#i had to toss some stuff but i was able to salvage most of the clothes w the ol vinegar baking soda 6 cycle combo.

[sweet-milky-tea705]

Anyone have any tips on getting cat piss out of boots🙃

[anemonelovesfiction]

How To Make A Net

Rotxo x Human! Y/n

If y’all havent noticed I love writing x human reader stuff, idk why, I just do. Please remember that this has smut in it and if it has smut, the characters are of age! And if for some reason I ever forget to mention it with the metkayina characters I Always make sure to express that they have tattoos somewhere

Unless stated otherwise, Pandora has breathable air for the human character. Reader is AFAB! This isn’t proofread at all so sorry for any mistakes I just wanted to post this to focus on another fic 😉😉

P in V, thigh riding, fingering, oral, lotsa stuffs

Word count: 6.1K

Noticing him was easy. He was kind, timid, but sweet. I would notice how he’d almost always drop his three younger sister off to their lessons before going off to do a bit of dive work or hunting on his own. He’d typically started providing for his family on an occasion since his fathers injury. He was always thinking about other people and constantly looking out for everyone. It made my heart race when he’d ask how everyone was- including me. Even if I was an outcast for the most part, due to being human, but he was nice enough to ask.

I sigh as I’d allowed myself to continue spacing, daydreaming was not on the schedule for today and I’d known that since waking up, but sometimes couldn’t stop myself whenever there was a small break. I sighed while picking up the basket of fruits I’d gathered for the party.

“How are you still on your second basket?” Kiri asks as she hands me another empty one.

“I’m human, Kiri,” I remind her and she shakes her head.

“You’d be on your fifth one by now. You always race with Spider, wheres your head at today?” She asks while grabbing two empty baskets from my pile- which was less than what anybody else would be assigned. Some days I’d go above and beyond and collect as much fruit as any other Metkayina, but they knew humans limits were below theirs and tried not to overwork us. She starts climbing the tree’s to collect more of their fruit, taking her hunting knife out of its holder, and rustling through the leaves.

“Why are you helping me, you have your own chores to-“

“I’ve finished them.” She comes down with a handful and fills up half the basket and I’m the slightest bit pissed that I couldn’t do that.

“How are you able to do that? I wish I had your body.” I start climbing up the tree next to hers. If we were being honest, I’m sluggish compared to Kiri, but if you compare me to any other human, I’m quick.

“My size helps, but your body is nothing to despise, Y/n.” Kiri smiles. I can see Rotxo coming from behind her with a net in his hands, no doubt coming to ask Kiri for help again. I can’t help but look down at his thighs. They had tattoo’s on them which was rare for the men to have as they usually had face and arm tattoo’s.

“Hey Kiri, could I ask for your help?” He’s so sweet when asking and patiently waits for her response.

“What’s wrong with it this time?” She asks as she places her hunting knife back in its holder, holding her hands out for him to show her.

Kiri was an amazing weaver, but was better at making blankets or even shawls, like the one she most often wears around her shoulders during the cool mornings, but she’s hit or miss with nets. Tuk is surprisingly very skilled but has no patience to weave one unless she wanted to, she has an affinity for making necklaces, armbands, and other jewelry. The armband I had was one she made for me when we still lived with the Omaticaya, she made a matching one for Spider.

I resist the urge to jealously roll my eyes and decide to let them have their privacy as I climb the tree, I have great balance and managed to pull the fruit from the tree, cut the stem to get it off, and climbed halfway down before tossing it into the basket making sure not to do it from too high as it could bruise and ruin the fruit.

“I’m telling you, it’s not worth salvaging if every few days another piece breaks off.” Kiri says as I head back up and I wanna punch the air so bad right now, but I refrained.

“Y/n, how are you still on your first chore?” Spider asks while taking one of the baskets that Kiri took from my stack and settling it on the bottom of another tree.

“Why is everyone commenting on my lack of effort today?” I grumble and toss the fruit I’d just cut and watch it hit the branch he was next to.

“I could have died!” Spider yells like the drama queen he is.

“Thats for wrapping my umbilical cord around my neck-“

“You always bring that shit up, I didn’t even know I was alive Y/n, let it go!” He bickers back.

“Well clearly you knew enough about assassination attempts, it’s a good thing you failed.” I huff and look up in time to see the same fruit I’d thrown at him hit the branch next to me. As it rolled down to the ground below, I could see both of the bruises we caused.

“Stop wasting fruit you two!” Kiri yells.

“Tell your whatever-you-are to knock it off.” I answer back.

“Tell your best friend she’s an idiot.” Spider bites back while moving on to another tree, basket already a third of the way full. Shit, everyone was faster than I was today, I might be coming down with something.

“You know he likes you right?” I ask Kiri waiting for Spider to be out of an earshot.

“Who are you talking about?” Kiri asks while rolling her eyes, but entertaining me with a smile.

“Both actually, but I was talking about Rotxo.” I stated while finally filling my third basket.

“No he doesn’t,” Kiri waves me off but I laugh a little.

“He comes to you every time his nets break, no one else.” I stated.

“That doesn’t mean he likes me-“

“He comes to you, only talks to you, he’s smitten with you,” I conclude and carry my basket over to where they were supposed to be dropped off. She follows me with her full basket and Spider is started to finish up his.

“Why don’t you make him one?” Kiri asks and I blush.

“I’m human, I can’t weave to Metkayina proportions, it would take me forever, and wouldn’t that be considered a courting gift?” I stated.

“Wait, what does you having to be a human have to do with anything?” She asks and I laugh.

“They don’t trust humans, why would they accept a gift from us? I’m surprised they let us handle food most days, but thats probably because someone is always watching us.” I stated.

“They trust you, you have proven yourselves.”

“Sure-“

_________

And here I was, sitting down in our marui, listening to Tuk’s instructions on weaving a net. The material was somewhat harsh on my fingers as I listened to her explain when to pull what and where. I finished off the fourth row and can already tell the squares were too small, meaning there’d be more of them than there should be, meaning I’d use up more of the material.

“What am I doing wrong Tuk?” I asked as I look up at her to see her looking out of the Marui and toward the splashing coming from the water below. I sigh quietly and want to kick myself in the head.

“I’m not sure,” Tuk shrugs and looks back at me.

“Alright, thats it, go on.” I shoo at her with my hands and she giddily stands up, turns around to leave but lets her shoulders fall and turns back around.

“But we need to make a net-“ She begins walking back but I place my hand on her chest stop her and she does.

“I forget to let you be a kid sometimes, I can ask you during another time when you’re actually wanting to make a net. Now go enjoy your free time before tonights party.” I reassure her and she nods, hugging me and lifting me as I stood on tippy toes.

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll be back!” She promises before heading on the walkway and diving off into the water from there. She scares me when she does that most days.

“I thought I heard you here,” Spider says while walking toward me and squatting next to me.

“What do you want?” I asked while untying the net I’d just failed at making.

“The rest of us are going to hang out at the spot if you wanted to come,” he offers and looks at the net I’d started unweaving. “Whats that you’re making?” He asks and I show him whats left of it.

“A failure. But it doesn’t matter, I can’t make it to the correct proportions. Also I can’t hang today, I’m on babysitting duty.”

“Tuk’s in good hands-“

“And Neytiri would skin me alive, Jake would give me a lecture, Kiri would side with her parents, and you’d stay silent.”

“What about Lo’ak?” He asks as if it was unfair I’d let him off the hook.

“Making out with Tsireya,” I let out a laugh and he does too.

“Did you wanna bring Tuk with?” He asks.

“No, she needs time to be with her friends, plus I need some time to think.” I admit.

“You sure?” He asks again and I laugh lightly.

“Go impress Kiri and leave me alone, monkey boy.”

“Fuck off-“ He hides his blush by looking away but I saw his smile. He stands and starts running off. “See you tonight!” He yells as he runs.

I sigh and wrap up the material I was using back into a rolled up ball before sighing, sitting at the opening of the marui with my legs crosses as I looked off at Tuk playing with some girls. Too far into my own thoughts to hear someone come up until I see teal skin. I look over towards the legs and my eyes roam up at familiar tattoo’d thighs, lingering on them before going back up to his face.

“I’m sorry, did you say something Rotxo?” I asked and offered a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as water drips from his hair and I’d failed to notice he was wet, he was probably in the water just now.

“I have to babysit Tuk until Neytiri or Jake come back, sorry I couldn’t hang out with you guys.” I apologize and he seems confused.

“I’m watching my sisters so I couldn’t hang out either.” He explains and sits next to me. I furrow my brows and hear the high pitched laughter and yelling coming from the water near us. I peer over and notice Tuk playing with his sisters and I feel embarrassed for not having noticed earlier.

“Your mind has been elsewhere all day, are you okay?” He asks and outstretches his hand to feel my forehead and my eyes widen at the gesture, my body getting rigid.

“Sorry-“ He immediately takes his hand away from my head as soon as he notices my facial expression change.

“N-no it’s fine, I just didn’t think you would want to touch me,” I stated and realize how bad it sounded after it came out of my mouth.

“Why would I be afraid to touch you? You are not ill, right?” He asks and I shake my head.

“No!” I want to slap myself for yelling. “I’m not sick, at least I don’t think I am.” I reassured him.

“Then why would I not want to touch you?” He asks again.

“Because I’m tawtute.” I responded honestly and the look that flashed through his eyes was indescribable, but was gone as soon as it came.

“I do not care that you are tawtute.” He smiles.

“You’re a nice friend, Rotxo.” His face falls after my statement and before I can ask him what was wrong, he speaks.

“What were you doing earlier?”

“Oh, before you came up here?” I asked and he nods. “I was asking Tuk to teach me to weave a net, but I was failing, so I untied it.” I explained, holding up the string I’d already untied to show him.

“I can show you,” He offers and the smile is plastered back on his face.

“I thought you couldn’t weave nets, isn’t that why you always go to Kiri when yours breaks?” I asked and his ears immediately flatten against his skull, his tail thumps a couple times, how cute!

“I have been learning to fix the same net, not to make a new one, but I can help you make a new one.” He explains and I nod.

“I don’t want to waste your time since you’re watching your sisters-“

“It’s okay, I can hear them from here. If they need any help they know to call to me and I’ll be there. And they haven’t done that yet.” He flickers his ears and I nod, slowly smiling.

“Show me how you do it.” He asks and I begin by doing everything Tuk has taught me, weaving the material around my fingers and once I pull it all together to tie off the first square, it becomes smaller than it needs to be. I sigh in frustration and show him, he’d taken to look over my shoulder as I did that.

“Oh I see what is- uh- how do I say this nicely.” He stops to think before looking back at my face.

“Just tell me, please.” I beg.

“Your four fingers are getting in the way, and when you get them caught on the string, it tugs the loop, making it smaller. You need to trust yourself and stop using the middle one so much.” He says and I furrow my brows, look at the palm of my hand, then face it toward him.

“I can’t remove them and how do I trust myself?” I asked and he gently places his pointer finger and thumb on the tip of my middle finger, grasping it, and gently tugging it.

“Stop using this one, Y/n.”

“Yes. But how?” I ask.

“Let me show you, may I?” He asks and holds his other hand out to take the string from me. I hand it to him as he unties the square I’d made.

“I can’t see what you’re doing unless I’m looking over your shoulder but you’re pretty tall and-“

“Come.” He states and grabs me by my waist, sitting me on his lap, my own thighs coming to contact with his muscular ones and I bite my lip at being this close in proximity to him. It felt hard to breathe.

“Just look at my fingers.” He states while talking me through the process and I felt myself shift uneasily in his lap but focused either way.

“Now you try,” He hands me the finished square he’d made and I begin to do the same movements I saw him do and struggle to keep my middle finger out of it but when I did, the square matches his and I gasp, bounce giddily, and turn to show him.

“I did it!” I exclaimed happily.

“I knew you could do it.” He smiles gently and I bounce from the happiness and feel his hands on my hips, I fight a blush and turn to look at him with a questioning gaze.

“Stop bouncing so much,” He groans and seems like he’s in pain. My face switches to worry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“ And thats when I felt why he’d told me to stop. I can’t find any other place to look at except his face and his eyes were closed, as if he were ashamed for what transpired.

“Rotxo,” I place my hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes, but darts them the other way. “It’s okay, this happens with humans too.” I explained with a small smile.

“Do you want me to get off or stay here?” I ask and he glances back up at me, hands still on my hips, I’m unable to move unless he lets go. He doesn’t say anything so I try again.

“Okay, uhm, do you need help to make it go down or-“ His eyes find mine and I’m stuck staring at them. They were always such a beautiful hue like the ocean, but not, at the same time.

“Yes,” It was so low I almost missed him say it at all.

“Okay-“ I state again but his hands have yet to move from my hips and I can almost feel the permanent impression his hands were making on my body. “Do you want me to use my hands, my mouth, my feet?” I asked while thinking of the many different ways to jerk men off there was in porn.

“Feet?” He asks and I nod.

“Is that what you want?” I asked and he shakes his head.

“I can start with my hands,” I show him my palms as best I can with how he’s holding me and he nods sheepishly. He gently lets go of my hips and places his palm on the floor. I turn my body to face him and he looks at me in confusion.

I sit on his lap and face him again and his confusion is evident but very cute. I grab his hands again and place them on my hips.

“I’m going to kiss you, when you feel ready, move my hips over your- yeah.” I explain and he seems to understand, I grab his face in my hands and caress his cheeks, looking intensely into his eyes, then in to capture his lips in my own. I could hear him grunt and his fingers are grasping me tighter.

I moved my lips against his, the blush and heat consuming my face was unmistakable, but I continued moving my lips against his own before swiping my tongue on his bottom lip, he groans and moves my hips over his groin and I moan. With our mouths still connected, he caresses my bottom lip as he grinds me over himself, making me gasp, moving his tongue in. I could feel him searching around my mouth, fighting my tongue for the dominance I gave up easily.

“You feel so warm on me-“ He disconnects our mouths and places his forehead on mine while still grinding me on his penis.

“This feels so good-“ I pant and use my hands to squeeze his forearms to try gain some kind of balance on myself. My legs were spread over his thighs as he moved me and the angle was starting to rub my clit deliciously over his hardened member. He sneaks his nose into the crook of my neck and takes big huffing sniffs, this tickles my neck and causes goosebumps to take over, it also makes me moan loudly.

“Rotxo~” Unbeknownst to be I’d said that right in his ear and he grunts. “L-let me use m-my hands now-“ I panted, struggling to string the sentence along.

“I prefer you like this, saying my name like that. Say it again, Y/n.” He sounds demanding and it’s making me become a puddle.

“Rotxo, I don’t think I can- fuck,”

“You can fuck, you can definitely fuck.” He grunts and slides me off his lap. I whine at the loss but see him undo his loincloth, he manages to shift it off himself and staring back at me is an angry teal colored cock, the tip is a darker teal but I’m assuming it’s started to turn a darker shade due to the thrusting. The head is bulbous and thicker than the shaft but still relatively the same size. Theres no way I’d fit the entirety of that in my mouth but I lick my lips subconsciously at the sight.

My eyes nervously travel toward his and back down at his dick. I’m shocked at how big it is but get on my knee’s in front of him and reach over slowly. I grasp it gently, my entire fist wraps around but my fingers never meet, and I’m shocked, I bite my lip and look back at him to see him already staring at me.

“I-I’m going to move m-my hands now.” I stutter through my sentence and drag my hand up slowly, he’d produced enough precome for my hands to glide on him smoothly. I reach the head and I could feel my fingers separate further.

“Fuckin Hell you’re huge-“ I mutter in English, completely transfixed on the size, I couldn’t believe I was touching his dick.

“Thank you,” He mutters back in Na’Vi and I look back at him in shock.

“You’re welcome-“ I respond back in Na’Vi. I slide my hand back down his length and watch how seems to relax to my touch, but the second my hand is back on the tip I can see his body stiffen.

“Is the head sensitive?” I asked and he nods, I smile at the sight before me and pick up my pace. Making sure I pay extra attention to the head. He’s becoming more vocal and it’s making me wetter than when he was grinding on me. But I had to pay attention to his needs at the moment.

“I need to come-“ He grunts and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to.

“Its okay, Rotxo, you can come.” I mutter but he shakes his head.

“Need more-“ He whines and I somehow understand what he means.

I’d long since been using my two hands to twist around the head of his cock, one on top of the other, but I figured he wanted more, so I leant my head down to lick the tip of his cock, then using my tongue to graze the length before placing as much of the tip as I could in my mouth and when I came to catch my breath, he spurt his come on my chest.

“Thats a lot of come,” I mutter but still use my hands to continue pumping his length as he comes. Once he’s done I let go, his chest is heaving and I swear it’s doing something to me but I can’t indulge in this. I knew I’d caused this problem so I fixed it, I shouldn’t be greedy and expect the same treatment but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it.

“Come here,” He motions for me when he’s caught his breath and is sitting up again. He kisses me while placing his hands on my hips again. It wasn’t until I felt the cold air slapping my slick that I realized he’d taken the liberty of untying my loincloth and slid it off my body.

“Sit-“ He tells me as he lifts me up and sets me on his thigh. I could feel the goosebumps take over, but being turned on by his skin on my sensitive thighs that I moaned loudly, fuck I didn’t mean to.

“You’re very warm, Y/n.” He kisses my neck and glides me on his thigh, I’m ashamed to say watching him come made me wetter, but the trail I’d left on his thigh was embarrassing. He coo’s while lifting my chin up to look at him, the blush covering my face was unbelievable, and I knew because of how hot it had gotten.

“Did I make you this wet?” He asks but he doesn’t need an answer, but I nod anyway.

“You’re so cute when you are stunned, but I prefer if you called out my name like you did earlier.” He slides me back and the friction has me biting my lip, his thigh felt so nice rubbing in my clit.

“You know, I always catch you staring at my thighs,” He grumbles in my ear once I’m closer to him.

“Rotxo~” I moan in embarrassment and pleasure.

“Yeah, just like that.” He coo’s, gently sliding me by my hips, making sure to tilt them at an angle to continue rubbing on my sensitive nub.

“Please Rotxo,” I whine and he stops.

“Please what?” He asks teasingly.

“Use your hands,” I find it hard to tell him what I want, but thats exactly what he wanted me to say.

“Do you want to come too?” His breath fans on my neck and his voice is making me feel hotter.

“Yes,” I sounded breathy but he lays me down and switches his position quickly, bending in front of my pussy and he takes a whiff, my cheeks redden.

“You smell so good-“ He groans. He rests his palm on my mound, his fingers touching my lower belly, and his thumb dips down to rub slick over my clit and I sigh happily.

“You’re such a good girl Y/n,” He coo’s and I gasp at his words.

“I knew you liked praise, You’re doing so well on just my thumb alone, aren’t you?” He asks and I nod.

“Are you ready for my fingers?” He asks sweetly.

“Yes, rutxe,” I beg. He slides one in and I sigh happily as he pumps it in, filling me up.

“Look at you enjoying my hands, hmm.” He’s enjoying this as much as I was.

“Do you think you could finish quick?” He asks in a steady voice, but his ears were flickering. “I think the girls are done swimming.” He explains and my eyes widen.

“Don’t worry they’re still on the beach, but they won’t take l long to come here.”

It had taken me until now to realize he hadn’t stopped pumping his finger in me and I whine. He’s changed the angle of his fingers until I let out a low moan and he smiles happily to himself. He slides a second finger in and continues to abuse that spot.

“Rotxo, don’t stop!” I whisper yell at him as he continues to pump his fingers in.

“I don’t plan to, sweet girl, but I need you to come soon.” He smirks above me and I moan a little louder without meaning to.

“You’re taking my fingers well, little one. But I’m going to help you out,” He uses his other hand to rub my clit as he continues to pump his fingers.

“Oh fuck~” I whine, somehow managing to meet the thrusts of his fingers with my hips.

“Thats it sweet girl, come for me, come on my fingers.” He coo’s again and I’m a mess, but I come on his fingers, gripping them like a vice as he coaxes my orgasm out so sweetly. His fingers don’t stop until I’m spent, he brings them out of me and tastes them rather quickly, before fighting to place his loincloth on, I hazily stare at him as he does this and he rushes to put mine on. As soon as he sits me up and his hands come away from my waist is when I hear the footsteps coming on the walkway.

“-and thats how you make the first couple squares.” He states randomly and I look into his hand and see what we made of the net.

“Rotxo is teaching you instead!” Tuk exclaims as her face comes into view and I make an apologetic face.

“Sorry Tuk, he offered and I thought it would be nice to let you swim with your friends instead of bugging you,” I stand and my cum is spreading on my inner thighs

“Come on, I’m sure they have to get ready for tonight too,” Rotxo gathers his sisters and heads out. “We’ll see you guys later,” He smiles sweetly and waves.

“See you guys later!” Tuk happily yells after her friends.

“We’ll need to shower Tuk, lets grab our things.” I stated and she nods and grabs everything. Just as I turn I see Rotxo’s face peering over the entrance. I make a face and he waves me over with his hand, I walk over and he plants a kiss on my mouth.

“Thank you, Tiyawn, I’ll see you later to finish what we started.” He kisses me again and follows behind his sisters once more.

Finish what we started? But we already finished… I thought to myself but shook the thought out of my head and headed out with Tuk.

_________

The party started off with ritualistic singing, dancing, and a speech about what they were celebrating. It was nice to understand their rituals, some of the holidays the Omaticaya had were similar, but this one wasn’t. They’re partying to celebrate the warriors and tulkun that died during the humans attacks.

I sat back and observed everyone else dance and sing. Their songs consisted of mighty warriors who died in battle and thanking Eywa for allowing them to have someone so strong during that time. One song in particular had me in my feelings about the life cycle of the tulkun and becoming spirit brothers or sisters with the Metkayina being some kind of rite of passage for the children of the tulkun. I knew as Ronal sang it and her people join she couldn’t help the tears welling up in her eyes, but she smiled as she sang it, she really loved her.

“Why aren’t you joining the party?” I turn to see none other than Rotxo sit next to me.

“I don’t dance,” I stated simply.

“But you do dance,” He whispers in my ear and my face heats up at his comment.

“Come,” He stands, holding his hand out for me to grab, so I take it. He rushes off toward the wooded area on the island and walks further in.

“Where are we going?” I asked and he finally stops.

“To finish our dance from earlier today,” He teases and places his hands on my hips again, leaning down to capture my lips in his.

“Bit we did finish,” I stated confused.

“Yes, but not how I wanted,” He kisses down my neck and I could feel the tingles of my stomach start making their way down toward my clit.

“H-how did you w-want to f-inish,” I stutter as he sucks on my pulse point.

“Inside you,” He mutters and kneels down but picks me up as he kisses down my chest.

