#girl dinner dessert and leftovers for breakfast in the morning

[kindahoping4forever]

📸: Rich Fury for Madison Square Garden

[dilf-din]

To be Known (To be Loved)

Frank Castle x f!reader

WC: 2500

Warnings: mentions of blood/gun violence, so much fluff & domestic bliss

Author’s note: so what if I want him to settle down and have a soft life and dote on his girl, don’t worry about it!!

It’s not that you were clumsy or lacked focus. That was the opposite of true. Nobody had an eye for detail like you. That’s what landed you your job as a crime scene analyst. The FBI even contracted you out from time to time when they did jobs in the city. They did today, actually. And though you had been doing this for years, sometimes it still made your stomach churn. And traffic was a bitch coming home, and you forgot to take the ground beef out of the freezer so you were trying to scrape some kind of meal together, chopping what was left of an onion with a too dull knife, and your hand slipped.

It wasn’t too deep, just a perfect slice into the tip of your pointer finger. It stung in the cold stream of the sink you were quick to plunge it under, your eyes already watering from the bruised onion you had been attempting to dice.

Not a big deal, just slap a bandage on it and remember to ask Frank to bring his kit to sharpen your knife set this weekend.

You sniffled and got back to work, sautéing scraps of leftover chicken with some fresh veggies, adding lemon and white wine and garlic and herbs. The air filled with aromatics and the sound of your 80’s playlist.

The tension that spent it days lodged between your shoulder blades was starting to wear away. All you needed to completely feel at peace was the sound of the key in the lock and boots down the hall.

Frank was a lot of things. Dangerous and safe, rough and gentle, commanding and kind. And he was always on time for dinner. Whether he limped to the door dripping blood or showed up early with a bottle of wine and flowers, he was dependable above all.

You didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know he would be there soon. You could feel it in your cells, like the waiting would be soon over.

AC/DC’s fast guitars faded into REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling, and you found yourself humming along to the ballad. The opening and closing of drawers and the sizzled of the pans drowned out the quiet thump of boots against wood while Frank paused for a second to admire you, a love drunk smile plastered on his face.

He set a paper bag down on the island behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing warm kisses to your cheek, rough stubble scratching your smooth skin. You relaxed into his embrace, eyes drifting shut for a moment as you leaned against his strong chest and inhaled deeply the lingering smell of pine from his shower this morning.

“How’s my baby girl doin’?” Frank hummed into your neck, pressing a trail of kisses to the exposed skin he could get to with the collar of your shirt in the way.

“Got in a fight today,” you sighed dramatically, holding you hand up so he could see your finger wrapped delicately.

“Baby,” he lamented with equal drama, drawing your hand to his mouth to lavish in kisses.

“I’ll kill the guy,” he said sincerely, baby browns boring into yours, holding your hand to his cheek with a tender grip around your wrist.

“He’s in the sink,” you gestured over your shoulder, “If you can remember to sharpen him and his friends this weekend.”

“Course baby doll. Smells good in here,” he peeked over your shoulder at the pans simmering on the stove, “I brought dessert. Cannolis from Tony’s,”

“You’re too good to me,” you clasped your hands over your heart.

It was Friday, which meant Frank was home for the weekend.

His boots by your bed. His body next to yours. Breakfast together and movies on the couch and unlimited snuggles.

“You look tense, everything okay?” he queried as he brought his broad hands up to work out the knots in your shoulders.

“Just a long week,” you shook your head, “All I want is to take a long shower later.”

“I’ll clean up after,” he kissed your cheek once more and gave your shoulders a squeeze before setting off to find something to keep him busy.

He was always tightening screws and changing lightbulbs and air filters, doing whatever he could to make your life easier. Sometimes, on particularly hard weeks, you would unplug your router and call him to come tinker with your internet. Any big or small gesture he could give you, he would jump through hoops to do. You had never felt as secure or adored in any relationship before Frank.

After dinner, and of course your favorite dessert, Frank set off to clean the dishes so you could hop in the shower.

The shower took a few minutes to heat up, so you took your time removing your necklace and the makeup you sported to work. Your cheeks puffed from the scrubbing, and steam was starting to paint the edges of the mirror in front of you.

The last thing you did was peel off the bandage on your finger. The skin was still split badly, deep purple peeking out from under it. It would hurt for a few more days at least, you reasoned.

You left a pile of clothes in front of the mirror, and stepped behind the glass wall of your shower. Another shitty Friday in the books. This would be sure to wash away at least some of your woes.

Your neck turned under the hot stream, letting the water distribute over your hair, and only when you reached up to run your fingers through it were you met with sharp pain.

You hissed and quickly retracted your hand, “Shit.”

The force of the water was like a hundred small knives driving into the exposed nerves. The pain burned hotter than it did when you cut it.

Tentatively, you placed it back in the stream to see if it just needed a second to adjust, but were met with the same intense pain.

You choked down a sob. It was silly, really. When you thought about the loss you saw today and the blood stained carpet, the empty seat at someone’s table tonight, it was ridiculous to be this upset over a shower.

All you wanted was to wash away someone else’s pain and move on with your life, and you started feeling selfish. Words of self ridicule started ringing in your ears, and you pressed your forehead against the cool tile wall, crying softly, willing yourself to pull it together.

You heard the shuffle of Frank entering the adjacent room to sit on the edge of the bed and tug his boots off, thud of his gun on your nightstand, and the unbuckling of his belt.

“Somethin’ wrong?” his low voice rumbled over the running water.

“I can’t wash my hair,” you admitted pathetically, sniffling from the corner, “It stings so bad.”

“You’ve sewed yourself up with no anesthesia and gunshot wounds and I’m sitting here crying about a little cut,” you continued.

You heard the pad of Frank’s feet on the tile as he stepped into the shower and wrapped himself around your wet frame.

“I don’t expect you to be tough as nails, sweetheart,” he murmured into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there, “I love that you’re so tender. You’re too good for all this shit. Stay that way.”

He cradled the sides of your head with two strong hands and turned you to face him, catching your mouth in a long kiss. Frank kissed like he was a starving man and you were the first food he had seen in days. It was enough to make your stomach flutter.

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before gathering your hair into the water and raking his wide fingers through it.

“What are you doing?” you asked with red eyes.

“My girl said she wanted a shower,” his voice came out husky. Brow furrowed with concentration, he smoothed water through every strand, cradling your scalp so gently.

Overcome with emotion, you tucked your forehead into the safety of his neck, nuzzling your nose against his throat as he worked the tangles out of your hair.

The same hands that had snapped necks and pulled triggers were lathering your hair in shampoo and holding your hips close to his.

Your hands wandered his arms and back, grazing over scars and wondering how he got so lucky every time. He must’ve had one hell of a guardian angel. Whatever it was, you felt equally lucky to be here with him, to be his.

The two of you stayed mostly silent. Frank asking the occasional question.

“‘S’that hurt? Is this okay?”

When he finished with your hair, you stepped out of the way so he could quickly wash himself off, reaching for the shampoo you kept on the shelf for him.

Sometimes when he was gone for days at a time, you would wash with his soap and sleep wrapped up in one of his shirts.

Frank drew you into his embrace once more, and you rested easily against his chest with warm water creating pools and streams over the shape of your bodies together.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured.

“I couldn’t,” he said dryly, “My back is killing me.”

“Let’s go lay down, old man,” you teased, reaching to turn the water off.

“Alright smartass,” he laughed with one of his crooked half smiles, following you out of the shower and pinching your ass, eliciting a yelp.

Frank pulled on a pair of joggers and perched on the counter watching as you towel dried your hair. He leaned slightly forward with his hands curled under the edge of the counter. The muscles in his arms and chest were perfectly sculpted, glistening under a light layer of condensation while the steam filtered out of the bathroom.

You chose one of Frank’s black tee shirts and a pair of old cotton undies.

Frank waited patiently while you dabbed on a few creams and moisturizers, fussing with your hair and examining the split ends.

“Beautiful,” he hummed, leaning into your space to steal a quick kiss.

“Almost done,” you reassured, raking a cream through your hair.

“Take your time. I’m enjoying the view,” he smirked, craning his neck to take a peek at your ass while you leaned forward into the mirror.

“Perv,” you teased.

“Only for you, baby,” he smiled.

It was autumn in New York. The sun set quicker and quicker each night. Lazy orange light colored your room with flashes of brown and crimson leaves just outside the window. On your nightstand burned a cinnamon candle, and the rest of the lights were dimmed to set a warm mood. The sun and flickering flame cast wispy shadows on the wall.

On the tv across from your bed, there was a Great British Bake Off marathon playing with the volume low. Frank had pretended not to be interested at first, but it wasn’t long before he was criticizing cakes alongside you. It was something you could both agree on as background noise.

Frank sat straight with his back against the headboard, and you nestled between his legs leaning against his chest.

Callused fingers ran up and down your arms, toying with your hands and occasionally slipping in your sleeve to caress your shoulders. Physical touch was one of your chief love languages, and Frank was fluent. He had spent enough of his life alone and longing that when you were together, he indulged in every touch and kiss.

A deep exhale parted your lips and he shifted slightly.

“Is somethin’ else botherin’ you?” he asked after a considerable length of silence.

You didn’t know how to answer.

“Just seems like more than a cut finger got you in a funk today,” he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing half a kiss there.

“I don’t want to bring work home with me,” you clamped your eyes shut and buried the side of your face into his chest.

“I come home caked in the shit I deal with every day, and not once have you made me feel like it’s an issue to you. You can talk to me,” he said matter of factly at first, but his tone softened into a gentle pleading.

Let me in.

You drew in a shaky breath.

“It was another homicide today. Guy killed his girlfriend. Don’t know why. Shot her in the stomach four times. She was dead when we got there, but her face,” you trailed off, “I’ve just never seen someone look so afraid. I don’t know if he was there when she died, or if she was alone, or what’s sadder.”

He sat in silence, intently listening.

“I know you see this kind of stuff every day, but it still gets to me,” a tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly swiped it with the back of your hand.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, tugging at your shoulder to turn you towards him.

You swung a leg around so you were straddling him, your hands toyed with the chain around his neck.

“Baby, the people I see are bad people. People like your guy that got away today. Seeing the other side always hurts. You’re not weak for that,” he hummed. A strong hand cupped your cheek and turned your head slightly up to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened,” he whispered. His brown eyes were overflowing with sincerity.

You wondered how one man could contain such wild contradictions. Gentleness and violence didn’t often walk hand in hand, but they did when Frank Castle was around.

His voice was like gravel and velvet. His kisses were both hungry and adoring.

With one hand on your face, his other rested at your waist, balling up the tee shirt and rubbing circles against your hipbone with his knuckles.

“You’re good at what you do. ‘S’okay that it weighs on you.”

“You too,” you countered softly, and you saw another level of defense in his eyes melt away, the corners of them softening almost imperceptibly.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his bare chest burned through the thin barrier of his shirt across your frame. His arms felt like a fortress around you. You had never been afraid since he came into your life.

“You’re my peace, you know that? None of the rest of that bullshit matters to me. This is what matters,” he murmured softly into your ear.

You pushed lightly off his chest to look him in the eye once more, “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

He scoffed and turned his head with a shy grin, pink creeping into his cheeks, “Don’t go around tellin’ people that. Ruin my street cred,” he laughed lightly.

His heart drummed steadily beneath your hand. He made it another week and so did you. And you would keep making, you had vowed. For moments like this.

[foster-the-world]

Good Week

Had a nice week. Settling into this off work thing. Plenty of alone time and plenty of time with the kids. I took care of teacher appreciation week solely by myself for the PTA. On Sunday the kids sidewalked chalked all along the school. It was an easy way to get kids involved. I managed to get donations for 80% of the food/drinks for a dessert buffet for 70 people. Including four large fresh cut fruit trays - two were leftover so they got it for lunch. Plus, many people got take home containers. Then we closed out the weekend with a breakfast - local NYC bagels, Krispy Kreme and Starbucks coffee all donated. We are a low budget PTA - so nice to keep the costs low. I'm sure it didn't blow the teachers away but hopefully it was a nice treat. Teachers deserve so much more. I think I'll volunteer to make Teacher Appreciation week my thing. I don't mind volunteering at the school but don't like asking other people for things or asking for individual donations. This event I can pull of by myself.

Went with another parent to the new Natural History Museum yesterday. Its really impressive. The old building was cool with the dinosaur bones but definitely dated. The new part is great.

Today the girls are doing a free class at a new robotics/lego place within walking distance to our apartment. If they like it I'll sign them up.

Last night my husbands parents stopped by for dinner. Then they watched the kids from 7-8pm while we went to a bar/music place two blocks away. Parents from daycare were performing. They were also very good. Plus, being home by 8pm was amazing. My inlaws (who are 75) were going to a Zydeco dance at 8:30. Pretty impressive. Of course, they don't have to wake up for kids in the morning.

Hung up on someone at the foster agency yesterday. Not the best look but the birth certificate stuff is so maddening. And the OT stuff. and the not having an adoption date stuff. And everything we ever ask of them - which is not much. In this case, someone asked me what his legal name is but my poor kid does not have one. The name they have on records is different then the name on the birth certificate request. And how can the agency ask this question? Three years into care they should know his name. They ignore all my questions about his bc application. So stressful when we need a passport in six weeks. Luckily, NYC has a ton of emergency passport application places. So we can get it within two weeks.

[shepherds-of-haven]

I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏

Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖

Some group dynamic headcanons:

Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)

There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!

Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it

Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking

Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!

The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny

Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated

Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest

Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!

Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!

Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word

Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint! 

Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”

Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!

Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties

There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly

The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.

They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!

One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out

[collecting-stories]

Anniversary - Topper Thornton

Request: A date with Topper at a nice restaurant on the mainland?? - @letsgofullkook 

A/N: When I wrote this I kind of thought of it as a continuation of Flirt.

Outer Banks Masterlist

-

In your wildest dreams you had never thought that one date with Topper would lead to anything more than that. But here you were, sitting in an office in Durham when you were supposed to be celebrating your one-year anniversary. It hadn’t occurred to either of you when you made the appointment with the Dean of Admissions that your college interview would conflict with your anniversary mainly because the relationship was still new and you didn’t think it would last passed a few dates around the island. 

You were wrong, of course, much to your mother’s happiness. You admitted that in the beginning you just liked him cause he was hot and sometimes, occasionally, funny. But now all the things you liked about him outweighed the things you didn’t and those were all niche complaints. The sort of things couples get annoyed by when they’ve committed time and energy to their relationship. 

He’d texted you early in the morning as you were making your way to the ferry. Happy anniversary and good luck. You texted back a sad face, depressed enough that you weren’t going to see him no matter how many times he promised you could do something when you got back. 

“We could even just have a pizza or something?” 

“You want me to eat pizza, no doubt while I’m two seconds from passing out, on our anniversary. Pizza anniversaries are for married couples with kids who just want to eat something that doesn’t taste like five different vegetables puréed together!” You had ranted at him when he offered. 

“Okay, hey it’s okay. No pizza anniversary...yet.”

“Topper!”

