the weight of the ring on his left hand and the memory of the tremble in Jon’s voice as he’d promised ‘til death comes for us both had finally quieted the last of his doubts. And Georgie did give good hugs. “Glad you could make it, Georgie. Anyone else?”

“No, Basira pulled a night shift tonight, I think. Here, let me get that.” Georgie—or someone, anyway—pulled the heavy door shut and slid the chain into place. “Hope we’re not too early.”

Martin shook his head. “You’re fine. Not like we’re doing anything particularly exciting.”

It took a few minutes of arranging, playful debates, and mostly-joking grumblings about getting those disgusting socks away from the food, Timothy Stoker, but soon everyone was settled down with something to drink and a baked good from the basket the others had brought with them. Jon sighed with obvious pleasure and curled up against Martin’s side; Martin wrapped an arm around him and held him close.

“Where’s Charlie tonight?” he asked.

“Late rehearsal, and Sasha’s uncle offered to pick him up and watch him after,” Present Jon answered. “We’d have brought him along, but he’s got a maths exam tomorrow and I know he’s not ready for it.”

Tim laughed. “Come on, Jon, cut him some slack. He’s doing much better this term than he did in the spring.”

“To be fair,” Melanie pointed out, “there was kind of a lot going on in the spring.”

There was a hum of agreement before Georgie added, “From everything you lot told me, I didn’t expect that grandmother of his to fight you so hard on custody.”

Present Martin sighed heavily. “I did. I mean, the last thing she wanted was for people to think she was a terrible guardian, you know? Even if Children’s Services didn’t get involved and take him away, the very fact that someone else dared ask to take him—and the fact that Charlie wanted to go…”

“And the fact that you kept insisting on referring to him as him, despite the fact that she has consistently and for his entire life refused to accept that he’s a boy,” Sasha put in. “She’s a poisonous old witch and he’s lucky to be shed of her. But yeah, between that and the fact that he got anxious and panicky and afraid to let any of you out of his sight—you know, at the beginning of April—it’s no wonder he came close to failing the spring term.”

There was a short pause before Present Martin asked carefully, “Did he tell you that, or…?”

“Oh, goddammit,” Sasha sighed. “He didn’t say anything to any of you about that, did he?”

“No, but we should have noticed,” Present Jon said quietly.

Melanie snorted. “I’m not sure how you would have, considering how clingy the three of you were being.”

Martin tightened his arms around Jon as the Archives crew began bickering, mostly lightheartedly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. During their first time experiencing…well, everything they had experienced…he and Jon had never really had a chance to stop and consider anniversaries. The one-year anniversary of Jane Prentiss attacking the Institute had fallen while they were trying to get ready for the Unknowing; the one-year anniversary of that had been while Martin was still having to avoid Jon, but he remembered staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondering if he would be better off calling out of work or if he should go in and lurk in the shadows of the Archives to reassure himself that Jon was actually still there. Passing the anniversaries—or, for that matter, the dates themselves—in a timeline where they didn’t technically happen hadn’t made things significantly better, so he could definitely understand why the present crew had been reluctant to be far from each other a year after so nearly losing one another, and more particularly nearly losing Tim.

Jon sank against him, also clinging tightly, and let the banter go on for a bit before he broke in. “Have you told Charlie about the trip?”

“We’re going to surprise him after school tomorrow,” Tim said, and Martin was pretty sure he could hear the relief in it. “Hope he likes the plan. He’s been asking to come with us the next time we go out of town since Jon got back from Jonah’s little hell-quest, and I don’t think he’s ever been out of London.”

“Well…you weren’t conscious at the time, but they did bring him to visit while you were…” Present Jon’s voice trailed off.

Martin was about to say something when something solid and heavy hit his leg on four tiny pressure points and screamed. Only six months of practice enabled him not to jump completely out of his skin. “Hello, Duchess.”

“Oh, damn, I didn’t feed them before the gala.” Jon carefully disentangled himself from Martin and removed the solid iron weight masquerading as a ball of fur from his lap. “Come along, Your Grace. What have you done with your sister?”

Martin couldn’t help the soft smile that touched his lips as he stared off in the direction Jon had gone. Hearing him talk to the cats in that tone of voice always did something funny to his insides.

The smirk in Melanie’s voice was obvious. “I genuinely can’t decide which one of you is going to be the bigger pushover when you get approved to adopt.”

“Have you heard anything yet?” Present Martin asked.

“There’s another visit scheduled tomorrow. We’re almost four months into this part of the process. I’m hoping we’ll have an answer soon.” Martin picked up his mug of tea and took a sip. It had started to cool a bit, but it was still drinkable. “Not that we’re in a hurry or anything, but it’d be nice to know, you know?”

“I could probably poke at your social worker’s mind and see if they have an answer,” Sasha offered. “It’d be easy.”

“Sasha, we’ve talked about this,” Present Jon said with an audible frown.

“Yeah, if I can manage to keep myself under control…” Tim trailed off. “Sorry, Georgie. I know you’d rather we didn’t talk about it.”

“It’s fine,” Georgie said with a sigh. “I’m getting used to it. It’s not like any of you can just…stop being what you are. Did—um—did your Georgie have a problem with it?”

It was the first time she’d asked about her past self since being introduced to Jon and Martin over a year ago, and Martin couldn’t explain why it felt so weird. “She did. At first, anyway. But I think it was less the whole…supernatural fear thing and more the fact that we—and particularly Jon—kept acting like nothing was wrong.”

“Yeah. At least you lot admit this is messed up.”