“Rotxo~” I moaned as he takes his time kissing down my chest.

“Yes?” He asks cockily and smirks. He sneaks a hand under my shirt and fondles my breast, making sure to gently roll my nipple between his fingers. I suck in a breath and involuntarily grind my cunt in his growing cock.

“Please, I need you,” I pant at the sensation and can’t bring myself to stop repeating it, his hands shift down to my hips and keeps moving me along him.

“You’re such a good girl Y/n, already so needy for me,” He asks and I moan in response, he thrusts back with his own hips and I let out a high pitched moan.

“Why don’t you use your words for me, hmm?” He’s tilting my chin so I look at him but I could tell my eyes were half lidded and it was hard to think coherently.

“Inside me, inside.” I repeat while focusing on his cock rubbing on my clit through our clothes. The friction of the soft loincloth over my clit was starting to become dull and unsatisfactory, my breath coming out labored.

“Thats all you had to say sweet girl.” Rotxo stops his ministrations and unties my loincloth with a flick of his fingers and unties his own. I’ve never been happier to see his thick cock again.

“I have to use my fingers so this doesn’t hurt, okay?” He asks and I nod my head. “Good girl, now lay down.” He instructs and I do so, making sure to lay on the soft grass underneath me.

“I’m going to worship you with my tongue, be as loud as you want to be, nobody will interrupt us here.” He states before placing his face down between my legs and oh my Eywa I could feel his tongue prodding around before concentrating on my clit and my body had a mind of its own as I felt my legs spreading on their own.

He gently caresses my sensitive thighs and I’m a mess, so much so I barely registered him inserting his finger while eating me out. He sloppily thrusts in as I beg him to insert the second one and he does. He pumps his fingers at the same angle as he did in the marui and I’m a whaling mess. Not forming any words just sounds.

“Yeah I like those sweet sounds you make for me.” Rotxo states while slipping his fingers out. I was close to an orgasm and wanted to look at him angrily but couldn’t contort my face to show him my emotions.

“I know, sweet girl, but I can fuck you dumb with my cock now.” He states and settles himself between my thighs. “The hardest part is starting, but it should feel better after, let me know if it’s too much for you and I’ll stop okay?” He asks and I nod my head. He pinches my thigh and it takes me out of my trance.

“I need you to let me know, princess, yes?” He asks and I nod again.

“Yes, sir.” I responded and he kisses my forehead after I verbally answered him.

He rubs the head of his cock in my slick and over my clit and I gasp at the feeling, its so warm, and huge. I can feel him stretching out my entrance with his cock and I whine at the feeling. It fucking hurts, but I don’t want him to stop, although I’m sure he could tell by the way I squeezed my legs on his sides.

“I know princess, I’m sorry, lemme help a bit.” He gently caresses my clit with his thumb, making sure to stop trying to thrust inward anymore, but refusing to pull out as well. I could feel the tingling return as he started rubbing my clit faster.

“Rotxo, faster, please-“ I pant as he continues rubbing my clit faster and I could feel the stretch commence again. It didn’t hurt as bad but the feeling of my fast approaching orgasm was stunted again.

“You’re so hot inside, makes me wonder how else I can take you,” Rotxo grunts while continuously rubbing my clit. “The hard part is over sweet girl.” He states and slides in a little faster than he had been earlier.

It doesn’t take long to feel his thighs on my ass as he fills me with his cock. And the sting of his head stretching me as he pulls out starts my orgasm timer over again. I was beginning to grow frustrated but knew it was impossible to form any words as long as he was rubbing my clit raw. But it didn’t take long for the pleasure to course through my body one he deliciously dragged his cock in the right way.

“Faster, please,” I begged and my eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure and he started thrusting faster in the same direction.

He was going at an incredibly fast pace, the feeling of his thumb on my clit was long gone as he wrapped his body around mine, not once faltering in his thrusts.

“Fuck! Ahh!” I yell and he’s grumbling praises in my neck, but hearing him talk how he was at this moment was the biggest turn on.

“I can feel you squeezing my cock like the dirty girl you are. So filthy, Yawne.” He groans and thrusts harder into me, making my walls crumble as I scream his name.

“Thats it baby, this pussy is mine.” He grunts.

“I’m gonna come~”

“Such a good girl Y/n,” He continues thrusting at the same pace. I can feel my walls flutter but not yet releasing my orgasm.

“Waiting for me, love?” He asks and I nod.

“Yes sir,” I subconsciously answer.

“Come with me,” He thrusts one more time and thats what tips me over the edge. My eyes had been closed for a long time but the white behind them was euphoric, it woke me up, yet made me drowsy at the same time.

“This’ll hurt a bit, my love, I’m sorry.” Rotxo says and starts to pull out but with the angle he was doing it in, I unexpectedly have my second orgasm, it ripples through my body as he slowly pulls out and I’m left contracting around nothing.

“I guess not,” He chuckles to himself while pushing my hair out of my face and my eyes flutter open, but they feel heavy.

“How was that?” He asks and kisses me gently. Lifting my body carefully to lay it on top of his.

“Incredible.”

“Now do you believe Kiri when she said I didn’t like her?” My face is red as a blush takes over. It doesn't take a genius to remember how well Na’Vi ears work, and although I said that comment within an earshot of Spider I forgot to account Rotxo.

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Shooting for gold and falling flat on your face or How I failed miserably at writing ranged combat.

Not every mechanic is a winner, and designing a ttrpg is hard. First drafts, playtesting, modification, second draft, playtesting, modification. So far all of the systems I've written, while they absolutely needed extensive work, had solid cores. Sometimes, though, like when I wrote Ranged Combat last week, the base it's built upon is faulty and the whole thing needs to be gutted and scrapped for anything salvageable.

After playtesting and modifying melee combat, its core seemed solid and I decided to move on to ranged combat. One of the core principles involves not missing, or missing being rare. This is why when someone comes at you with a melee weapon, you can dodge or block to mitigate some or all of the damage. Armor, while not yet written, will also play an important roll in damage mitigation.

Ranged combat as I wrote it does allow missing, but missing is rare (or so I thought) particularly at close ranges. It didn't make sense to me to be able to dodge projectiles or block them with a weapon, and I haven't written a cover system or put in shields which would be able to block projectiles, so the only real thing that mitigates getting hit by a ranged weapon is armor. This was a mistake.

Before we get into all of that though, let me get into the core of how I wrote the mechanic and how that was bad. I decided that because ranged damage was hard to mitigate, it should have a chance to miss, which means an attack roll to see if you hit. For some reason, I decided that the player should roll a d100 so the Hit Chance (the number you try to roll at or under when rolling the d100) would align with a percentage. In theory, this works, especially since I tied it to the Dexterity attribute on the character sheet. In practice, the very first playtest I ran with these mechanics saw characters with long guns and an 80% chance to hit miss most of the time, and a single Xente character (large amoeba thing - it will get its own species highlight later) nailed two player characters one after the other on one turn with a roughly 18% chance to hit with its revolver due to the distance. My players have dubbed this particular Xente Big Boss after the metal gear character, and it will be making a re-appearance.

The clear issue here, of course, is that rolling a d100 gives you as much a chance to roll a 1 as it does a 100, and even if you play with percentages like I did, weird stuff is going to happen at some point. Perhaps even often within the span of a session. There were other issues with this ranged system as well, one of my players said it felt like it came from a completely different game compared to how melee combat feels. Another player astutely pointed out that a class of weapons that can one-tap most characters with little effort and no real choice for the player to be able to get out of the way or otherwise mechanically try to save themselves, feels bad.

I got some good feedback, and I'm still trying to figure out how to move forward with the ranged mechanics. I have some ideas that will bring it more in-line with melee mechanics but I have to see how it hashes out, and then playtest that. All-in-all, this is a good experience. Not every mechanic is a winner, but failure is incredibly important.

If you read all this, thanks! I appreciate it very much. I'm trying to figure out what to do for the next blog post, it's a toss-up between another species highlight (humans - I promise it will be interesting) or how alchemy (magic) works in detail. This would be the history of alchemy as a field of study, animals that have evolved to use it, and what players will be able to do with it.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Christmas Magic

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder

Summary: When you and your partner Holder are forced to go out of town Christmas Eve for a case, you try to find a way to reveal to him your feelings. But when one thing after another goes wrong, can either one of you salvage things?

Word Count: 4458

TW: Fluff, Series of Unfortunate Events, Smoking, Love Confession

As soon as you climbed into the passenger seat of your car, you leaned the seat back as far as it would go and tried to find a semi-comfortable position so you could catch up on some sleep. After staying up all night trying to get the paperwork in order for this case, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have let Holder anywhere near the driver’s seat of your new car, but when he offered to drive and you realized you were so tired you were seeing two of him, you reluctantly handed over the keys. It was going to be a long drive, and it was probably better if you didn’t drive into a ditch within the first ten miles.

But after only about fifteen minutes, just as he had turned onto the highway and you had begun to drift off, Holder began patting down his jacket and feeling around in his pockets. The car began slightly swerving as he shifted his focus off the road. “Ah, shit.”

“What?” You groggily mumbled, biting your tongue against commenting on his driving.

He held up his nearly empty pack of cigarettes. “I thought I had another few packs. But I must a left ‘em on my desk. This is my last one and we don’t got time to stop for more.”

Without a word, you reached into the glove box, pulled out an unopened pack of his brand and tossed it into his lap. He stared down at it for a moment before looking back at you in surprise. “Damn, girl. Why you got these? You don’t smoke.”

“No, but you do. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you for more than five minutes without one in your hand. And, no offense Holder, but you’re not always the most mindful about stuff like this. I figured sooner or later, you’d run out and I wanted to be prepared.”

A wide smile spread across his face. “Yo! That’s pretty dope. But one pack ain’t gonna last all night.”

You smiled and held up a finger, signaling him to wait. Reaching under your seat, you pulled out two more identical packs. Holder shook his head and laughed. “Oh snap. I gotta say, I wasn’t expectin’ that.”

“Oh, come on, Holder. When’s the last time I let you down?”

He looked you dead in the eye and with a straight face answered, “Never.”

You felt your face grow warm under his gaze and quickly turned away, pretending to look out the window. But instead, you admired his reflection in the glass. He kept looking at you for a few more seconds before shifting his eyes back to the road.

You still couldn’t believe that you had fallen for your lanky, laughable, loser of a partner. The man who claimed pork rinds didn’t count as meat because they were junk food. The man who you had never once seen out of a baggy hoodie and jacket. The man who constantly smelled like smoke and cheap body spray. Yet, here you were, daydreaming about the feeling of his lips against your, one hand running through his messy hair while the other pulled at the gold chain he always had hanging from his neck. Oh you have it bad for this guy.

When you had first met Holder over a year ago, you hadn’t thought much of him as a person let alone as a detective. However, as time went on and you got to know him better, he somehow had managed to worm his way into your heart. And now, he was all you thought about. But after six months of him not showing the slightest acknowledgment to any of your subtle advances, you had almost given up hope of ever having him look at you the same way. But maybe this case would give you one last attempt to garner his attention.

The murder investigation the two of you had been working on for the past three weeks had finally uncovered to a lead to the whereabouts of your top suspect. An anonymous tip had come in that Dominick Russo, a local lowlife who had been sleeping with your victim, was supposed to be at a party on the other side of the state tonight. It was the first time there had been any clues to his location since the night of the murder. So, even though it was Christmas Eve, it had been decided that the two of you needed to go try and track him down. Which meant hours alone in the car with Holder as well as an overnight stay in a hotel together. It was the perfect opportunity to try and show him that you wanted to be more than his partner on the job.

But right now, all you needed was some sleep. You reached out and turned on the radio. “Let It Snow” began ringing from the speakers and you smiled, settled back into your seat, and closed your eyes. However, seconds later, the car went silent once again. Cracking your eye open, you saw the radio was now off. You clicked the button, and the radio came to life once more. That is until, Holder reached over and clicked it off again.

You stared at him incredulously. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t like music while I drive. I need ta focus.”

“Come on, Holder. Please!” You whined. “It’s Christmas Eve! I’m already having to DVR all my favorite holiday movies I’m going to be missing, at least let me listen to some Christmas music while I try to go to sleep!”

“Nah, not gonna happen. Besides, it’s just the same few songs played over and over again. We ain’t doing that shit.”

“Hey! It’s my car, so I control the radio.”

“Hey,” he mocked playfully. “I’m driving, so I control the radio.”

You huffed loudly as you slumped back into the seat. Holder glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes before asking, “Whatup witchu and Christmas anyway? Why make such a big deal out of it? Especially those shitty Hallmark movies you always goin’ on about.”

You turn back to him in surprise. “Are you kidding me? Who doesn’t like Christmas? The lights, the decorations, the tree, the presents? It’s all so magical and exciting! Plus, it is a nice break from the monotony of every other day. Also, I love the whole atmosphere and aesthetic, you know? Warm fires and hot cocoa while you listen to holiday music, snuggled on the couch with someone special, both of you tucked under a blanket.”

“You use a blanket in front of a fire? While drinkin’ a hot beverage? Damn girl! How cold is your place?” Holder chucked amused at the picture you had just painted.

“I said it was an aesthetic, not what I actually do! I mean, it’s not like I actually have a fireplace or anyone to snuggle with!” Your cheeks burned as the words tumbled out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant to make yourself sound as pathetic as you just had. Holder talked a lot about all of his hook ups and latest conquests, but when he would ask you about your love life, you always played it off as just being a private person. Now, you had basically just admitted you didn’t talk about your love life because you didn’t have one. And yes, your plan on this trip was to try and get him to fall for you, but this didn’t seem like the best way to kick things off. Yet, when you quickly glanced over at him, he didn’t seem to have reacted to your outburst at all.

Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore your previous statement and continued. “Um, yeah, and as for the movies….my mom was sick a lot when I was a kid. She was a single mom and tried her best, but she would randomly get these horrible fevers and weakness that would leave her bedridden for days. It always got especially bad in the winter. So, whenever she would get like that, I would climb into bed with her, and we would binge Hallmark Christmas movies. I know they’re stupid, but they remind me of her, so I love ‘em. Everything always works out at the end, the girl and the guy end up together, and everyone lives happily ever after. And yes, the tropes and cliches are heavy-handed, but that’s what makes them great! You know what’s going to happen as soon as the characters discover they are locked in a room together or there’s a case of mistaken identity, but the way it’s executed is the exciting part.”

Holder just shook his head. “I still don’t get it, but if that’s what you like, you do you…… I’m sorry ‘bout your moms. How is she?”

You stared out the window once again. “Gone. Since I was 15. They never did figure out what was wrong with her but… just one time she got sick and she never got better.”

Holder shifted in his seat. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but you could still feel the tears tickling the corner of your eyes.

Holder seemed to notice, because of course he did. “That don’t make it easier.”

“No…. it really doesn’t.”

This day was going from bad to worse. First, when you woke up from your much needed nap, Holder informed you that your new orders were to infiltrate this party undercover as husband and wife. You couldn’t believe your luck as you pondered all the possibilities that this would give you to make a move on your partner. However, after less than a minute of walking into the party, the two of you were mistaken for Russo’s cousins. So, instead of playing it up as a lovey-dovey couple, you and Holder were left pretending to be sister and brother. Just to make things worse, it turned out Russo had an air-tight alibi for the night of the murder, so that meant the entire trip had been for nothing.

And then, as Holder was driving you back, he mentioned he found a place to stay for the night that looked cheap yet clean. It was located in a small town just off the highway, and that had immediately piqued your curiosity. Small towns at Christmas were the best! They always went all out and had festivals and decorations and lights! Plus, all of your favorite romantic Christmas movies were set in small towns!

Yet, all of your hopes were crushed as Holder drove through the center of town. There was no hint of the holidays anywhere. No decorations, no lights, not even a tree. The only suggestion of the season you saw was a single faded sign next to the post office which had a sad looking snowman and the words “Happy Holidays” painted on it. That was it. All in all, it felt more like they were about to celebrate Tax Day than Christmas.

Then, when you finally made it to the sleazy looking motel at the edge of town, you were informed there was only one room left available, which meant you and Holder had to share. So maybe things were looking up after all. A small establishment like this wouldn’t have lavish rooms, and more than likely….there would be only one bed. Your heart fluttered at the idea. It might be one of the oldest, most cliched tropes in cheesy romance, but it was one that always excited you. And the thought of sharing a bed with Holder…

But, once again, nothing turned out the way you wanted. As Holder had pushed the door open to your room, you were greeted by the sights of not just two large beds, but also a fold-out couch. What kind of shitty roadside motel has rooms with fold-out couches! So, you had each placed your things on your respective beds and you went to take a shower.

And this was where you were now, thinking about the complete mess of a day it had been as you stepped out of the small tub and dried off your damp body as quickly as possible before the steam left and the chill returned to the air. You eyed your sleep clothes loathingly as they lay in a heap on the counter. You had never expected to be sharing a room with Holder so you had only packed your baggiest, shabbiest pajamas (honestly it was just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of small shorts). It was definitely not what you imagined you would be wearing the first time Holder saw you in your bedtime attire.

Once you were dressed and toweling off your hair, all the lights flickered and went out. With a loud sigh, you called out to your partner. “Holder!....Holder, do you know why the lights just went out?” You exited the bathroom, but your partner was nowhere in the darkness of the room. “Holder?”

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and Holder hurried in, shaking the snow from his hair and shoulders. The light from outside illuminated the room and Holder paused as he noticed you standing there, arms wrapped around yourself against the cold he was letting in. He quickly closed the door, once again plunging the pair of you into darkness.

You heard him fumbling towards you before his voice sounded next to your shoulder, “Yo, what up with the lights? They was on when I left for a smoke.”

“I have no idea. I got out of the shower and everything turned off.” You shivered slightly as the heat began leaking from the room. “I guess this means the heater’s off too.”

“You cold, mama?” You felt a rustling beside you and then a ball of fabric was placed in your hands. It took you a moment, but you soon realized what it was.

“Is this your hoodie? Damn, Holder, I didn’t know you ever took it off. I was starting to think it was just fused to your skin. Like seriously, when was the last time you washed it?”

“Oh, ha ha. Well, if you ain’t gonna use it-”

“No,” you quickly snatched it back as he tried taking it from you. “Thank you, Holder. I really appreciate it.” You slipped the large sweatshirt over your head and it fell to the middle of your thighs, just past the edge of your shorts.

You felt him take a step closer to you, until you were almost touching. Softly, he murmured, “You know, if you’re still cold, I could-”

Both of you blinked sharply as all of the light abruptly came back on and you heard the heater churn back to life. You looked up at Holder towering over you, only a few inches between your bodies. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in his physique without the hoodie for the first time. His tattooed arms were toned and muscular in ways you hadn’t expected. And his torso…under his tight t-shirt you could see the curves of his well-developed, lean frame. The baggie hoodie had been hiding how fit your partner really was.

Breathlessly and still gaping at his chest, you asked, “You were saying?”

“Yeah, well, I guess it don’t matter anymore.” He turned abruptly, stalked into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving you staring after him, confused and a little hurt.

When the door finally opened again 45 minutes later, Holder nervously stuck his head out. “I-uh...maybe don’t look.”

You sat up from where you had been laying on your bed, checking your emails on your phone. “What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t…I didn’t know we was sharing a room. I don’t really have any..” He stepped timidly into the main room. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers. “Um, this okay?”

You stared intensely at his face, using every ounce of willpower not to gawk at his bare chest or let your eyes travel a little farther south. “Yeah, Holder, it’s fine. Do you want your hoodie back?”

“Nah, you keep it. Looks much better on you then it ever did on me anyways.”

Heat bloomed across your face as you snuggled deeper into the warm sweatshirt. It smelled so much like him it almost felt like you were wrapped in his embrace. You averted your eyes as he padded across the room to the window. Leaning against the wall, he pulled the last cigarette out of his pack and lit it up.

“Is that your last one?” you asked.

“Nah, I still got one more of the packs that you gave me. You’re a real lifesaver. Wouldn’t ‘ave made it through today without ‘em.” He took a long drag off it before releasing a large cloud of smoke from his lips. There was just something about the way Holder smoked that made butterflies dance in your stomach. The way his hands caressed the cigarette between his fingers, the way the end flared with each rise of his chest, the way the smoke danced between his lips before encircling his head. Before Holder, you had always hated watching people smoke, but he had it down to an artform.

He pushed the curtain aside just enough to glimpse outside. “Snows gettin’ heavier. If it get too bad tonight, we might be stuck here a few days. So, fingers crossed.” He ground what was left of his cigarette into the windowsill and walked over to his bed, flopping clumsily onto the covers.

You rolled over and gazed at his long frame, biting your lip to keep a wistful sigh from escaping. Instead, you murmured, “’Night, Holder.”

“’Night, Y/N.”

You continued staring at him until your eyelids began drooping and you felt sleep overtaking you. And as you drifted off, you let yourself think about the possibilities of the morning. Maybe we’ll get snowed in tonight. Maybe we’ll have to stay here for a day or two. Maybe, just maybe, something… will….. finally work…. out…….

As sunlight slowly danced across your face through a crack in the curtains, you slowly blinked awake. It took you a few seconds to remember where you were and what you were wearing. But as soon as you did, you jumped out of bed and rushed over to the window. Taking a deep breath, you threw open the curtains and your heart plummeted as you took in the landscape outside. As the sun had risen, it had melted most of the snow from the night before. All that was left was a few sad muddy piles of slush.

Just as you mentally let out a string of expletives, you felt Holder walk up behind you to look outside. You couldn’t help but notice he was still just in his boxers. He quietly cursed to himself, “Damn! What the hell’s a guy gotta do to catch a break?”

You turned to face him, confused. “What do you mean? All the snow is gone. We can leave whenever.”

Holder blushed slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…so..uh, I know how much you love those shi- I mean, sappy movies an’ I know what they mean to you ‘cause of your moms. So, I’ve been trying to make things seem like one of those movies.”

You still weren’t grasping what he was trying to tell you. “Wait, what do you mean? How could you do that?”

He sighed and padded over to where his jeans still laid crumpled on the floor. Digging around in the pocket, he pulled out a wadded-up piece of paper. As he walked back to your side, he tried straightening out the slip as much as possible. His eyes were glued to the floor as he thrust the paper into your hands. Glancing down, you recognized Holder’s chicken-scratch handwriting and somehow managed to make out the words:

fake date – husb/wife

sm town – nice xmas decs, all movies in sm town

xmas magic – find extra xmasy spot

only one room – call to rent out other rooms/ only have 1 bed

huddle 4 heat – cut power?

snowed in – luck?

You looked back at your partner, more confused than ever. “What the hell is this, Holder?”