“What? I’ll only purée four vegetables into our future childrens’ food too.” He promised. 

“I hate you and you’re not funny and I inadvertently ruined our anniversary.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything...this is an important interview.” Topper had been thrilled when you told him that you had an interview at Duke, it’d been all he could brag about to anyone for weeks. His girlfriend, going to Duke. As if NCS was a chump school. 

The day of the interview and your anniversary you woke up in the morning to flowers delivered to your house, your favorite cupcake from Whole Foods sitting in the refrigerator and the rosé slushies you liked already in the freezer. 

-did you break into my house?- you had sent him a snapchat of you eating the cupcake for breakfast accompanied by a pan down to show off the fact that you were only half dressed in a bralette and short shorts. He might not be there for your anniversary but you could still reciprocate on the gift giving. 

-your parents gave me a key-

-you’re joking-

-you wish-

You continued texting and snapchatting with him as you got ready and as you boarded the ferry. He promised that you would get to celebrate but you knew it wouldn’t be how you wanted. A nice dinner at the only high end restaurant close enough to the OBX to not take practically a day to get to. 

“I just want fancy Italian food.” You told him as you stood outside the campus after your interview, waiting for your dad to pick you back up. 

“All I asked was how the interview went babe,” he teased. 

“It was good. I felt like all my talking points came across well and I didn’t freeze up on any of his questions.” You said, “now if only my dad would show up.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know...he was supposed to meet me outside and I don’t see his car anywhere. Hold on, some asshole with tinted windows just honked their horn at me!” 

“Sounds like a dick.”

“Honestly,” you knocked on the window of the sports car, fully prepared to lay into whoever was in the drivers seat because the interview went well but the rest of your day was shit, only to find Topper sitting there smiling at you, phone to his ear. “What are you doing here?” Realising you spoke into the phone you rolled your eyes, hanging up and repeating the question, “what’re you doing here?”

“I came to take you to dinner. It is our anniversary.” 

“Stop, this is so fucking sweet!” You climbed into the car, leaning across the dash to give him a kiss.

“I’m glad you like it, Rafe told me I was a pussy for doing all this.” 

“Rafe’s never dated a girl long enough to finish a sentence.” You replied, giddiness kicking in again as you realised he’d played along to missing dinner while planning this the whole time. “I can’t believe you did this!”

“Short of flying to Italy to actually have Italian food there’s not much I wouldn’t do to spend the night with you.” He admitted. 

“Flying to Italy sounds like a second anniversary kind of thing.”

“I’m sure it does.” 

-

The restaurant he took you to was in Durham, not too far from campus, which you pointed out as a viable future date spot when you were both in school next year. You had been thinking about both of you being in college a lot lately. You had even joked with Topper about being one of those midway through college couples on house hunters looking for an apartment that was unreasonably nice while still being within distance to everything important in life. 

“We’ll get you an apartment that has a big mailbox and a second room that you can use as a closet.” Topper had teased, knowing your unmatched ability to online shop. “And in walking distance to a coffee place.” 

“So you can walk there for me?” You had asked, smiling. 

There was a lot of future planning that you found yourself doing. Whether Topper was truly thinking that far ahead as well or just appeasing you whenever you shared a crazy future plan with him you weren’t sure. You wanted to think that you were on the same page but you had hardly expected to like him enough to have spent a year with him, thinking about the future was new to you. 

“I’m telling you right now if this tiramisu is as good as the waiter said I’m never going anywhere else for Italian food.” You told him, reaching across the table to nab a piece of bread that he had leftover. 

“I figured that anyway.” Topper replied, moving his plate away from your hand. 

“Stop! I want your bread.”  You pouted, trying to poke at him with your fork.

“You already ate like four pieces!” 

“What are you trying to say?” 

“That this is my piece.” He said, taking a bite of it. 

“Unbelievable. You think someone loves you and then they pull this shit.” You complained. 

Topper rolled his eyes, “do you want your present now or?” 

“You did too much Top; all the stuff this morning and showing up here and dinner, I don’t need anything else.” You insisted. You were happy enough just thinking dinner was your gift.

“Well I got you an actual present too so,” 

“Honestly after dessert I don’t think I’ll be able to make it all the way to the ferry...” you trailed off, realizing how late it was getting already, “how are we?”

“We’re staying over.” 

“God you really thought of everything.” 

“I even brought you regular clothes for tomorrow so you don’t have to wear that dress back.” He replied. 

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“I mean I don’t hate hearing it.” Topper replied. 

-

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom 

[catfe-overlord]

“Feral”

Part 5

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

Read part 3 here

Read part 4 here

::in which Bakugou and Kirishima are closer than ever, quite literally and figuratively. Bakugou messes up, plans are definitely NOT cancelled, and there is a maybe date happening::

P.S. IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST. It was a loooong week. I’ve gotten a promotion though, so that was cool! Anywho, I’ll try and be quicker with the updates since I have a lot of my one-shots already half finished:)

P.P.S. I wrote out the whole chapter and apparently it’s exceeded a word count or something so I had to split it into two chapters. I just have to give it a quick edit and I’ll have it up today, hopefully in the next couple hours.

+++++++++++++

Aizawa kept Bakugou for one more night just for observation. He was allowed back to class Tuesday morning.

Kirishima waited outside of his dorm for Bakugou to finish getting ready. He played a game on his phone and leaned against the wall opposite of Bakugou’s door.

He’d only been waiting a few minutes before the door opened and a fully-uniformed Bakugou Katsuki stepped out. He looked well rested and much more like himself than Kirishima had seen him in days. He still had his usual grumpy look, but it put a smile on Kirishima’s face to see it. He’d missed Bakugou so much that having him back felt like a hole had been filled in his chest.

Kirishima didn’t think about what he did next until Bakugou pulled away. The redhead looked down at their hands, dawning on him that he’d just tried to hold Bakugou’s hand. The movement felt so natural, almost like an instinct.

“Oh!” he said, surprised by himself. “I’m sorry, man. That was weird of me. I didn’t even think about it—”

“It’s fine, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou interrupted him. “Here.”

Kirishima watched as Bakugou laced their arms together at their elbows. He had a weird scowl on his face, but he didn’t say anything about it and opted to tug Kirishima along to get him moving. Together, arm in arm, they descended the hall until they reached the elevator.

They didn’t say a word the whole ride down. Kirishima was too lost in his racing thoughts to come up with the right thing to say.

Was Bakugou touch starved? He wasn’t ever the type of guy to initiate any sort of touching. Though, he hadn’t been able to get near anyone in days. On average, at least a few times a day Kirishima would lean on him or put a hand on his shoulder or sometimes even throw him into a surprise hug the blond didn’t see coming. Bakugou had adapted to Kirishima’s fondness. This—having Bakugou as the initiator—was so foreign, Kirishima couldn’t wrap his head around it.

They didn’t let go of each other until they reached the kitchen. Kirishima tossed Bakugou ingredients and utensils as the explosive boy whipped up some egg drop ramen for the two of them.

He usually made more food to include the Bakusquad, but he never bothered with breakfast. The other three were never up early enough.

As it turned out, Kaminari was right: Kirishima had missed Bakugou’s cooking. He wasn’t sure where the blond learned to cook so well, but Kirishima would have given his pal a five star review on Yelp if he could have.

“What did I miss in class?” Bakugou asked after they’d sat down. He was twirling his chopsticks around in his bowl to pick up some noodles.

“Don’t know,” Kirishima answered through a mouthful. He swallowed before continuing. “I didn’t really go to class yesterday.”

Bakugou frowned. He glared at his ramen like he’d just witnessed it murder his cat. “Let’s ask Ponytail for her notes. I’m not asking shitty Deku. His notebook is a fucking mess.”

“Good idea,” Kirishima agreed. “Hey, did you wanna do some extra training after class? The gym is free today. We could work on our special moves like last time.”

Bakugou seemed to be thinking it over. After a moment of considering, he set his chopsticks down. “What if we went to the movies?”

Kirishima stared at him. He’d said it in such a soft voice, Kirishima knew he was being serious. “The movies? Over training? That doesn’t sound like you.”

He glared in return. “Do you want to or not, Shitty Hair?”

He laughed. “Yeah, totally! Was there a movie you had in mind?”

Bakugou picked his chopsticks back up and was using the utensils to play with his food. Kirishima couldn’t help thinking he looked shy. His cheeks were the slightest hint of pink. “There’s that action movie… I know you like those.”

Kirishima perked up at that. “Really? You’re talking about the one where those two guys have to duel for the dojo after their master is killed, right?”

“The only cheesy-as-hell action movie in the theaters right now, yes.”

“Dude, I’ve wanted to watch that forever! It didn’t do great in the box office, but I think it looks great! You really want to sit through that for me? That doesn’t seem like your kind of movie.”

He finally stood to take his bowl to the sink. “I just want to get out. I’ve spent the last four days staring at white walls.” He nodded his head to Kirishima’s empty bowl, who got the message and passed it over.

“I’m down for the movie, one-hundred percent! And, hey—maybe this weekend we can go hiking? That should help get you out of your own head.”

He hummed in response. “There was that new trail we could try.”

“Oh! Yeah, I remember that. We wanted to go last time, but it was getting too dark so we didn’t get the chance. How’s your schedule look? I’m free all weekend!”

He finished up washing their dishes and deposited them onto the drying rack. “Let’s go Saturday. My shitty aunt is in town this weekend, so I can avoid her at least then. I have some stupid family dinner my parents are making me go to on Sunday if… uh, if you wanna go.”

Kirishima cocked his head. “To your family dinner? You want me to go? Would I be intruding?”

Bakugou leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “No. If you’re there I might actually act ‘civil’ is how my old hag put it. You can sleep over too, if you want.”

Kirishima’s eyes sparkled. A sleepover? At Bakugou’s house?! He’d been over a few times, and he loved being able to spend the extra time with his hot-headed friend. But a sleepover? His heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

“Hell yeah! You usually head home Friday nights, right? What time should I be around Saturday to head on the hike?”

“Just come home with me Friday. Then we can leave early.”

Holy. Shit.

Two whole nights with Bakugou. He felt like his brain was about to short circuit.

His moms wouldn’t like him not visiting over the weekend, but they would understand. He talked pretty highly of Bakugou to his parents, so they would know how much this meant to him.

He pumped his fists together. “Alright! A guys’ weekend! This is gonna be great, man! We can watch movies and play video games, and I’m gonna get you to stay up past eight-thirty!”

Bakugou snorted. “Then I’ll make sure to wake you up by six in the morning.”

“No!” Kirishima gasped. “That’s just cruel, man.”

Bakugou smirked and grabbed his book bag, then headed for the door. Kirishima jumped up to follow.

Class was extra boring today, and Kirishima couldn’t pay attention to a word of his lessons. The day dragged on, probably because he had the movies with Bakugou to look forward to.

Finally, the bell rang for lunch. He and the squad moved out while Bakugou stayed back to collect the homework assignments he missed yesterday. He’d catch up with them after.

They were all seated at their usual table, Ashido chatting everyone’s ears off. Kirishima zoned out staring out the window at the lawn when the pink-haired girl brought him back down to earth.

“Kiri? Babe. Earth to Kirishima.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. My head is all over the place today.”

He hadn’t even realized Bakugou sat down beside him. The blond was giving him a weird look as he popped open his bento box.

“So!” Kaminari exclaimed, catching everyone’s attention. “I had this idea—”

“Oh shit,” Bakugou muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Kaminari glared at him while everyone else laughed. “Anyway. Wouldn’t it be such a good idea if we challenged Bakugou and Sato to a cook off? Our class chef versus our class baker. It'd be epic!”

“I love it!” Ashido announced.

Sero looked into the distance dreamily. “Think about all the leftover food.”

“I don’t bake,” Bakugou stated. “I don’t do sweets. And Sugar Freak is a shit cook. Wouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

“Well, we can have you both whip up something as a main dish and then a dessert to follow,” Ashido suggested. “We could vote whose meal was better.”

Bakugou didn’t look impressed. He stuffed a chunk of beef into his mouth and ignored the rest of the conversation.

“What if we did it tonight? Everyone’s free, right?”

Kirishima whipped his head up from his meal to face Kaminari. “Not tonight, man. We’ve got homework to catch up on, and Bakugou and I were going to catch a movie.”

Everyone’s eyebrows scrunched. They stared between the two boys like this was weird behavior of them.

“The movies?” Ashido asked, her expression shifting to something more mischievous. “Like, just the two of you? Alone?”

“You annoying shitsticks aren’t coming, so don’t even ask,” Bakugou said in his grumpy voice.

Kaminari raised a devilish eyebrow. “So… is this like… a date?”

Kirishima felt his ears grow hot. “No! No, it’s not like that! We’re just two bros going to the movies! Right, Katsuki?”

He looked over to the blond, who had a death grip on his chopsticks. His face read pure rage, but there was a blush crawling up his neck and cheeks. It seemed to worsen at the use of his given name. The chopsticks snapped in his grip.

“KATSUKI?!” Ashido practically screamed. “He lets you call him by his given name?”

The other two boys were dying at this point. They clutched their stomachs as they busted out laughing, tears sparkling in their eyes. Sero slapped a hand on the table. “Oh my god! I can’t breathe!”

Bakugou slammed his own fists against the table and stood. “FUCK YOU GUYS, WE’RE OUT OF HERE! COME ON, SHITTY HAIR! LET’S GO.”

Kirishima stood on wobbly legs, his meal forgotten as his mind reeled. He chased after Bakugou, a million questions racing through his brain he couldn’t seem to vocalize. Was this a date? If it wasn’t, wouldn’t Bakugou have corrected them? If it was, why’d he get so defensive?

Bakugou turned around and grabbed Kirishima by the elbow to speed him up. They must have been too loud, because half the cafeteria’s eyes were watching them as they left.

They made it back to the classroom, and Bakugou’s grip hadn't let up. He finally let go when he moved to his desk and sat down heavily. He crossed his arms and turned his face away from Kirishima.

“Uh,” Kirishima tried to form words, but he wasn’t sure what to say. “Should we talk about this?”

“No,” he answered quickly.

“Well, that seemed to really bother you back there. If you were thinking—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Eijirou.”

Kirishima could see the angry blush on his face when he glanced back at the redhead. Kirishima settled into the desk beside his. “Alright. You still want to go though, don’t you?”

He huffed. “Yeah, we’re still fucking going.”

His lips spread into a smile. “Glad to hear it! I can’t wait.”

The two broke out their homework after that, attempting to get caught up before the rest of the class slowly trickled back in. To Kirishima’s surprise, it was Bakugou who was having trouble focusing.

Class started up again, and Kirishima had to migrate back to his own desk. A worksheet was passed out by Midnight, and they were told to fill out what they could. Kirishima was only a few questions in when he glanced Bakugou’s way out of habit.

Midoriya was leaning forward, whispering something to Bakugou, who looked his usual amount of annoyed. It was when the green-haired boy reached out to tap Bakugou’s shoulder that chaos ensued.

Kirishima shot from his desk and across the room before most students even noticed anything was wrong. Everything happened so fast, even Kirishima’s brain had to play catch up.