“Not so much the admitting it’s messed up as trying from the get-go not to play into it,” Jon’s voice said from the direction of the kitchen. The loveseat bounced slightly—very slightly—as he sat down, leaned into Martin’s side, and kissed his cheek. “Your cat is a menace.”

“Why is she only my cat when she’s misbehaving?” Martin teased, turning his head to capture Jon’s lips with his own before they moved away. “What’s Cosmic done now?”

“Just the fact that you know it was Cosmic Creepers—”

“The Duchess has made it very clear that she’s your cat.”

Sasha gave a mock-groan. “You two as actual parents are going to be insufferable.”

Melanie’s snort was practically elephantine. “Like you don’t have the three of these with Charlie as evidence for that.”

Martin sensed the remark calculated to cause maximum chaos coming before Tim opened his mouth, but there was nothing he could do to head him off. “So, Melanie, when are you and Georgie going to add a bundle of joy to your family?”

The resultant storm of profanity and invective directed at Tim sent Jon into paroxysms of laughter, and from the sound of it, Present Jon as well. Martin could imagine Tim’s triumphant, shit-eating grin. Even Sasha was giggling.

“Seriously. I don’t even want more than one cat,” Georgie finally said when the chaos wound down. “Children have never been in my plans. Not even remotely.”

“Have you ever thought about fostering?” Present Martin asked. “Teens, maybe? I bet you’d be good at it.”

A short silence followed the question, and when Melanie answered, there was a note of surprise in her voice. “Maybe. Not right now, though.”

“I guess my question is—and please, none of you take this the wrong way—why would you want to involve a child in the…life you’re all leading?” Georgie asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No more than being a child is dangerous anyway,” Jon said. “Most of the fears don’t…a child’s fear isn’t fully formed, so it’s not as satisfying, but that doesn’t mean they don’t pay attention. I was marked young. So was Annabelle Cane. Callum Brodie was on the Dark’s radar long before Rayner chose him as a vessel. A-apparently the End was paying attention to all of us before my father died. A child being taken care of by someone who knows what’s out there, and isn’t…enamored with it, I suppose, stands a better chance than a child wholly unprepared.”

Martin rubbed Jon’s arm. “Besides. The more connections you have outside the Archives, the harder it is for the Fears to…use you. I guess. Even besides the Lonely, the more isolated you are, the easier you are to hurt.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Present Jon said, sounding like he was talking half to himself. “But it does make sense why Jonah tried so hard to pit us against one another. A person with no support is far more vulnerable. Far easier to use and manipulate.”

“And that’s what beat him in the end,” Melanie said. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Hear, hear.” Martin raised his mug in salute. Someone clinked a mug or glass against it, and the conversation drifted to other, less volatile topics.

They’d done this a lot over the last year. Ever since Jon, or his alter ego, had officially inherited the estate, they spent more evenings and weekends here than they did in Tim, Present Martin, and Present Jon’s house. First there’d been the intense repainting and redecorating period, during which Martin had offered deadpan commentary on color choices until Jon threatened to paint his mouth shut and Tim had unearthed more than a few artifacts belonging to other entities in various nooks and crannies. Once they were settled in, there had been pizza and pasta-making parties, movie marathons, drinks after hard weeks, and game nights. They’d come over to wrestle the garden into submission in the spring, helped decorate the house for Christmas, and watched fireworks on New Year’s from the widow’s walk on the roof. Jon had even organized an Easter Egg hunt for the neighborhood children, which had been when Martin had finally broached the idea of reaching out to the local authority about beginning the adoption process.

And exactly one year ago tonight, they had stood in the drawing room they never otherwise used and finally, finally made the bond between them a legal one.

“I can’t believe you two are spending your anniversary like this,” Sasha said, and if Martin didn’t know for a fact that she couldn’t read his mind beyond finding a back door into his dreams when Jon’s lay alongside her, he’d have told her off for it. “You’re such hopeless romantics, I expected you to go out for a candlelit dinner somewhere. Moonlit stroll in the park. Kissing under the stars.”

“It’s Thursday,” Martin reminded her.

“We’re going to Scotland for the weekend,” Jon said. “That’s part of the reason I gave everyone a three-day weekend, so we could get an early start and make the most of it.”

“I accuse you of abusing your position for your own gain,” Georgie said, but she was laughing as she did so.

“I’ll confess to that,” Jon replied immediately. Martin couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, we—it’s going to be a nice, relaxing weekend, but we thought spending the evening with our family would be a good start.”

Something thumped down on the coffee table. Martin guessed it was Melanie’s glass. “You know what I can’t believe? That you picked the eighteenth of October to get married. I mean, you know literally everything in the world, and certainly everything about the Institute. You had to know that was the day the Institute was founded. And then you had to spend your first anniversary making nice with the donors. Why would you do that?”

Martin looked in Jon’s direction. “You want to tell them, or shall I?”

Jon sighed heavily and dropped his head to Martin’s shoulder. “You go ahead. I’d rather not say it out loud.”

“Uh-oh.” Tim sounded worried. “This is…what happened on the eighteenth of October, 2017 in your timeline?”

“Bugger all,” Martin replied. “It was today. In our original timeline, this was when Jonah slipped his ritual into a statement and fed it to Jon against his will. Eighteenth October, 2018.” He ran his hand through Jon’s hair, which had fallen out of its braid. “We didn’t want to wait until this year to get married, but we’d already agreed that we wanted it to be the eighteenth. We wanted to take back the day Jonah Magnus tried to ruin and make it ours.”