“While you was asleep in the car, I looked up a bunch of those things they do in those movies. I tried to get ‘em to work for us but every single goddamn one failed. I’m the one who suggested we went undercover, but not as brother and sister. I tried finding us a cute small town ta stay in, but it’s apparently the only one in the entire fucking country that don’t do Christmas. Then, I called ahead an’ rented out all but one room. Never thought it’d leave us with this huge place. I was tryin’ for only one bed so…you know. And…I sort a cut the powerline last night so the heat would go off and we would have ta snuggle for heat. But who figures a shithole like this would be able to fix it so quickly?” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “Gettin’ snowed in was my last chance. But it seems even Mother Nature ain’t gonna cooperate.”

You glanced back at the list then back to Holder. “Wait, you cut the powerlines?” He shrugged slightly. “Okay… all of that’s actually really sweet…but I don’t really understand the point… What was your end goal here?”

He shuffled his feet, still looking at the floor. “I wanted you to feel special. Like you was the girl in those movies. The ones where everything always works out, the girl and the guy ends up together, and they live happily ever after……You know what I’m sayin’?”

Everything finally clicked and you stared at him in disbelief. “Holder, are you saying you like me? Like in a romantic, want to take me out on a date kind of way?”

He muttered something too muffled for you to understand. “What?”

“Damn, girl! Yes! Okay, yes. I liked you from the start, but I figured you wouldn’t like someone like me.” He turned so you were now looking at his back. “I know I’m a screw up an’ an addict an’ I don’t have anythin’ to offer you, but I just thought, maybe, if you saw me like one of those guys, you might give me a chance.”

You felt your heart simultaneously swell with joy and shatter in sadness. Holder liked you back! You weren’t the only one who had feelings for the other! But at the same time, how could he think that was all you saw him as? How did he not see the amazing person you had come to care so deeply for?

Walking around so you were now standing in front of him, you saw Holder’s eyes screwed shut as he tried to block out everything around him. Gently, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands. He slowly eased his eyes open and searched your face, looking for any indication of how you were feeling.

You smiled softly as you said, “Holder, I can’t say I liked you from the start. I was an idiot and when we first met, I did judge you and I am so extremely sorry if I ever made you feel those things about yourself. Because that is not the man I see before me. That is not the man who I have come to know. And that is not the man who I have wanted, who I have dreamed of calling mine for months.”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “What?”

“I like you too. Like in a romantic, want you to take me out on a date kind of way. You know what I’m sayin’?” You playfully nudged his nose with yours.

His eyes grew wide before a smile spread across his face. “Yo, are you serious?”

“Very. I just never thought you would see me...like that…”

“How could I not? You’re the best, smartest person I’ve ever met. And you’re fine as hell, girl!”

You laughed before growing more serious. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you tried to do for me. But there’s one big thing you left off your list. The thing that every movie ends with.”

“And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

As he tilted his head down, you tilted yours up to meet him. But just seconds before your lips touched, something caught your eye. You placed one hand on Holder’s chest, causing him to pause.

“Um, Holder, I didn’t see anything about mistletoe on your list, correct?”

He shook his head, confused. “No, I didn’t have any idea where to get some, so I didn’t try. Why?”

You just point up to the ceiling. Both of you tip your heads back to stare in wonder at the small plant now dangling above your heads.

Holder’s face scrunched in bewilderment. “How the fuck did that get there?”

“So, it’s not just me? That definitely wasn’t there last night?”

“Hell no. I stared at that spot most of the night while I listened to you breathin’.” He turned to you, suddenly embarrassed. “Shit, I didn’t mean anything weird by that. It was just har– difficult! It was difficult to know you was right there and I couldn’t… that I wanted…”

You patted his chest reassuringly with a grin. “It’s okay, Holder. I know what you mean. I felt the same way.”

He relaxed slightly under your touch, but then you both remembered the reason for your concern in the first place. Looking back at the ceiling, you both realized there is still no explanation for the mistletoe hanging there.

Finally, you said, “There are a few ways that might have gotten up there that I don’t really want to think about…So, let's just chalk it up to your Christmas magic from the list.”

Holder smiled down at you, holding his arms out wide, “Hey, everything makes sense, it just depends on how you perceive it. So, if we perceive this as Christmas magic, that’s what it is.”

You shook your head softly but gave him a wide smile. “Thank you again for everything you did for me, Holder. Thank you for making this, us, possible.”

He gently placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head towards him. “Anythin’ for you, mamacita. Anythin’ at all.” And as he pressed his lips against yours for the first time, you really did believe in Christmas magic.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[unfoundhoney]

toe the line ; part two ↠

↠ slimecicle x fem!reader , platonic!jschlatt x fem!reader ; angst , fluff in future chapters

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ; part four

↠ @ochabby @nottheotheruser @d0vesatdawn @ashturnedtomist @bloopi @enderhoe @plaguenecromancer

Your clothes are damp and heavy in your hands as you move them from washer to dryer. It’s quiet in the apartment. The silence has been amplified for the last few days, an effect that carries through to now, as you switch your laundry. You’re bent at the waist, feet nearly off the ground as you reach down into the the washer to get the few remaining socks at the bottom of the basin.

You see movement in the doorway and turn your head to check what it is. You find Charlie stood in the doorway to the laundry/storage room looking not unlike a deer in headlights as you lock eyes with him.

You’re quick to look away. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he returns slowly. “Um, sorry, didn’t know you were using the washer.”

“I’m not.”

You pull yourself out of the washer and toss your last few socks into the dryer.

“Anymore,” you add.

As you set and start the dryer, Charlie remains hovering in the doorway as far away from you as possible. He steps out of your way as you leave the room.

“All yours,” you say.

“Thanks,” he calls after you.

You return to your room.

This is how it’s been ever since “the incident” on Friday, four days ago. The fairly spacious apartment you used to love sharing with Charlie now suddenly feels tiny, pushing you into closer vicinity of Charlie than you want to be right now.

You know you should probably talk about what happened, what was revealed, but there’s a part of you that’s still mad at him. There’s another, much bigger part that’s scared that if you acknowledge it again, you’ll never be able to move on from it. That if you actually talk it out like adults, if you tell him any more about how you feel and have felt for him than he already knows, you’ll lose him forever.

But despite your ultimate fear right now being making another wrong move and losing your best friend, the apartment is still suffocating. You text a friend, pack a bag, and tell Charlie you’re spending the night somewhere else.

You’re curled up in the corner of the couch, hugging an empty beer bottle. There are several other bottles in the same state as the one in your hands, a few others on various surfaces near where your drinking partner and host is sat on the ground. Schlatt looks over at you and your vacant expression, watching you for a moment as you stare blankly at the rug ahead of you.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

He’s asked you that multiple times since you arrived at his house a few days ago. You’ve only gone back to the apartment when you absolutely need to and if you’re able, you avoid Charlie entirely during said visits. It’s pitiful, really, the lengths you’re going to to avoid speaking to him.

“It’s weird how much you can miss someone who you haven’t even lost yet,” you answer.

“So, no.”

“No.”

“Alright, well, have you considered the fact that you’re hiding from him and pushing him away?”

“He pushed me away first,” you counter. “It was insufferable trying to live in the same space after what he read. It’s worse than a rejected confession; those were my thoughts, translated and poetic on paper and never supposed to be seen by anyone else. That’s where all the embarrassing emotional stuff I’d never say out loud goes and now everyone has heard it.”

“If I’m not making fun of you for it, no one else will either,” Schlatt tells you. “Yes, it’s cheesy and grossly romantic but it’s not something your friends will make fun of you about.”

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really care what anyone else thinks,” you say.

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right, I do care, but I care infinitely more about losing my best friend.”

“You haven’t lost him.”

“I’m in the process of losing him. Neither of us knows how to function after my involuntary confession. Like, you can’t just move past that, especially since I didn’t get the opportunity to ease into a gentle ‘I like you’ and just came right out the gate with ‘I long for him with every fiber of my being.’ Think about being in his shoes and hearing your platonic best friend say something like that about you; how do you respond to that?”

Schlatt takes a deep breath, “I don’t know.”

“It sucks,” you say. “It sucks so hard.”

You set your empty bottle on the end table beside the other two you’ve had.

“You want another?”

“No.” You lie down on the couch. “I’m already sad, getting more drunk will only make me more sad.”

“Has he tried to talk to you? Or is ignoring the massive fucking elephant in the room a mutual, silent agreement?”

“The second one.”

“Did he say anything about you staying here?”

“I avoid him most times I got back for anything.”

“And when you haven’t?”

“Hey, you’re home,” Charlie said as you entered the apartment quietly.

Most days around this time, he’s in his office working. When you came, he was sat on the couch watching TV. Because it was Saturday, of course, stupid, stupid Y/N.

“Yeah,” you returned in what you hope was an unbothered tone. “Just gonna grab some clothes and stuff.”

“Oh okay.”

You think maybe just maybe there had been a dit of disappointment in his voice but that’s probably just hopeful thinking. You quickly stuffed your backpack with some things then went to head out again.

“Why have uh... why’ve you been gone so much?” Charlie asked.

You hesitated by the door. Why have you been gone? Why do you think, Charlie?

Instead, you say, “Because Schlatt’s an expensive bitch. His guest bed is better than my regular one.”

“... You’re staying at Schlatt’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, cool. See you around, then.”

“See you.”

“But that was a lie, obviously,” you say. “Your guest bed is nice but I just can’t handle how suffocating it is to be in the same space as him and not be able to have things the way they were. I just- I miss being able to joke and laugh with him and how we’d eat breakfast together and our movie nights."

"Ignoring him won't make your feelings go away."

"It might."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever."

You pick apart the details in the ceiling fan above you. You know he's right. You've spent so long ignoring your problems. Sure, hiding it all from Charlie seemed like the right move, but maybe if you'd been able to confess on your own terms, drop subtle hints and work into a noncommittal "I like you" then maybe- maybe you'd be able to salvage your friendship. But now...

"I miss him," you murmur through tears.

You aren't even sure when you started crying. Mama always said to never cry over a boy. Yet here you are. You like to think Charlie is a bit more than "just a boy"; he's your best friend, one of the most important people in your life. Somehow, that doesn't soften the blow or make you seem less pitiful.

Schlatt definitely knows you're crying at this point. His non-acknowledgement of it is appreciated.

You know you'll have to face Charlie eventually, but for now you sniff and ask, "Do you have anything stronger than beer?"

[masterwords]

not the knives

A/N: This little chunk of madness was written because @toli-a challenged me to write something for a prompt. It's totally intended to be "heist" related but because I live inside the brain I do...it is not. I had a few heist/undercover related ideas and none of them came together...and then this appeared to me. It is lighthearted and I think in the spirit of the prompt regardless. (Prompt(s): “I think that went wrong in every way it could’ve.” and “I mean, it could’ve been worse.”)

Warnings: Derek drinks some beer. I don't know.

1.4k words of pure domestic homeowner...stuff.

**

“Derek,” Hotch says quietly, nudging him with one bony elbow. Derek ignores him. “Derek...buy a candy bar or chapstick. Something other than this." He indicates the knives, the hammer and massive box of contractor bags like it's damning evidence of misbehavior. "It looks a little...”

“I don't want a candy bar.”

He wants to get back to the house to finish their project. That's all he wants. It's 2am and Walmart is always a nightmare but at this time of night it's particularly awful. “What about chapstick?”

He glares at Hotch who shrugs and tosses a pack of gum and a tube of waxy cherry chapstick on the belt, tired of waiting. Derek's turn to make the noise of disapproval. Hotch yawns while he pays and Derek throws the hammer and the box of bags under one arm, holds the box of steak knives with his free hand. Sean would have a fit if he knew they were buying kitchen knives from Walmart but considering that they would need them the following day and all of their previous set was wrapped tight in newspaper and sitting in the trash on the curb...beggars can't be choosers. The cashier hands Hotch the chapstick and gum, just drops them into his palm with a funny little look.

“Thank you,” Hotch says, reaching into his pocket for the car keys.

The house is in one piece, for the most part, or at least in as many pieces as they left it. Hotch's stomach twists in knots as he pulls into the driveway. He knows what awaits them inside.

“I'm sorry,” he offers quietly while they sit in the car and stare at the house, knowing what awaits them. Knowing that inside there's a kitchen in shambles. This isn't his first apology and they both know it won't be his last.

“It's not your fault.” Derek had said it over and over, but that isn't exactly true. It is his fault. He woke up feeling under the weather, riding the storm of a migraine until he couldn't keep it up any longer. Until the vertigo started kicking his ass while he washed dishes. He needed a nap; it would be a simple fix. Pop a pill, sleep until it kicked in, salvage the evening. Asking Jack to load the dishwasher without any real instruction, assuming it would be the same as at their apartment only to have it flood the kitchen had been a sad start, but it was manageable. They were able to pull the dishwasher out and bust up some drywall that was damaged, replace it easily and put out a fan to dry the rest that was salvageable. All that was okay, kids are kids and he has no real way of knowing that the way he loaded big things on top would make the sprayer malfunction. Derek's dishwasher is older than the one he was used to, it was a little more finnicky. Live and learn. A quick tutorial from Derek would solve any future catastrophes.

But then they took a nap. Derek was tired, too, and it was the weekend. Jack was old enough to care for himself for a few hours, but they woke to the sound of frustrated tears and knew their troubles had multiplied. He found another spot of drywall that wasn't going to be saved, would need to be cut out and replaced...he'd watched Derek do it with his reciprocating saw and that looked so easy but he'd be in huge trouble if he used power tools without his parents nearby. So he pulled out the steak knives. The handles snapped quickly off of two, another bent, but he managed to remove the square and not cut himself. The steaks they had marinating for dinner the following night hollered at him from the fridge for his stupidity at leaving Jack to his own devices without...without what? Explaining that kitchen knives are not construction tools? Hotch doesn't even know what to say.

Jack cries and says he's sorry, even offers his entire piggy bank to pay for the knives and Derek tells him it's okay, he's just glad no one got hurt. That doesn't solve any of the problems but he's a good dad.

“I'm still sorry.”

In the kitchen, it's shockingly worse. Somehow. There seems to be more damage and it smells musty and damp. Derek has been talking so much about rot that Hotch thinks he smells it setting in. He doesn't, it's far too soon for that and they're already taking careful measures but now his anxiety is kicking in. Their tired eyes just can't register all the work they have left to do in order to take this wreckage and turn it back into a kitchen. They'll be eating out and barbecuing for a while. The industrial sized box fan is loud, rumbling and growling its way to drying the floor that's dangerously close to having enough water damage to rot if they're not careful.

Derek thinks he might have to rip some of it out and he's very very touchy about that subject. Original hardwood floors don't just grow on trees, he'd said once and it had been sort of a joke and it made Hotch smirk but he was still not fully joking. If he had to rip it up, he would never stop thinking about it. Hotch worried he might never really forgive Jack for this...or him, for that matter. They hadn't even been living here long, hadn't even fully committed to being a family for more than a few months and already they had destroyed Derek's kitchen. All the apologies and uttered I forgive you's and It's okays couldn't undo the damage.

By the time they're at a place they can stop for the night, the sun is starting to threaten her arrival and Hotch's eyes burn. His head is screaming pain that never really went away but it's a lot easier to ignore when everything falls apart around you. Derek has been hitting the beer again, because caffeine might make him explode. The beer is pale and foamy, not exactly ice cold anymore but it mellows him out until he's somewhere vaguely beneath the anger. Things happen, he thinks. Accidents happen. He isn't even mad at anyone, he's just...on edge. He loves projects, he hates emergencies. This falls square in the latter category.

"Tomorrow I'll show Jack how to patch the hole he cut," Derek offers quietly, pressing his forefinger into the gypsum and nudging a chunk loose. He's lost in thought, how this could be a learning opportunity and maybe he'll let Jack use a power tool to see the difference the right tool for the job makes. He can turn this into a learning experience and maybe then he won't walk into his kitchen and see disaster at the end. He'll see time spent teaching Jack a new skill. He really is trying to find the good in this.

“It's late,” Hotch says in hardly more than a whisper and Derek turns to look at him. He notices the bruise-colored skin beneath his eyes that exaggerates how otherworldly pale he is and he knows they need to stop or Hotch is going to collapse and then they'll be in the hospital with the way this day has gone. He already looks like he might be headed that way.

“A few more things,” Derek replies, against everything his body tells him to do. “Go get in the shower, clean up, I'll be right there.”

Hotch doesn't argue. He's been more or less useless this whole time, holding tools or finding them. It doesn't surprise him when he stumbles in the hallway and catches himself on the banister that goes upstairs to Jack's room. He's beat. Been awake for more than 24 hours at this point.

He rubs Derek's temples in bed, even though his are pulsing with his heartbeat. Thumbs pressing in small circles there first, and then dragged down the sides of his neck, squeezing the tension out of his shoulders. If he stops to consider how many times they were in the hardware store or Walmart that day he'll start laughing or crying, it's that bad.

“I think that went wrong in every way it could have,” Hotch says softly, kissing the warm back of Derek's neck. He's usually the little spoon but Derek is sulking, and he'd turned his back on Hotch, curling around his pillows instead. Derek lets out a sarcastic sounding laugh and sighs, melting against Hotch. “I mean, it could have been worse...” he mutters, and Hotch's eyes go all wide in the dark thinking about the ways that was true. Could still become true.

He falls asleep worrying about what they'll find in the morning.

[ahatintimepieces]

It Comes Down in Buckets

Before Luka and Hattie ended up in Subcon, they faced many challenges on the road as they adjusted to Luka’s curse. This is a lil gift for Mak, @doodledrawsthings, and their “””Coffeeshop au””” where Luka pushes himself a bit too hard while trying to make the day special for Hattie. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 7,678

The rolling waves tumbled against the velvet sand and the morning sunlight skipped across the foaming crests, painting them gold. Hattie’s grip tightened around the old bucket she had found as she inhaled the salty, fishy air. Standing at the patches of grass that separated the edge of the forest from the beach, she gazed out at the shore. Her sketchbook waited in her backpack, begging her to pull it out and to memorialize the look of the sea and snapshot the ebb and flow of surging waves, but she had work to do.

She had to find the prettiest seashells before anyone else so she could sell them for some extra cash. Every little bit helped.

Weaving down to the beach, the warming sand caught between her toes and kicked up with each flop and flip of her flipflops. She swung the dented bucket with rust stains as she hurried to the lapping tide. She stepped into the water and immediately squealed before jumping back from the cold. The foam receded, as if teasing her, and an impish grin spread across her features.

As the water crawled back up the shore, Hattie fixed her old baseball cap and then leapt into the ankle-deep wave. Her initial screech dissolved into laughter. Splashing around, her flipflops tossed clouds of murky dust up and the sloshing, icy water splattered against her leg. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose as she gazed out at the sliver of light where the sky paralleled the ocean. With the cascading crackles of the snapping sea rumbling around her, it was hard not to let her mind wander into daydreams.

She could picture it perfectly. A calm day at the beach. No time limits for her dad, no worrying about money, and he could finally rest. He could finally be happy again. And she could play in the surf and chase crabs, pretend to be a pirate finding buried treasure, or draw and paint next to her dad as he napped. She could picture it so perfectly.

But she glanced down at the bucket as it bumped against her hip. Its creaking handle brought her back to reality.

Hattie let out a huff before shuffling out of the grasp of the waves, where it would be easier to spot shells. But before she did, a playful crest rolled back to reveal the tip of a fancy looking shell. Gasping, Hattie knelt and carefully tugged the shell free and revealed what she always thought of as a mini conch, though her dad would probably tell her that it was whelk of some kind since it had a rounder top and thinner end.

After checking the inside cavity for any snail or sea critter by poking a cautious finger around to confirm it was empty, she held the whelk to her ear.

She grinned when she heard the ocean. But she was also standing in it so the shell could still potentially be a dud. Nevertheless, she placed it into the bucket, and it slid around as she went searching for more.

As Hattie combed the beach, a couple people showed up to lounge on the sand or wade in the surf. It didn’t get crowded, since it was a workday, but when she wandered towards the opposite side of the long beach, where the sand was cut off by rounded boulders that jutted out into the sea, she ran into a tourist screaming at a seagull.

“What’s wrong?” Hattie called as she hoisted her bucket overflowing with shells to the side to make it easier to sprint forward.

“That darn seagull took my stuff!” The tourist gestured angrily towards a seagull perched on one of the rocks surrounded by water. It bobbed its head around as it stood proudly over a grey camera. Sunlight glinted against the lens.

“I’ll get it,” Hattie offered without hesitation. She placed the bucket down and scrambled up the boulders.

“Wait, kid, you don’t have to!” He waved his hands across his chest, trying to get her to stop, but it was too late. She didn’t listen as she assessed the slippery boulders and slowly navigated her way across.

She came to the edge of the final boulder and eyed the gap between it and the one in the waves. The seagull cocked its head towards her and let out a squawk. Pausing, Hattie glanced around, trying to figure out how to distract the seagull.

Before she could, the seagull snapped its beak towards something behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find the tourist was waving a sandwich around. The seagull swooped over her, and she belatedly ducked as it soared over to the tourist. He yelped and turned on his heels before sprinting from the squawking bird.

Hattie tugged her cap down in determination before turning back towards the rock. She took a cautious step back before lunging from the boulder and vaulting onto the next. Grunting after she smacked against the rock, she scrambled up and grabbed the camera. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and nestled the camera between her sketchbook and Professor Popcorn. For good measure, she tucked her dad’s hoodie around it to keep it extra safe.

Once her backpack was zipped, she looped her arms through the straps and got ready to jump back.

The tourist had returned to his spot, hunched over and panting with his cap askew and white and grey feathers stuck to his vibrant orange shirt. She inhaled a steadying breath and leapt back towards shore.

She misjudged the distance.

Nearly sliding over the side of the rock, she scraped her knee against stone as she clambered and clawed. Panic squeezed her chest until she could finally find her grip.

“Careful, now!” the tourist called as she hoisted herself up with her heart pounding. She glanced towards the worried man and gave him a thumbs up before crawling forward.

Her stinging knee threatened to buckle when she first stood, but she gritted her teeth and pushed onward. She navigated back to the beach and dropped down onto the sand.

“Geez, kid, that was dangerous!” the tourist sighed as Hattie pulled out his camera.

“But I got it!” She beamed, holding it out proudly. Her smile faltered when she noticed the identical camera that hung around his neck. His chin tilted down as he followed her gaze.

“I was trying to tell you, I have a spare,” he said apologetically. “But, hey! Since you got it, why don’t you keep it? It’s great for preserving memories!”

Hattie pulled the camera back, appraising the contraption.

Preserving memories? No matter how much she sketched all the places she and her father had been, it might be nice to be able to just take a picture to quickly capture everything. She could take a picture of the sea, in fact. But she stared into the curved lens with growing dismay.