Bakugou had snapped. In an instant, he’d had Midoriya pinned to the floor, slashing at his face with the claws that weren’t there. Midoriya was obviously caught off guard, but he was still fast enough to hold his arms up to shield his face from Bakugou’s attacks.

Kirishima tackled Bakugou off of his rival, using his hardening to pin him down. Bakugou was uncharacteristically hissing like some wild animal. Sero and Tokoyami were out of their seats now too, ready to help if they could.

“Katsuki!” Kirishima yelled, trying to snap the blond back to reality. “Katsuki, stop! It’s me! It’s Eijirou!”

Midnight stood above the boys, her hand resting on her sleeve and ready to tear it to put Bakugou to sleep with her quirk. Kirishima quickly shook his head at her. “Don’t! That won’t help.”

Bakugou’s movements became sluggish and he was blinking hard, quicly coming back to his senses. Kirishima watched as realization dawned in his eyes. He looked between Kirishima on top of him to Midoriya on the ground a few feet away. “Shit,” he cursed.

“Kacchan, I’m sorry!” Midoriya apologized. “I didn’t know the quirk hadn’t worn off yet. I shouldn’t have touched you. Kacchan, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t fucking apologize to me, damn nerd!” he shouted in return. He growled in frustration. “I thought this shit was over.”

“It’s alright, man,” Kirishima sighed, relieved to have Bakugou back. He slid off of the blond and sat on the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “Midoriya, you okay?”

“I-I’m fine!”

“Ahem,” Midnight cleared her throat. She had her hands on her hips and an unimpressed look on her face. “Could someone tell me what’s going on?”

“After effects,” Todoroki was the one to explain to Kirishima’s surprise. “It seems the quirk hasn’t quite worn off.”

“I’m fine now,” Bakugou grumbled. “It’s gone.”

“I highly doubt—”

“It was a fluke!”

“Guys!” Kirishima raised his voice to get them to stop. Bakugou glared at him for his interruption. Kirishima ignored the look and turned back to the other student still on the floor. “Midoriya, why don’t you swap seats with me for today?”

Midoriya nodded, finally pulling himself off the ground. “Good idea.”

Bakugou caught Kirishima’s wrist before he could stand as well. “I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

“I’m not babysitting you,” the redhead fired back. “My quirk is best suited to stop you if it happens again, which I doubt it will. Just a precaution, man.”

Midnight was tapping her foot, arms folded as she stared the two down. “Are you boys sure this is such a good idea?”

“Yes,” they said in unison. They looked at each other, and Bakugou bowed his head to allow Kirishima to finish. “He’ll be fine. It won’t happen again, and I’ll be there to stop him before it could happen again.”

She clicked her tongue. “Alright. I’ll allow it. Don’t make me regret it. And there had better not be any more interruptions.”

Everyone migrated back to their seats and the light chatter died off. Kirishima and Midoriya collected their things and traded seats. Once he was seated, Kirishima noticed a folded up piece of paper on the corner of the desk.

He opened it as quietly as he could, but Midnight seemed pretty preoccupied by the romance novel her eyes were glued to. It was definitely Bakugou’s handwriting, all caps and angry penmanship.

THANK YOU EIJIRO. YOU’ RE A GOOD FRIEND

Kirishima smiled. Bakugou really had grown so much in his time since coming to UA. Kirishima was so proud to be the explosive boy’s friend.

It’s cool ! Don’t sweat it man . Still wanna see that movie tonight ??

He tossed the note over Bakugou’s shoulder, who jumped a little like he was surprised to see it return. Kirishima could hear his pencil scrawling out a reply.

He passed it back, his eyes on Midnight to avoid being caught passing notes.

STILL THINK IT’S A GOOD IDEA?

Totally !! I wanna spend time with you dude

He chewed on his lip. Maybe that was a little too forward. He ended up erasing that bit and starting over.

Yeh man I think it’d be good for you to get out . Being cooped up for days isn’t good for ya

Bakugou held onto the note for a few minutes, maybe contemplating what to say. Kirishima tried to focus on his assignment, but it proved impossible and he ended up circling random answers.

Bakugou twisted his arm behind his back and held the folded note between two fingers. Kirishima plucked it from his grasp and unfurled it again.

COME TO MY ROOM AFTER YOU’RE READY TO GO. WE’RE GONNA GET DINNER FIRST SHITTY HAIR.

Kirishima giggled, and a few heads turned his way. He was too excited to care about the prying eyes or the blush that rose to his cheeks.

He couldn’t help but think about how date-like this seemed. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but… well.

He couldn’t help it.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Hope you guys liked it, and thanks for the read !!

Read part 6 here

8/31/2020

[jj-lynn21]

How A Girl Must Live Ch 4

Ch. 4: Dating

  Ch1: A place for singles , Ch 2: Popular Ch 3: opening up  Ch 5: Family  Ch 6 Violence begets Violence Ch 7 Love Birds

taging: @super-pink-a-palouza @luciferreads @glasglowgrin @loomiz @princessloveme123 @hornyhetero @taintedglass @bohemian-brian​ @maryan028 , @scxrsgxrd, lizziejorgie, @waywardtigersandwich​

Warnings: attempted rape, other angst,smoking, mentions of drinking, fluff

“Good luck finding a date after getting the most sought-after boy thrown out.” Missy snidely threw at Samantha as she was leaving with her escort for dinner. “Unless you are actually dating the creepy, crazy, poor, maintenance guy.”  

Samantha was flabbergasted by the statement. There was one more month on dating etiquette and how to be a lady and wife. It was all trying to brain wash young ladies into not thinking for themselves. Bowing to whatever their husband desired whenever he desired it.  

Willard made her feel special. He made her feel like her opinions meant something. He was a gentleman already without needing taught how.  It didn’t mean a thing he didn’t have a trust fund to set them up for life. And the only thing he had ever taken from her was her heart. She was still in a little denial of that. 

When he took her into town for the afternoon it was one of the best times she ever had in her life. They strolled along the sidewalk hand in hand. She adored a lot of the pretty dresses in the window.  

He told her that eventual he would like to make enough money to buy her all the dresses she wanted and the house she always dreamed of having. She especially enjoyed sharing a soda with him at the ice cream shop.

A half an hour after dinner had started for those with escorts, Samantha decided to escort herself to the dining room. As she grasped the doorknob there was a knock. When she opened it, she threw herself around him practically in tears.  

“There, there sweetheart,” Willard stroked her hair gently. “I was worried when I didn’t see you at dinner. Did your date flake out on you?”

She looked up eyes puffy, “They all hate me because that awful boy. He had money to whisk a girl away for her to live like a Princess. That is all they cared about. They don’t care how he acted towards me. They only care about his station. I don’t care about any of that.  I just care about you.”  

He talked softly, “I care about ya to. I wanted ya to get the most out of this place. I didn’t know they were treatin’ ya bad. If ya want, we will leave tomorra. Don’t even tell anyone. We will drive to your parents. I’ll tell ‘em what happened here. I wanna to ask your father permission to date you proper. Then I wanna pick ya up proper at your house for a date.”

“Really, Willard?” She started to beam at him forgetting her sadness for the moment.  

“Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled back lighting up her soul.  “Now let me sneak ya down to the kitchen. Your roommates will probably be back from dinner soon.  I’ll getcha some real food. Maybe there’s a couple of them steaks left I can get Miss Jenna to cook up for us with some taters. Pack your bags when the others fall asleep. I’ll come getcha when they go to breakfast.”  

She did not care about his station in life. She might be...maybe she could be...she was falling in love for the first time in her life. She held her head high as the others passed them in the hall staring. She held Willard’s hand proudly.  

The chef’s helper was just cleaning up as they walked in the kitchen. She looked up puzzled to see anyone in the kitchen after dinner.

“Good evening Mrs. Jenna.” Willard smiled. “Miss Samantha slept right through dinner tonight. Are there any leftovers we could have?”

Mrs. Jenna smiled. “I think there are a few steaks and salads left. Sorry there are no potatoes. But I have some peach pie for dessert. It was for the staff so none of the other students had any.”

“That is mighty kind of you Mrs. Jenna.”  Willard found some chairs pulling them up to the counter.  

Mrs. Jenna wiped down a few more things before turning to the couple. “Do you mind cleaning up after yourselves? My husband is probably waiting outside for me. I must go make dinner for him next. I think the poor man would starve without me.” She giggled like a schoolgirl.

“No problem Mrs. Jenna.” Samantha said after patting her mouth with a napkin delicately. “Thank you for throwing this together for us.”

“Anything to promote true love.” Mrs. Jenna rushed out the door.

Samantha blushed as she took a small bite of steak. They both ate quietly for a few minutes. It was a comfortable silence.  

“I can do up the dishes if you clean off the table?” Samantha suggested before she took her last bite.  

She hadn’t looked up so didn’t notice he had finished before her just admiring how she look under the dim light above them. “I can do that and dry the dishes for ya. Anything high I can put away or pick you up to do. It is always up to the lady in charge of the kitchen in my opinion. In this instance that’s you.”

She laughed. “Is that just an excuse to sweep me off my feet Willard?” She picked up his pie plate, main plate and empty water glass to wash them.  

It was Willard's turn to blush as he grabbed a wet rag from by the sink to wash off the table. “It is not only that.” he murmured.”

“What was that?” She grabbed a soapy sponge to start cleaning the things they use.

He walked over beside her to exchange his damp cloth for a dry one. “I’ll dry these up quick. I’m good at it I reckon. Better than washin’ for sure.”

“Well, I’m good at the washing so we make a good team.” She handed him a dish to dry. He just put it on the top shelf after drying it.  

Willard walked her back to her room. He rubbed is neck a little nervously as they stood by the door. “You still think you are up to introducing me to your Mother and father.”

“I sure am.” she beamed. “As soon as I know all the girls are asleep, I will pack my things quietly. I don’t think they would care much if I left anyway. Good night Mr. Willard Russel.” She leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek before scurrying off inside the room.

“Night Miss Samantha.” He realized he had not asked her last name yet. It was something he could ask tomorrow. He wanted to greet her Mother and Father proper so her Father would give him permission to date her and possibly marry his daughter someday.  

The next morning Samantha pretended to be asleep as her roommates got ready for their breakfast dates. They still whispered about her affair with Mr. Russel. How they thought she was being promiscuous with him. They were such vile girls.  

When their escorts had picked them up Samantha sprung out of bed to get ready for her adventure with Willard. She was nervous since she had never gone away with any man in a car other than her Father. But anything was less scary than staying at the resort with people that thought she was trash.  

As she finished putting the finishing touches on her light make-up routine there was a knock on the door.  Her heart leaped. She opened the door and all the excitement drained from her replaced by apprehension.

“Mr. Preston?” She put her hands on her hips angrily. “What are you doing here.”

Mr. Preston was best friends with Mr. Goodland in and out of the resort. Him, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Jonas had been taking turns with escorting and going on dates with her roommates.  

“My roommates have already been escorted to breakfast.” She started to close the door.

Mr. Preston kept it open with his hand. “I know that Miss Samantha.” He grinned lecherously as he walked in the room grabbing her upper arms pushing her back on to the bed.

“This is not how a gentleman acts, Mr. Preston.” She managed to free her hand to smack him hard in the face.  

His head bobbed back. A distinctive hand print marked him. “Oh, you like it rough. I have never had sex with a wild girl.” He pinned her arms above her head with one hand as he undid his dress pants with the other.  “You give Mr. Russel a piece, you should have no problem with me taking you. Stop squirming.” He slaps her and tries to pull her panties off under her puffy dress.  

Suddenly he is yanked off the bed with a stronger force than he had ever felt. Samantha slithered off the bed to the far wall. She was shaking. Her knees bent to her chest. Preston was glaring once he stood.  

“You will not treat women with disrespect if I have anything to do with it.” Willard Russel was breathing heavily. He was holding back what he really wanted to do to the boy since Samantha was there.  

“You and your little hussy will be thrown out of this place.” Preston screamed as he ran out the door knowing he could never beat Willard in a fight.  

Mr. Russel knelt in front of Samantha with his hand extended. “Samantha, I’m sorry about all that violence. Will you still come with me? Just forget this place completely. Mr. Jones already knows we are leavin’.”

Samantha’s eyes lifted to his slowly. “We need to leave.” Her voice was meek and shaky.

He helps her to her feet. She wraps her arms around his neck as tears flood her eyes. He picks her. Grabbed her suitcase. And heads out the door to his car. He puts her in the front seat and her suitcase in the back seat before getting in to drive away from the resort.  

“You pay no mind to what Mr. Preston said, Sam.” He popped a cigarette in the left corners of his mouth and lit it. “I already told them we we leavin’.”

Samantha wrapped the scarf from her neck around her hair so her hair wouldn’t go wild in the convertible. “Can, can I have a cigarette Mr. Russel, Willard?” She asked shakily. “It might help me calm down.”

“It sure it will little lady.” He took the pack out of his pocket to offer her one. He lit it politely. “I think it was horse shit they only let the men and boys smoke and drink around here.” He started driving away from the resort. “I was wondering if any of you partook in such things.”

“My roommates were finding places the smoke.” She took a long drag sitting back enjoying the way the wind whipped around them. “I chose to follow the rules but damn I missed it.” Her free hand shot up to her lips. “I am sorry, Willard.”

“Sorry for what, little lady?” He kept his eyes on the road as he puffed on cigarette hanging between his lips.

“That I swore.” She blushed.

Willard chuckled. “Nothin’ wrong with it in my book. Just don’t take the Lords name in vein around my Mamma.”

“You want me to meet your Mother?” Surprise was evident in her tone.

“I sure do Sam.” He smiled. “So, you just enjoy the smokin’ and swearin’. Ya do some drinkin’?

“I don’t exactly enjoy swearing.” She giggled. “I had some White Bordeaux at my cousin’s wedding I liked. I wouldn’t turn down other drinks to try if you offered, I suppose.”

“Good to know.” He took a last puff of his cigarette. Put the bud out on the staring wheel and flicked it out on to the road. “How about we stop to have one of those ice cream sodas you enjoy sharin’ with some burgers and fries. We should be going through that New York City by lunch time. They should have a good soda shop.”

“I would love that.” She squealed. “Finally, some real food.”

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash @ The 5SOS Show Tour Boston Night 2 - 13 August 2023

[elisaphoenix13]

Companion For A God

They were all spending a full week at the lake house with the Stark-Strange family. Of course Stephen had to use magic on the cabin so they could comfortably accommodate everyone, but it was a nice way to spend spring break. It was warm enough that the kids could go swimming and the adults spread around the property with their choice activity. Whether it be physical or just sitting around with a drink and talking to each other. Quill chose the latter, but his beer bottle quickly went empty and got up to get everyone they were sitting with another one. Scott, Sam, Clint, and Nat specifically. Stephen had felt too lazy to make lunch for everyone so he ordered a ton of platters. Veggie, fruit, lunch meat and cheese for sandwiches, even some dessert. Quill was going to make himself a sandwich after throwing the empty beer bottles into the recycling bin at the side of the house, but then the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He closed the lid of the bin and looked toward the start of the grove a few feet away which seemed to be what was calling to his sixth sense. Something wasn't right and he wanted to make sure things were still safe, so he walked over to the grove and looked around for any potential danger. There were kids on the property and if anything wasn't supposed to be--

A whine caught Quill's attention and he followed the sound until he came across what looked to be a baby fox. If it hadn't been whining, Quill very likely would have looked him over since it was so small. The cause of its cries was what had the celestial fuming though. It was caught in a fox sized bear trap. Quill had no idea if it was leftover from the time he and Scott were turned into animals, or if it was new, but it made him livid. It was like seeing Scott trapped all over again, even more so when the small creature whined and struggled even more when Quill approached.