“To replace the memories,” Present Martin said softly.

“Exactly. He’s taken too damn much from us already. We’re not letting him have everything.” Martin pressed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head.

“So where in Scotland are you going?” Present Jon asked.

“John O’Groats. It’s—Daisy used to have a safehouse up there,” Jon explained. “Well, she still has the house, but she’s just renting it out to vacationers these days. She told us we could use it for free a couple times a year as a thank-you for helping her get the Hunt under control.”

“Yeah, Basira says she’s a lot more relaxed than she was when she was a cop,” Sasha said. “If you can believe it. Is that where you two stayed…um, up until the eighteenth of October?”

“Yep.” Martin popped the P in a method that, he hoped, would indicate the subject is closed and you should not push further, Sasha James.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Georgie was the next to speak up. “What about you three? Do you have plans for your trip to America or is it just more of a ramble?”

“We were planning to visit Boston,” Present Martin answered. “Lots of history, lots of walking trails, lots of potentially haunted stuff. But…well, Jon changed things around a couple weeks ago and he’s been vague about what we’re doing now.”

“Oh.” Present Jon sounded both embarrassed and excited. “I—ah—I’m sorry, I got so…I completely forgot I hadn’t told you. I managed to track down my cousin. You know, the one I stayed with for a bit before starting uni? He moved to a new town about the time I started at the Institute, actually. Apparently he’s married now. His husband sounds…um, interesting. And he wants to meet you two—and Charlie, too. I actually managed to get us tickets out there. I—I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind getting the chance to meet a relative that not only doesn’t hate you, but doesn’t care you’re in a relationship with two other men and is excited about the idea of meeting us? Of course we do, it sounds horrific, why would you do something like that,” Tim said flatly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jon, we’d love to meet your cousin.”

“It’ll be fun,” Present Martin agreed. “Did you ever…I mean, have you met him?”

It took Martin a second to realize the question was directed at him. “Honestly, until you all started talking about him, I didn’t even know Jon had a cousin.”

“I’d love to see him again,” Jon said, a bit wistfully. “I do miss him. I suppose asking you to pass on my best wishes would be a little much, but…”

“I’m going to tell him,” Present Jon said softly. “About all of this. I think he deserves to know, and…I think he can handle it.”

“Well. Give me a call if you get the chance. I’d love to talk to him.”

“Of course.” Present Jon hesitated. “I—um, I think he might have a couple…statements. Something about the way he said ‘scientifically interesting’ when talking about the town. I’m going to tell him about…this, and us, and what we can do. Let him decide if he wants to share.”

Jon made a slightly pained noise, but Martin rubbed his arm soothingly and said, “You’ll probably need something. At least Tim will. That’s—you’ll be too far from the Institute for too long not to take a statement or two. Better if it’s someone willing, wouldn’t you say?”

Tim took a deep breath. “Does it ever get any easier? Needing to—sensing in your case, or seeing in mine, that someone has a statement, and needing it so badly?”

“Not really,” Jon admitted. “It’s why I don’t go out alone so often. The trouble is that sometimes it helps them and sometimes it…doesn’t, and you can never tell before they tell their stories whether it will or not. The Eye likes it better when it’s…forced, but the Eye can honestly get stuffed. We’re doing this on our terms.”

“Hell yeah,” Tim said with a laugh. Jon leaned forward at Martin’s side, and from the sounds, he guessed they were bumping their fists together.

They spent about another hour together, talking and laughing and generally relaxing. Finally, though, Present Martin asked, “How early were you two planning to head out?”

“Not until early afternoon. The social worker is coming, remember?” Martin shrugged. “But if you lot want to get going…”

“Yes, we—we should probably make sure Charlie’s in bed, and I’m sure Wade is ready to be released,” Present Jon said. There were a number of rustles and creaks as everyone got to their feet, and Martin stood, too, stretching out his spine. “Call us when you get there.”

“We will. Let us know when you get to America,” Jon replied.

“Are you taking the cats, or do you want us to stop by and look after them?” Melanie asked.

Martin paused and looked in Jon’s direction. He could practically feel his thoughts flowing between them, running through the bond Annabelle had put on them like a telegraph wire. “Well, we were going to take them, but…actually, would you mind?”

“Of course not. We’d be delighted,” Georgie said.

Jon squeezed Martin’s waist, then slid away. “Come here, then, let me show you where we keep the food.”

Martin saw the others to the door and handed out another round of hugs. Jon arrived with Georgie just before they pulled away, so was at least able to wave, and he hugged both Georgie and Melanie and thanked them again. And then it was just the two of them, alone in their house, and together.

Jon shut and latched the door, then took Martin’s hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Close your eyes and follow me.”

Martin smiled more broadly, but he did as Jon asked. Jon led him through the house and up three flights of stairs. It somehow didn’t surprise Martin when Jon pushed open a final door and he heard the soft sounds of an autumn evening.

“Stargazing?” he teased.

“It is a good night for it,” Jon said, not rising to the bait. “But no, not what I had in mind.” He tugged Martin forward a few feet, then added, “You can open your eyes now.”

Martin didn’t point out that it wouldn’t do any good; he simply opened his eyes. He could smell roses and peonies, he thought—the same flowers they’d decorated the drawing room with for their wedding. There was a soft click, and a tape recorder began playing—which made him smile—and then Jon was there and holding his hands. “Can I have this dance?”

Martin’s smile broadened as he recognized the song. “For the rest of your life.”