Flashes of headlights and blinding snaps. Posters with blurry images of her shadowy dad offering money for anyone who could capture the pictured creature, dead or alive. And, even when he shapeshifted, he was still so jumpy around cameras.

Maybe she could sell it at a pawn shop for a little extra cash? In the meantime, it might not hurt to keep it on hand…

“Oh, hold on,” the tourist exclaimed, startling her out of her thoughts. She tucked the camera back into her backpack and blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “You got quite the scrape there, let me help.” He motioned her over to his set up on the beach, complete with a towel and umbrella.

After the tourist helped her clean up and shared back-up sandwiches he had prepared, she let him choose one of the shells to take as thanks and set off to sell the rest.

She set up a little area at the top of the beach, halfway between the rest of the city and the parking lot for beach goers. After doodling a cute sign declaring her wares were ready, she caught the eyes of passersby and wove imaginative tales about the shells for anyone who came near. Since this wasn’t the first time that she had sold items that she salvaged while her dad worked, she had developed a good enough sense to get a read on personalities and how to appeal to them. Parents with children were easily swayed by silly stories about the shells. She even managed to convince a businessman walking by to purchase one since her wares were far cheaper than the nearby souvenir shops that sold the same shells. And, after all, hers were higher quality and, really, didn’t he want to support an aspiring entrepreneur? (It probably helped her chances that she practiced that word a few times prior to make sure she was pronouncing it right).

She bolted when she spotted some cops patrolling the area, though.

By the end of the day, she successfully sold more than half of her shells. She tucked the coins and cash safely into an inside pocket in her backpack, where her secret stash would help her buy food for whenever her dad inevitably got stuck in noddle form and couldn’t work. She had tried giving her earnings to him directly before, but he had only gotten upset, insisting she didn’t need to worry about money and it was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. But they both knew that he often pushed himself past his limits, and he couldn’t do everything himself.

She was just beginning to collect firewood close to their camp when footsteps tracked through the grass. Hattie froze, turning towards the sound and holding her breath. Golden light flickered between the trees and an approaching shadow broke into the small clearing.

“Hey, kiddo!” Her dad, still in his human form, which surprised her, jumped forward with a wide grin and his hands behind his back. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, but he was alert with enthusiasm as he straightened. A plastic bag crinkled noisily as it swayed behind him. “Guess what I got for our most important celebration tonight?”

“Celebration?” Hattie tilted her head, though his energy was infectious, and she cracked a smile.

“Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is,” he teased, bringing his hand forward and adjusting the delivery cap he wore for his morning job of delivering papers.

“Payday?” she guessed, crossing over to their firepit and dropping the dry twigs and branches she found.

“N-no, kiddo,” he faltered, quirking a brow as he revealed a plastic bag with local dollar store logo. “It’s your birthday!”

“Oh.” She blinked up at him.

“Did you really forget?” His features fell and the worn creases on his face highlighted the underlining fatigue. “We talked about it, right? When we were-when we were moving.”

“Y-yeah,” Hattie said. She did sort of remember now that he mentioned it, but she hadn’t thought too much about it since they had other things to worry about. “I just forgot what day of the week it is.”

He didn’t seem to believe her but he accepted the excuse.

“Well, I got hot dogs and marshmallows,” he added quickly, pulling out a bag of large marshmallows for emphasis. If he sensed how she tensed, he ignored it and gestured towards the direction of the beach. “I thought we could start a fire at one of the communal firepits and have a cookout!”

“What about our camp?” Hattie gestured to the little circle of rocks they had set up a few days ago when they first decided to settle in this city.

“It’ll still be here,” he promised. After tucking the marshmallows back into the bag, he walked over to her pile of wood and searched for the longest and cleanest sticks.

“But the beach is out in the open,” she pressed, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t you need to change back?”

“Of course not!” he insisted with a little more force than he probably intended. In a lighter tone, he waved his hand dismissively with a smile plastered across his face. “I can hold it together long enough for your birthday. Come on! Let’s have fun!”

He placed a few sticks he deemed worthy for hot dog and marshmallow roasting into the plastic bag and then motioned for her to follow.

“But—” she hesitated.

“You know, I used to do this when I was a kid,” he jumped enthusiastically into the memory, not giving her a chance to argue. She frowned but grabbed her backpack and the bucket that still had the leftover seashells.

Hey, if they were going to be on the beach, she might as well keep an eye out for more.

“Any time we went camping, we would grab a bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows. Of course,” he added a bit quietly as they walked through the woods, “usually we had buns and graham crackers and chocolate. But I did snag some ketchup packets from the restaurant!” He beamed proudly.

Hattie forced a smile, though guilt gnawed at the reminder that he had worked two jobs that day, trying to get enough money together so that they could find a motel to stay at sooner than later. She considered giving him the money she had saved, but she didn’t want to cause him more grief especially since she could tell he was masking his exhaustion. Maybe she could hide the money where he would find it with his things? She could pass it off as him misplacing the bills!

Though, both of them had become increasingly vigilant when dealing with money in the past couple years. He would have noticed if that much went missing in the first place.

“Here we are,” he gestured to the firepit closest to the forest the second they walked onto the sand. “Sit tight while I get the fire going.” There was wrapped firewood next to the pit, all ready for them and their cookout. His water bottle was also leaning against one of the logs, indicating that he had stopped by before running to get her. While he finished setting up, Hattie gazed out at the sea.

The water mirrored the stretch of twilight. Orange-pink rays of dwindling sunlight lingered on the horizon and the occasional star twinkled in the darkening sky. Crackles and pops that came from the growing fire behind her mingled with the surging waves before her. And when her dad joined her side and held out his hand, she smiled as she took it, keeping her gaze locked on the horizon.

“It’s like that one picture in the book at the library in the last town,” she whispered, craning her neck back to meet his warm golden gaze. “The one with the watercolor illustrations!”

“It is!” he agreed, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“I want to paint something like this one day,” she admitted, turning back to the sea.

“I bet you can, and sooner than you think.” His smile permeated his voice. He gently tugged her hand and nodded towards the firepit. Despite the lines under his eyes, he did seem happy, and that was good enough for Hattie.

“Okay!” She joined him on a log, and eagerly waited for him to pass her a stick he doused with water to keep it from burning.

Her dad filled her in on his day as they roasted the hot dogs. He got her laughing with a few jokes his coworkers shared, and she nodded knowingly when he told her about some of the customers he had worked with. When he asked about her day as he broke open the bag of marshmallows, she explained that she was looking for seashells and presented the bucket with her findings.

“Quick, if you have twenty seashells and I take five, how many do you have left?” he quizzed.

“F-fifteen!” Hattie blinked, hesitating only a moment as she registered the question.

“Good girl,” he praised, passing over a marshmallow.

“If you bought one bag of marshmallows for tonight, how many marshmallows will you have tomorrow morning?” She blinked up at him, trying and failing to conceal her growing smirk.

“Hmm.” He speared his own marshmallow as he gave her a wry grin. “That’s a tough one, why don’t you give me a hint?”

“Zero!” She pulled her burning marshmallow out of the fire and quickly blew on it.

The flames dissipated into a plume of smoke, leaving a burnt crust behind on the marshmallow. Without waiting, she popped it into her mouth and the gooey burst of molten sugar melted on her tongue.

“Becath I’ll eat ‘em all!” she declared through her sticky mouthful.

“Just don’t choke!” He chuckled before putting his arm around her and giving her a side squeeze. She immediately snuggled into his side, comforted by his warmth.

As they worked through the marshmallows and the night cloaked the beach, Hattie pulled out the hoodie and tugged it over herself. The hoodie was far too big since it was her dad’s but despite the floppy sleeves and how it was more like a dress on her, it was cozy and kept the night chill away. She became even cozier when her dad plucked her up and enveloped her in a hug.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.

“Hap—erm,” her cheeks flushed since she had almost wished him a happy birthday back. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Okay, I have one more surprise,” he said, arching back and stretching his arm maybe a bit farther than a human arm should, and rummaged around the plastic bag.

She leaned over, trying to peek and his other hand moved over her eyes.

“Don’t look!” He shifted around a bit before Hattie felt something lower into her lap. “Alright, now you can.” He pulled his hand away and she immediately glanced down.

Watercolors. A plastic palette of watercolors rested in her lap with a tiny brush snuggly tucked into a divot on the side. A single golden ribbon was taped on for the birthday wrapping. Her chest tightened as she imagined all the things she could paint, all the things she wanted to bring to life with water-soaked pigments.

But how much did he spend on her?

“Well?” he prompted with an edge of nervousness. “Is it okay?”

“I love it.” In one swift movement, she hugged the palette before swiveling around and burying her face into his chest. A lump threatened to lodge in her throat, but she swallowed it as she hugged her dad.

“Oh, Hattie.” He leaned over her and held her tightly. “I’m glad. I know it’s not much.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised, grasping his shirt.

He did so much for her, sacrificed so much just to take care of her, and now this? She wished she could do more to help.

After a few moments of lingering in his embrace, she pulled back while rubbing at her eyes.

“Everything oh-ahem.” Her dad suddenly pulled his hand away from his task of brushing her hair back. She wrinkled her nose as she blinked up at him.

He held his hand behind his back and his nervous, forced smile revealed his growing fangs.

“Dad,” she shuffled out of his lap, “you need to change back.”

She glanced around the beach quickly, relieved that there was no one nearby to see him.

“No!” He winced when an edge of a reverb tainted his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his other hand dismissively. It had completely turned ebony-violet. “I’m fine! I can hold it for a little long—” he stalled as he glimpsed his other hand and snapped it behind his back too, “—longer.”

Hattie frowned with her brows drooping. His irises radiated golden light as his pupils faded.

“Please. I know I can—” he faltered, pulling his hands back and holding them out before himself. His fingers trembled as they dripped, trying to reconnect. He bit his lip and grimaced when his lengthening fangs jabbed him. The familiar, purple-singed shadows spread from the expanding tips of his chestnut hair.

“It’s okay,” she insisted, turning around and rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie to start cleaning up so that they could head back to camp. She knew he was probably more exhausted than he let on.

“But it’s your birthday,” he whispered in such a broken voice that she felt a world of guilt press against her shoulders.

“And I can still spend it with you as a noodle!” She kept her tone light, giving him a smile strained from her concern.

The gold had encased his eyes and his teeth became backlit by a surging light in his throat. He considered her with tight dismay before scowling.

“No!” He pushed to his feet. “No, I can do this!”

“But, Dad,” Hattie called anxiously, unable to do anything but watch as he paced by the bonfire.

He held his hands out in front of himself, clenching them as he stared daggers into his purple palms. During his pacing, his legs began to quiver, and he paused, hunching as his hair began to drip. His fingers merged into mittens, taking on a gloopy appearance and Hattie thought that that was it, that he would just start getting bigger. She opened her mouth to try and get him to focus on saving his clothes, but the words died in her throat.

“Stop changing,” he wheezed in a wavering voice. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he strained to keep a human shape. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, snuffing out his golden light. The flickering fire cast twisting shadows against his trembling form. His arms lost all pretense of having bones and flopped down like limp noodles. His legs buckled and he thrust out his hand to catch himself.

“Something’s wrong!” Hattie hurried to his side, reaching out as his mitten hand clenching the sand lost its shape entirely and expanded into a puddle.

“N-no,” his reverberating voice gurgled behind globs of dripping purple that stretched across his mouth when he parted his lips. “I can do this!” But just as he said that, he grunted and lurched forward. Viscous liquid oozed from his shoes as his legs melted.

But they didn’t form a tail.

They just pooled out uselessly behind him.

“Dad!” Hattie placed a hand on his arm, but it collapsed under her touch. He let out a strangled cry as his whole arm gave away and he slammed against the beach.

He continued to melt despite his groaning and straining. The trembling shadows spilled from his clothes and into the sand. Panic seized Hattie’s chest as she feared she was going to lose him to the beach. Glancing around frantically, her gaze fell onto the bucket, and she lunged for it.

“Hold on!” Hattie called as she dumped the shells out and slid over to her father, who had gone eerily silent as the pooling liquid oozed and spread.

She dropped the bucket into the sand and quickly tried to shove waves of the viscous liquid inside, catching particles of sand with it. Once half of him filled the rusted bucket and kept spilling out, she righted it before scooping up purple globs. She tossed handful after handful of the soupy remains of her father into the bucket. The trembling sludge sputtered and splashed. Tears stung the corners of her eyes when she saw some liquid darkening and fading into intangible shadows that disappeared into the sand, gone for good.

“Stay with me,” she whispered in a cracking voice as she scooped up every last bit that she could.

After wringing purple from his shirt, pants, and the edges of her sleeves which had tumbled into the puddle a few times, Hattie searched for any of her father’s features in the goop squelching against the edges of the bucket.  

“Dad?” She lightly prodded the thick surface of the liquid and it shivered. A muffled groan bubbled up, though no golden light from his eyes or mouth followed. Hattie sighed, sitting back in the sand as she convinced herself that the fact that he had groaned meant he was still there. But now just as soup. In a bucket.

They’ve been through worse, right? This, too, should pass?

“Okay, you just sleep while I clean up,” she muttered as she pushed to her feet.

She collected their things and put out the fire, all the while glancing at the bucket as the goop settled. Once she had the plastic bag slung over her shoulder and her birthday gift tucked into her backpack, she slowly picked up the bucket.

“Oof,” she huffed as she heaved the bucket up, wincing when droplets splashed over the side. “Why is magic goop so heavy? That’s stupid,” she grumbled as she slowly made her way across the dark beach and back to their camping area. As she paused multiple times to give her arms a break and catch her breath, she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and pushed onward.

*

Luka groaned and on top of the usual reverb that came with his noodle body it sounded oddly like the gurgle of a garbage disposal choking on water. He blinked tired eyes and the golden glow rebounded against the daffodil-yellow inside of Hattie’s baseball cap.

Oh. Had he shrunk down and dozed while Hattie was shopping? That didn’t seem right. Actually, what had he been doing before this?

A surge of panic bubbled up as he recalled trying to hold onto his humanity at the beach. He remembered the tighter he held the form, the more it slipped through his clenched fingers. He heard a slosh of thick liquid when he tried to lift his hand.

He couldn’t lift his hand.

He couldn’t lift his hand.

He couldn’t even turn his head! His eyes darted around frantically, catching the rim of some sort of curving, metal wall in the corners of his vision but he could only really look straight up at Hattie’s cap.

“K-ki—” he sputtered as some sort of gunk trickled into his mouth. Expelling wet coughs only caused more of the viscous goop to slip in. His anxious attempts to move coupled with his hyperventilating only increased the panicked sloshing that sounded like puddles disrupted by pricks of rain.

“Dad?” Hattie’s sleepy voice responded.

“H-help I’m—” he gagged on a particularly large glob.

“Hold on!”

He tried to spit out the gunk and a heavy droplet plunked against him. He shivered from the sensation but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Relief swelled when the cap was removed and Hattie looked down at him, with sunlight filtering through the trees. Squinting at the sudden light, he tried to squirm around.

While not happy, she at least looked safe and sound. She wore his delivery cap, and he could see the dangling strings of his hoodie. If the sunlight was any indication, he must have slept through the night. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t been too uncomfortable or cold without his coil to protect her from the elements.

“What’s going on?” he forced out, feeling like he was talking through a wad of bubblegum.

Hattie sat back, making it harder for him to see her at his angle. He twisted to try to get closer.

“You’re in a bucket,” she answered tiredly. When she glanced up and realized she was wearing his delivery cap, she jolted and swiftly took it off.

“A bucket?” he echoed in distress. His eyes shifted around as he glimpsed the walls and the occasional splash of purple-black goop if he moved too quickly. He blinked.

“Oh my god, I melted.”

“Yeah,” Hattie sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the baggy, purple sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“Um.”

No.

“I’ve been better.” He winced, realizing all the gunk that was getting caught in his mouth was himself. Fantastic.

“Do you need anything?” she prompted with hesitation as she glanced around. “Like water or something?”

“I need to get out of this bucket!” He pushed his eye against the rim, and he felt himself ripple. “Here, dump me out! I can try to—” he coughed, “—pull myself back together.”

“I lost so much of you on the beach though,” Hattie objected. “And y-you just disappeared, like the goopy stuff turned all shadowy.”

He caught the crack in her voice, and frowned, both from hearing how part of him just up and evaporated—okay, a lot of him if what was left of his monstrous noodle form could fit inside a tiny bucket—and from how much he had frightened her.

“I can’t stay like this, though,” he argued. “I have work! And you can’t stay in the woods on your own!” He shifted around, trying to figure out how to stretch his neck or anything but his neck and everything was gone! First, he lost his body and now he lost his monster body? This wasn’t fair! He couldn’t live like this!

In his frustration, he tried to will himself to have arms or hands or even his tail would work. The goop bubbled and frothed, and he grunted from the strain, but he could do it! He could pull himself together!

“Stop!” Hattie commanded. He yelped as he felt small hands jut into the goop and scoop up his features.

He felt himself spread out and winced as strands dripped back down into the bucket with heavy plops. It was like the world and his body were spinning around him, disconnected and far from his grasp as his head remained stagnant but stuck. After blinking and spotting Hattie’s thumb acting as a barrier as trickles of him slipped through the cracks of her fingers, he grounded himself in her frustrated blue gaze.

“If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll just make it worse!” Her nose scrunched up into a hard scowl, but he heard the lump in her throat underneath her irate bite. “Just stop!”

“Sorry,” he gurgled quietly. Her brows furrowed even more, and he added as gently as he could, “I’ll rest, kiddo. I’ll take it easy.”

“Promise?” She stared him down.

“Promise,” he breathed out, slumping.

She lowered him back into the bucket and a soft bloop sound was followed by flickers of drops as she pulled her hands out. He hummed to relieve some distress as he tried to force himself to relax.

“Maybe you just need sleep,” Hattie offered. She grumbled a bit, but he could tell she was trying to soften her tone.

“That’s usually all it is,” he agreed.

He did feel a similar exhaustion to all the times he pushed his time limit and got stuck in noodle form. Only this was much worse. Even when he was a human, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember a time he was so tired that he couldn’t move his muscles.

Leaning his eyes against the rim of the bucket for some semblance of security, he desperately hoped he wouldn’t be stuck like this. But even if he did eventually turn back to monster-normal, he had a sneaking suspicion he really screwed over his already sparse shapeshifting time.  

“Do you want me to put the hat back over?” Hattie lifted her cap into his view. “To help you sleep?”

“No,” he said a little quickly. She lowered the hat and he added, sheepishly, “I know I can’t see much from here, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay. Go to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.” She scooted over to their campfire, and he heard the click of the lighter.

He sighed but tried to let the distant crackle of flame and the low tap of Hattie sketching on paper lull him into a semi-relaxed state. His eyes closed into tiny slits and as he dozed, a gentle and continuous rumble bubbled up from within.

“Dad?” Hattie whispered after a stretch of time, scooting back into view and looking down with her hair slipping from behind her ear.

“Hmm?” His eyes cracked open, slowly registering the rumbling sound. In his peripheral vision, the surface of the ebony-violet goop rippled steadily.

Hattie cracked a grin.

“You’re purring!” she said in slight disbelief before exploding into giggles.

“I’m—?” he began before he recognized the familiar and involuntary purr. A dusting of faint gold emanated from beneath the surface of the goop as he blushed.

“The whole bucket is shaking!” Hattie covered her mouth as her laugh trickled out in mirthful chimes.

Despite himself, Luka smiled, glad to hear her laugh.

“I guess it looks pretty silly,” he admitted, imagining the bucket wiggling around. Though now that he was becoming more alert, the rumbling slowed to a stop. In their absence, he realized how comforting the vibrations had been.

Hmm. Maybe the purring was a way to pull himself back together? It wasn’t something he could force or speed up, though. Typical.

“Do you want any food?” Hattie perked after she calmed down from laughing. “I was roasting some hot dogs.”

“I’ll try a bite,” his eyes and mouth shifted up and down in an affirmative nod that sent tiny waves splashing against the side of the bucket.

He couldn’t really tell if he was hungry, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to eat but he would do anything that would help him replenish some energy.

When Hattie returned with a torn piece of a hot dog, Luka opened his mouth and let out a gurgling, “ah.”

With a giggle, she gently lowered the hot dog as close as she could before dropping it. He felt the hot dog plop down and coughed. Hattie winced in apology as he closed his mouth and pensively chewed.

“I’m fine,” he said after a thick swallow. He couldn’t feel the lump of the hot dog anymore but in the past few years of dealing with his magic, goopy body, he learned to not ask questions he couldn’t answer and near the top of that list was wondering what the heck replaced his melted digestive track.

Hattie fed him a few more pieces and he swallowed the dismay of not being able to feed himself. Even though he had grown accustomed to relying on Hattie for help when his chameleon paws couldn’t work with delicate silverware, the familiar sorrow from the early days returned now that he didn’t even have hands.

After what he was certain was a late lunch, he napped on and off as Hattie remained nearby. When he would check in with her, she would present her latest sketches proudly, and even had one completed work in watercolor. It was a scene of the ocean, and while her sketchbook paper wasn’t meant to hold so much moisture, causing it to crinkle and warp when it dried, she excitedly explained that she was going to do other paintings exactly like it, but all showcasing the ocean at different times of the day. He told her that he was eager to see them, overjoyed that she was having fun with her gift like he had hoped she would.

If only he had been able to save up enough for a motel in time for her birthday, or at the very least, if only he hadn’t melted on her. But that was really his fault for pushing himself so hard.

He had just so badly wanted to make it special. She hadn’t even remembered her own birthday! What else was he supposed to do? Let himself turn into a monster? She deserved to have her actual dad on her birthday.

“Hey, Dad?” Her voice drew him out of his sinking despair.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he shifted his eyes in the bucket, trying to find a position that best allowed him to see her.

“What should I tell your boss?” She held out his phone, which was lit up with messages with letters in all caps.

Luka groaned.

“Can you read the messages for me?” He mentally prepared for the nerve-wracking ordeal of trying to explain himself without admitting to his boss that the reason he couldn’t make it to work was because he turned into a bucket of silly putty.

With Luka directing her, Hattie responded to the understandably angry but maybe harsher than necessary texts from his boss at the restaurant. Once that was done, he let out a heavy sigh, accidentally blowing a bubble in the goop, which shortly popped and splattered. He flinched when a drop landed in his eye.

“Do I have anything from the newspaper office?” Luka asked, dreading the thought of not only the manager getting upset when he found out no one had delivered newspapers in the morning, but of all the people who would no doubt call to complain about empty doorsteps.

“No,” Hattie replied slowly.

“Really?” Luka wasn’t sure if he should count that as good or bad. Either way, he was probably out of a job. “I’ll need to start looking for something else.”