"Easy buddy." The celestial said gently as he crouched down.

The fox cowered and whined more and Quill readied some healing energy for when he released the trap. The animal would bolt the second it was released, but Quill didn't want to send it off back into the wild with an injured leg. So with one hand, he somehow managed to open the trap, and with the other he sent the healing energy into the fox's leg as it ran a good distance away. It stopped a few yards away and turned to look back at the god after stopping to lick its now healed paw, and then scampered away out of sight. Only then did Quill turn back to rejoin everyone after finally grabbing more beers for those (hopefully) still waiting for them.

"What took you so long?" Sam asked as Quill distributed the beers and took his place next to Scott.

"Oh...just had to check something. Sorry about that." He responded as he popped the cap off his bottle with his thumb and then opened Scott's.

They sat around and talked some more for about another hour until Quill was roped into throwing the girls and Nathaniel into the lake, and then into helping Clint barbeque dinner for everyone. Seemingly endless amounts of hamburgers and hotdogs were cooked and consumed until everyone was full, and then when it got dark enough, everyone gathered near the fire pit where Steve had built a fire. Marshmallows were broken out and handed around to everyone to roast them to eat as is or to make smores...and Gerald got a little too interested. Since alpacas couldn't consume marshmallows, Stephen asked Thomas to put the creature in his pen for the night so he didn't accidentally get into a bag or three. Gerald was given an apple so he wasn't left out.

Valerie was old enough to enjoy the sugary treats, and she loved them. She helped Stephen eat a couple of his roasted marshmallows that he gave to her in small pieces, and Quill of course licked the small bit that stuck to Scott's bottom lip. He got something thrown at him for the display of affection in front of the kids in addition to being pushed away by his spouse. By his face.

Quill looked back at the fire with a chuckle and then up at the youngest member of the family when he saw her yawn. "Looks like it's bedtime for the baby."

"Sure is." Stephen nodded as he stood up with Valerie. "I'll be right back."

As the sorcerer walked toward the house, Tony came out and gave the baby a kiss on the top of her head as the couple passed each other. During the brief exchange, Quill watched Athena follow Stephen inside the moment he stood up and it still amazed the celestial. She was so incredibly loyal and it was of her own free will. Stephen used magic on her a total of two times, once to communicate telepathically before the wolf first came home with the sorcerer, and second to bind her lifeline with his. It would give Athena the immortality Stephen had, and when the sorcerer died, she would too. Of course, Stephen made sure the wolf was amiable to staying with him like that and she supposedly agreed.

It made Quill wonder what it was like to have an animal so loyal to oneself. He, of course, would have Scott for much longer than the normal human because of his ability to share his immortality, but even Scott could still be taken from him. Death would be permanent for the younger man unlike Quill. The celestial had already hidden his light so that if he was killed he would be able to revive, and only his light being destroyed would kill him permanently. Like with Ego.

Sometimes thinking about it was depressing. He hoped that he would have Scott by his side forever, but even he knew that was improbable. Quill would try his damndest to protect Scott (and Cassie), but he was slowly coming to terms with the idea that he would eventually be alone. Eternity begot loneliness.

Quill and Scott went to bed a couple hours after Stephen returned from putting Valerie to bed, and after a quiet romp in the sheets, they went to sleep for the night. They did get cleaned up and dressed after their carnal activities before they fell asleep, and Quill woke very briefly when he felt Scott leave the bed. He woke again just long enough to wrap an arm around the younger man when he returned to bed...but then a little while later he was woken up again. By some licking. On his face.

What the fuck kind of kinky shit was Scott trying to get him into now and at ass o'clock at night?

"Babe...I love you, but can we please revisit whatever this is at an hour that normal people--pbhft!"

Quill sputtered and hacked when a tongue entered his mouth that definitely wasn't Scott's, and he opened his eyes to look at whoever was licking him. It wasn't a who, it was more like a what. It was the fox from earlier.

"What the fuck?"

"It was just a dream big guy. Go back to sleep." Scott mumbled.

"No. No no. This is not a dream." Quill rubbed his eyes when the fox curled up in the crook of his neck. "Scotty...there's a fox sleeping with us."

"That's great Spaceman. Now sl--" Golden eyes snapped open before Scott sat up and turned on his lamp to look at their new bedmate. "There's a fox."

"You think?" Quill asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How did it get in here?"

"It must have used Athena's pet door...and I left our bedroom door cracked open when I came back in." Scott surmised and the celestial sighed when the fox licked his face again from its position next to Quill's neck. "It's just a baby. What is it doing here?"

"It's the reason I took a while getting the beer. I released him from a trap." Quill admitted.

"Well it looks comfy and unlikely to go anywhere." Scott turned off the lamp and laid back down. "Just like me. Go to sleep."

That had been the end of it. Scott went right back to sleep with his arm slung over Quill's chest, and the fox followed his example, leaving the celestial to wonder what had happened. He fell asleep to the sound of the tiny snores coming from the small creature, and when he woke up the next morning, he got out of bed while somehow remembering there was a tiny fox sharing the bed with him and Scott now. The moment he finished getting dressed for the day, the fox jumped onto his chest and climbed up to his shoulder where it draped itself loosely around Quill's shoulders until it was comfortably laying it's head on one of them.

Scott coincidentally woke up when it happened and burst into laughter the second the creature was settled happily. "You've got an animal version of Val." He said as he rolled out of bed and got dressed.

"I think he's worse."

"He?"

"Yes, he. Which reminds me...I better talk to Tony about the trap. I don't know if it's been there since our incident or what, but he should probably sweep the property for them before one of the kids gets hurt." Quill walked out of the room with Scott as the younger nodded and looked at the fox thoughtfully.

"What are you going to name him? He's clearly not going anywhere." Scott asked.

"I'm not. I'm taking him back."

"Quill, he may be a baby but he's old enough that he was probably recently left on his own. He'll just come back."

Quill sighed as they walked down to the kitchen and Stephen looked up from cutting fruit and raised an eyebrow when he saw the fox.

"Tony doesn't run a zoo."

"He doesn't run an orphanage either." Quill snarked and the sorcerer threw a strawberry at him. The fox just watched it fall to the floor. "He came to me."

Stephen looked back down at the fruit. "Well don't let that strawberry go to waste. Pick it up and give it to him."

"Is Athena going to try to eat him?"

"I'll make sure she knows he's like Tibbs and Gerald. Does he have a name?" Stephen wondered as Quill picked up the piece of fruit from the floor.

"Not yet. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that I was woken up by him in the middle of the night and he's not leaving."

Stephen nodded and Scott joined him to help with breakfast while Quill walked outside to look for Tony after asking Stephen where he was. When he did find the engineer, he hardly blinked when he saw the fox, but he did scowl when Quill mentioned the traps. Tony didn't waste any time setting out to fly around the property with a magnet to hopefully pick up any remaining traps, and Quill made sure the kids didn't get too far from the house while Tony was cleaning up. Their biggest concern was Thomas who used the property as a place to run around and he was the one most likely to step in one while doing so.

Quill grimaced when the fox started licking his ear and he reached up to gently grab his muzzle to stop him. "Stop that. You'll get breakfast when the rest of us do."

After a brief thought, Quill released the fox's mouth (who playfully snapped at the celestial's hand) and grabbed the animal by his scruff to hold up in front of him. He squirmed in Quill's hold in an attempt to get back to his perch, but the god wanted to get a good look at him if he was going to name him. The fox had barely been with him for eight hours and Quill already knew he was going to be a big baby. He couldn't call him anything similar to that though.

"...you look like a Flynn." Quill finally said after a few more minutes of deliberation and the fox yipped happily.

"Like Rapunzel's boyfriend!" Diana said from behind him.

The god sighed. "Damn it."

The fox had his name the second he responded enthusiastically and Quill was too lazy to think of a different one anyway. He tried setting Flynn down on the ground, but the second his paws touched the dirt, he scrambled back up Quill's clothes and to his earlier perch which only confirmed Scott's theory. Quill was stuck with this fox.

At least he was cute.

[justjessame]

Double Shot Chapter 16

Clay wanted to take me out to dinner, but I knew that the twins, or at least one of them was sniffing around town, so I convinced him that we should order in.  And by ‘convinced’ I said we should and his eyes went dark, he licked his lips, and I knew I won.  

We had Enzo’s.  And I saw that they’d gone wild with the garlic bread.  I was laughing when I opened the warmer bag that held it and Clay shot me a weird look.  “Sorry, this is the restaurant that Jensen took me to.”  He waited and I rolled my eyes.  “The owner’s daughter probably thinks he’s the one who I’m sharing with, since this is her way of flirting.”  

“With bread?”  He took a bite and his eyes closed around the flavor.  “Shit, yeah, this is flirting.”  I laughed, and his eyes met mine.  “What?”  

“If Jensen needs a date, Carrie’s more than willing, trust me.”  She knew me, knew that I wouldn’t even want this much bread as leftovers.  This was clearly a ‘remember me’ flirtation.  “I mean, he’s still growing, right?  So extra bread would help.”  He shook his head.  “Jensen needs laid, he is throwing off enough pheromones that I’m shocked animal control hasn’t been called.”  

“As long as you’re not taking care of his needs, I’ll pass his chances with the bread girl on to him.”  Dinner was good.  Enzo’s food was ALWAYS good.  Clay groaned, his entire serving gone, and a good dent was made in the garlic bread too.  Leaning back into the sofa, he smiled at me.  “I think I’m going to be fucking useless for dessert, Char, that food’s made me a sloth.”  

My mouth dropped open in mock shock.  Putting the lid on the leftovers from my own meal and making sure the rest of the bread was secured in its bag, I put them away and tossed the trash from Clay’s.  “No dessert?”  I asked, dropping back onto the sofa beside him, forcing a pout onto my lips I looked up at him from under my eyelashes.  He shook his head and pulled me closer.  “But I really REALLY like dessert, sir.”  

Chuckling he kissed my forehead.  “I think you have a sweet tooth, Charlotte.”  I nodded, and could feel his lips curl into a smile against my skin.  Sighing dramatically, he tilted my head up so he could look into my eyes.  “It has been HOURS since we were in your office-”

And then I was over his shoulder and he was stalking to the bedroom.  “Can I call you by your rank, sir?”  That earned me a tiny swat on my behind and I grinned as I bounced.  “That wasn’t a yes or no, sir.”  

Lowering me to my bed, Clay’s eyes were twinkling as he looked down at me.  “Char, you can call me anything you want to call me, if you can form words after I’m through with you that is.”  I was reaching for him as he moved over me and I wanted to test that promise for all I was worth.

We were wrapped together in my bed, darkness acting as another blanket, and I was grinning so wide that I was shocked the hint of light from the street lights wasn't bouncing off my teeth like a lighthouse beacon.  Clay’s arms were around me, his fingers tracing my skin as we both wound down for sleep.  Sighing into his touch, even as I snuggled into his chest, I felt content.  

“Goodnight, Charlotte,” his voice was raspy, because while he managed to help short circuit my brain, he’d become more vocal to make up for it.  “I can’t wait for breakfast.”  

Kissing his chest with a giggle, “sweet dreams,” I whispered.  Breakfast and dessert, I thought, as sleep pulled me under, were my favorite meals when Clay was around.  

Morning came, and with it another shower and company while I baked.  After breakfast, bent over the stool that he’d sat on while watching me create the pastries that would line the display case in the cafe, I kissed him goodbye and he left with a promise of more.  More dinners, more dessert, more. 

[thehelleniclunarwitch]

Dark Desire [Chapter Five]

Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington

One  Two  Three  Four

Warning: Language, Violence, Mention of Blood, Torture

Do I need to keep apologizing for the length? This story won’t be having any short and quick chapters. This story needs all of the details. 

Enjoy!

Tagged: @justgrits​ @fandomfaery​ @charmed-asylum​ @billysgodcomplex​ @asheseiler​ @frozenhuntress67​  @perkypolarbear​  @aillle8​

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You looked up from the stove as El and Max went running through the house. She shook her head. Ever since the lunch a few weeks ago the two girls had become completely inseparable. You didn’t mind though. El had friends. The boys were a good group of kids, but you liked for your nice to have another female in her life besides you. 

“Hey, can you two please set the table!” You shouted. 

“We’re on it!” El yelled back. 

You returned your attention to the food cooking. Max and El could be heard in your small dining room setting the table. Billy and Steve were on their way over to join you guys for dinner. They would be here shortly. 

The past two weeks had been crazy. After that first brunch, it had opened up a whole new world for you and El. On Friday’s, Steve, Billy, and Max would join you guys for dinner. Max’s new thing was to come over on the weekend and stay the whole time. 

During the week, the three of them would meet up with you and El at Millies. You and El helped the guys buy stuff for their new house. When Max had discovered your artistic skills she had conned you into painting her room. You helped pick out paint, rugs, furniture, and everything else to make their new home not look like another bachelor pad. 

You and your brother were constantly at each other’s throat. He hated your friendship with Billy and Steve. You didn’t care. You had missed Steve. Even after all of the time apart he was still your best friend. Hanging out with Billy felt right. It was like finding your missing piece. 

School started Monday for the girls. This weekend you were taking the girls last-minute shopping for some clothes and school supplies. Billy and Steve were quick to hand over their credit cards. That had turned into an argument. You and Jim could afford to buy El her things. Of course, it was a losing battle. All the battles you had with the boys always ended up with you losing. 

“Max, will you pull out the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and set it on the table?” You asked. 

“I’m on it, Y/n,” Max said as she came running into the kitchen. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang echoing through the house. 

“I’ve got it!” El shouted as she sprinted through the house. 

“Stop with the damn running,” You groaned. 

“Hiya, monkey,” Steve greeted. 

“Steve. Billy.” El smiled. 

“These are for you,” Billy said handing over a bouquet of daisies. 

“Thanks!” El exclaimed. 

“Goober. Butthead.” Max greeted coming around the corner. 

“Here ya go, brat,” Billy smirked as he handed his sister a bouquet of tulips. 

“You were not in the flower shop today,” El said. 

Billy laughed.

“Busted,” Steve chuckled. 

The four of them headed into the kitchen where you were just finishing up dinner. You gasped when you suddenly had a faceful of sunflowers. 

“For you,” Steve smiled. 

“Aw, that’s sweet, thank you,” You told him as you kissed him on the cheek. 

“It smells great in here,” Billy commented as he stepped into the kitchen. 