Martin let Jon lead him, singing quietly along with the music as he did so. He was still barefoot and it was a bit cold on the widow’s walk for that, but he didn’t care. It was the song they’d chosen as their first dance at their wedding, something of a fast waltz, but the lyrics had struck both of them as being so very them. As soon as Martin realized that, he also realized that this was probably the tape Tim had made for them to play at their wedding. It had been their way of ensuring that Annabelle, if she was still listening, would be able to be a part of things, too.

They still made a point of shooing out spiders and cleaning out cobwebs, but the tapes? Those could stay.

When the first song was over, rather than let Jon go, Martin simply shifted his grip and took the lead for the second song on the tape—the first song they had ever danced to, in Tim and Present Martin and Present Jon’s kitchen the night they’d moved in. He pulled Jon closer, letting their foreheads touch, and sang along to that one as well. He could feel Jon shiver in his arms and knew, knew, it wasn’t the cold that was doing it.

They slowed to a stop just before the song ended. Jon slid his arms around Martin’s neck and simply held him; Martin wrapped his around Jon’s waist and pulled him even closer until their bodies were flush, until they were practically fused into a single person.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” Jon whispered back. “Happy anniversary, Martin.”

“Happy anniversary.” Martin leaned forward and kissed him thoroughly.

Jon kissed him back, deeply and intensely and with all the emotions they had built up between them over the years: loneliness and desperation and fear, love and tenderness and hope. They had fought their damnedest for a moment they thought would never come, and now that it had, Martin was going to savor it. This and every other moment that ever could be.

At last, the need for air forced them to separate, and Jon laughed quietly. “You know what I didn’t think through about this?”

“We’re still barefoot?” Martin guessed.

“We are still barefoot,” Jon agreed. “And I’m still rather…worn out from the day. What do you say we go inside, shut the cats in their room for the night, and make use of that oversized tub in the downstairs bath?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Martin said. He kissed Jon again, very softly, and then stepped back. “Lead on, Mr. Blackwood-Sims.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Blackwood-Sims,” Jon drawled. He stopped the tape with a gentle click, then laced his fingers through Martin’s, the metal of his wedding band smooth and cool against his fingers as it rolled over the webbing between them. “Come on, my love.”

Hand-in-hand, Martin and Jon, the man he’d loved for years, the man he’d fought for, fought with, the reason he had survived apocalypse after apocalypse, his anchor—his husband—turned away from the world they had somehow managed to save and into their home, into the future they had made.

Together.

[readyourimgaines]

The Little Things

Summary: Derek knew fully well that moving in with Spencer was going to bring around some changes. Dr. Spencer Reid was different and Derek loved him for it. There were little quirks that the doctor showed at work and some Derek was still learning. So there must be some at home.

And a special thanks, of course, to @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ for helping me compile this list!

1. Alphabetizing Movies by Title

“Pretty Boy?” Derek was crouched down in front of their TV looking for their movie while Spencer did the dishes. The latter hadn’t seen Happy Gilmore and Derek couldn’t let that stand. 

“Yeah?” Spencer called from the kitchen. 

“I can’t find it?”

“What?” Spencer stepped away from the sink and went to the living room. Water dripped from his fingertips. “The movies are alphabetical. It’s between Hamlet and Ice Age.” He went to Derek’s side and gestured to the movie. “I was going to order them by director, but Hotch said most people don’t know directors very well. Which is a shame because J.J. Abrams destroyed Star Trek but Guy Riche-” 

Derek pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips with a fond smile. Spencer blinked. 

“Sorry,” the doctor blushed. 

Derek just chuckled. “You know you’re adorable, right, Pretty Boy?” 

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” Spencer laughed. 

“You can tell me all about directors later,” Derek promised. “I know a bit about the mainstream guys, but not a whole lot.”

“All you really need to know is that J.J. Abrams kills anything he touches and Peter Jackson doesn’t get as much attention as he should.”

*****

2. Morning Rituals

One thing that Derek very quickly learned about Spencer was that he 

had a specifically timed morning ritual when not on a case. And that if it was broken or disturbed, the whole rest of the day would go down hill like a train on greased tracks. 

He woke up at 6:17, was in the shower by 6:25, eating breakfast by 7:00, his bed made by 7:30, and shoes on his feet by 7:32. The last half hour before they left at 8:00 was free game. 

The first morning in their new place was the roughest. Spencer went 

about his usual morning, but Derek didn’t usually wake up until 7:45 because he took less time to get ready and ate in the car. So when Spencer finished breakfast and went back to their room to make the bed but Derek was still asleep… He paced for the next fifteen minutes and his head nearly went through the ceiling when Derek’s alarm went off. 

Spencer almost had a panic attack as he fumbled his way through making their bed and cramming his feet into his shoes. Needless to say, the extra half hour was spent- in vain- trying to calm the doctor down. None of the rest of the day lined up properly and Spencer was on edge and fidgety. Hotch even had to gently remind him to focus a few more times than the usual redirection of infodumps. 

That was the first and only time Derek didn’t follow Spencer’s morning routine. He found the same day that Spencer had a much simpler night ritual: Snack (sometimes) at 10:10, teeth brushed by 10:25, in bed by 10:35, reading until (supposed to be) 11:18, and then lights out. This routine was much more flexible and relaxed.

Derek found waking up and going to bed at the same time every day made the former much easier. He also found that Spencer reading to him most nights- no matter the book or topic- was very relaxing. And of course there were nights when Derek read to Spencer.

*****

3. Sugary Coffee

Derek took a sip of coffee from his travel cup and whistled. “Think I got yours, Pretty Boy. There’s enough sugar in this to hype up a six year old’s birthday party.” 