“Why?” Hattie scooted closer, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked down at him.

“They’ve probably already decided to fire me,” he lamented with his mouth sinking and gurgling in the gunk.

“Nah.” She glanced away, tapping around on his phone.

He blinked up at her.

“Nah?” he repeated. When Hattie kept her gaze down and her lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “Hattie? What did you do?”

“I maybe did your deliveries for you?” she offered guiltily.

He stared at her.

“You what?” he sputtered, causing his sludge to ripple as panic seized him. “By yourself? Hattie! You just turned eight! My route is a couple miles long, and you would have had to bike before dawn! There are child labor laws! What do you mean you did my deliveries?”

“I had help!” Hattie hurried to explain. “I ran into a nice tourist I met yesterday, and he gave me a map and delivered half of the newspapers for me.”

“You worked with a stranger?” Luka demanded, shifting around in the bucket. “Harriet Princeton, you are not supposed to talk to strangers!”

“So, I’m only supposed to talk to you?” She threw her hands up in the air.

“No! I mean—that’s not the point!” he faltered, sloshing around as the bite in her words stung. Bits of goop splattered over the rim and Hattie jolted.

“Stop freaking out!” She helplessly tried to grasp at the stray droplets. “I can’t lose you again!”

He paused, tensing. Well, tensing as much as he could as a viscous liquid.

“Wh-what do you mean lose me again?” he pressed tightly.

“I thought you were gone when you melted,” she said with a cracking voice. She hugged her legs and rest her chin on her knees. “I thought I didn’t get all of you in time and you were gone, and I just wanted to help because you’re so tired all time but—” she trailed off in a squeak as tears filled her eyes.

“Hattie—” he shifted towards her, but the goop sputtered as he instinctively tried to reach out to his daughter. Liquid stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Hattie, look at me please.”

She turned and revealed tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gold blurred his vision, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry,” he began in a congested voice, thick with gunk and reverb. “I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it! But I don’t want you worrying about my jobs or money. You shouldn’t have to.”

His voice cracked and all too late, he realized that the reason he sounded so congested was partly because of the golden tears filling the bucket. They glittered in the goop, separated like oil drops in water. His breath hitched and the goop swelled.

“But I can—” he tried to continue as the tears slipped out and the goop splashed up when he instinctively tried to wipe them away with a hand that wasn’t there.

“You’re spilling!” Hattie interrupted, jolting upward and hurrying over, placing her arms around the rim but the added tears were causing his anxious sloshing to spill over. “Stop crying!”

“What?” He jolted, shifting his eyes around and catching glimpses of purple and gold staining her sleeves. Her dismayed features above him only encouraged his tears and he made a muffled sniffling noise as panic surged and his tears swelled.

“Dad!” she yelped. But her own distraught features cleaved through his squishy, melted chest.

“I-I can’t! Give me a moment!” Twisting away, he tried to lock his eyes on something to ground himself, but in his panic, he kept attempting to turn and wipe his tears. The spilling goop sloshed uncontrollably.

“Try to laugh!” Hattie begged. “Tell me a stupid joke!”

“Ah, uh.” He pressed his lips into a tight line as he struggled to think of something. “Um. You know what? This situation really pails in comparison to—uh—that one time we teleported into that bear den!”

“What?” Hattie furrowed her brows. But it looked like her tears halted in confusion.

“P-pails, like a pun? It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be funny. Please laugh,” he said weakly. He blinked and let out a tight exhale as he felt himself calm and the rest of the goop start to settle.

“That’s a stupid joke.” Hattie sniffled as she leaned back and slowly lifted her arms, revealing sleeves soaked with purple sludge.

“I got buckets of them.” He added a sardonic, “ha,” as the gold ebbed. While a few dancing droplets of tears wiggled in his goop, now that he was calmer, trembling splashes no longer spilled over the rim.

Hattie wrung out the sleeves. He flinched at the droplets that pelted his face and sent ripples along the surface.

“That’s even worse,” she sighed, though a small smile found its way onto her features. She tugged up one of her sleeves and gingerly reached over and wiped at the edge of his eye.

He grunted, squeezing it shut but when she pulled away, he watched her flick a golden droplet towards the grass. He sighed, blowing a few bubbles.

“Please don’t do my job tomorrow,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”

She nodded slowly before thinking better of it.

“Only if you promise not to push yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he said tiredly before he yawned. Sludge dribbled into his mouth, and he sputtered.

“Sleep.” She poked the goop. He shifted his eyes next to her finger, which was the closest he could come to giving her an encouraging nuzzle.

“What about you?” he asked, staring up at the canopy of leaves. There was still sunlight trickling down, but it seemed fainter.

“I can eat soon,” she shrugged.

“Wake me if you need anything,” he muttered, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Did he even have eyelids at this point? Maybe it was more that his eyes were sinking. Might be more apt.

Hattie promised to, but he had a feeling they both knew she would deal with any problem on her own before waking him. Frowning, he supposed the best thing he could do for her would be to recover as swiftly as possible.

He settled into the bucket, and soon enough, the sludge began to ripple as he automatically purred. He caught Hattie’s stifled snort at the vibrating bucket before he fell asleep.

Night blanketed the forest by the time he woke up again. Still purring, he blinked as he felt something shift. The rippling rumbles of goop seemed to be tightening and when he moved to lift his head, he peeked over the rim of the bucket. Relief swelled inside as he spotted Hattie’s back. She was drawing by the fire, safe and sound.

Edging backward, he tilted his head down, blinking at the vibrating goop as it slowly re-solidified into shape. After a moment, he lifted his noodle arms and wiggled his chameleon paws. Funny, he was actually relieved to see them for once. Once his tail formed, he heaved out a sigh. There wasn’t a drop of him left behind in the bucket, but now he took up less volume.

“Kiddo,” he called softly, floating up to the rim of the bucket and placing his hands on the edge, curling his tail beneath himself.

“Dad!” Hattie gasped when she saw his familiar form. Scrambling around, she darted over, and he flew up into her embrace.

“You’re tiny,” she muttered into the plush fluff around his neck. His tail waved back and forth as he returned her firm hug.

“I’m sure I’ll get back to normal size,” he guessed. Probably. After a long enough rest without using his shapeshifting.

Moments passed until he caught a low grumble coming from Hattie’s stomach. He craned his neck with a smirk.

“In the meantime, are there anymore marshmallows to share?”

“I ate them all. Remember our math quiz? Zero left.” Hattie said without missing a beat as she turned back around and brought him to the fireside. “Just kidding, I saved you some.”

“That’s my girl!” His tail waved harder as he chuckled.

He extended an arm towards the bag, noting that he couldn’t really stretch it like usual, and made a grasping motion. Hattie plopped the bag into her lap, still using an arm to hug him, and they both took turns popping the confections into their mouths.

Yes, after a week’s worth of rest, he would grow to his usual massive size and when he could shapeshift again, he would have to deal with the consequences of missing so much work. But until then, he and Hattie would take it day by day and one marshmallow at a time.

[thelastspeecher]

Spirit Touched - Chapter 2: Nuktuk

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6   AO3

I got impatient and posted the second chapter.  Here’s some more tiny Zuko for your soul.  And a chance encounter...

Again, this fic is inspired by @muffinlance‘s fic Salvage and fanart that @agent-jaselin did of it.

——————————————————————————————

              Zuko stood on the deck and breathed in deeply.  The salty ocean air filled his lungs, bringing up the memories of the years he’d spent at sea, making him forget for a moment the cursed situation he was now in.  He was forcibly reminded of his circumstances when he stepped forward and tripped over the still too long shirt he was wearing.

              “Don’t worry, little prince,” Panuk said, “we’re going ashore today to get you some clothing.”  Zuko got up into a sitting position.  He crossed his arms.

              “Great.  More people to see me in this state.”

              “Don’t worry, Nuktuk, no one’s going to think you’re anything but a regular toddler,” Toklo said, walking over to Zuko and picking him up.

              “Don’t pick me up without asking first- wait, what did you call me?”

              “Nuktuk.  Isn’t it cute?  It’s the name my parents almost gave me.”

              “Why are you calling me by a Water Tribe name?” Zuko sighed.  Toklo ruffled his hair, which had grown into a soft layer of black fuzz.

              “Because as far as anyone in this town is concerned, you’re Water Tribe,” Hakoda said, walking over.  “Specifically, a member of the Water Tribe named Nuktuk.”

              “Why?” Zuko asked.  To his chagrin, it came out as a whine, something that had been happening more and more often lately.

              “A toddler on a Water Tribe ship won’t attract attention if that toddler is Water Tribe.  It will attract attention if that toddler is Fire Nation,” Hakoda said.  He took Zuko from Toklo.  “You’ll be coming with me to get clothes.”

              “Why do I even need to come ashore?” Zuko muttered.

              “If I’m getting you clothes, I need to make sure they fit,” Hakoda said shortly, already marching off the ship, Zuko grumbling wordlessly in his arms.

----- 

              “He can wear that out,” the shopkeeper said to Hakoda.  The shopkeeper nodded at Zuko standing nearby in typical green and brown Earth Kingdom clothes.  “I saw what he was wearing when you brought him in.”

              “Yeah, Nuktuk here tossed all his clothes overboard when no one was watching him.”  Hakoda looked at Zuko.  “What was the reasoning you gave for that, again?”  Zuko crossed his arms and looked away, his mind racing.  What would a child say?

              “…I don’t know,” he finally mumbled, failing to come up with something. The shopkeeper chuckled.

              “What a classic kid response.  ‘I don’t know.’”

              Apparently, that was the right answer.

              “Thanks,” Hakoda said to the shopkeeper after he purchased Zuko’s new clothes.  “Come on, Nuktuk.”  Zuko followed Hakoda out of the store.  Hakoda looked down at Zuko thoughtfully.

              “…What?” Zuko asked.

              “When Sokka and Katara were your age, they liked riding on my shoulders,” Hakoda remarked.  Zuko scowled.

              “I’m sixteen.”

              “You’re four.”

              “Hmph.”  Zuko looked away.  “…Are you offering to let me ride on your shoulders?” he asked after a moment.

              “If you want,” Hakoda said with a shrug.  Zuko’s desire to maintain dignity and his childish urges battled.  The childish urges won out.

              “…Yes,” he said quietly.

              “All right.”  Hakoda lifted Zuko and placed him on his shoulders.  “Hold on.”  Zuko grabbed fistfuls of Hakoda’s shirt.  Hakoda began to walk.

              From his vantage point on Hakoda’s shoulders, Zuko could see more than he had since the spirits cursed him like this.  Actually, he could see more than he could even before he was cursed. It was refreshing to be able to see more than peoples’ legs.  They walked past a young woman outside a flower shop.

              “Sir?” the woman called.  Hakoda stopped and turned to look at her.  “Your son is very cute.”  Zuko turned red.  Hakoda chuckled.

              “Thanks.  All his mom.” The woman chuckled as well. Hakoda continued to walk.

              They spotted Kustaa just as he was leaving an apothecary.  Kustaa raised a silent eyebrow at the sight of Zuko on Hakoda’s shoulders.  Zuko blushed again.

              “Let me down,” he instructed Hakoda.  Hakoda didn’t do anything.  Zuko sighed. “Please.”

              “Well, since you said the magic word…”  Hakoda removed Zuko from his shoulders and set him on the ground.

              “That was a wise move,” Kustaa said.  “The town square is just over there, and you’d hate for anyone else on the crew to see you riding the Chief’s shoulders.”

              “Hey, Nuktuk!” Toklo’s voice called.  The men and Zuko looked over.  Toklo stood in the square, waving something Zuko immediately recognized. “I got you those fire flakes you like!” Before the words had even left Toklo’s mouth, Zuko was running over.  He bumped into someone, mumbled an apology, and kept running.  Once he got to Toklo, he jumped up, trying to get the fire flakes from him.  However, Toklo held them just out of reach.

              “Don’t run off like that,” Hakoda scolded as he finally caught up to Zuko. Zuko ignored him in favor of continuing his attempts to get the fire flakes.  Kustaa joined them as well.

              “We should leave,” Kustaa said softly to Hakoda.  “The men Zuko just bumped into were Fire Nation.  They were out of uniform, but it was obvious what they were.”

              “Thank you for letting me know,” Hakoda replied quietly.  He raised his voice.  “Toklo, stop playing keep away.  You and Kustaa take Nuktuk back to the ship.  I’ll wait for the others.”

              “Why?” Zuko asked.  He grabbed the fire flakes from Toklo and began to stuff them into his mouth happily.

              “You’re going to have to take a nap soon,” Hakoda reminded him.  Zuko scowled.  Kustaa took Zuko’s hand and led him out of the square.  Toklo trailed after them.  Hakoda looked around, but didn’t spot the men Zuko had run into. He let out a sigh of relief as he sat on a rock to wait for the rest of the crew.

              It’s a good thing Zuko didn’t attract any attention from the Fire Nation men. Who knows who they were, and what they would have done if they’d gotten a good look at him.    

-----           

              “You see, Lieutenant Jee, when we enter the village not wearing our uniforms, we are treated much better,” Iroh said as they exited the tea shop with bags of blends recommended by the owner.

              “Yes, you’re right,” Jee said with a slight nod.  Like the rest of the crew of the Wani, he was treating Iroh gently after the loss of Zuko.

              “Hey, Nuktuk!” a voice called.  Iroh and Jee looked over.  A young man, Water Tribe, judging by his appearance, stood in the town square with bags of food.  The man waved a container of something that every Fire Nation child would recognize. “I got you those fire flakes you like!”

              Promptly, a young boy, on the cusp of being called a child rather than a toddler, raced past Iroh and Jee, knocking into Iroh.  A man rushed after the boy, who was presumably Nuktuk. Another man stopped in front of Iroh and Jee and smiled apologetically.

              “Sorry that he ran into you.  My nephew can be excitable,” the man said.  Iroh chuckled.

              “No need to apologize!  My nephew was the same at that age,” he said jovially.  The man inclined his head slightly and joined the rest of his companions in the square.  All except Nuktuk were dressed in traditional Water Tribe attire.

              “Rare to see Water Tribe around here,” Jee said softly.  Iroh waved a hand.

              “Leave them be.  They’re clearly a family, probably refugees.  Look at them.”  The young man that had purchased fire flakes was holding them just out of reach of Nuktuk, making the boy jump for them.  Iroh smiled. “They aren’t doing any harm.”

              “Yes, sir,” Jee said.  Iroh watched Nuktuk thoughtfully.  “Sir?”

              “That young boy…he’s been touched by the spirits.”

              “How- how can you tell?”

              “It sticks out all over him,” Iroh said, as if that answer made complete sense.  He sighed. “It’s kind of the spirits to bless someone like him.”

              “…A war bastard half-breed?” Jee asked.  Even from this distance, it was obvious Nuktuk’s skin was too pale, his hair too dark, to be full Water Tribe.  Iroh frowned at Jee.

              “Yes.  But perhaps it would be better to use kinder words when talking about a child,” he said firmly.  Jee merely nodded in response.  “We should board.  We can’t keep Zhao waiting any longer.”  The two men walked away, Iroh glancing at Nuktuk every now and then, his heart heavy with memories of Zuko and Lu Ten.

----- 

              Hakoda knew a toddler bursting with energy when he saw one.  Usually, said toddler wouldn’t hesitate to expend that energy.  But most toddlers weren’t teenagers two weeks ago.

              “You look like you could use a chance to stretch your legs,” he remarked. Zuko, who had been fidgeting nonstop since breakfast, looked up.  Once again, he had been assigned to work on nets with Tuluk, as that was the easiest chore for the former teenager, current toddler.

              “I’m fine,” Zuko said.  He wiggled in his seat, seemingly without realizing it.  Tuluk poorly stifled a laugh.  Zuko scowled at him.  The trademark glare had been taking a gradual decline in efficacy for some time before the spirits intervened.  Now that Zuko was a child, the expression only made him cuter.

              “You’re more jittery than a polar bear-dog with new pups,” Hakoda said. Zuko wiggled again.  “Luckily, you can run off some of that energy when we dock.”

              “I’m not going ashore as a child again.  The first time was humiliating enough,” Zuko muttered to his feeble netting knots.  Hakoda sighed and sat next to him.

              “Your current rules include doing what is necessary for someone your age. It’s not healthy to force a four-year-old to sit still for hours on end.”

              “It’s a good thing I’m not being forced, then.”

              “Are you sure?” Hakoda asked.  Zuko eyed him.

              “No one told me to sit still.”

              “You did.”  Zuko dropped his netting and cocked his head curiously.  It was an expression to be expected from a toddler who didn’t understand how the world worked.  It was less expected from Zuko, whose youthful appearance masked sixteen years of experience.  “You’re forcing yourself to sit still.”

              “But-”

              “I admit, this is the first time I’ve seen a toddler task themselves with behaving so well,” Hakoda continued.  “What I said still applies, however.  Your body wants to run around, but you’re holding yourself in check.” Zuko picked up his netting again. He played with it.

              “There’s not much room for running around on a boat, anyways,” he mumbled.

              “Which is why you’re coming ashore.”  Zuko scowled.  “That’s an order.”

              “…Yes, Chief.”

              In Hakoda’s experience, a toddler forced to stay still for too long would release the pent-up energy in a potentially damaging way.  The likelihood of something breaking went up drastically if that toddler was a bender.  Hopefully, by letting Zuko run off the energy on land, they could avoid any firebending outbursts on their very flammable ship.

----- 

              A few hours later, the Akhlut docked.  Under normal circumstances, they would wait longer in between stopping at ports. But as Hakoda watched Zuko toddle down the gangplank, he couldn’t ignore how painfully abnormal the current circumstances were.

              “Are you coming?” Zuko asked once he was on solid ground.  Hakoda was once again reminded of his own children; that might as well have come from Katara when she was four.  He followed Zuko ashore.  Zuko crossed his arms.  “Now what?”

              “Now we find an open place where you can run around,” Hakoda said, heading for the beach.

              “How long am I expected to ‘run around’?”

              “Generally speaking, children your age only stop when they use up all their energy and literally collapse.”  Hakoda glanced at Zuko.  “Given your situation, however, I’ll be fine with leaving once I notice you slowing down.” Zuko nodded reluctantly.

              “Is anyone else coming?” he asked.

              “No.  We’re near General Fong’s base.  He’s not that pleased with us, so I’m keeping the number of crew who might be spotted by his men to a minimum.”

              “Not even Healer Kustaa?” Zuko asked.  Disappointment shone in his voice.

              “You’ll get to see him soon enough, don’t worry,” Hakoda replied. Zuko pouted.  They continued their walk in silence.

              They hadn’t been walking long when Hakoda began to pick up on the faint sound of children playing.  He looked at Zuko out of the corner of his eye.  Judging by how white his already pale skin had become, the firebender heard as well.  They turned a corner.

              “This looks like a good place,” Hakoda said.  They had arrived at a slightly secluded cove filled with young children and mothers.  The children, ranging from infants to a few years older than Zuko, chased each other across the sand, playing games Hakoda remembered from his own childhood.

              “Good?” Zuko hissed, clearly scandalized.  “There’s- there’s children here!”

              “Yes, and you are one of them.”  Hakoda put a hand on Zuko’s back.  He gently pushed the boy forward.  “Go play with your peers.”

              “They’re not my-”  A girl about Zuko’s age ran past, tapping Zuko on the shoulder.

              “Tag!” she shouted.  Zuko stared after her dumbly.

              “Aren’t you going to play tag?” Hakoda prompted.  Zuko looked down at his feet.  “Do you know what tag is?”

              “…No.”

              “It’s a chasing game.  Whoever is ‘it’ tries to touch someone.  If they touch someone, that new person is ‘it’.”

              “Oh.”  Zuko remained where he stood.  The girl that tagged him came back over.

              “Are you gonna play?” she asked.  Zuko opened and closed his mouth silently.

              “Yes, he will,” Hakoda interjected.  “But he’s a bit shy and he’s never played tag before.  Would you help him, please?”  The girl beamed, showing off a gap-toothed smile.

              “Yeah!”  She looked at Zuko.  “What’s your name?”

              “Nuktuk,” Zuko mumbled.  The girl giggled.

              “That’s a funny name.  C’mon, Nuktuk!”  She grabbed Zuko’s hand and pulled him away from Hakoda, towards the energetic children.

              Hakoda watched for a few minutes, ready to intervene if Zuko was too out of his element.  But as he’d seen happen before, Zuko slipped into childish behaviors easily.  Hakoda took a seat near the group of mothers keeping an eye their children, nodding politely at them before resuming watch of Zuko.

              Watching the former Fire Prince run with the other toddlers, the dull headache Hakoda had since that morning began to fade.  There was nothing to indicate that Zuko was different from his peers.  All Hakoda saw was a young boy enjoying himself.  The rare sight was enough to make him smile.

----- 

              Zuko played for much longer than Hakoda expected.  Most people had left the play area by the time the young firebender called it quits.  Hakoda quickly got rid of his smile as Zuko trod over, rubbing his eyes.

              “Done?” he asked.  Zuko let out a yawn and nodded.  “You looked like you had a good time out there.”

              “Yeah,” Zuko mumbled sleepily.

              “Maybe you should try to run around the deck every now and then?” Hakoda probed.  Zuko yawned again.  “It won’t be as fun as today, but it’s better than nothing.  And we can’t just land whenever you need to blow off some steam.” Zuko merely nodded.  “Would you like to ride on my shoulders back to the ship?”

              “Yes, please, sir,” Zuko said.  His voice was thick with sleep.  Hakoda lifted the tired toddler, gently placing him on his shoulders.  Zuko grabbed handfuls of his shirt and leaned against Hakoda’s neck and head.  Hakoda headed for the way they came.

              Quickly, Hakoda stopped trying to make conversation with Zuko during the walk back to the ship.  All questions received significantly delayed single word answers.  Just as he caught sight of the Akhlut, Zuko began to snore.  Hakoda chuckled.  His buoyant mood vanished, however, as he neared the ship.  Two Earth Kingdom soldiers stood by the gangplank, speaking with Bato.

              “Is there a problem?” Hakoda asked upon arrival.  The soldiers looked over at him, then at Zuko.  Hakoda raised an eyebrow.  “Well?”

              “We were wondering why your ship was docked and didn’t seem to be picking up supplies,” the shorter of the two soldiers said.

              “I was trying to explain to them that we didn’t need supplies,” Bato said. He frowned at the soldiers. “Which shouldn’t merit a visit from the Earth Kingdom Military.”

              “You’re near an important base.  We have to be careful with foreign ships,” the short soldier replied.

              “Our ship is clearly from the Water Tribe,” Bato snapped.

              “Fire Nation soldiers could have captured a Water Tribe ship,” the short soldier said with a shrug.