“Thanks, it was my Grandma Hopper’s recipe. It’s always a hit,” You said as you pulled the last pot off the stove and carried it over to the table. 

Everyone sat around the table eating their dinner and keeping up the conversation. Your phone began ringing. You excused yourself to answer. Nancy’s name flashed across the screen. You went straight back to your bedroom so you could take the call.

“Hey Nanc,” You answered. 

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Nancy asked. 

“Not really, we just sat down for dinner,” You said. 

“You and El?” Nancy asked. 

“Well Steve, Billy, and Max are here as well,” You told her. 

There was a pause. 

“Nancy, you still there?” You asked her. 

“Yeah, how is that going? I remember how hurt you were after Steve pretty much abandoned you,” Nancy wanted to know. 

“Steve didn’t abandon me,” You argued. 

“Y/n, you cried for days after he left you. You can act tough all you want, but Jonathon and I were there for you when he ran off to god knows where with Billy,” Nancy said. 

“Is that what you want me to admit? That Steve hurt my feelings? Fine, Steve hurt my feelings. I was crushed after he said that he was leaving and that there was no mention of me or why he didn’t come for me. But that was years ago. I’m a forgiving person.” You said. 

“I understand that you’re a forgiving person. You’re the best person out of all of us, Y/n. But you deserve an explanation from him. The two of you had a plan together for after graduation and he abandoned you,” Nancy sighed.

“Go on and say it,” You hissed. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Of course, Jonathon and I will pick up the pieces because you’re our friend and we love you. But we don’t want you to get attached just to turn around to get hurt again. We just want to protect you,” Nancy explained. 

Your heart broke. 

“I want to argue with you. I want to defend that Steve has changed and this is different, but I can’t. What I can tell you is that I miss him and I need to give him this second chance,” You told her. 

“Y/n, I just think he and his little buddy aren’t being honest with you,” Nancy said. 

“Nancy, what do you know that you’re not telling me?” You asked her. 

There was silence from the other end. 

“Nancy?” You said. 

“Listen, I won’t be the one to tell you. I can’t be. If Steve cares about you like he says he does then he needs to be honest with you. You need to make him be honest with you. Don’t let him and his little friend shrug you off,” Nancy said. 

“Okay,” You told her. 

“Promise me that you’ll annoy him into telling you the truth,” Nancy said. 

“I promise,” You said. 

She let out a sigh of relief. “Good, are we still on for coffee Monday after you drop El off at school?”

“I’ll be there,” You said. 

“Alright, well call me if you need anything,” Nancy said. 

“I will. Bye,” You hung up your phone and sat on the edge of your bed for several long minutes. 

You looked up when your bedroom door pushed open. El poked her head in the room. 

“Are you okay?” El asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You lied. 

“You’ve been gone for a long time,” El pointed out. 

“I know. It was an important call,” You told her. 

She furrowed her brows together. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Come on you can help me with dessert,” You told her. 

She smiled and followed you to the kitchen. Max, Steve, and Billy were cleaning off the table. Billy started the hot water and loaded the sink while Steve and Max worked together to take care of the leftover food. El placed your untouched plate in the microwave knowing that you would heat it up later. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. After a few movies, Billy and Steve were on their way back home. Max and El were sound asleep on the floor. You’d have to get them up early in the morning so you could get a good start on your day. You left the girls in the living room and headed towards your bedroom. 

You had to send a text to Steve and address your concerns with him about him and Billy hiding something from you. 

Tossing down your phone, you disappeared into your bathroom to get ready. You didn’t get any answers out of Steve. You weren’t really that surprised. Something serious was going on. Especially, if Nancy was bringing it up and pointing it out to you that there was something fishy going on. 

Coming out of your bathroom you went back out to check on the girls one last time. They must have got up when you were getting around for bed as they had left the living room and had curled up in El’s bed for the night. You closed El’s door before heading back down to your own room for the night. 

Sighing, you flopped down on your bed. Your phone began to buzz and you could see that it was your brother. You knew he was calling to wish a good night to El, but you ignored his call. Rolling over, you turned off your bedside lamp and then crawled underneath the covers. There was a lot going on now. A lot of secrets going around and you were determined to uncover them all.

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The dark room had a small lamp in the corner. Billy stood with his arms crossed over his chest. A smile crept onto his face as he watched Steve’s hand pull back for the fourth time before crashing into the man’s face. Blood sprayed from the man’s mouth and Billy heard the sickening crunch of the man’s nose breaking. 

“You had one job, Marcus,”

“I know,” The man cried out. 

Neither of them looked behind them when the door to the room opened. Soft footsteps padded across the floor as Tommy came over to stand next to Billy. 

“How has your week been going?” Billy asked. 

Steve walked over to the table in the corner and started messing around with the equipment. 

“Fine, the girls are keeping busy with school. Y/n spends most of her time at work. But we do have an issue,” Tommy said. 

“And what’s that?” Steve asked as he picked something up to look at it a little bit closer. 

“Besides keeping an eye on the girls I’ve been checking out the police station,” Tommy began. 

“We have eyes on Hopper,” Billy pointed out. 

“Yeah, I know, but are you aware that the FBI is here?” Tommy asked. 

Billy finally looked over at Tommy. Steve about dropped the machine in his hand to look back at his friends. 

“Just the normal FBI or the pain in my ass?” Steve asked. 

“It’s him for sure. I wasn’t at first that’s why I haven’t said anything, but today I saw him go into the diner with Callahan. They had breakfast together,” Tommy explained. 

“Well, honey, we had a good run,” Billy teased. 

Steve shot him a look. 

“Come on now, Steve, we knew he’d eventually figure it out that we came home,” Billy said. 

“Yeah, well, not only do we have Max to keep away from him but Y/n and El as well,” Steve growled. 

“So we’ll up their protection,” Billy suggested. 

“She’s the sister of the Chief of police. We won’t be able to keep her from him for very long,” Steve said. “Especially, when he figures out not only is she spending all of this time with us, but that she is connected to me and now you,”

“I’ll get ahold of the twins and send them out as extra eyes on the girls,” Tommy said. 

“Thanks, Tommy,” Billy said. 

“Is there anything else that I can do for you two?” Tommy asked. 

Billy shook his head. He could practically feel the anger rolling off Steve. “You can go. You’re not going to want to see what’s about to happen next,” 

Tommy nodded and then excused himself. 

“Steve,” Billy said in a warning tone. 

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me, Billy. I am not a child,” Steve snarled slamming the plug into the wall. 

Billy looked down at the man in the chair. “It was nice knowing you,”

“Wait, what does that mean?” The man asked. 

Billy stepped off to the side as Steve turned on the drill. The man began squirming in his spot. He froze when Steve’s shadow fell over him. 

“Steve, please, I said I was sorry. I can make this right,” The man pleaded with him. 

“You had your chance,” Steve said coldly. 

Billy looked away just as the bit of the drill started to dig its way into the man’s temple. His screams began to fill the room. Steve was having a moment. He was angry. They had believed that they had lost the FBI agent. Now that he was here in Hawkins he was presenting the two of them with new issues. 

Issues that they couldn’t really afford to have right now. Leaving, Steve to continue doing what deemed necessary, Billy left to head to his office. They really needed a secretary/assistant to help with minuscule bullshit they had to deal with. Billy wanted to ask Y/n to do it, but Steve doesn’t want her apart of this. 

She had already started breathing down his neck about telling her the truth. Steve doesn’t want to tell her the truth now that they’ve figured out that her brother has kept her in the dark. Billy told him that would end up biting them in the ass if they continued to keep her in the dark, but Steve didn’t want to listen to him. 

Billy knew that Steve loved her. God, he couldn’t blame his best friend. He was already starting to have feelings for her as well. He was growing attached. El and Y/n have so quickly become part of their lives, Billy couldn’t even tell you how that happened. 

The five of them made sense. They worked so well together. Billy wanted to keep Y/n safe too, but Billy had been doing all of this for long enough that he knew the dangers of keeping people in the dark. Max didn’t know everything, but she knew enough of what her brothers were up to. They were going to have to eventually tell her the truth. 

And they would have to hope that they made enough of an impact on her that she wouldn’t go running and screaming right into her brother’s arms. Now on top of all of that, they had to keep her out of the grasp of the FBI. Once they figure out that not only is she Hopper’s sister, but hanging out with the two of them it was going to cause her a lot of problems. 

Billy’s mind was racing. He had to come up with the best way possible to keep her out of the FBI’s grasp. The best way to keep her safe would be to have Y/n move in with them, but she wouldn’t agree to that. She had El to take care of and she wouldn’t willingly give up her home. 

Unless, yeah, unless, she had no choice and her home was taken away from her giving her no choice but to accept. 

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The week had been long. The first week back to school had worn out the girl. Work was starting to slow down, but you had plenty of things to keep you busy. Max had pretty much stayed over all week. Your place was closer to school then hers and with the boys, all living close the group of them liked walking to and from school together. 

Billy and Steve hadn’t been around and kind of quiet. Max had told you that they were busy with their work and when they got like that they kind of retreated and stayed away from the normal world. 

Today was Friday everyone was supposed to be over for dinner tonight, but Billy had sent a quick text to say that he and Steve wouldn’t make it. El called after school to inform you that she and Max were doing homework at Mike’s and then heading to the arcades for pizza and games. 

Having a Friday to yourself was weird. You weren’t sure how you felt about it. But having the night to yourself you were going to take advantage of it. After work, you decided to do your grocery shopping and then stop for take-out. 

Currently, you stood tucked inside your trunk as you started to grab your grocery bags. You wanted to be a badass and carry all of this in one load, but now that there was more than just you and El eating your groceries there was plenty more to carry in. You decided to carry in all of the cold groceries first. 

Loading your arms up you took a step back and tripped over the skateboard Max had thrown off to the side. You felt yourself losing your balance, but then there was a hand on your back. Settled on your feet once again, you turned around to see who had come to your rescue. 

The man was tall with curly brown hair and big rimmed glasses. He was wearing a black suit and you saw the FBI badge dangling from his pocket. 

“Miss Hopper,” He greeted his accent was thick definitely not American. 

“I want to say thanks, but I have a feeling you’re here for a reason, right Agent?” You asked. 

The man smiled. “I’m Agent Alexei Stepanov from the FBI,”

You refused to shake his hand. “What can I help you with Agent?” 

“Please, we will be spending a lot of time together, I insist you calling me Alexei,” He said. 

“I’m good, thanks, again, what can I help you with, Agent?” You repeated yourself. 

“Well, Y/n, I’m hoping you can assist me on a case that I’m working on,” Alexei said. 

“My brother hasn’t mentioned to me about any cases that required the FBI,” You pointed out. 

“Your brother hasn’t called me in. My case brought me here to Hawkins,” He informed you. 

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. Hawkins never had any trouble. So you didn’t understand why he was here. 

“And why do you think that I will be able to help you?” You asked him hoping to get more answers out of him. 

“Now, isn’t the time to talk about that. Would you be willing to meet me at the hotel on the edge of town tomorrow morning for coffee so we can discuss this?” Alexei asked. 

“I can’t. My girls will be home and we have plans,” You told him. 

Alexei smiled and then pulled out his business card. He didn’t wait for you to reach for it. Instead, he reached forward and tucked it into your coat pocket. 

“Call me and we can set up a time that will work best for you,” Alexei said. 

“And what if I don’t want to help?” You asked him. 

“I’m giving you the chance to be a good citizen, Y/n. If you refuse, I will bring you in legally to help,” Alexei said. 

You clenched your teeth together. You hated being given ultimatums. 

“I won’t call you while my girls are home,” You told him. 

Alexei smiled. “Call me at your earliest convenience then,”

“Fine,” You growled. 

“Now, can I help you with your groceries?” Alexei asked. 

You stepped back from him so he couldn’t take the groceries out of your hand. 

“I received your message loud and clear, Agent. You can escort yourself off my property,” You snarled before hurrying away from him and tucking yourself inside. 

Smiling to himself, Alexei headed back over to his SUV. He climbed into the driver's seat before pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket. He called the only number he had saved into his new phone. 

“Hello,” The voice answered as Alexei placed the call on speaker. 

“You were right she’s a feisty one,” Alexei said with a laugh. 

“Did she fight you?” The voice asked. 

“She resisted just like you said she would,” Alexei replied. 

“But did you get her to agree to meet with you?” They asked. 

“She is to contact me soon to step up a meeting,” Alexei explained. 

The other end was quiet. “What’s on your mind? You’re not regretting your decision to work with me, are you?” Alexei asked. 

“No, of course not, I want Y/n and El to be safe,” He replied. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Alexei asked. 

“I’m afraid Hopper will find out that I was behind this,” He admitted. 

“Ah yes, the ultimate betrayal. Not only are you his officer, but he considers you one of his best friends. I’m sure when Jim finds out the truth it’s going to kill him that you turned your back against him, Callahan,” Alexei said 

Callahan sucked in a breath. “I’m not turning my back against him. He isn’t doing his job to keep Billy and Steve away from Y/n and El. If you can do what you say you can do then that’s all that matters,” Callahan explained. 

“It may not seem like it, but you are doing the right thing, Callahan,” Alexei said reassuringly. 

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it,” Callahan sighed. 

“Once things start moving along you’ll change your mind and realize that this is the right thing to do,” Alexei replied. 

“Right, if you say so,” Callahan said. 

“I do. Now, I have a few more things I need to be attending to while there is still some sunlight left,” Alexei told him. 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll check in later,” Callahan said before hanging up. 

Taking one last look at the small house, Alexei pulled away from the curb and headed his way down to the newspaper. If Y/n wanted to play hardball then he’d let her. Alexei knew that there were enough people worried about her that he’d get someone to talk to him about what she could possibly know. 

And why not start off with Jonathan and Nancy Byers. They were her best friends. Alexei was positive that at least Nancy would have something worth sharing that he could use against Steve and Billy. 

Pulling up in front of the Hawkins Herald Alexei looked at himself in the mirror. He straightened out his time and stuck his phone back into his pocket. Climbing out of the SUV, he plastered another smile to his face before heading inside. 

Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington weren’t going to get away from him again. Oh no, he was going to take them down right here in their precious hometown and Alexei was going to stop at nothing to finish the job this time. No matter who or what stood in his way, this was going to end now. 

[yourghastlycloseness]

ON RUNNING AND DIETING (?) ok not really, it’s more body and health stuff. A note-to-self

Blogging on my other iphone, that’s why the caps are in order. I’ve lost about one kilogram even though I’ve been eating supper — which happens when I try to skip dinner but end up ravenous and clearing the fridge and breakfast counter of morsels leftovers — and a lot of dessert. Not sure why that is. Maybe it’s what I’m eating. Generally, if I’m doing a late meal, I avoid/don’t have any craving for carbs. I always want meat or sweets.

I’ve also been doing some light running, which actually doesn’t help at all with weight loss (when I was pushing myself to run further and for longer, I gained weight lmao. So now I keep it light), but it makes you full because you end up drinking a lot of water after a run.