Spencer braced himself and took a sip of the coffee in his own cup. He was pleasantly relieved when the bitterly sharp taste expected never came. “I-I put sugar in both of them. I wasn’t thinking,” he said sheepishly. 

Derek shrugged. “You know what they say: I’ll try anything once.” He chuckled. “I’ll just brush my teeth for an extra three minutes.” 

Spencer scoffed as he got into the passenger seat of Derek’s car. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it. You don’t get the caffeine drop when the eight hour half-life is over.” 

“Is that why you put so much sugar in coffee?” Derek raised an eyebrow, thinking he already knew the answer. 

“And coffee tastes like battery acid. I’d rather drink vinegar than black coffee.” Spencer shuddered. 

Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything else as he pulled onto the street.

*****

4. Cuddly Sleeper

Even though Spencer wasn’t huge on PDA like Derek was, he sure was a cuddly guy. The second the door closed, he was a six foot koala. That included in bed- but usually not until after he was asleep. 

Some nights, Spencer would fall asleep reading. So Derek would take his book, close it, gently remove Spencer’s glasses, and turn out the lamp. Nine times out of ten, Spencer was curled up against his side before Derek was asleep himself. 

At first, Derek found himself wondering why Spencer wasn’t nestled against him before sleep took him. But after a while, it sunk in that the doctor unwound by reading. 

The look on Spencer’s face when he curled into Derek’s side always sent the older man over the moon. The absolute peace on the doctor’s face. One night, Derek almost woke Spencer up laughing. Derek rolled over to out the lamp and Spencer had gripped Derek’s arm tighter and whined in his sleep. Derek then had to assure his boyfriend- in soft whispers as to not actually wake him up- that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Spencer never thought to question why his book and glasses were gone when he woke up.

*****

5. Leaves Books Everywhere

Anyone who had a 30 second conversation with Spencer- anyone who glanced at Spencer- could tell the man read more than he did anything else. 

Derek picked up the doctor’s satchel once and was moderately surprised the slim man hadn’t dislocated his shoulder with how heavy the bag was. But Spencer didn’t only keep books in his bag. No. They were all over the place. 

Their bedroom, the craft room where Derek made floor plans for his renovations, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. Even both bathrooms and the basement. 

When the two first moved in together, Derek debated building an extension onto the living room for a library. He still debated it from time to time (just in case). But as time wore on, Derek grew to appreciate the countless (if seemingly random) books around the house. 

Spencer would read when Derek was working on floorplans, so Derek would read when Spencer worked on an academic paper or consult. 

“What’re you reading?” Spencer asked one night, finally looking up from his notebook. He was writing an essay on how handwriting analysis could help catch a serial killer and/or rapist. 

“I don’t even know,” Derek chortled. “Uh..” he looked at the cover, “it’s Introduction to Law by Joanne Banker and Yvonne Ekern.” 

“Oh! Hotch loaned that to me yesterday,” Spencer noted. “I should get that back to him soon.” 

Derek just shook his head. “You know, Pretty Boy, I didn’t read this much in college.”

Spencer smiled. “See? Maybe there’s a good side to not spending thousands of dollars on building a library,” he teased.

6. The Nightlight

In the bedroom, in the outlet closest to the door was a nightlight. But not just any night light. This nightlight made the move in the front pocket of Spencer’s satchel. 

“So what’s the story behind this platypus, Pretty Boy?” Derek had to ask one night as Spencer turned it on. “Because you’ve had this since before we were dating.” 

“My uh- my mom’s went on a sort of field trip with her hospital a couple years ago. It was on one of her good days. She saw this in the aquarium’s gift shop and bought it for me.”

“That’s pretty cute,” Derek encouraged. He knew Spencer didn’t open up about his mom often so Derek tried to learn everything he could about the woman during the rare occurrences. 

“We named him,” Spencer laughed. “Alfred Nicholas Brian Reid.” He giggled. “I just… He helps.”

*****

+1. Bleeding/Infected Hangnails

Spencer usually had something to stim or fidget with. A strip of paper, a pen or pencil to twirl, a shirt with a loose thread, something. On the off chance that he didn’t, the doctor somehow decided that his fingers were good enough. If Spencer didn’t have a hangnail, he’d start one. 

This was the one and only thing about Doctor Spencer Reid that Derek Morgan hated. He could see the minute flinch when Spencer held a utensil wrong and it pressed on the swollen skin. He heard the soft hiss when Spencer got tomato or orange juice in the broken skin. 

What Derek hated even more than that was when the hangnail would get infected. The skin around the nail or turn a greenish-yellow and harden. Which, in turn, gave Spencer another thing to pick at. 

“Pretty Boy, you gotta stop,” Derek sighed. He’d gone into a convenience store to get them something other than coffee- but tastier than water- to drink. While inside, he bought a box of Band-Aids and a tube of anti-bacterial cream. 

Spencer snapped out of his daze. “What?”

“Picking at your nails.” To prove his point, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his to show him, as well as to stop his current picking. “I know you’re worried about the case, Baby, but we’ll catch the son of a bitch and put his ass behind bars like we always do. You gotta stop destroying your hands.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” he admitted. 

“I know,” Derek said softly. He applied the cream and a Band-Aid to each finger that needed it (five in total between both hands). “We just gotta get you a couple of those fidget cubes Garcia has.”

Tag List: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfood​

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Wed By Candlelight (The Portrait of the Secret Bride)

Supercorp/The Corpse Bride AU

Kara inherits the old ancestral house in Argo when she turns twenty-eight. 