              “No self-respecting Fire Nation soldier would pretend to be Water Tribe,” Hakoda scoffed.  The four-year-old proof he was lying let out a loud snore.  Hakoda removed Zuko from his shoulders, carefully, so as to not wake him up.  “We had to stop so that Nuktuk could spend some time ashore.  It’s not good for someone his age to be at sea nonstop.”

              “Why do you have a half-breed child on your warship?” the taller soldier asked, speaking for the first time.  Hakoda stiffened.  Before he could respond, Bato came to “Nuktuk’s” defense.

              “Don’t call him that,” Bato said shortly.

              “He is, though.  Anyone with half a brain could tell he’s part Fire Nation,” the tall soldier argued back.

              “His parentage isn’t important,” Hakoda said, trying to keep a level tone. “Nuktuk is Water Tribe.”  The soldiers exchanged doubtful looks.  “To answer your question, he’s the lone survivor of his village.  We stumbled across him as we left the South Pole.”

              “Why haven’t you dropped him off somewhere?” the short soldier asked. “It’s not safe for a child to be aboard a warship.”

              “We haven’t had a chance to visit a Water Tribe village since we picked him up.”

              “The Earth Kingdom has plenty of orphanages,” the short soldier said.

              “We wouldn’t leave a Water Tribe child in an Earth Kingdom orphanage,” Bato said.  “He deserves to grow up among his people.”

              “Should’ve left him in the Fire Nation, then,” the tall soldier muttered. Bato glared.

              “Are you going to let us board our ship and leave?” Hakoda asked before things could continue to spiral.  “Nuktuk needs to be put to bed.”  The soldiers exchanged another look.

              “Fine,” the short one sighed.  The two soldiers walked away.  Once they were out of earshot, Bato turned to Hakoda.

              “What took you so long?”

              “He had more energy than I thought,” Hakoda replied.  Zuko shifted slightly in his arms.  “He really needed this.”

              “I can tell.”  Bato went up the gangplank, Hakoda close behind.  “Did the two of you enjoy yourselves?”

              “Him more than me.  Though it was entertaining to watch him learn common games.”

              “You found some children his age?” Bato asked.  Hakoda nodded.

              “Other than not knowing what tag was, he fit right in with them, too.”

              “Of course he didn’t know what tag was,” Bato muttered.  Hakoda snorted.  “What?”

              “I can see right through you, Bato.  You’re getting soft on Zuko, just like the rest of us.”

              “…Maybe I am,” Bato conceded.  “But if I am, it’s only because he reminds me of Sokka.”  Bato’s eyes widened.  “Oh!  Speaking of Sokka, apparently the Avatar’s sky bison passed over the base not long ago, likely on their way to the North Pole.”

              “Really?”

              “Yes.  The soldiers mentioned it while they were trying to strong-arm me.”

              “At least they didn’t stop.  I would hate to have missed them.”

              “I don’t know about that,” Bato said after a moment.  Hakoda eyed him.  “How do you think we’d explain ‘Nuktuk’ to them?”

              “The same way I explained it to the soldiers.”

              “Katara and Sokka would see right through it.”  Bato ruffled Zuko’s short, fuzzy hair.  “Kid doesn’t know how to act like he’s Water Tribe.  Or how to act like he’s a normal toddler.”

              “Fair enough.”  Hakoda and Bato came to a stop outside the infirmary.  “Who knows how Zuko would react to seeing them, anyways?”

              “Probably with his first temper tantrum.”

              “Ugh.  Don’t remind me he’s at that age,” Hakoda muttered.  Bato let out a bark of laughter.  “Tell the crew to cast off.”

              “You got it.”  Bato strolled away.  Hakoda ducked inside the infirmary.  Kustaa took the sleeping toddler from him.

              “You really tired him out,” Kustaa remarked.  “What did you do, practice hand-to-hand combat with him?”

              “No.  He just…ran around like a kid.”  Kustaa looked at him inquisitively.  “We found a group of children his age.  After they taught him how to play their games, he played with them.  It was like he was a normal toddler.”

              “Hmm.”  Kustaa set Zuko down in his pile of furs, then pulled out a scroll.  He scribbled something on it.  “I’m keeping a log of each time Zuko acts his current age.”

              “Do you think that might help return him to normal, or at least figure out how the spirits did this to him?”

              “It might,” Kustaa said with a shrug.  He put the scroll away.  “I’m trying to collect as much information as I can.  Some of it might be helpful, most of it probably won’t be.  But we’re in uncharted waters, Chief.  I can’t risk deciding a piece of information wasn’t relevant enough to be noted.  It might end up crucial.”  Kustaa gently tucked Zuko in, covering him with the blanket he’d worn around the ship before getting better clothes.  “Hopefully, we’ll come across a waterbending healer at some point.”  The healer looked up, meeting Hakoda’s eyes squarely.  “As far as I can tell, that’s the only way we might be able to return Zuko from a grumpy toddler to a grumpy teenager.”

              “That’s the only way?”

              “Well, there is the possibility that the spirits might decide to stop this test or punishment or whatever it is.  But that’s a very slim chance.”  Hakoda nodded.

              “I’d agree with that.  Tell him to find me when he wakes up.  I’ll give him a new task to do until dinner.”

              “Depending on how much you wore him out,” Kustaa said, “he might not wake up before then.  But if he does, I’ll send him your way.”

              Hakoda exited the infirmary, only to be promptly accosted by Toklo.

              “Chief, did Zuko really play with a bunch of other kids?” Toklo asked, starry-eyed.

              “Yes.”

              “Aw, man!  I wish I was there!  I bet it was adorable.”

              “…It was,” Hakoda said after a moment.  Toklo groaned loudly.  A weight settled in Hakoda’s stomach.  With the chaos of Zuko being touched by the spirits, Hakoda hadn’t had time to tell Toklo about his brother.  He hated to ruin Toklo’s good mood.  But he couldn’t delay it any longer.  “We need to talk,” he said softly, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

              “We do?”

              “Yes.  Come with me.”

----- 

              Zuko sat next to the mast, his arms crossed, desperately trying to stay awake. He didn’t need to go to bed as early as the Chief kept forcing him to, and he was determined to prove it.  His eyes drooped closed.  When someone sat next to him, he snapped his eyes open again. He looked at the person joining him.

              “Oh.  Hello, Toklo.”  Toklo nodded. He was visibly shaken.  Zuko cocked his head, confused and concerned. “Are…are you all right?” he asked finally.

              “…No, little prince.  I’m not.”

              “Oh.”  Zuko placed his annoyingly minute hands in his lap and looked down at them. “Why?”  Maybe it had something to do with why Toklo didn’t join everyone else for dinner.  Toklo never passed up the chance to have Zuko sit in his lap while they ate.

              “Did you know?” Toklo asked quietly, drawing Zuko out of his thoughts.

              “Know what?”

              “About my brother.”

              “You have a brother?”

              “Yeah.  And he’s- he’s-”  Toklo’s face contorted.  “The Fire Nation captured him,” he said in a thick voice.  Zuko’s heart plummeted.  “They tortured him and then they- they killed him.”

              “I- I-”  Zuko was at a loss for words.  He looked around for some guidance.  Everyone on deck was determinedly not watching them.  He swallowed and put his hand over Toklo’s.  “I’m sorry.”  Toklo choked back a sob.  “Do you- do you want to go somewhere less out in the open?” he asked finally.  He couldn’t stand the idea of Toklo losing any dignity over this.  Toklo nodded and stood.  Zuko got up as well.  He took Toklo’s hand and led him belowdeck.

              Those on the deck waited a reasonable time before going down as well. The first to stumble across Toklo and Zuko was Panuk.  They were curled up in Toklo’s hammock, Toklo holding onto Zuko the same way Zuko had held Seal Jerky the first day of being spirit touched.

              “Should we move him?” Panuk asked Kustaa.

              “He’ll be fine for now.  The first time he gets up to pee, he’ll go to the infirmary,” Kustaa said with a shrug. Panuk looked at him.

              “The first time?”

              “Oh, he’s been waking me up at least twice each night so that I can take him to the latrine.”  Kustaa snorted softly.  “At least we don’t have to get dressed and then walk through the snow in the dark like back home.”

              “Yeah.”  Something contemplative flashed across Panuk’s face.  “Zuko wouldn’t be happy if he had to do that.”  He watched Zuko and Toklo sleeping.  Kustaa finally sighed.

              “I’m going to get one last thing to eat before bed.  Do you want anything?” he asked.  Panuk shook his head.  “All right.  Sleep well, kid.”

              “There’s an actual child on the ship, and you’re still going to call me ‘kid’?” Panuk asked.  Kustaa chuckled.

              “Look on the bright side.  At least you don’t have people mothering you like Zuko does.”

[collecting-stories]

The Final - ep. 06 - JJ Maybank

A/N: We reached the end of the line BUT if you guys would like to see a “epilogue” chapter let me know. 

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“A hook-up!?” Sarah practically screeched, standing in the upstairs bedroom that JJ and Pope had been ‘sharing’ during their week in Florida. Despite your request that they pack up and go JJ had barely even started to put things in his suitcase and Pope had fled the room the minute Sarah had appeared in the doorway, leaving all his things in piles on his bed. “That’s all it was to you? Just a random hook-up? God JJ-”  

“What do you want me to say Sarah?” JJ asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.  

“You seriously felt nothing? That whole time? Two whole fucking years and it meant nothing to you.” She asked, “I meant nothing to you?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry? Fantastic. Well that just makes it all better.”  

“What do you want me to say?” He repeated, louder this time, “that I loved you? I didn’t. God, I wasn’t even there most of the time I was so blacked out and you know that!” 

“You’re a fucking douche!” Sarah spit out, clenching her fists to try and calm herself down. She wanted to have this conversation and she wasn’t going to lose control during it.  

“I’m well aware.” 

“You knew how I felt. I told you it was getting harder to be with John B, you knew I-”  

JJ cut her off before she could finish the sentence, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t feel that way.” 

“Why wait so long then? Why not break it off the first time I told you I wanted to be with you?” She asked.  

He shrugged, “when you told me last month, when I knew you were serious, I don’t know...it cut through all the haze and I knew I had to end it.” He knew it sounded terrible to say but it was the truth. Most of the time he’d spent sneaking around with Sarah he’d been drunk or high off his ass, barely in his own mind, just trying to numb whatever pain he felt when he was sober. And it had worked for a while but when Heyward offered him a bed and JJ tried to earn it by getting his act together. That light switch that went off when Sarah had told him she was falling in love with him had ruined their relationship but it had saved his life and he felt like an asshole for that.  

“Glad I could help.”

“Sarah,” JJ stressed, running a hand through his hair.

“I guess you’re all better now huh? You can just shit all over my feelings and then date my friend.” Sarah snapped. 

“It’s not like that.”  

“You told me you couldn’t be someone’s boyfriend but I guess it was just me.” 

“I should’ve been honest with you-” JJ admitted.  

“That you were just using me? Yeah you should’ve!” 

“Don’t turn this around like I’m the only one at fault!” He was trying so hard not to get angry but she just kept up with the attacks. And he knew he deserved it and that he’d been awful to her but he couldn’t help getting defensive. She wasn’t innocent in this.  

“I told you I didn’t love John B and I wanted to be with you-”  

“Don’t I have great timing.”  

Both of them turned to the door to see John B standing there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest.  

“John B-“

“Kiara said you were here...I wanted to talk to you.” He said, staying in the doorway as he watched his best friend and his girlfriend look at each other, guilt eating at their expressions, before looking back at him.  

“Yeah, lets...uh...let’s talk.” Sarah stepped toward him and John B pushed off the door frame to back up into the hallway. He had come up here to see if there was anything left to salvage of his relationship with Sarah but he was quickly realizing that there wasn’t. If the first person she came to see when she got to the house was JJ then it was clear her and John B had nothing left.  

“Yeah...I think I got my answer.” He replied.  

“Look man.” JJ stood up as if to move closer to John B as well.  

“Just shut up JJ. You always have to fuck everyone over don’t you?” John B said, putting a hand up to stop his best friend from coming closer to him.  

“Me?” JJ almost laughed in anger, “You must be fucking joking. If you don’t make every fucking thing about you-”

“Guys! Stop.” Sarah stressed, stepping in between the two of them.  

“I’m going home, by the way.” John B announced. You hadn’t gone back to Topper’s last night but you hadn’t been home either. Instead you and John B had spent the night walking around the beach together and talking. He had told you that he planned to go back today anyway, there was no point in sticking around to finish off a vacation with people he didn’t even want to see.  

“You’ve got the car man, how are we supposed to get back-” JJ started to say, realizing that if John B left them, he was stranded.  

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before the two of you fucked up what was supposed to be a great fucking week.” John B said. He shook his head before he headed back down stairs, leaving JJ and Sarah alone once more. As he came down into the kitchen you were there with Pope eating breakfast.  

“You okay?” You asked, noting the absolute wrecked expression on his face.  

“Ask JJ and Sarah.” He said, waving his hand toward the stairs.

“They’re upstairs?” Pope asked. He’d seen Sarah come in but he figured she was headed up to talk to Kiara.  

“Of course.”  

Upstairs, Sarah stood at the door of the guest bedroom. She turned toward JJ, pissed that he’d ruined whatever chance she had of possibly talking to John B about what happened. “I can’t believe-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Sarah, don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who played petty fucking mind games.” JJ said.  

“Cause you didn’t?”  

“Look. I’m fucking sorry okay? I’m sorry I didn’t like you and I didn’t just say that. And I’m sorry that I like her, I just do. And whatever shit you pull won’t change that. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you but I can’t keep lying to her.” JJ stressed.  

“Just get out.”

“I’m sorry Sarah.” JJ sighed, sounding for the first time like he actually meant it. 

☼

With Kiara leaving to find John B and Sarah heading back to Topper’s after her shouting match with JJ, you headed up to your bedroom, tossing all of JJ’s stuff on the bed to dump in the guest room. He’d practically moved himself in during the week and you were in the process of moving him back out.  

“There you are...I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” JJ’s voice caught your attention and you turned to see him standing in the doorway. You grabbed your phone off the nightstand and tried to edge passed him but he grabbed your arm. “Hey, come on, don’t leave please. Can we just talk?” 

“I really don’t want to talk to you JJ.” You said, pulling your arm away but stepping back into the room.  

Despite your words you really did want to talk to him. There was so much you wanted to ask him about what happened and why he didn’t just come clean with you right away. You’d been as honest with him as you’d ever been and he couldn’t pay you the same curtesy, it felt like a punch in the stomach to know that he’d been fooling around with your best friend just weeks ago and neither of them had said anything to you about it. But you knew that you cared about him, that whatever had happened between the two of you this week had been real and you wanted so badly to trust him.  

“Could you at least clue me in on what happened Thursday that has you sending us packing?”  

“Could you clue me in on how long you and Sarah were sleeping together behind John B’s back?” You replied, noting the way he looked anywhere but you. “That’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to!” 

“I broke it off with Sarah before we came down here. She wanted to break up with John B and I told her it was a waste of time...that I didn’t want to be her boyfriend.” JJ explained. He ran a hand through his hair before continuing, “I just liked having sex with her.”

“Lovely.”  

“I know I sound like a douche okay? We hooked up at some kook party before she was even with John B and next thing I know he’s introducing her as his girlfriend! What was I supposed to do?” He argued.  

“Maybe...stop having sex with her. I mean...what the actual fuck is wrong with the three of you?”

“It was just...something easy. I wasn’t in a great place.” JJ said. It was true, he’d said the same thing to Sarah. He had been going through hell the last two years and it wasn’t fair to her but she had gotten caught in the whirlwind of self-destructive behavior that he had been creating in his life.  

“And now you’re so much better?” You asked, almost genuinely curious. How could he be better in just a month? And that was the real problem underneath it all. You couldn’t take the heartache if he threw you away too. If he decided this was all just some fun for the first week of summer you weren’t sure you would be able to recover from that.  

“You know what it’s like,” he insisted, “you stayed with Rafe.” 

“Fucking your best friend’s girlfriend isn’t the same thing!” You snapped, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. “I hated myself when I was with him-”  

JJ cut you off before you could finish your sentence, “and I felt awesome? The only reason I kept it up was because I felt like shit most of the time! The only good thing I’ve done in the past few years was break it off with Sarah.” He admitted. “Look I...I’m sorry I wasn’t up front with you but it happened before I knew you.” 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear the truth from John B because he figured it out. I wanted to hear it from you or Sarah. You could have told me-”  

“So you could react like this? Run off to Topper and kick us all out.” He argued.  

“At this point Topper is the closest thing to a best friend I’ve got considering the one I thought I had stabbed me in the back.” You replied. Sarah was just as much a player in all of this as JJ was,  “this is so messed up.” 

“Trust me, I know.”

You sighed, taking a seat on the bed. You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, “I really like you; I feel safe with you and happy and...and now I feel like that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does!” 

A million things ran through your head but the one question you’d been asking yourself since John B told you that it wasn’t just a one-time deal came out, “how do I know you won’t cheat on me?” 

“I wouldn’t! I swear to god, I know it’s shit what I did but it’s different with you.” 

“Oh my god, you sound like every fucking cliche ever!” You laughed bitterly, looking away when JJ came to sit next to you.  

“I don’t know what else to say! I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“I don’t want you to tell me anything other than the truth.”

“Fine. Yeah, Sarah and I fucked the majority of the time she and John B dated. It’s been a really bad few years and I know that’s not an excuse okay but I needed to do something or I was gonna kill myself.” He admitted, “and honestly, Sarah wasn’t the only girl I fucked. But it didn’t matter...none of it meant anything but-”

“I don’t-”

“Let me finish. You want me to tell you so let me tell you. You know what you’ve heard about me...let me tell you the truth.” JJ said, “I know it sounds like a come on but when Sarah told me she wanted to break up with John B I don’t know like...I realized how far into it I was and I told her I didn’t want to do the boyfriend thing.” 

“But now you do?” You asked honestly.  

“Yes. Yes, that’s what I’m trying to tell you! I know I’ve been a fuck up lately and I’m not gonna change overnight but I want to be your boyfriend. I know it sounds like a lie but you have to believe me!” 

“I have to?” You chided, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, you have to!” JJ stressed, “cause I don’t fucking know what to do if you don’t.” 

He’d come down here expecting to have the worst week ever, sequestered at a beach house with Sarah and instead found himself spending every waking moment with you. That first night on the beach with you had been the first time in two years when he didn’t feel like he was drowning in his own head. He’d barely smoked the whole week and hadn’t bothered with drinking as much as he usually did.  

“JJ I-”

“I know what I did was fucked up and I’m not asking you to forget it and I’m not saying that I’m ‘fixed’ or whatever. All I’m saying is that from the second you walked up to me on the beach it was like all that shit was worth it. I don’t know if you feel that way too but...I meant it when I said this wasn’t some stupid s’week thing. I don’t-“ 

“I know.” You sighed. You knew exactly what he was feeling because you were feeling the same way. As much as it hurt to know that he and Sarah had been together before this and that both of them had lied to you, Sarah trying to sabotage your relationship, you didn’t want to walk away from it all.  

“What?”

“I know how you felt...I felt the same way. I had such a crush on you and then Sarah said you guys were coming down here and all the sudden you were interested in me and it was different than...it wasn’t like I was with Rafe and I’ve been really happy.” 

“So don’t make me leave...please.” He pleaded.

“I just wanted you to be honest with me. I told you about Rafe, I told you John B kissed me. You stood there and lied to my face when I was yelling at Sarah. And she covered for you because she likes you that much...JJ, I flipped out on her yesterday because of all this and she let me just so I didn’t find out.” You said, the past two days events sinking in.  

“I already talked to her...afterward.” JJ replied.  

“But I didn’t.” You hadn’t spoken to her since you yelled at her yesterday and you knew that you couldn’t leave it like that. JJ was important to you but not more important than Sarah. “I like you, you know that. I’m pissed at you for not being honest with me and I don’t know what to do right now, my head feels like it’s gonna explode.” 

“Just...give me next week. Please.” 

“Maybe.” You said, “I need to talk to Sarah.” 

☼

You thought that you knew exactly what you wanted to do. Not forget everything that happened but move on from it, or begin to at least. You hadn’t lied to him, the week you’d spent, the good parts, had been amazing and you would give anything to relive them. You wanted to try over with JJ but you needed to make things right with Sarah before you could do anything.  

“Here to yell at me some more? Cause I’ve heard it from just about everyone.” Sarah commented as you came into her room at Topper’s place. It seemed like everyone was packing today, herself included, desperate to get away from Florida and the travesty of S’week.  

“No,” you shook your head, walking further into the room, “here to apologize.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it wasn’t about some dumb hook-up, it was about someone that you thought you had a real connection with and I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me about it.” You said. “You’re my best friend and you should always feel like you can tell me anything.”  

“I know how bothered you were when I started seeing John B behind Topper’s back...I just didn’t want that same judgmental look every time I told you about me and JJ. I thought it would be easier to lie.” Sarah admitted, “besides...I knew you liked him.”

“I’m sorry I was such a shitty friend.” 

“It’s whatever.”

“It’s not. Regardless of this week or any past crap, you’re my best friend always. And your friends are cool, I love Kiara and Pope and, you know, bad circumstances but John B is pretty cool too.”

“He’s a great guy.” Sarah replied. “I didn’t mean it, when I said JJ wouldn’t go for you.” 

“Yeah I know that now. Sorry I flipped out on you.” 

“You didn’t know.” Sarah shrugged, dropping some clothes into her suitcase before turning to look at you, “I didn’t want anyone to know, they’re JJ’s friends first. Kiara and Pope haven’t even talked to me.” 

“They’ll come around.” You said, believing it entirely. You knew Sarah was a hard person to love but that didn’t mean it was impossible. “And no matter what shit goes down or how pissed I am in the moment just know that I’m your friend first.” 

“I know...lapse in judgement I guess.” Sarah said, shaking her head. “JJ really likes you, if it’s worth anything at this point.” 

“I really like him, I don’t know what to do.” You admitted. “I know you like him too, I’m sorry.” 

“I think I just liked the feeling that someone wanted me and didn’t expect me to be anything more than a moment. Topper wanted to know everything about me and that freaked me out and John B was so intense...it was fun at first but then it was the same thing. He wanted to know me, to see all the parts of me.” Sarah replied. She’d always been afraid of giving herself away entirely, afraid that if she was totally honest with someone and let them really know her, they would leave. “JJ just didn’t care. Sex didn’t have to mean anything other than that. We didn’t have to talk after or hold each other and he didn’t care what made me anxious or happy or who I was...it was just sex. And I think I confused it for something else.” 

“I’m sorry that you felt like that and I couldn’t see it.” 