I think I’ve also cut down on eating big meals for dinner. OK, not really. I often do fancy meals at night after work as a way of REMINDING MYSELF THAT IF IM A PART OF THIS CAPITALIST SYSTEM I MIGHT AS WELL ENJOY WHAT IT OFFERS jk (p.s. can we talk about the way non soc sci/arts majors or ppl uneducated on the concepts in general misuse the word capitalism and communism because they want to make some smart, witty comments. I usually don’t correct them; that’s just not my thing because I don’t “know it all”. Though I am laughing at them on the inside because I have my condescending af moments. The only time I ever thought to correct was when this girl doing a presentation in architecture on Impressionism referenced Naturalism and talked about it being a movement of painting nature. I waited for the TA to say something, but she never did)

Wow I sidetracked. Point of this post is I love seeing the numbers go down each time I weight myself, but I’m also not a calorie counter. Honestly i couldn’t give a fuck, I’ll eat what I want as long as I don’t overdo it

But some learning points for myself.

How to eat less

- go to work (I really eat less when I’m working at work because I feel stressed and uncomfortable and am constantly in fight mode)

- buy a heavy lunch; eat 2/3 for lunch and 1/3 for dinner and enjoy a full dessert. You can split the dessert for both lunch and dinner too

- drink unsweetened tea with your meals

- practise eating smaller portions of rice. Eventually you get used to it that anything more than a 1/2 or 2/3’s a bowl seems too much

- it’s OK to not eat on time. Because it depends on what time you sleep anyway. Just be sure not to sleep immediately after eating. You will feel like shit

- trust your body. Does it feel warm? Can you feel the sugar in your blood? GET UP AND GO FOR A WALK/RUN

- eat balanced meals. And I don’t just mean greens and lean meats and a small serving of carbs. I mean a savoury-sweet-smoky sort of balance.

- avoid sweetened drinks. Sweet beverages aren’t a lot of fun anyway. Save the sugar for dessert.

- if you have IBS, yes, I know it sucks. But make use of it to help you cut down on food

- AVOID MOST COFFEES AND ALCOHOL YOU GENERALLY DONT LIKE THESE ANYWAY and they MESS UP YOUR GUT FOR THE DAY SO STAHP PLS

//

On running and why i should keep doing it and how I can keep doing it

- HELPS WITH ANXIETY. Heart no longer pounds like crazy when I spot roaches. I can climb the stairs just fine. What a beautiful feeling.

- sucks that they changed the street lamps to fluorescents instead of the dim orange ones, and now I can feel myself looking like a sweaty, beastly and pasty thing doing circuits at midnight. But ok, I’ll find a route that works ie. I can run up and down that short strip where the street lamps still glow orange

- I will always care about how I look when running. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. What’s important is to choose what time I want to run. 10.30pm-past midnight works. Running late doesn’t keep me up at night. In fact I sleep better when I run at night.

- running keeps my hair from being oily. My hair gets greasy easily (likely from years of overwashong and ruthlessly stripping it of natural oils — I used to wash twice a day. I still wash it twice a day because I can’t stand the feeling of unwashed hair, but now I keep it to one shampoo wash and one no ‘poo wash in a day)

- correct your running posture. Try not to lean forward so much. Unclench your fists

- WARM UP BEFORE AND AFTER RUNNING

- run 1-2 times a week. Keep the runs short and fun, so you don’t dread them

- keep discovering new music to listen to when you run

//

HOW TO DEAL WITH IBS (?) I’m self-diagnosed lol

- stand up or walk around after food

- consume a light breakfast and drink water in the morning - helps with bowel movement

- bathe first so you don’t waste time wondering if you’re going to have a bowel movement

- a simple zao cao routine helps shout-out to my chinesey high school for introducing this to us

- dont eat a heavy breakfast or lunch when at work; it’ll ruin your productivity and ability to focus for the rest of the day and severely upset your stomach

- bread generally causes you less problems than rice and noodles

- ramen broth is a no no

- raw salmon sashimi is also a no no

- you’re lactose intolerant: avoid milk teas and other milk-based drinks for breakfast and lunch

- VEGGIES AND FRUITS

- try not to eat dry rice

- try not to eat brown/red rice. This gives you constipation

- try to eat cooked veggies as far as possible, bcos uncooked veggies can also cause you constipation

- exercise helps with bowel movements

- Train yourself to have bowel movements only at the start/end of the day

- wake up a bit earlier before work to give your body some time to get used to being alive and awake again lol and also to decide if it has to poop

[cmarionthewilkid-blog]

C.O.N.S.U.M.E.D

What happens when we consume more than we need? What happens when our choices are influenced by societal pressures of how things should be? Part 1 of my reflective journal will aim to provide a glimpse at two weeks of a working mom, head of a house of five, who also coincidentally adds event planner often to her job tasks. 

Day 1: I specifically started my consumption journal on Friday, October 25. The day before a large case competition I was hosting on campus. Day 1 starts like most every other day of my life. The 20 minute drive to daycare, followed by the usual ice cap pit stop at Tim Horton’s. This day is special though, with the pressures of ensuring everything was just right for our judges and sponsors. I stroll off to Ferme Beaulieu to spend $328 on gifts. I am thinking that at least I am buying local products (honey, herbs, ketchup aux fruits) and feel pretty great about that. But why do I feel obliged to buy gifts at all? Wouldn’t a sincere thank you be enough? I guess according to Jonathan Porritt (2011), I have fallen victim to consumerism at its best. Somehow, I feel OK about it though. 

 A quick stop at Dollarama for gift bags, disposable coffee cups (cringe!), and plastic plastic trays. Finally, a $148 trip to Provigo for snacks for the case competitors and coaches. Oops, did I mention the trip to the t-shirt printer to pick up the 60 red printed competition momentos. Let’s add the 250+ pages I printed that day! As I sit here and reflect on the necessities (needs) of running a case competition versus expectations (and wants), I come to the realization that most of what I have purchased is simply there to enhance image. 

Day 2 (October 26): Tim’s ice cap (check!). 60 Donuts, 60 pre-packed lunches, 24 cans of Perrier, 60 cans of soft drinks, 40 coffees in disposable cups, 100 plastic glasses of wine. Today, I am completely influenced by materialism and keeping the “image”. Let’s keep in mind that I work for a business school and that comes with some rather large assumptions around how things are supposed to look and be. Not to mention, I am hosting five people from the company who is sponsoring the event, so I need to keep them happy and ensure the event lives up to their expectations. I am reminded of Amitai Etzioni, (2012) and his sentiments about “keeping up with the Jones’”. It is true, when one party sets a certain expectation, we all rise to meet, or better, exceed them.

Today; however, my biggest disappointment was food waste. The boxed lunches were good, but about 25% of people didn’t eat all their meal. Almost 100% of the people didn’t eat the dessert included. We don’t have access to compost, so it went to the trash. Above the clear environmental impact of my event, I am reminded of the fact that one fifth of the world’s richest people consume 45% of all the meat and fish (Shah, 2014). Despite the company providing compostable cutlery and cups, I feel guilty that I sent so many things to the landfill today. To top it all off, Sodexo served a less than stellar menu at the Gala dinner (veal sous-vide). I swear I wanted to eat it, but alas, two bites in and I am done. More to the trash. Exhausted and mentally drained, I wonder to myself where the balance between convenience and waste needs to come into play. Why can’t we have compost stations on campus?

Day 3 (October 27): But first, my ice cap! A friend’s child’s birthday party today so I scramble to get things together. I run to Provigo to grab stuff for mini pizzas to share (forgot my grocery bags, so plastic it is). My friend insisted on no gifts at the party, which I wanted to accept, but quite frankly couldn’t. I’m glad I didn’t because apparently no one else respected it either. I think about this social obligation more deeply (Goodwin, Smith, & Spiggle, 1990). I try my best to make a compromise, we opt for a movie day among friends instead of a traditional gift. I am hoping this small intrinsically motivated action may decrease future landfill waste in the future. Nonetheless, we are filled with waxed juice cups and plates. Back to the Provigo to grab something for the family for supper. I grab peppers in a plastic bag, sausages in a styrofoam package, pasta sauce in a glass bottle, cheese in plastic packaging and pasta in a cardboard box. Nothing much to compost or recycle unfortunately. 

Day 4 (October 28): Monday and back to work. Ice cap, yup! I am starting to get quite the collection in my office recycling bin. My boss just commented on it. I guess it is a bit of an eye sore..haha! 

Two trips to Provigo today. One at lunch to grab George’s bread, deli ham, Coaticook cheese, carrots and dip. Next stop on the way home from work for supper, chicken, baby potatoes and stuffing. 

Day 5 (October 29): If you haven’t guessed by now, ice cap time! Today, my brother (who lives with us) did a fridge clean up. Sigh! I can’t believe how much stuff we threw away. Past date, wilted vegetables, moldy fruits. Why don’t I just throw money directly into the garbage can? Is it normal that the first thing I think about is wasted money? According to a study  by Graham-Rowe, Jessop, and Sparks (2014),  wasting money is indeed a major motivator to minimize food waste. Inspired by this revelation, I am determined to have leftovers for lunch and transform the chicken salad sandwiches tonight for supper. I don’t even have to stop at Provigo today! WOW!

Day 6 (October 30): IC (that’s all I will say). Wednesdays are always tricky because I am running around and teach a class at night. It is one of those days. I grab lunch at Subway (steak sub, chips and a drink) -> garbage.

Run to Provigo after work and grab steak, carrots, potatoes and gravy from Provigo and throw it in pot to cook. I also realize that I haven’t really bought any candy for Halloween for my students in case class. $65.30 later and we have meat and candies! I’ve also been putting out chocolates outside my office door for students. 

Day 7 (October 31): Another ice cap to go please. I don’t even eat lunch today. Now I realize we have no candy for the kids. Drive to Walmart and $68.03, we’ve got goodies. No lunch again, and we go to a friend’s for supper. Off with the 4 year old trick or treating in the rain. She gets a pail of treats, we have 2 boxes of stuff leftover.

Day 8 (November 1): Day of the dead? I think so! Actually order breakfast with my ice cap at Timmy’s this morning. No lunch today. We decide to go shopping after work today as my brother has a 40% discount at L’Equipeur. $218.58 later, my husband enjoys new shoes, jeans, sport jacket, t-shirts, and a pair of sneakers for my mom for Christmas. Oh wait! Marlee needs new winter boots, so $86.22 later, we have new winter boots for her. I also see the cutest dress boots at Marshall’s (fake baby Uggs). I suppose these is what the marketers are hoping for. Top it all off with super for the family at Guido’s. (Wow! I have really been eating like crap!) Day 8 hurt the bank account!  Day 9 (November 2): Maybe I should actually buy some groceries for my empty fridge. I sludge off to Provigo early Saturday morning to spent near $200. At least I have meat, veggies, fruits, and some of the other basics for my family to actually live on. Stop at Tim’s on the way home for the usual. 

Day 10 (November 3): Beautiful breakfast with family (and an ice cap). Spent the day making food (soup, roasted chicken, pasta sauce, etc....). Trying to cut down on the restaurant stops this week. End up at the library with some dear colleagues from GSE503, so I think another ice cap is in order to stay awake (and leftover Halloween Candy). 

Day 11 (November 4): Check that thought. Day went to hell, running late, dead tired, no breakfast, grabbed Rima for supper. Fridge full, but I don’t even care at this point. 

Day 12 (November 5): Today is a new day! I started making iced coffee at home! No Tim’s! I actually did not spend $1 today! Why do I feel so great? Apparently it is something referred to as perceived consumer effectiveness (PCE). When is comes to sustainable buying practices, this PCE is influenced directly by guilt and pride. This becomes important because it means that as a consumer,  my behaviours could be modified by using emotions (Antonetti, & Maklan, 2014).

Day 13 (November 6): Another no spending kind of day! Feeling all pride and no guilt! Maybe Atonetti and Maklan are on to something!

Day 14 (November 7): Last day of recording! No ice caps and going strong.  My husband and I are feeling like we need a little extra family time, so we go out for supper at Mike’s with Marlee. We follow it up by a little Chocolat Favoris. I asked myself why we went to Mike’s again? What a waste!   A quick stop by Provigo to grab snacks for my basketball girls. I make an orzo salad plus pull together fruits, yogurt, cheese and granola bars.

Stay tuned for Part 2 to see if I actually made some changes and what this whole process has meant for me. Until then, I leave you on this note: Waiting on the World to Change

REFERENCES

Antonetti, P., & Maklan, S. (2014). Feelings that make a difference: How guilt and pride convince consumers of the effectiveness of sustainable consumption choices. Journal of Business Ethics, 124(1), 117-134. Retrieved from www.jstor.org/stable/24033218

Etzioni, A. (2012). You Don’t need to Buy This. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/FN3z8gtDUFE

Goodwin, C., Smith, K.L., & Spiggle, S. (1990). Gift giving: Consumer motivation and the gift purchase process. In NA - Advances in Consumer Research. 17, eds. Marvin E. Goldberg, Gerald Gorn, and Richard W. Pollay, Provo, UT : Association for Consumer Research, 690-698. Retrieved from http://acrwebsite.org/volumes/7086/volumes/v17/NA-17

Graham-Rowe, E., Jessop, D.C., & Sparks, P. (2014). Identifying motivations and barriers to minimising household food wasteby. Resources, Conservation & Recycling, 84, 15-23. doi: 10.1016/j.resconrec.2013.12.005

Porritt, J. (2011). The trap of materialism. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/DtwXryPNciM

Shah, A. (2014). Consumption and Consumerism: Global Issues. Retrieved from http://www.globalissues.org/issue/235/consumption-and-consumerism

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: Dreams

dont know if youre taking prompts but if it appeals to you at all could you incorporate kara comforting lena after nightmares of her childhood with lilian and lex? i need some protective caring kara and an exploration of lena's psyche is always fascinating

It was the eighteenth time.

In two months.

That was almost four times per week, though it wasn’t the completely right number. There were sometimes that it was six nights in a row and then not again for ten. It was every other day sometimes, and then none for a week. It was irregular and it was scheduled and consistent, and it was perfect.

But the eighteenth time was different.

Nothing really changed. Not in the newly developing routine that seemed to flow naturally.

Still, Lena came over to Kara’s apartment after a business dinner. Still, she brought Kara the leftovers and dessert. And she earned a kiss  that tasted like tiramisu. Somewhere between telling about her day and making out against the wall in the bathroom with a bit of toothpaste in the corner of her mouth, the thunder cracked. Lena complained about a headache and being exhausted. That didn’t stop her from kissing her girlfriend’s neck.

Not one part of the night was terribly different than any other when one slept over. Somehow, as always, Lena ended up in one of Kara’s discarded DEO shirts and old pj pants that were much too long for her legs. She complained about it half-heartedly almost every morning, claiming them to be tripping hazards and a real problem when it came to dating the hero.

And Lena, in her oversized pants and shirt, as always, found herself hiding in Kara’s shoulder and neck as she finally allowed herself a satisfied, peaceful nights’ sleep. And Kara, in her old tank top and underwear, hid in Lena’s hair and fell asleep just as quickly.

It was textbook.