She’s never been there before, never even heard about it -- until she learns about the provision in Alura’s will two weeks after she announces her engagement to Mon-El, and the crusty old executor of her mother’s estate tells Kara that the house is hers, should she want it.

But only if she gets married there, like Alura and all the women in her mother’s family were.

Two weeks into planning the wedding at the elegant old house, surrounded by family and friends who are rushing about to get everything ready for her special day, Kara’s still not sure she made the right decision. 

She’s always been curious about her mother’s family. Even when Alura was still alive, before she was adopted by the Danvers family, Kara never heard much about the Inze family. She knows vaguely that they were well-to-do, but since they moved to Metropolis when Kara was a baby, she never had much of a connection to Argo. Even less when her parents died, and she’d had to move to Midvale.

It’s a beautiful house, Kara thinks. Elegant furnishings, exquisite moldings, and vast open windows to let in the light. It’s warm and open and inviting. She couldn’t have found a more perfect venue for her wedding, even in National City. No wonder the women in her mother’s family always chose to get married here.

But apparently, this wasn’t the only tradition her mother had neglected to share before her death. The antique necklace now hiding in Kara’s pocket is apparently another heirloom Kara has never heard of -- passed down from bride to bride in the Inze family in a generations-old tradition that started almost two hundred years ago. Eliza had suggested that she make it her “something old” at her wedding. 

The wedding that she isn’t even sure about.

It’s not that she doesn’t love Mon-El. They’ve been together for years. It’s just that.... things aren’t always so peachy between them. And marriage, well, marriage is so permanent. At least it is for Kara.

And for her parents too. It’s been so long, and while it hurts a little to think about them, one thing she always remembers about Alura and Zor El is that they were so in love. They filled their home, and Kara’s life with their love for each other, and their love for her. Married for fifteen years, and they were devoted to each other until their last breath.

Is that what she and Mon-El really have?

And all of these new things that have been shoved at her since finding out about her mother’s family. Looking through this house that is somehow disconnected, yet a part of her, seeing the legacy that her family left behind.... It feels a little  like she's cheapening it by going through with a marriage to someone she can only get along with for short periods of time before everything inevitably devolves into an argument.

Kara goes for a walk to clear her head. She’s been doing this a lot lately, and a small part of her feels that if she walks far enough, she can leave this whole mess behind.

There’s a trail she’s been following for the past week that she’s found she likes a lot. It’s deserted and a little overgrown, but there’s a sort of tranquility to it as she walks slowly, dried leaves crunching under her boots.

She’d found the graveyard last week, and she’s been going there every day. It's really old, the tombstones are nearly crumbling with age, and there's something..... melancholic about the place. Something sad.

But Kara doesn’t mind. She feels a strange sort of calm here. It's quiet here, no one's fussing over Kara about venues and flowers and seating charts that she really couldn't care less about.

She walks over to her favorite grave, an old tombstone she’d found when she first got there, covered with vines and leaves until Kara had brushed them off and found the name ‘Lena Luthor’ carved into the crumbling, weathered stone. 

She’s visited the site ever since, feeling that vague sense of melancholy again. This person had died almost two hundred years ago. Whoever this Lena Luthor was, she was the same age when she died as Kara is now. For some reason, that makes her inexplicably sad.

Today, she comes bearing a few flowers from the arrangement Eliza had been draping over the church pews. Kara had been planning to place them at the old grave, to brighten things up a bit. 

But before she can approach the familiar tombstone, she hears a quiet sobbing sound. She sees a pale figure kneeling beside the grave, and at first, Kara thinks she's a mourner. Though why another person would be there mourning someone who had passed two hundred years ago, Kara doesn't know --disregarding the fact that that's what she’s been doing every day for the past week.

“Hello?” Kara keeps her voice quiet to avoid spooking this other mourner. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll leave you to it, but I just wanted to make sure -- are you okay?”

The sobbing stops as Kara comes closer, and the pale figure rises. And Kara's jaw drops, as the light reveals that the pale figure is actually a woman -- a very stunning, ethereally beautiful woman.... who is dressed in a bloodstained wedding dress.

What the fuck?

And not just a little bit of blood. The whole front of the dress has been dyed red with blood. And Kara can see where her dress has been slashed open to expose torn, jagged flesh, and Kara gags a little bit.

Before Kara can cry out -- in confusion? Fear? Panic? Before she can even think to make sure that the other woman is okay -- there's no way she is, not with that much blood on her dress -- the other woman turns, and her eyes fix on Kara's, piercing her where she stands. 

A slender hand reaches out, fingers trembling, and pearl-like tears slip down her pale cheeks. 

"Kara...?”  Her voice is soft and tremulous, and Kara is frozen, watching her trembling, bloody hand reach out to touch her face. 

It never does. Kara can see those fingers brushing her face, but she feels nothing. As if the woman in front of her isn’t real. “You’ve come back to me....”

The shock of it breaks the spell. Kara stumbles in her haste to back away from those bloody, outstretched fingers. The other woman steps forward, murmuring her name again, and Kara finally manages to make her legs work. She scrambles to her feet and runs away, nearly missing the trail in her fright.

In her haste, she drops the white flowers she’d brought and crushes them into the dirt with her boot.

_________

When Kara gets back to the house, she tells no one about what happened.

That was... that was just a crazy hallucination, brought on by all the stress of wedding planning and inheritance laws and every crazy little thing she’s been through the past two weeks.