“It’ll be okay. I’ve been sitting up here trying to remind myself that I’ll be out of the OBX in August and there’ll be new people and I won’t feel stuck. I can like someone new who doesn’t know anything about me. I can be anyone.” 

“I prefer you just like this.” You laughed.  

“Even with the fuck ups?” 

“Especially with the fuck ups.” You said. “I have plenty of my own.” 

“I shouldn’t have involved Rafe, you’re right...I know what he did and I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. I wanted JJ’s attention again. But I should’ve never put you in that situation.”  

“I’m not mad at you...I’m just...I don’t know. I’m tired. Or something. Sad I guess? That all this happened...that I thought everyone was having a good time and they weren’t.” 

“You were. And JJ. And Pope and Kiara too, until I went a little crazy.” Sarah laughed, though not in a funny way, “I thought we’d get down here and he’d change his mind about breaking it off but then he started hanging out with you. And you guys just...I don’t know. It clicked I guess.” 

“Yeah but I ignored you. I should’ve realized something was wrong. You’re my best friend, I should’ve never put some guy over you.” 

“Me either.” 

You nodded slowly. “We still gonna be roommates in August?”

“Of course. I don’t think I could room with anyone else honestly.” Sarah replied. She couldn’t imagine anyone else putting up with her shit. She paused for a moment, knowing that she had to make this right with you and JJ before she left. “You should give him another chance. I wasn’t wrong ya know? When I said you too weren’t just ‘hanging out’, I think it’s something serious and I’ll...I’ll move on.” 

“I guess you won’t stay?” You asked, avoiding her comment about JJ.  

“I’m gonna head to Nassau with Wheezie for a couple weeks, I think it’ll be good for me to be away. Just be with family.” 

“Well I’m always family too, so don’t hesitate to call or text or whatever, I’m always on the other end.” You promised.  

☼

Though you didn’t say it to her the conversation had cleared your head considerably, as had the walk to and from Topper’s house to your grandparents. The day felt incredibly long and all you really wanted to do was go up to your room and sleep but you knew there were still questions hanging in the air.  

“Would it be totally crazy if I asked you to stay an extra week?” You asked, coming into the kitchen to find Kiara and Pope there. You knew you must sound nuts to them, throwing them out and then asking them to stay. The week had dissolved into one drama after the next and you were craving that summer vacation you’d been picturing in your head all year. Cute boys, beach days, parties, no worries at all. 

“Just us?” Pope asked, skeptical as ever. He was JJ’s best friend so he’d never do anything to compromise that. He’d been down in the trenches with JJ plenty of times and he’d always be loyal to his friend. 

“JJ too.” You clarified. 

“I might head back home with John B...make sure he’s alright.” Kiara replied, when Sarah told her what had actually happened all she could think was how much John B must’ve been hurting. She’d been skeptical of them getting together but all she really wanted was her friends to be happy and she thought they were. “I’m not really ready to forgive quite yet.” 

“I get that.” 

“I really thought it’d be like, college that put a wrench in the whole ‘pogue lyfe’ thing...not JJ sleeping with John B’s girlfriend.” Pope sighed, obviously a little less angered by the whole ordeal.  

“Apparently there should be a ‘no pogue on kook macking’ clause.” You replied and Kiara laughed despite the situation, nodding her head in agreement. 

“It’ll cool down. They’ve always been competitive. I think they just need some time away from each other.” Kiara said. She’d been thinking about nothing else all night. Had she noticed that JJ and Sarah were hooking up. They were her best friends; how could she not have noticed?

“Well if JJ does, and you guys swear I won’t be spending a week third-wheeling it, then I’ll stay. Free vacation is free vacation.” 

“That’s the spirit.” 

“He’s on the beach, by the way.” Kiara supplied. 

The beach outside your house had become a catalyst for the summer. You walked the familiar path out to the end of the fencing where JJ sat, far away from the actual shoreline and the people who had clustered to the beach for vacation. You stopped behind him, feet sinking into the sand. 

“This feels familiar.” You said, taking a seat beside him on the sand. He hadn’t bothered with a blanket or towel, obviously coming out here spur of the moment.

“Did you get to talk to Sarah?” He asked, digging his feet further into the sand as if it would cover him up entirely if he tried hard enough. 

“Yeah, it was good.” You replied. “I don’t...I don’t want to be that person who just lets people do whatever and forgives them cause I’ve been that person before and hated myself because of it. But I also don’t want to just leave this like it is. I like the way I feel with you and I want to feel that way all the time.”

“I know I fucked up, at least let me make it right with you?” 

“That’s why I came out here. I want you to stay. Kiara said she’s heading home with John B and Sarah’s going to Nassau with Wheezie...stay here with me?” You asked, “And Pope.”

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously I want you to stay or seriously Pope will be here?”  

“Both,” he couldn’t help laughing, “Pope is staying?”

“I asked Kie to stay too but she said she’s heading up with John B...I felt weird asking him.” You had spent plenty of time with John B in the last 24 hours, condensing the week you missed out on his company into a day and you knew, given the opportunity, that the two of you could be really good friends. Maybe you would be, once you were back in North Carolina and only when you could hang out alone. It would take time before JJ and John B were hanging again like they used to.  

“I don’t think we’re there yet.” 

“You’ll get there. I just, would rather have you here. So Kie is going with him but Pope said he would stay.” You explained. You liked John B but you weren’t trying to date him.  

“I want to stay. And when we do leave, I want it to be together.”  

You finally let yourself lean against him, feeling the comforting weight of his arm as it wrapped around your shoulders. He pressed a kiss against the side of your head as you tucked yourself into him, closing your eyes for a moment to just feel everything that was going through your head. It certainly wasn’t perfect or easy but it was something and it was something you planned on holding on to for as long as it was good.  

-

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[caligobeltrao]

Brahms with an S/O who knits

So I rewatched The Boy... head empty, only Brahms. And apparently he’s the only one I flipping write for I’m sorry I swear I want to write for more people... Also my inbox is empty so if you have requests... please send them? <3 

SO first and foremost, let’s set the scene. You have just been hired as a nanny in the English countryside for a doll named Brahms, there’s no cell service and no wifi, so tbh it’s a great time to knit. 

You fall into his routine quickly, and add your own little knitting breaks in where you can, mostly at night or during music time. 

You start out with small, simple stuff; things you know how to make really easily and don’t take up too much brain space, like dishcloths or a plain garter stitch scarf (or two... or ten...). Things you’ve made a thousand times before. Things that you don’t really take notice of if they go missing. 

Of course they do, but it’s easy to chuck a scarf you’re not going to wear in a drawer and then forget you ever made it. 

It is a little more noticeable when you decide you want to gift Malcolm a particular thing you’ve made (since there’s really nobody else to give things to around here) but can’t find the one you had in mind. 

Which, side note, if it is something like a scarf, he would wear it at every grocery drop off he does from then on. You can’t change my mind. 

But obviously that gets boring. Eventually you ask Malcolm if with his next grocery run he could bring you the yarn you’d want to make a nice blanket. The manor can get chilly, after all, and he agrees. 

When THAT goes missing, you definitely notice. And, assuming you get the warning that Brahms is playful, you can ask for it back and you’ll find it neatly folded up on his bed the next day. Which is when you decide to start making things for Brahms. 

It’s perfect! It’s a judgement-free way to practice your skills, AND you can make you and the doll matching sweaters. How fucking cute is that??? 

Malcolm thinks this is... slightly more odd. Worrying, maybe. Especially if you, like me, would have taken to treating the doll like a real child from the get-go. 

But you’re keeping yourself busy, he can’t fault you for that lol. 

Anyway, Brahms LOVES this turn of events. He loves seeing you and him (his effigy at least) in matching sweaters! He loves the little socks you knit for him, especially his new sleep time socks! He loves how proud you are when you slip his little knitted cap and scarf and gloves on! 

What he doesn’t like is when something is new or difficult for you and watching you rip out your work because you dropped a stitch, or looking at a previously finished work a few weeks later and deciding you hate it so you rip it out or just throw it away if you don’t think you can salvage the yarn. 

Well... he doesn’t mind you throwing them out, so much, because he’ll just... snatch that right up. It’s your work! You made it for him and it’s beautiful! How dare you be so critical on yourself! >:( 

Even worse is the disappointment the first time you try to knit him a sweater and you measured the doll incorrectly so it doesn’t fit. :( He hates seeing you sad. 

Back to your perspective though, it’s much nicer to have someone (something) to knit for. Plus, he has to wear and appreciate your items. He’s a doll, he’ll wear whatever you put on him and in your mind, he loves it lol. So there’s no chance of the resentment or anger or disappointment you get when you make something for a family member and they just never use it. 

You also knit him his own blanket for his bed, which real Brahms obviously takes immediately. That’s what started all of this, after all. And you would take the time to stitch a little B on one of the corners, to make it all his. 

You aren’t surprised by it going missing. In fact, you’re happy that Brahms likes your things. Like I mentioned with the disappointment, you’ve most likely felt this before in your life, so it’s odd that a ghost (as that’s honestly the least weird conclusion here) appreciates what you do more than some of the people you know. 

Also imagine knitting with the doll on your lap. 🥺 Cute. Cute cute cute. 

But then you meet real Brahms. And that’s weird, like I know there’s a lot weird here, but you can’t just make a seamless transition into this, there’s an adjustment period, so you stop knitting. 

Which he Does Not Like. 

Like sir??? What did you expect? 

Well he expected everything to be the same but it’s him and not the doll, really. 

Which he makes pretty obvious fairly quickly. He wants a matching sweater, and he asks you outright. “You make such pretty things... can I have one? Please? I’ve been very good.” 

So of course you do. You decide to take a pattern and color you already made for you and the doll and make it for him, so the three of you could match. Which is weird in and of itself, but adult life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen. 

And that starts a new cycle. 

He loves that he can now show you appreciation for the items you make him. He can thank you much easier, no worries of frightening you with a disembodied voice from a “ghost.” He can wear what you make, and he does, all the time. He’ll give you kisses too, since you’re being good. 

And he’s always excited every time you gift him something new, like it’s never happened before, as if he HASN’T seen you working on it for the past month. Each and every time, he has such love and joy in his heart and he will Let You Know damn it. 

Legit always has something you made on. If it’s warm, he has a light cardigan you made. If it’s cold, a sweater and his blanket. And either way he’ll have a pair of your socks on. Nonnegotiable. 

Honestly he gets super worried if you go to wash his things. What if it falls apart? You assure him you know what you’re doing, but it still takes probably six to seven washes for him to get less tense about something going in the washing machine. 

You will never be able to toss out anything ever again. Dropped stitch? A tie come undone and it’s unraveling? A few weeks of looking at it making you wanna cry? Just doesn’t look like you wanted it to? Nope! It’s Brahms’s now. And he’ll love it and cherish it as if it’s the only gift you’ve ever given him. 

Literally no room for you to be insecure about the things you make. Only love. You’d think he’d get tired or bored of it, but it’s a physical representation of time and care you’re putting into him and his care. He clings to that. 

The only time he won’t interrupt you for your attention is when you knit. Because he understands that’s also a type of attention. He does like to be in the room with you when you do it though. And you can get him to read while you do it, so that’s nice. 

He will be a little jealous/salty about anything you’ve given Malcolm though lol. 

[thrillridesz]

the story of us ▫ eric

➳ pairing: ex husband and father!eric x fem!reader ➳ genre: angst, slight fluff ➳ word count: 3.8k ➳ requested?: yes

a/n: this is written as a part two to this timestamp!

Eric peered nervously at his watch, frowning as he watched the time tick by the second.

Just where were you? It was already nearing eight and the two of you were supposed to meet at seven in the restaurant. The dinner plans had been made over a week ago when he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out for a meal. Moreover, the restaurant he had picked required a special reservation given how popular it was and frankly, Eric was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable by the minute in a fancy restaurant like this one.

People were starting to cast sympathetic glances in his directions, murmuring amongst themselves about the man sitting alone at the table, no doubt making their own speculations about him as the lonely guy stood up by his date. Eric felt his shoulders sag and disappointment seep in. Were they going to be right about their speculations after all?

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart, he whipped out his phone and texted Sangyeon.

i don’t think she’s coming. this is a mistake.

The response was almost immediate.

wait, she’s not there yet??

no

that’s kinda messed up, she stood you up?

i don’t know, i think so

There was a pause while Eric awaited Sangyeon’s response, downing a glass of wine in an attempt to hide his sadness.

man, i’m rly sorry to hear that :/ do you wanna just come over and hang? there’s a crazy match going on today, we can get some beer too

Staring despondently at his phone, Eric bit his lip anxiously, feeling a lump starting to form in his throat. Were you really standing him up? He briefly recalled your reaction when he had asked you out for dinner over the phone after he had coaxed his daughter to sleep that day. He had been a ball of nerves and if it wasn’t for Sangyeon’s encouragement, he would never have had even thought about asking you out.

“I don’t know if I can do this. What if she says no?”

“Then you take it like a man. Either way, you have nothing to lose if you try and everything to lose if you don’t.” Sangyeon replied and Eric could hear the audible sigh in his voice.

As he paced the empty living room, he said, “I mean... You have a point but this is y/n we’re talking about. My ex wife. You don’t just call up your ex wife for dinner.”

“You don’t?” came the reply as a distant crash sounded from the other end of the line followed by a screech so sharp that made Eric wince in pain.

“No, stop that! Taeil, give your sister back her doll right now! Sorry, give me a moment.” 

“Wait-”

Sangyeon didn’t even wait for his response before leaving the phone call on hold and Eric could only glare at his cellphone in irritation. Shaking his head, he sunk into the couch and rubbed at his temples. All of this on top of work was giving him a mighty headache. As he pressed his fingers to the side of his head and rubbed, he suddenly remembered how you would always give him a back massage after a long day at work back when the both of you were still a married couple. Gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder, Eric longed so badly to feel your hands on him that his heart hurt. How did things go so wrong?

Looking up, a small picture frame next to the television caught his eye. It was a picture that the two of you had taken on the day he proposed to you years ago. The happiness in your eyes was unmistakable as you held up your hand pridefully, the ring shining brightly on your finger. His arm was looped around your waist as the two of you leaned in for the picture, the love the two of you had for each other obvious even in a still image. It had been ages since he had been able to hold you like that or even seen you smile that radiantly around him. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t give to see it again.

“Hello? Eric?”

Bringing the phone to his ear, Eric tried to keep the sadness out of his voice. 

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, it’s the kids again. They were fighting, tearing the house apart literally. Anyways, you’re going to call her right? Y/n?”

He glanced wistfully at the picture before answering, “I don’t know.”

“You’re still hesitating?” Sangyeon groaned.

“I-” Eric opened his mouth to retort, only to get interrupted by yet another piercing scream from the other end of the call. He could hear soft mutterings of profanities as he stood waiting for the scream to die down.

When it did, he cleared his throat. 

“That’s not very nice, Sangyeon. You know, swearing.”

If it wasn’t possible to feel someone rolling their eyes on the call, he certainly felt it from Sangyeon. 

“If you had children like Taeil and Jisoo, you’d love them to death but also wish they could stop their shenanigans for once,” he replied before adding, “I have to go for real now anyways.”

“Alright.” Eric laughed.

“Call her! Tell me how it went at work tomorrow!” Sangyeon ordered before ending the call, leaving him staring at the phone in the silence of his home.

“Should I?” He thought as his thumb subconsciously scrolled down his list of contacts and hovered over your name. Looking at the time, it was already midnight. Maybe you were already asleep. What if he disturbed you? What if you were in the middle of a shower and couldn’t answer the phone? He would look like an idiot. Tossing the phone aside absentmindedly, Eric looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. It might be for the best if he didn’t call you or ask you out. It’s probably what you preferred.

“Hello? Eric?”

He sprang up from the couch in shock. Was that a ghost? Was he hallucinating or was that your voice calling him? The colour drained from his face as he realised to his sheer horror that he had accidentally tapped on the call button earlier and the call had gone through.

Immediately when the ball dropped, Eric made a beeline for the phone and before he knew it, he was falling forward. As he landed on the floor with loud thud, he mentally cursed himself for being clumsy when you asked, “Is everything ok? I heard a loud noise.” 

Fumbling for the phone, he gasped out, “Yes! Everything is great, I’m really sorry!”

“Um, ok. I just thought I heard a really loud noise. Why did you call anyways? Is there something the little one left behind?” 

Eric bit the inside of his cheeks as he thought hard for an appropriate response. What is he going to say? Yes and make up a lie about something stupid? Or... 

“Ask her out?” He whispered under his breath.

“What was that?”

Eric almost wanted to slap himself for saying his thoughts out loud and he frantically backtracked, “Nothing! I was just wondering...” He trailed off as the picture caught his eye again. 

This could be his chance to salvage everything and shoot his shot for another opportunity to get back the life he had left behind. Briefly recalling what Sangyeon had said, his grip on the phone tightened as he debated.

Either way, you have nothing to lose if you try and everything to lose if you don’t.

“Will you go out with me for dinner?”

When the question escaped from his lips, it was too late to take them back. He heard your breath hitch from the other end and a chill ran down his spine. There was a moment of silence and waiting for your reply had been the most nerve wracking couples of seconds of his life. 

“Why?” Your voice was soft and there was a hint of caution in them.

Flustered, Eric fumbled to find the right words to reply. He had expected outright rejection and that single word had thrown him off completely. Deep down, he felt a spark of hope began to bloom. You didn’t give him a straight answer but at least it wasn’t a no although it wasn’t exactly a yes either.

“I... Um... I just thought... Um... Maybe we could just c-catch up on some stuff?” He asked as he screwed his eyes shut, anticipating your answer.

“...Sure.”

Eric almost hurled his phone across the room. 

Shut up. 

Was he dreaming right now? Did you really just say yes? Pinching himself for good measure, the stinging pain did little to dull his uplifted mood. This isn’t a dream after all. He was suddenly filled with such joy, he thought he could explode.

“I-I... That’s awesome! How does friday night next week sound?” 

He could hear the smile in your voice that he had grown to love over the years.

“Friday night sounds lovely.”

Come to think of it, were you hesitating? 

“Did she only say yes because she was too afraid to say no?” He thought to himself, eyes widening in horror. 

“Hey! I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

At the sound of your voice, he looked up and felt a shiver run down his spine. You had always been beautiful to him but today, you looked simply stunning and for a moment, he just stared without moving the slightest bit. You were wearing a gorgeous blue dress that fell gracefully to your knees and although your hair was slightly messy and unkempt, it only accentuated your beauty as wisps of hair framed your face. 

Taking a seat across from him, you barely even noticed his blatant gaping as you settled yourself down.

“I’m so sorry for being almost an hour late. The babysitter was late and the traffic was just insane out there, I hope you’re not mad at me.” You said, laughing softly in embarrassment. “Eric?”

Blinking, he snapped out of his daze and his cheeks turned pink. 

“Oh! It’s no worries, I completely understand.” A wide grin tugged at his lips as straightened his tie, suddenly conscious of how he looked in front of you. The patrons had stopped whispering and had gone back to their meals, the sheepish expression on some of their faces plain as day.

As Eric placed his hands on the table, he accidentally knocked over his glass of wine, sending the glass crashing to the ground. Shards of glass skidded across the marble floor as the ruby red wine formed a small puddle. The splintering sounds of glass against the hard floor turned heads and for a moment, everyone stared at the two of you. Some wore disapproving frowns while others simply looked away hastily as a waiter rushed forward to assist.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to,” Eric exclaimed anxiously, internally wishing he could dig up a hole and hide in it. Barely one minute into dinner, he wad already making a fool of himself in front of you and in a fancy restaurant no less. 

The waiter only smiled at him good naturedly before waving away his apologies.

“It’s perfectly alright, sir! This is no problem at all! I’ll go get a mop and a broom.”

Nodding weakly, Eric sat back in his seat with his face downcast. He couldn’t possibly look at you straight in the eye after that blunder he made. An unexpected, soft chuckle made him peek up at you shyly.

“That waiter definitely did not look happy.”

“He didn’t?”

You raised an eyebrow at him quizzically before leaning forward and he briefly caught a whiff of your intoxicating perfume. Roses and jasmines, sweet and subtle just like you.

“Look over there.” You whispered, pointing to a far corner of the restaurant and he turned.

From afar, the disgruntled look on the waiter’s face was vague but it was nothing either of you could miss. Bending over to whisper something in his colleague’s ear, they both peered over in your table’s direction. Quickly, the both of you turned away, pretending not to see.

“Man, I guess it’s not alright after all.” Eric rolled his eyes and you nodded, taking a small sip of water. 

“When you work in the service industry for some time, you’ll notice these stuff eventually.” You replied, smiling kindly at him. 

“Right.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, remembering that you worked as an operations manager for a cafe downtown. There was a moment of silence before he asked, “How’s work?”

“Oh, just...” You waved your hands, “We’re revamping the menu and business is going smoothly. Honestly, there’s nothing much. You?” 

“Um... Nothing much either, I suppose. Some financial reports for the year are rolling in and my clients are-” Eric trailed off. What is he doing, rambling off like that? No, no. He had to backtrack. Talking about work is a bad idea especially since it was the reason why the two of you had separated in the first place. 

“My day was great,” he clasped his hand together on the table before he continued, “It’s nothing much to talk about. I’d rather we just talk about other things besides work.”

For a moment, he thought he saw a look of confusion and surprise flash across your face before you replied, “Oh, alright. I thought you used to have a lot of new work stories every day?”

“Ah no... I don’t. Today, I want to just catch up with you.”

You regarded him skeptically for a moment before you shrugged.

“Sure, I’m up for that. Do you want to order some food first?” 

“I... Okay.” Deflating a little, he pored over the menu. Basic french words were already difficult to understand but throw in some culinary terminologies, Eric was completely lost. Everything was like hieroglyphics to him as he surveyed the menu blankly. 

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” You asked him, without looking up.

Eric stared hard at the menu, so hard until the words were starting to blur together. There had to be something he understood from this menu. Internally, he began to regret choosing this restaurant but then he remembered that you loved french cuisine. 

“It’s worth it if she’s satisfied,” he thought firmly to himself as he flipped over the page. Just how thick was this menu? This could be a library book. By the time the waiter stopped by the table, he still hadn’t made up his mind.

“May I take your orders?”

“Yes, please. I’ll have the soupe à l’oignon,” you replied as you handed the menu back to the waiter. “Have you decided on what you want, Eric?”

“Um...” He hesitated for a moment before pointing at something random on the menu. “I’ll have this.”

The waiter bowed as he left with their orders and you asked, “What did you order?”

Eric felt his face heat up as he stayed quiet. He couldn’t just tell you that he randomly chose, how pathetic would that be? You would see him as a try hard for picking an upscale restaurant with menus in a language he didn’t understand a word of. 