But deep into the night, well into her deepest sleep, Kara felt a tugging at her shirt and a jostling beside her. Immediately, she woke, tensing every muscle and using every extra sense she could to figure out if something was happening. But amidst the quiet and predictable noises of the night, the sloshing of tires outside in a stagnant puddle, the flickering of the streetlight a block down, the startled skatter of a stray cat-- nothing was out of place.

And then Lena shifted again, tossing and turning but holding onto Kara’s shirt so tightly that it made her nervous.

“Please…” the sleeping girl half sobbed.

“Hey, Lena, hey,” Kara whispered, pushing away the hair that stuck to her sweaty forehead. “Honey, wake up.”

Gentle as she could, Kara rubbed Lena’s back, talking her down from something she couldn’t understand. It seemed to work, until Lena shot up in bed, her hand moving to her own chest now, finally relinquishing Kara’s shirt. With a gasp, tried to catch her breath which seemed to sound like she’d just run a marathon.

“Hey, you okay, Lee?” Kara cooed.

“What? Yeah, of course. I’m sorry. I just.”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“No, no, I was just. It’s fine. Go back to sleep. I’m going to go grab some water.”

Before she could do anything, Lena was out of the bed, and Kara was left listening to the soft muffle of her pants dragging along the hallway toward the kitchen.

The clock blinked that it was just after four in the morning when the light in the kitchen clicked on and crept its way down toward the bedroom door. Kara listened to the sound of water running and Lena drinking. She gave her a few minutes to compose herself before following down the hall, squinting against the imposition into the dark.

“Want to talk about it?” Kara ventured.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine. I’m just a little worried.”

“Don’t be worried,” Lena smiled, composing herself in a short amount of time. A talent that she prided herself on, and that Kara hated.

“You can talk to me, you know?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Do you… want to go back to bed?” Kara offered, still unsatisfied with the answer.

“I think I’m going to check on emails and get started with the day,” the CEO decided. “But you should go back to sleep.”

Lena put the glass in the sink and tried not to look at Kara because she knew that Kara would be watching her, and that was too much for her still sleepy but wide-awake brain. She knew that those blue eyes would be sympathetic and warm and want to make her go to sleep, and so she avoided them at all costs.

But the fidgeting didn’t make Kara moved. Instead she stood there and eyed the girl in her kitchen and tried to figure out how to handle the situation. Lena Luthor was a minefield. It wasn’t that there were many mines, just that the few mines that existed, deep in the ground, were sensitive and extremely large.

“I should actually get started on some emails and rewriting that draft I owe Snapper,” Kara decided. “And I’m kind of hungry.”

“You should sleep.”

“Or,” Kara smiled, finally approaching, slow and steady, as one would approach a scared, bristling panther. “We could do some work, get ready, and have breakfast together.”

Despite herself, Lena melted into Kara’s hands as they ran along her arm.

“You can go back to bed. I’m fine.”

“I’m not fine. I’m starving.”

Right on cue, a stomach rumbled and Lena sighed, her nervous fingers working through their anxiety by playing with the her girlfriend’s stretched top.

“We should feed you then.”

With a smile, Kara accepted the hug that came after the words, contradicting their intention and instead rooting them in the kitchen. She felt Lena dig her nose into her shoulder and then her chest and close her eyes, and all Kara could do was wrap her arms around her shoulders and hold them there for just a moment.

It was a front.

On stage, in all of the interviews, before the crowds and employees, Lena Luthor stood tall and shrugged off the attempt on her life with a noble, endearing kind of strength that pervaded the thoughts and minds of those who weren’t so sure about her. She was the picture of resilience and she was the antithesis to her name.

To Kara, she kept the same kind of unfaltering façade. It wasn’t as vigorously maintained as it was in front of the entire world, but still, when just the two of them made it back to her penthouse, she spent more time reassuring Kara that she was alright than she did believing it, but it didn’t matter.

“Hey, put that ice back on your face,” Kara ordered as she made her way back into the bedroom. “I want a non-black and blue girlfriend as soon as possible.”

“I’m going to freeze my eyeball if I keep it on any longer,” Lena whined, letting her head droop back.

“You’re a literal genius. You know how ice and bruises work. Let me see.”

Tenderly, Kara hovered over Lena’s side of the bed and furrowed as she surveyed the damage caused by the attempted abduction and gun that’d been pointed at her girlfriend’s head not long enough ago for her heart to beat normally. Light fingertips moved along the bone of her cheek and the swelling near her eyebrow before the ice pack was gingerly placed back in its rightful place.

“How do I look, Doc?”

“Like you crawled into the ring with Joe Frazier and forgot how to float like a butterfly.”

“You should see the other guy.”

The bed went back to normal as Kara got up and continued moving around the bedroom. With one eye, Lena watched the tenseness in her girlfriend’s shoulders. She saw the antsy nerves that wouldn’t let her sit still. Instead, Kara plugged in their phones, and powered them down. She went out and double checked the locks on the doors despite being bulletproof. She turned off the lights and finally joined the bed.

“Did you want a pill?” Kara asked, almost ready to hop out of bed again. “Alex gave me some. To help you sleep.”

“Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I know I’m not fine. I lasered a guys hand off that had a gun pointed at your head. If I could take a pill to sleep this all away, I sure would.”

The honesty in the words hung there in the quiet room, and Lena didn’t know how to fix that, so she put her ice pack on the nightstand and turned out her light before making her way back toward her girlfriend in the middle.

“I’m fine. You’re fine. Tomorrow we’ll start over, okay?” Lena whispered, kissing Kara’s jaw and cheek and finally her lips.

There wasn’t anymore energy left in her to do much more, but Lena wrapped her arms around her hero’s ribs and smelled the shower still on her skin. A warm hand slid under her shirt and rubbed the sore muscles of her ribs and back.

“I love you so much,” Kara whispered into the crown of Lena’s head. The words were full of more conviction than normal, as if they were a threat to the universe to try to do anything to mess it up. The fierceness was warm and slumbered in bed with them.

With a small grunt, Lena adjusted and slipped her leg over her girlfriend’s thigh.

“I know. Me too.”

“You sure you don’t want a pill?”

“Shh. I’m trying to sleep here.”

Her pillow snorted at the order and for the first time in a while, Lena felt that happiness sneak back into her bones. Nothing stopped Kara from rubbing her back, even after she fell asleep. Kara felt Lena relax and eventually slip off beside her, and refused to let herself sleep for a little while.

Inevitably, the combination of Lena’s soft breathing and the warmth of her body pressed against her side, the hero felt the heaviness of her eyelids. It wasn’t until she felt the jolt beside her that Kara realized she’d drifted off to sleep.

Tears stained her shirt, bled through to her skin, and she felt the moisture there as the body in her arms was wracked with sobs.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kara murmured, close to Lena’s forehead. She rubbed her hand along her back again.

Nothing really did anything. Lena’s arms circled tighter around her ribs as her face dug into her shoulder and cried against it.

“Lena, wake up, love.”

Nothing.

“Baby, come on. It’s okay. Please, it’s just a dream. You’re safe,” she promised, moving a little more forcefully to wake up the nightmare-suffering girl.

With a final cry, Lena woke herself and shook her head, quickly opening her mouth to breathe as her nose was currently sniffling and running.

“Oh, Kara,” Lena shook her head and clung again, hiding there. “I thought you were dead. I dreamt it. Don’t die. Don’t die for me.”

“Hey, hey, hey, no one is dying. How many times do I have to keep telling everyone this?”

“Please don’t die,” she continued to mutter, her lungs fluttering frantically as the emotions overpowered her restraint. “I saw it. I watched it happen and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t and I saw you and oh, please don’t die.”

“I won’t. I won’t,” Kara promised. “Take a deep breath. It was just a silly dream. We’re safe.”

“But I saw you! I saw it and I couldn’t--”

Despite her soreness and the pain in her body, Lena sat up slightly and kissed Kara’s cheek. She cupped her neck and felt her everywhere she could before resting her forehead against her temple.

The hiccups of crying began to finally supside as Lena refused to let go. To her credit, Kara held back just as hard.

“It was just a dream,” Kara promised again.

“I know.”

“The universe isn’t done with us yet, Lena Luthor.” Lena scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about dying. I’ll always save you. And you’ll save me. But I swear, fate doesn’t take away something like this. I have faith in it.”

“So many things want us dead.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t gotten enough of you, and it’s that simple. I refuse to die until I’ve had my fill of being near you, and I don’t see that happening ever.”

“So you’re immortal now?”

“I’m sure I’ll get sick of you in about eighty thousand years.”

“That soon?” Lena smiled, hear heartbeat returning to normal and her eyes growing even more sore from the outburst.

“Yeah well,” Kara shrugged, rolling towards he, careful to tuck her girlfriend’s wounded body under her chin. “You’re a lot of work, Luthor.”

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were dead. I hated it.”

“I know,” she nodded, kissing Lena’s face again. “Do you want a pill?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she promised, a yawn coming, right on schedule.

“Okay. Let’s sleep then. No more nightmares.”

“Okay,” Lena nodded.

In some small way, Kara expected it. She skated around the issues as long as she could, coming home early and picking up Lena’s favorite dinner, lighting the candles, pouring the whiskey instead of the wine. Little ways to help her wife relax.

On the day that Lionel Luthor was found dead, Lena didn’t know what to feel, except that she had to feel something, and so when she arrived at home, she appreciated the dinner and the candles and the whiskey that was, in fact, not her first of the day, but rather her fourth. And Lena kissed Kara in that way that said to do anything other than talk about the elephant in the room.

Kara let her wife dig her nails into her shoulders. She let her cling to her so tightly she couldn’t move. She let Lena ache and clutch and not think but need to just feel Kara near her, on her, in her, everywhere. There was a bit of salvation in it, at least for a moment.

Sore and bruised and unable to think of anything else, Lena found herself sweating in the soft sheets and in dire need of another drink and a cigarette. She wanted to hurt herself, and that was how she could do it the easiest without raising any suspicions from her wife. Kara would let her hurt herself in small measures. Tiny, little ways like a cigarette and grabbing her thighs too tightly to leave bruises that would sour and grow painful the following day, and that Lena would push and tease all morning just to feel that dull anger beneath her skin, deep in her muscles.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Kara whispered, running her fingertips along the dip in her wife’s stomach, the little divot that formed between her ribs, just below her sternum.

“I know,” Lena nodded, running her nervous fingers through Kara’s matted hair.

The night was quiet and neither moved. Lena closed her eyes and fell asleep with Kara draped across her hips, anchoring there. She fell asleep with an ache in her bones and heart. She fell asleep despite her own aversion to it.

It wasn’t a surprise that she woke up with the fleeting visions of her father and this agonizing burning in her chest. Or that she couldn’t seem to forget the day that she scraped her knee on her fifth birthday when he taught her how to ride a big kid bike, and he cleaned her wound on the kitchen counter, kissing her knee sweetly when she was patched up. Or that before she woke, she dreamt of the day that he pointed a gun at her and tried to have her killed for where she was taking the company.

The sweat cooled and clung to her body, drying and chilling her to the bone. Tears streamed down her face, dribbling quietly into her hair toward her ears. Slowly, she removed her hand from where it was rooted in her wife’s hair to press it against her chest because she was afraid her heart was ready to hammer right through its cage.

For a few minutes, Lena caught her breath and tried to remain as quiet as possible. She almost thought herself successful in not waking up the slumbering hero on her hip, but there was this nagging feeling of never being able to sneak anything past Kara.

“A nightmare?” Kara whispered, lifting her head and wiping her cheek from the the drool that formed as she slept.

“Yeah,” Lena rasped.

“I’m right here.”

“I know.”

A sleepy Kara lumbered toward her wife and slid beside her in the bed, stretching some of the soreness from her bones from the awkward sleeping position.

“One day,” Kara murmured, kissing Lena’s neck and jaw. “I’m going to give you so many good memories, you won’t have room for any of these bad ones. Then you won’t have bad dreams.”

Despite her fear and her worry and her sadness, Lena smiled in the darkness and rolled to her side, deciding to hide in Kara’s neck this time. She’d sleep well if she felt her, if she could smell her.

“You’re my favorite.”

“I’m serious. Your brain won’t have enough room for the bad memories. I’m going to take all of them away and replace them.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Kara grinned, her fingertips dragging along her wife’s back.

[marshmallow-phd]

Barging In

(gif not mine)

Request: Hi!! Could I maybe request a Day6 Young K/Brian scenario??? A fluffy neighbor AU, please?? Thank you so much if you do!! -Admin B 💖

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Reader x Young K

Summary: You lived across the hall from a particularly famous bassist. You’ve done your best to just be a casual neighbor, but what happens when he needs to use your apartment as a hide out?

A/N: Gosh, this was fun!! I took just a small amount of inspiration from one of my favorite movies “What’s Your Number?” and I kept him famous! Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Bam! Bam! Bam!

You groaned, flipping over to smother your face into the wrinkly pillow. Breathing in through your nose, you made a sleepy mental note to clean your sheets tonight.

Bambambambambam!

What the hell?!

With a loud growl, you shot up into a sitting position, more awake than you wanted to be. Who the hell was disturbing your hard earned sleep? Fuming, you threw the covers off of your legs and stomped your way to the front door. Using all your strength, you swung the door open angrily.

“What!”

“Please, let me hide out here!”

You narrowed your eyes at the ridiculous request. Standing in front of you was your neighbor of six months, Brian. However, he preferred Young K, for whatever reason. You didn’t oblige him of the request, especially since you were constantly having to exchange mail with him every other day.

When news around the building had spread about the rock star moving in, you’d simply rolled your eyes. To you, it was an inconvenience with the overly loyal fans constantly hanging around the front entrance. It was a rock and a hard place that you were stuck between, needing to get inside so you could go to your apartment, but not wanting to be too aggressive with the girls and suddenly be roasted on social media as rude and violent to the young people who just wanted a glimpse of their favorite bassist.

As luck would have it, Brian had moved into the apartment right across from yours. You were friendly enough whenever you saw him, only slightly complaining about him to your friends over too much wine. Soo Na insisted that you were secretly attracted to him. All you would do was snort. No, thank you.

Lately, however, you’d been given a nice respite from the craziness as Brian had been gone with his band on a world tour. Apparently, he got back sometime last night.

You blinked, trying to comprehend his request. “You want to what now?”

Letting out frustrated groan, Brian pushed past you and slammed the door behind him.

“Excuse you!” you shrieked. “Who said you could just come in?”

“Shh!” he slapped a hand over your mouth and brought a finger to his lips. “Please, I just need to hide out here for a bit.”

Your eyes widened. Shoving his hand away, you lowered your voice into an irritated hiss. “And why exactly do you need to camp yourself in my apartment?”

Sighing, Brian walked passed you and flopped down on your couch, resting his head on the back cushion. To your relief, he was at least dressed for the day in a pair jeans and a slightly-too-big shirt.

“A couple of fans are hiding out on my fire escape. Security called up and said there’s a crowd out front and the back exit is closed off for maintenance. Some might try to get inside.” He turned to look at you with the most desperate expression. “I don’t have anywhere else to go except Mrs. Kwon’s next door and I can only take so much of her cat plate collection.”