When Mon-El asks where she’s been, she responds with a tight smile that she’s just been out walking. When Alex asks why she’s so pale, she reassures her she’s fine, and accepts the cup of tea she offers before retreating to her room.

That’s the first night Kara dreams of her.

In her dreams, she is still beautiful and otherworldly, but her dress is pristine. Her pale skin is smooth and unmarred, painted amber in the thin light cast by their solitary candle.

In her dreams, Kara knows her name, whispers it into the skin of her shoulder as she slowly unlaces her corset. This is her favorite time of the night, when her lady’s mother is in bed, and Kara has Lena all to herself. When the marionette strings holding Lena up are cut and she falls, eager and pliant, into Kara’s arms.  Lena’s rigid spine melts like candlewax under the heat of her fingers, and she sighs so prettily as her chemise falls to the floor, unheeded.

“I’m sorry about today.” Lena turns around at her vanity, facing Kara. Her eyes are mournful and tired, and Kara’s heart aches for her. “The things Lillian said--”

“That is how one is supposed to talk to the maid.” She makes a half-hearted attempt at mimicking Lillian, but it falls flat, and Lena merely grips her collar with angry fingers. “I’m used to it. You, on the other hand, should stop antagonizing her when she does, or she’ll end up starving you until Christmas.”

“I don’t care! She went too far.” Lena protests in a heated whisper as she pulls Kara closer by her collar, their foreheads touching. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

Kara savors the warmth of her lady’s breath against her cheek, and her hand comes up to mold against Lena’s neck and jaw. “Nor should you.”

Their lips come together in a fierce kiss, tender and hungry, softness yielding to desperation. Lena tastes bittersweet and oh, how Kara loves the taste of her. Kara loves her, and she wants to yell at the unfairness of a world that would ever hurt her lady. She wants to scream and cry and rage at how unfair it is that the only love Lena has ever received is in this cold, damp room lit only by the last of the candles Kara can light for her. Kara loves her so much, she aches with it, with the need to show her just how much. 

Her hands slip over smooth, quivering skin, and as she pulls away from the kiss, Kara breathes the promise into Lena’s open mouth. “One day, I’ll take you away from here. I’ll build you a beautiful house filled with light and warmth, just like you always wanted. And I’ll fill it with books and flowers, just for you.”

“As long as I’m with you.” Lena sobs breathlessly into her mouth, her fingers digging into Kara’s back, “I only want it if it’s with you.”

And Kara wakes in the wide bed of her ancestral home, breathing heavily, with the phantom sting of a lover’s fingernails on her back. 

Beside her, Mon-El snores lightly, completely oblivious.

_________

It’s not the last time Kara dreams of her.

Sometimes, Kara dreams of being a child, running along the fading, derelict halls of what she somehow knows is Luthor Manor, and being whipped viciously by Lillian until her lady intervened and got herself denied meals for the next two days for her trouble. 

She dreams of drawing pictures in the dusty floor for her lady’s amusement, her small clumsy fingers honing their talent first in dust, then the little bit of charcoal she can pilfer, and then -- when Lena secretly spends what little money she’s able to save on a gift for her -- oils and paints, all hidden from Lillian under a loose floorboard in their room.

Kara dreams of a once-great house crumbling down around their ears, of standing dutifully beside Lena and Lillian as the debt collectors took beloved artifacts from the house, one by one -- priceless paintings and sculptures, generations-old; Lena’s precious books and the cherished ornate microscope that had been a gift from her brother -- until they were left with nothing but the shame of an empty house and an empty name.

Kara dreams of her own trembling, yearning fingers helping her lady undress each night after the pompous, oppressive suitors had left and the two of them were alone in Lena’s room, shedding each layer of clothing. Her polite and careful hands unraveling, unlacing and unfurling with a secret pleasure, like peeling away the petals of a flower to reveal the tender, fragile flesh underneath that only Kara was allowed to see, but was forbidden to touch.

She dreams of the first kiss shared in that cold, dim room -- when the single candle Lillian had spared for them fizzled out into smoke, and the dark had made her brave enough to trace the invisible outline of her sleeping lady’s lips. Only Lena hadn’t been sleeping, and Kara’s own name was pressed into her impertinent fingertips in an tremulous whisper, and terrified but aching, she had replaced her hand with her own lips instead.

After the fifth night of waking up from dreams that make her heart pound and her whole body ache, Kara can’t pretend anymore. 

These dreams clearly mean something, and the woman in them -- the same woman she had seen bloodied in the graveyard -- is clearly significant.

She slips away from the wedding preparations without being noticed and begins to investigate. A search for the name ‘Lena Luthor’ yields no information on the woman herself, but it does lead Kara to an old family tree that she finds in the old town records.

The Luthors, she discovers, were an old family that used to be very powerful in Argo several hundred years ago. Except their money, it seems, had run out a few generations before, and the last of the line she sees are two names: Alexander and Lena Luthor.

The family tree doesn’t list anymore information on Lena that wasn’t on her gravestone, but it certainly has more information on Alexander “Lex” Luthor. It lists that had been married and had had a child, though both his wife and infant had died during childbirth. 

However, when Kara digs deeper into the story, she finds an old article in an old newspaper that speculates that Lex Luthor had killed his wife and their baby. The article further states that Lex had fled under suspicion of murder, and that all the properties he had inherited as the sole male heir of the dwindling Luthor fortune were seized during the investigation until he could be found.

Kara spends all day in the library, poring over old articles and books, trying to find any more information on the Luthors. Her reporter’s curiosity is piqued by this mystery, and it’s awakened that old instinct to try and dig for the truth. She tries not to think how this has consumed more of her passion and attention than her own wedding, which is a week away.

Instead, she just burrows deeper, trying to find the location of the old Luthor Manor. Unfortunately, she discovers that it was torn down a few years after Lena’s death, and that a new family had built their home on its grounds.

It takes her several tries and the aid of a very helpful librarian, but Kara is finally able to find some records of the sale of the estate, and a current map of Argo to compare with the old map of the town so she can find where the old Luthor Manor was.

Her jaw drops and she has to sit back and exhale slowly when she sees current location. No way. This is too bizarre. But in a weird way, it makes sense.

Kara’s ancestral home has stood for almost two hundred years on the ruins of the old Luthor Manor.

She checks the records of the sale again, and it’s all crystal clear on the page. Luthor Manor and the land it stood on was bought by the artist Kara Inze-Dey nearly two hundred years ago. The old house had been torn down, and a new one built in its place. The same house that stands in that spot to this day. 

The very same one Kara is to be married in and inherit.

Kara returns the books and the maps in a state of muddled shock. How has she gotten so swept up in this? Three weeks ago, she’d never even heard of this house, and now she’s tangled in this mess and having dreams of a long-dead woman who may or may not have appeared to her as a bloody ghost few days ago? Not to mention, her great-great something grandmother was actually a prolific artist and she didn’t even know it? What is going on?

Maybe it’s time to go back home. Put this obsession away, and focus on the important stuff, which is preparing for her wedding. She feels a little guilty. She hasn’t had a proper conversation with her fiancee for a week. She hasn’t shown up to fittings or tastings or any of that. She hasn’t even thanked Eliza and Alex and her friends for all the work they’re putting into preparing the house for the wedding.

When Kara returns to the house, multiple people descend upon her -- the wedding planner, her assistants, people asking her to please make a decision on where she wants the centerpieces, or when Mon-El’s mother is arriving, or whether it should be the white or the pink petals in the flower girl’s basket.

Luckily, Alex, bless her, seems to sense her panic immediately, and she pulls her aside to a quiet corner, and asks her what’s wrong. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been distracted lately. You’re barely ever here. It seems like you’re doing everything you can to avoid getting involved in this wedding. Kara, if something’s wrong, you know you can talk to me, right?”

And Kara would appreciate her sister’s genuine concern, and might even be tempted to answer her truthfully, but at that same second, she spies a familiar figure underneath the arch of white flowers on the gazebo outside.

“I’m fine, Alex,” she musters a reassuring smile. “I promise, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately. Everything’s fine, I promise.”

With a quick hug to reassure her sister, Kara hurries away to the follow the pale figure outside the window. She approaches cautiously, half-expecting her to be a hallucination.

Lena turns to her, and after all those dreams, those green eyes and that small sad smile is so familiar that Kara can feel her fear and confusion fall away to be replaced by a vague familiarity.

"I'm sorry,” The soft voice is familiar too. “I didn't mean to frighten you last time. And I don't mean to frighten you now. It's just.... you look so much like someone I used to know, and I couldn't help it, I had to see you again...."

She looks so sad and beautiful and delicate that Kara's heart just goes out to her. Kara waves her hand and scoffs. "Nah, you didn't frighten me. I'm not scared of you. You just.... startled me, that's all."

Lena chuckles softly, and there’s something almost affectionate in the sound. She reaches out to touch one of the flowers on the arch, her fingertips not-quite brushing the white petals. "Plumerias were always my favorite....She always remembered."

"Who's ‘she’?" Kara asks quietly, even though she thinks she knows the answer. She doesn't really need to whisper, there's no one around, but it feels right in the moment. Like if she speaks any louder, the other woman will disappear.

Tears begin to shine in those luminous eyes. "Kara. My Kara."

Kara swallows.

"She looked just like you, you know..." Lena smiles at her, her fingers reaching toward her instead of the flowers this time. Kara doesn’t mean to, but steps back reflexively, and a flash of hurt spasms across Lena's face before disappearing into another sad smile, this time with a trace of bitterness in it. Her hand drops to her side instead. "I'm sorry. It's just..... I've been waiting for so long, I...."

"What do you mean, 'waiting'?" Kara asks, unable to suppress her curiosity. "What have you been waiting for?"

"For my Kara to come for me."

"You - Why..." Kara doesn't know what to say to that. "How long have you been waiting?"

"I..." Lena trails off, seemingly confused. "I don't know. I just..... a long time."

"You're Lena Luthor, right? That was your grave I've been visiting."

"No - I - yes, I suppose it is." Lena nods, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Yes, I am Lena Luthor. Or... I was. But... I don't even remember that being a grave. I don't remember anything, except... I was waiting for Kara there. I've been waiting for so long..."

“Why were you waiting there?” Kara presses.

“We were.... We were going to run away together.” Lena murmurs, her voice barely a whisper. “I was finally going to leave that place, with her. Always with her... She said she would come back for me there.... but she never did.... I don’t know, I--”

“Kara? There you are!” Mon-El’s voice cuts harshly across Lena’s soft whispers, and Kara turns to him, startled. “Where have you been?”

“I--” Kara whirls around to see that Lena has disappeared and the gazebo is empty. “I was just--”

“Did you forget? My Mom’s coming over tonight. She should be here any minute. I made reservations at that restaurant in town, and you know she hates when we’re late. C’mon.”

Kara allows herself to be led away, but she casts one last look at the spot where Lena was just a few moments ago.

There’s nothing there.