You chuckled at that last bit. It was true. If there was a stereotypical old lady neighbor, Mrs. Kwon was it. She was an absolute sweetheart and you were sure you’d gained a little weight from all the desserts she baked for you over the years. On the other hand, she could really suck you into a conversation to the point where you were desperately searching for a way out that wasn’t rude. She just wanted people to talk to, but her timing wasn’t exactly the greatest.

Giving in, you shrugged. “Fine. You can stay here.” You tried to keep your annoyance out of your voice, mumbling, “There goes my morning plans.”

Apparently, you didn’t mumble low enough. Stretching out on your couch and turning your TV on, Brian offered, “Go ahead and go do whatever you were planning on. I’ll be fine here.”

“Uh, no,” you scoffed. “I’m not leaving you in my apartment by yourself. Besides, it’s not that important.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond, slipping into your bathroom to clean up. Uncontrollable giggles pushed their way up your throat and out of your mouth as you caught your reflection. Bedhead galore and leftover makeup looked not-so-fabulous on you. Dark circles underlined both your eyes, decorated with sleep crust.

“Everything okay in there?” Brian called from your living room.

You frowned at his question. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

After fixing your hair and deep cleansing your face, you decided you were too lazy to change out of your wrinkly T-shirt and sleep shorts. Trudging out of the bathroom, you ignored your unwanted house guest and went to the kitchen.

The smell of fresh brewed coffee was already apparent. You leaned around the wall obscuring your living room from view, zeroing in on the steaming cup resting politely on a coaster on the coffee table.

“Did you make yourself coffee?”

The intruder nodded. “Yup. Hope you don’t mind. It was a late flight last night.”

Rolling your eyes, you just let it go, knowing it wasn’t even worth the fight. Fixing your own small little Keurig cup, you took out ingredients for breakfast.

“Have you eaten yet?” you called out to him.

“Uh… no, I haven’t.”

You tried not to be put out over his surprise. You weren’t exactly super friendly about letting him in. Even though he did barge in. On other hand, he didn’t really have a choice. Still, he didn’t wait for your response and he never asked for food, only shelter. But fixing only breakfast for one would be impolite and grind on your conscience all day.

Once everything was cooked, you separated it onto two plates and brought them over to your small table along with clean silverware.

“Breakfast is ready,” you announced.

Cautiously, Brian stood up and walked over to join you. He was still hesitant, opting to watch you eat instead.

“It’s not poisoned,” you pouted, hoping he wasn’t going to make you waste food.

“Sorry,” he murmured before slowly shoveling food into his mouth.

The two of you sat in silence as you wondered about his resistance to your breakfast.

“Am I really that mean?”

You flinched. That had meant to be a thought bubble, but somehow it escaped and became actual words.

Brian nearly choked on his coffee. “W-what?”

You thought back to your little interactions with Brian since he’d moved in. Sure, you weren’t the most outgoing person and you didn’t stop him every time you happened to run into him in the hallway, but you always figured he was tired of being bothered. And at least you said hello. And you tried to be friendly when getting your mail from him.

“You’re not mean,” he insisted, not really relieving your fear. Seeing your face, he smiled. “You’re really not, (y/n). Maybe a little shy, but you’re definitely not mean.”

“But-” you couldn’t really form the words so you just pointed at his plate.

He laughed. “I was just confused as to why you were being so nice to me to make me food. I was actually starving, but I knew I kind of just barged in here on you. It’s nice to know I picked the right door to bang on.”

You snorted, covering your mouth after the obnoxious noise. That just made him laugh a little harder.

Balling up a piece of junk mail, you threw it at his face just as he was going to take another sip of coffee. The momentum from your throw caused just a small splash of dark liquid to fall from the cup and land on his white shirt. Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” he warned.

Sensing danger, you scrambled up from your seat, running back to the kitchen. Like it was your life line, you grabbed to hose attached to your sink and held out in front of you threateningly.

“Don’t come any closer!” you warned between chuckles.

Brian just shrugged. “You already ruined my shirt, my caring scale is now at zero.”

He charged at you and you squeezed down on the nozzle, spraying him with faucet water. It didn’t deter him at all. Through the shower of water, Brian managed to wrap one arm around you, trapping you in, while wrestling away the hose from your hand. Holding it above your head face down, he gave you a satisfied smirk before striking.

Your hair and shoulders were soaked, but you just couldn’t be mad. Indeed, you’d brought this upon yourself.

Both of your laughs mixed together and bounced off the walls. Brian nearly slipped on the water as he put the hose back in its proper place. Using you to steady himself, you found yourself only a few inches away from his face. His crooked smile was nearly blinding and you admitted to yourself that his eyes were actually really pretty.

Said eyes were staring at you right now with a sparkling gleam. They shifted down lower, past your nose and to what you could only assume were your lips. Your heart was pounding in your ears, giving off the chant “kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.”

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

The sudden intrusion broke the two of you apart and you couldn’t quite decide if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Young K, you in there?”

“Yeah, give me a sec.” Said rock star was now scratching the back of his head. Turning to you, he explained, “That’s my manager. I told him where I was hiding out.”

You nodded, “Oh, okay.” Clearing your throat, you stepped around him. “Let me grab you a towel.”

Pulling two clean towels out of the hall closet, you handed one to Brian before drying your own hair.

“Thanks,” he said.

You followed him to the front door, a little sad to see him go.

He stopped before he could open the door. “This might be a bit forward, but do you care if I come over for dinner tonight?”

You blinked. “Come… over? For dinner?”

Pink rose on his cheeks. “Yeah, I, um – well, you see, I’d invite you over for dinner at my place, but if they don’t have security fixed on my fire escape and the fans happened to see us together, I wouldn’t want that to cause you any trouble because that would really suck and we’re just now really getting to know each other and–”

You put a hand over his mouth to stop his rambling. “I’d love to. Besides, I have a feeling I’m a better cook than you.”

He nodded. “That is more than likely.” Grinning, he turned the handle, opening the door to reveal his very confused manager. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Smirking, you replied, “I’ll see you tonight, now that you have an actual invitation in.”

[lizzybeth1986]

Domestic Bliss Ask - Hana x Persephone

@kennaxval asked me to do a Domestic Bliss headcanon for Hana and my OC Persephone, so I thought I’d introduce her here before I plunged in. Persephone is Penelope’s much-older and very bossy sister, who currently lives in Paris and meets Hana when she returns to Cordonia for work purposes.

I have an NSFW ask to be done at a later point, requested by an anonymous poster, which will take a little more time. I’m still trying to figure out for certain what their sexual relationship looks like.

Who first brings up moving in together?

Hana, when she proposes (yep, she does the proposing, and no one quite believes either of them when they tell this story to people) just before Persy is scheduled to go back to Paris. Persy doesn’t give her a straight answer at first and leaves, and Hana believes she doesn’t want a steady relationship, but she returns eventually - for good - and accepts.

Their first few months as a couple are pretty much split between Valtoria and Portavira (Persy and Penelope’s parents’ estate). But once Hana’s best friend Esther marries King Liam and moves to the palace, Persy moves base to Valtoria, eventually working on her immensely successful fashion-and-lifestyle blog from there.

What is their morning routine?

Hana wakes up earlier. Persy’s definitely the night owl of the two. Even on days when she doesn’t have something to do, it usually takes her a while to go to sleep. Hana on the other hand sleeps as soon as she gets into bed, and loves to do something creative before Persy gets up - some days it’s embroidery, some days it’s playing the piano. Hana usually gets breakfast ready, but Persy insists on taking over during the weekends.

What is their nighttime routine?

Nighttime is Hana’s reading time, and on the nights Persy is free, it’s one of the few routines she picks up from Hana. Hana is very old-school - she can’t imagine reading without turning over pages, without the smell of old paper, the way it feels beneath her fingertips. Persy uses her Kindle (blasphemy!).

Occasionally they’ll stop to read aloud passages that stand out to them, passages that remind them of each other or sound inspiring. Persy tends to read out passages from her favourite book Women Who Run With the Wolves, a book she’d love to see Hana read.

Hana misses home, sometimes, so she thumbs through an old collection of classical Chinese poetry (her favourite being the poems of the Song Dynasty) that she had secretly bought as a young adult, and reads out verses. Her favourite is “The Night of the Lantern Festival”: she says it reminds her of Persy.

Who takes long showers/baths?

Definitely Hana. She’s a complete water girl, loves the feel of water on her skin, and will never pass up the opportunity to enjoy a shower for as long as she humanely can.

Persy likes being quick and efficient in all things, so it’s just “get in, get clean, get out”.

Who cooks, and who sets the smoke alarm off?

The more elaborate, family-style cooking? No one can do it like Hana can. Cooking is a stress buster for her. It’s what calms her down when she’s upset or worried. When Persy is around she will happily take over the cooking completely. Because if it were really up to Persy, they’d have minor variations of the five dishes she knows, every week. (“Good God Hana stop behaving like my mother. You’d think there was an entire army living in this house, not two people”)

Had Persy not fled from Cordonia during Leo’s social season…or been pushed into making a life for herself, she would have probably ended up like her “I can’t even boil water!” sister. Persy’s first few months in Paris were hard because she knew absolutely nothing - not how to cook, not how to buy supplies, not how to store food. She had to start over from scratch, and learn at least a few simple recipes - and those recipes have carried her over the past 5-6 years, and she isn’t exactly ready to change routine. If she’s feeling particularly ambitious, Persy will try to cook her grandmother’s special curry chicken. It usually winds up tasting like anything but curry chicken.

Who does the shopping?

Back in Paris, Persy tended to buy supplies only for a few days, and used up whatever she had in the next one or two, with portions meant for just a dish or two (unless she had guests over). She’s not used to the idea of buying supplies in bulk, or having leftovers for dinner, so Hana - who is used to the Cordonian way of buying and using supplies - was puzzled by Persy’s struggle to cook with so much. Hana knows certain dishes tend to taste better later on in the day (or the next day), so she likes shopping and cooking in larger quantities than Persy is used to, with some leftovers for dinner.

Who fixes it when something breaks?

Neither. They usually hire someone.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Reading, obviously.

Outdoors, they both love horses and Hana - who knows every dressage style imaginable - gets to show off her dressage moves.

Discuss fashion trends: I mean, it’s part of Persy’s job, and Hana’s, trends are what they rely on to move forward in their careers. There are times when Persy will have a suggestion that could just make a particular design Hana’s working on come together, and Hana can sometimes act as Persy’s sounding board for ideas.

Sex - how can I forget sex? It took Hana a while to be truly ready, but she’s a warm and enthusiastic partner once they do explore that aspect of their relationship. Persy’s never really been this involved in a relationship before, and this willing to give herself completely to someone else, so in a lot of ways it’s a new experience for her too.

How do they celebrate birthdays and anniversaries (day they first met, first date, month anniversaries, etc.)?

Persy’s birthday - now that she’s returned to Cordonia - is celebrated with the family at the estate, and Hana’s tends to be celebrated more often either at Valtoria or the palace, depending on King Liam and Queen Esther’s schedule. Persy has spent the last 6 years basically just going to the nearest bar, flirting and treating herself to a few extra drinks on birthdays, so this whole idea of celebrating in public is something she’s still getting used to.

Hana is quite fond of TCaTF (the book, not the show), so when she found out that Persephone and Penelope could trace their ancestry back to what was once Ennan, the capital of Fyordia (certain records hint at a connection to King Tevan, but nothing conclusive), Hana’s taken an interest to exploring more of the Portavira duchy. Most anniversaries, Persy takes Hana to historical and natural sites in and around the area because she knows how much Hana loves that. Sometimes they go to the Fydorian Museum, highlighting their spirit and bravery in helping Queen Kenna of Stormholt in the great battle against Empress Azura. Persy’s seen all this enough times to be bored by it by now, but she’d take Hana there everyday just to see the look on her face.

What were their first impressions of each other?

The first time they met was extremely commonplace, very random, and honestly they left no lasting impression on each other. Persephone was a stranger who suggested another dessert at a bakery Hana was visiting, and Hana was a woman who spoke kindly to Persy’s kid sister. They met for no more than ten minutes, spoke barely two lines two each other, and went on with their lives.

By the time Persy eventually came back to Cordonia at least two years after this meeting, Hana had already begun to have an impression of Persy that was largely fed by a very anxious, very stressed Penelope’s reaction to the news that her older sister was coming - that Persephone was intimidating and rather scary, really.

Persy didn’t really relate much to Hana in the beginning - they were far too different - but she did admire from the get go Hana’s courage in making a life completely independent of her parents, and knows very intimately what a struggle it must have been to demand she be heard, and leave if her parents were unable to listen to her. 6 years ago, Persephone would have been one among the many potential brides vying for Prince Leo’s hand, had she not gotten an job offer in Paris, wrangled by an old boarding-school friend who lived there. She was able to make a cleaner break than Hana did, but she remembers how hard that first year was. Hana may have looked like a pushover, but Persy realised soon enough that in certain things she would definitely hold her ground.

When did they each know that they wanted to be with the other person?

For Persy it was a realisation that happened over time, up until a point where she started noticing just how protective she was around Hana, and how angry she’d get on her behalf when someone tried to take advantage of her kindness. It was disconcerting, and scary, and Persy tried to ignore how she felt for at least a few months before she realised those feelings weren’t going to disappear.

Hana was physically attracted to Persy early on, and struggled with how raw and exposed she felt around her. What she felt for Persy was very, very different from what she had once felt for Esther, but the intensity felt familiar. It took her quite a while to figure out that what she felt for Persy was the real deal.

Do they have any inside jokes?

Not any that I know of, at the moment! This is something I’m still working on.

Do they have any embarrassing stories they’ve sworn not to tell anyone else?

Also something I’ll need to think about. I haven’t figured out any yet.

Do they enjoy having time apart, or do they go a little crazy?

They don’t particularly enjoy time apart, but they’re not entirely going to go crazy missing each other either. Persy’s been pretty much brought up away from people she’s been close to, so she already has her ways of coping when someone she loves and lives with isn’t by her side. Hana has a slightly harder time getting used to being without Persy, but she has her ways of keeping herself occupied.

How do they cheer the other one up when they’re having a bad day?

Hana plays the piano for Persy. She’s composed a few pieces in the time they have spent together, and there is one composition that never fails to calm Persy down whenever Hana plays it. Hana also likes to cup Persy’s face in her hands and plant little kisses all over, and Percy secretly loves it every time she does that.

On one of Hana’s ‘bad days’, Persy likes to cuss in French (basically the first things Persy will ever master, in any language she's learning, are the curse words). It makes Hana laugh, and Persy proceeds to teach her every curse word she’s picked up in Paris, including “fuck you”. All Persy has to do is say zut, or merde (shit) in an accent that’s so clearly Cordonian, and Hana gets into a giggle fit. No idea why. She just does.

Let’s not even start with what happens when Persy translates f-bombs into French. Va te faire foutre sounds so elaborate for a phrase that’s just supposed to mean “fuck you”.