“i just got clams.” He smiled, taking a hasty sip of water. 

“Clams. I didn’t know you liked clams,” You said, looking at him curiously. 

“I thought I’d try something new I guess,” he laughed, fists clenched at his sides. “Anyways, how are things with you lately?”

You sighed and Eric had to resist the urge to reach out and hold your hands in his like he always did whenever you were visibly stressed out. So near, yet so far.

“Oh, things have been alright lately. It’s just that the restaurant is getting busier these days and our daughter is having a school recital soon. Her teacher wanted me to go buy her a dress for it but I haven’t got the time lately.” 

“Recital? What recital?”

“The one happening in September? Did she tell you about it?” You asked, looking at him wide-eyed in surprise. 

“I guess she didn't,” Eric said softly, feeling his stomach churn uneasily. He should have known. Although these days his relationship with his daughter is improving, there are definitely still some things she wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t blame her though, since he had been absent for a large part of her childhood. If only he was so career oriented then.

Your expression softened as you reassured him, “Maybe she forgot. Don’t ponder about it.” He nodded weakly at your words, forcing a faint smile as he gripped on tightly to the tablecloth. You leaving him had been one of the hardest things he ever had to go through but couple that with a lack of a familial relationship with his own flesh and blood? If time travel was possible, he would have went back and given his past self a good beating. 

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice that you had your hands on his. Slowly, his gaze drifted down but before he could hold you, you quickly withdrew your hands. Pushing your hair away from your face, you avoided making eye contact. 

“Y/n-”

“I was just trying to reassure you and make you feel better.” 

It would be a lie if Eric was to say he didn't feel disappointed. The spark of hope in his heart dimmed slightly as he reared back like a wounded child. He tried fervently to ignore the sinking feeling in him as he looked at you. When you turned away, it felt like needles stabbing in his heart. 

“I-”

“Soupe à l’oignon?” The waiter placed a steaming bowl of creamy soup on the table. 

“That’s mine.” You gestured, a grateful look on your face.

When the waiter left, Eric sniffed curiously before pointing out, “Is that onion?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I thought you hated onions. You said once that you’d rather eat crickets than onions.”

“I guess I just started liking them,” you shrugged as you dipped your spoon into the soup. 

Why is he feeling so upset over this?There was a lump in his throat as he croaked out, “When?”

Hearing the tremble in his voice, you snapped your head up to look at him. Seeing the hurt look in those dark eyes of his, you felt your heart fall with a messy splat. You didn’t know why he was feeling that way and you would have tried to coax yourself into thinking that you don’t care but your heart couldn’t help it. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you still cared for him as much as you hated to admit it.

“Eric, are you ok?”

“I... I’m fine. It’s just that...” Millisecond by millisecond, he could feel his restrain crack. He could feel the formidable guard he had built around own emotions starting to shatter. 

“I guess you’re just different from how I remembered. I feel like I don’t know you anymore and that hurts me.” Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Stop talking. “I feel like I’m now a stranger to you and...” He felt his lower lip tremble and tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. 

“And what, Eric?”

He could practically feel his restrain break free as he blurted out, “And I feel like we’re not lovers anymore! I mean, to be fair we’re not... not married anymore but fuck. I still love you. I still love you with all my heart and seeing you and talking to you without being able to hold you or express my feelings... That kills me inside every time. I used to love the fact that we both know each other inside out but it feels like the longer we are apart, the closer I am to losing that. I never meant for the story of us to end this way and I know it was all my fault. I was the one who fucked up. I single handedly ruined the family we had but I’m begging you to give me another chance. Please, y/n. I need this, I need you. Will you give me a chance?”

Everything came out in a rush and by the time he ended his sentence, a single tear was rolling down his cheek. You stared quietly at your bowl of soup, not looking at him and not uttering even a single word. If his heart was broken enough, it certainly was now. 

Taking a deep breath, Eric choked out, “I-It’s fine. I understand if you don’t love me back anymore. If you want to leave, you can. I’ll pay for-”

“Okay.” 

He almost fell out of the chair as he peered at you, alarm written all over his face.

“What?”

You stared him straight in the eye as you mumbled, “I said okay. I’ll give you a chance.”

Did God finally decide to have mercy on him? Are the stars aligning in his favour? Eric couldn’t believe his ears and he had to smack himself to make sure this wasn't a dream. The loud slap rang through the restaurant and several patrons turned to your table as you gasped in shock.

“What are you doing?!”

Feeling the stinging pain on his reddened cheek, he replied dumbly, “Making sure this isn’t a dream.”

You couldn’t fight the giggle that gurgled up within you as you held his arm, “It’s not a dream. Don’t hurt yourself, Eric.”

This is actually happening. To think if he had chickened out, he would never have had this opportunity. He should definitely treat Sangyeon to a meal tomorrow. 

“I... I just can’t believe it. You have no idea how overjoyed I am right now.” His bright grin stretched from ear to ear and you felt yourself almost melt. Maybe you do still have some feelings for him.

As he reached out to hold your hand, you leaned away causing him to look at in a rather bewildered way. 

“If we’re going to do this, we’re starting over.”

The tension in him dissipated quickly as he hurriedly stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

“Alright then. That is completely fine by me! I never want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He grinned, a sparkle in his eyes. “What do you mean by starting over though?”

You pondered over his question for a moment before holding out a hand, which he simply stared at before looking at you with a questioning look.

“Nice to meet you, I’m y/n.” Realisation dawned upon him as he chuckled.

“Wow, you really do mean start over,” he said before reaching over and shaking your hand. “I’m Eric. Eric Sohn.” 

“Rouille de seiche?” The waiter placed a hot platter of what looked like cuttlefish in tomato sauce in front of him.

He gazed at his plate for a moment before he turned back to you. You could barely contain your laughter.

“That doesn’t look like clams to me.” 

“Well, I didn’t understand the menu so I just randomly chose. If there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s the fact that I’m not a huge fan of cuttlefish but I didn’t know that when I ordered,” he smiled at you.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Before Dawn: Bonus Chapter (1)

Helloooooo, alright listen, I re read a choice with no regrets and uhm here is this, a little insight on what has happened a little while before our story began, I'm sure you'll want to see some nice bonding with Isabel

Warnings: just a few teeny little mentions of intercourse

@hidehaskak of course here's your tag❤️

Turtleneck

"Yehawhaww" The moment you appeared at the entrance to the roof Isabel screamed at the top of her lungs in great enthusiasm. You stood silent after you spared her a smuggling nod pacing your eyes between the two men that accompanied her, awaiting for a signal of approval. "I knew I could get you to come! You guys don't mind her hanging out with us right? She's a friend."

At that sound the males finally gave in, letting Isabel close the distance between the both of you. Her significantly smaller arms wrapped around your frame in a pure hearted childish manner and seeing that you towered over her you placed your hands on the small of her back, almost too reassuringly to the males' liking. Their unforgiving gazes burned holes in your whole body with much rage built in for ruining their fun for the night.

You knew you were practically unwanted, but it was for Isabel that you stepped foot on this rooftop to begin with. Tired of her never ending pleas to join her and her so called bros as they looked at the stars and talked about everything and anything you had decided to violate curfew and join her, not them, just her, because you wanted to share some more moments with her. This young little redhead was growing on you in the best way possible, you thought she kind of reminded you of yourself in times where you needed salvage or just a friend with whom you could share your piece of mind and heart.

She wasn't like that at first. Isabel probably resembled a rose, it occurred to you, with her godly youthful looks and her thorn like personality. It was a result from growing up in a trashhole like the underground, among thugs, being forced to build a rough personality if she wanted to survive, it was merciless for her and any other girl down there. But the bubbly side of her personality assured you she was much more than a badass teen who could hand you your ass in any fight, she had a pure heart and you longed to help her feel like she deserved post childhood experiences. But for now, it felt as if your roles had reversed. Sure, you were -if not just as her- bubbly and kind but sometimes you were frustratingly unresponsive and ill faced that it worried her until she got to know you. You hadn't put yourself in a place to talk about you trauma to her; she had her own demons and there was no point in burdening her with your abusive background, but you managed to explain to her that most of your weird and uptight behaviors, most things you could dispose of to become a better person, were curved into you in ways you could share yet. And Isabel, as respectful as ever had assured you it was fine not to be able to share.

Most girls would shut her out due to her formal nature as a thug, much like your friends who at first were adamant about discouraging you to befriend her. They had assumed she wouldn't be able to be nice and kind or to talk like them, but you were against any pretentious act behind her back. Maybe it was due to egoistical motives that you wanted to salvage this little girl, because she reminded her of you, and Nanaba, the only person who fully knew about your situation was taking a stand against this at first. She didn't want you to hurt yourself or the redhead in the process of trying to project your condition on her. But you didn't give up. With Isabel as your new bunkmate you had many chances of getting it right.

"Did you bring what I asked you to?" Isabel hurriedly asked, reaching her hands to make a quest inside the tote bag that you carried. You showed no sign of holding back as you let her peak into the cream colored bind, but only managed to cover your ear as her squeks got louder. "Thank you thank you thank you! Sit down, show me!

Isabel shooed Levi and Furlan apart, placing herself right next to the blond man while tapping her hand on her left side. You followed her smile hesitantly and proceeded to sit down to where her hand was rested a few seconds ago, next to Levi. You felt his eyes ravaging your whole form, up and down as if you were some dirty pig that seeked to rub its mud onto him. When seated neatly enough as to not touch him you proceeded to pry open your tote bag and toss a share of it insides to Isabel.

With a determined face she got a strong hold of the grey colored yarn and the pair of slightly thick needles you had managed to recover for her. "Okay show me, show me!"

"Oh what's that?" Furlan peeked his head over Isabel's shoulder to inspect of the situation.

"It's yarn and needles."

"Ahh, Furlan don't interrupt, (y/n) show me how to cast on!"

"See that's the easiest part, sweetheart." You watched Isabel coo at the support in your tone while she puckered her lips to a cute kid like pout. She followed your slow movements as if you were a goddess, showing her how to create new wolds with her strained hands.

Levi, even though he was suspicious of you, a member of Erwin's team who tried to coax her way into Isabel's life, felt somehow relieved to see that beloved expression on Isabel's face. He had overheard her once, taking to her self in the mirror, wishing she had a lady friend to spend time with and it pained him that she had a feeling of such lack inside her. Therefore your presence was a little soothing in their company. He would be lying if he said he personally didn't like it. After all he had thought you were a beautiful company to Erwin in one of the many times he had come across him in the Underground, silently watching him from the shadows. Not that he was a creep to begin with, it was just his lack and a response to the question of whether you can ever see a stranger twice, that you were actually a scout.

"Where did you learn to do this (y/n?)" Furlan was set to break off Levi's thoughts for one too many times tonight.

"Old mothers are adamant about these things, you know, good girl stuff and all."

"Oh." He began with a flirtatious tone that made both Levi and Isabel turn to him wide eyed "Good girl huh? Every Bad boys dream, including min- ah shit Isabel, ouch!"

The squint in Isabel's eyes was something that you couldn't see and you even ignored it as a matter of fact. Isabel was aware of your teeny crush on Levi, she had gotten it out of you one day during training after she had caught you gawking and drooling at him for doing the bare minimum. It was simply natural for her to get overly excited at the fact. Ever since then she had been convinced that him and you would be a perfect match, that you wouldn't have to be so uptight with him after all but you would always brush her off. It didn't torment you just get, even if his cold gaze somehow tickled your heart at certain times you were perfectly fine with hanging out around him. But there was no point in trying to convince Isabel to give up, not when she practically lived off of you and the male duo. Perhaps that was why she had squinted her eyes so hard at Farlan, she didn't want the couple in her head to be broken apart before it even started.

For the rest of your time with them you barely speak. You were fine with standing there and knitting away your project, a grey ribbed sweater that you had accidentally managed to make huge up to a certain point when you didn't find a purpose in casting off and undoing. You wondered if Isabel really wanted to knit or if it was her excuse to have you hang out with the ravenette since she had seemed to long forget about her needles and was fixated on a bottle of booze, talking away about some merchants in the underground flee market. You figured you should take your leave being to alienated to break their usual trio, you couldn't even keep up with their conversations, not that they cared to include you.

"So if you're all about playing housewife what are you doing here?" Farlan's voice calls out to you almost strained from any actual purpose, he probably knew it was kind of rude on the part to not include you after Isabel had invited you.

You remained silent for a few moments, tilting your head back to stare at the jewel decorated dark sky. Finding the right words for your purpose seemed unbelievably difficult and suffocating but it perhaps was nothing compared to their previous lifestyle.

"I didn't want to die." Two of the three almost fall to instant, bubbling laughter the moment your thoughts longer in the air as actual words.

"And you came here out of all places?" Levi sternly inquired without ever initiating some sort of eye contact.

"I wasn't top of my class, but even if I was I wouldn't go in the MP. I don't want to live a full life as a bastard you know and Garrison, let's say I have my reasons as to not going there."

Something about that bastard themed sentence caused curiosity to twitch inside Levi's chest but he didn't quest on it, oversharing wasn't in his plans to do so with a practical stranger, even if deep down you didn't exactly feel like one. He couldn't be explain that feeling but he could certainly understand what it was that made Isabel so attached to you. Something about your aura was like fresh, dripping honey, unprocessed yet sweet and endearing and overpoweringly strong to the flavor.

"You're not a bastard you had parents right? You just talked about your old mother."

Conveniently, Farlan's words allowed you to shut up and look away, further away from the former thug trio and into the vast horizon that laid before you. You contemplated what was it that enamored everyone outside the walls. With all that death, the scouts corpses that rot every where, you didn't have anything against the walls or life inside, taking down Titans and following orders was therapeutic enough to you as long as you came back to an eventual cup of milk tea and your knitting and embroidering projects. You couldn't bring yourself to give a damn about your future, but you liked fighting for the future of others, maybe somewhere there was a child, just like you, who wanted to get away from an abusive household and start a new life or pick up on experiences they had never lived. These people deserved not to feel caged inside the walls and plus, the nature of the Titans was very much appealing to you due to Erwin and his constant pep talks.

"Wait so how did you end up in Erwin's squad if you're mediocre?" Farlan pushed again, not wanting to let you stay silent for what's worth it.

"Don't forget I'm a veteran. I've outpassed the years a scout is expected to live so Erwin decided to move me to his squad, Mike insisted since we were from the same district."

"Oh so you fucked your way up huh?"

With the corner of his eye Levi watched as your eyes widened in shock. He couldn't possible know about your past, but you didn't seem the tyoe to go around and fuck your superiors so you could earn a higher rank. You were too ignorant to anything, it was prominent that you didn't care about even receiving your own room for serving well all these years.

"How dare you! As if it's something to open your legs for!" There it was, sweet confirmation that you indeed were ignorant.

"Good girl and all huh?"

"Sure."

There was something tense in the air as Farlan flirted, the subtle roll in your eyes, the unusual monotony of Isabel's voice, even Levi has seemed to bring his shoulders towards his collarbones in any attempt to distance his mind off of the unrequited nature of scenery. You weren't flirting back, momentarily he wondered if you even knew how since the sheer blush on your face betrayed your otherwise distinctive spitfire. You acted more childish than Isabel, in a way that you probably didn't realise caught Levi's attention because he didn't mind to spare you a glare, he'd rather keep it to himself.

____

Next time, it was supposed to be Farlan who approached to help you get your foot out of the muddy hole it was stuck to, Isabel squealed profanities at him, but it was Levi who had managed to push past him and the redhead, exposing his self to the cold pouring rain to run towards you. Just how stupid of your team was to leave you in the pouring rain to make your foot in your own?

His mind was at gaze as he sprint, random thoughts filling empty apathetic species that begged for overthinking to take over them. He knew Farlan didn't really like you, he was just trying to such to their plan and keeping you close was in sole purpose of getting closer to Erwin but for Isabel is want like that. She really liked your company, even he enjoyed some of your company at times and they weren't taking any chances with using you.

Moreover and much to his despise, he found himself in a very murky situation with each extension of his foot to your location. Fuck did you really have to look like that? With one leg stretched, toned bottom swaying in the air, strong veiny hands gripping on your knee, mud on the tips of your fingers and hair wet, making wild moves as you flipped your head upwards to get it out of your face. He twitched at the way a small tress stuck to your chapped lips, almost as if you were a goddess of water, a Nereid, as if you were made to be in this drenched state. Small droplets traveled from your chin down your exposed neck, hiding inside the base of your soft grey turtleneck, it was indeed a magnetising scenery, an alluring unraveling play to his eyes but he dared to rip his eyes away. He wondered if anyone could perceive this scene the way that only he did.

"Tch, try not to get that filth on me." He spoke as his sleek palms wrapped around your torso in delicate force, fitting almost perfectly. He closed his eyes. What the fuck was he even thinking? He wasn't even going to stay here for long.

"Wouldn't dream of it, but I beg of you to help before I get sick"

From a distance Isabel watched with teary eyes. A soft feeling of happiness engulfed her whole, not letting her give some form of attention to Farlan who clicked his tongue.

"Whatever Farlan, Levi is finally going to get some action for once. It's not like it's interfering with our mission!" Her brows forrowed at his sight. "He likes her, can't you see?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that if you don't actually tell him"

Her eyes harded at what Farlan had said. Of course, she knew Levi would deny ever laying his eyes on anyone but she wanted to be there to watch him experience falling in love, hell even falling out of it. Farlan should plainly accept that Levi is not always going to be hang up from their group. Sticking together even after their time at the military was a given, but wanting to have lovers and relationships now that they could enjoy their lives? Isabel was eagerly excited for it.

She watched you and Levi as you freed your leg from the muddy puddle, flying over by the force you had both been laboring and falling on too of each other, Levi's face was contorted in anger, fumingly red as he tried not to tell at you and she was definite about his feelings towards you.

Outside and laid with his back in the mud, Levi felt startled in a way he hadn't experienced before. He could faintly feel the tips of your breasts on his chest and he guessed you were using cloth binds since the impact wasn't enough to get him beyond a little flustered, but he could admit that this was embarrassing. He was angry, for being muddy that is, god knows just how much he despised mud and the smell of filthy rain but there was something about the way you straddled him and it touched a little flicker inside of him that told him it was alright to be muddy for a few more seconds, as long as he was underneath you. Despite his lack of experience in romantic or tense moments, he only had had sex a few times that he could count on one hand and he had despised each one for being disgustingly filthy, he definitely could sense the electric field in the air around you.

But as soon as the moment occured and you took your glistering eyes off of his, you pushed strength into your arms, digging your palms in the dirt to lift your self up and he was once again his normal self. With a click if his tongue he slipped from underneath you, denying your open hand that seeked to offer him a little help. He wasn't here for a sappy little romantic adventure, he was here to find those documents and kill Erwin, you were merely getting in the way of his brain functioning properly.

[steverogersnotebook]

Neighbors - Sofa Date

NEIGHBORS

Recovering TJ Hammond and Steve Rogers (between TWS/CW) who try to find comfort on sleepless nights through baking, music, and friendship. An offer to share company and their mutual talents when being alone is just too much leads to friendship.

(my inbox is open for ideas, prompts and headcanons)

NEIGHBORS fluff | gen [platonic friendships] / Steve & TJ Hammond | minor romance TJ & OMC Julian [SERIES of oneshots]

[read on ao3]

A/N: I started this for Valentine’s Day 2017 or 2018. I don’t know what the holdup was, It’s been almost complete ever since. Well, better late than never!! TYSM every one!

The heavy bag landed atop the previous three, in no better shape, all losing their fill through the ruined covers, causing Steve to wonder if he’d ever find something that could stand up to his strength and frustration instead of prematurely exploding.

Though these troubled nights were on the decline with the catharsis of baking and having friends like Sam and TJ, sometimes, baking just didn’t cut it and he was loathe to push himself into his friends’ space - again - and Steve would resort to a little controlled destruction.

Tonight wasn’t going down without a fight. He’d tried to get some rest after the call came telling him that in a few hours they were ‘wheels up’. It had been fruitless and resulted in a run. He’d amped up his speed and set a course for himself that should have done the trick, but after running fast and far, Steve’s run and subsequent shower didn’t put him any closer to a settled state.

Next try, the kitchen, resulting in cookies and fudge. Ordinarily he wouldn’t bother with something like that in the hours before a mission, knowing he’d be gone for an unknown number of days, but tomorrow was Valentine’s day, and he’d yet to figure out what to do for TJ.

Even though TJ wasn’t alone this year for the holiday, it felt like a tradition. He didn’t have many of those left, so it just felt like something he had to do.

Making fudge from his Ma’s recipe had brought both her and Bucky’s sister to mind. The memory of their childlike joys - from sampling the finished product to trying to cut the fudge into shapes with a knife, not just simple boring squares, to entertain Becca - and the rich aroma had provided all the comfort he’d expected.

Clearly, Steve thought as he unwound tape from his wrist, It just wasn’t enough to quell the agitation over the continuing uneventful search for Bucky and the stress of the impending mission.

So that was how he wound up tearing up heavy bags in a dimly lit gym. He really did need to find a new schtick. And he definitely needed a second shower.

Lying across his bed after his shower, unable to relax - still - Steve laughed at his naive expectations. He reached toward the end of his bed to drag his t-shirt to him as he sat up. Steve tugged the thin fabric over his half-dried hair. He stretched the soft, worn fabric hem over the waist of his pajama pants.

“Might as well finish the thing,” Steve’s voice echoed through the quiet space. He shuffled his stockinged feet across the smooth, clean floor. The glow from the light over the stove led him to the frosted confection. Fingers that had sported bruises when he came home, but were now perfectly pink gently tapped at the icing to see if it had set up.

Satisfied with the firm, smooth texture, Steve inspected the box made from cookies for any weak points before filling it with heart-shaped fudge pieces. Overkill? Maybe, but he could laugh it off with TJ. The thought propelled him out the door and down the stairs until he stood in front of TJ’s door, in his pajamas.

Oops.

He wondered if this was the best idea - if it was even ‘proper’. Shoving doubts aside in favor of not spending the next few hours sweating over yet another physical distraction or tossing and turning fitfully, Steve knocked on the door.

---.---

TJ was just putting the finishing touches on the last of the heart shaped cake pops that he’d decided to bravely tackle on his own, when the knock on the door startled him. Well, maybe he could salvage it, he thought as he wiped his fingers on the flour sack towel and headed for the door.

He wasn’t expecting the sight of Steve standing in the doorway wearing brightly colored socks, brown plaid pajama pants, and a stretched out, yet still too small purple t-shirt threw him. He looked -- anxious.

“Steve, you okay? Come in.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d bring this by.” Steve looked around the apartment as he handed TJ a heart-shaped box, made from layers of cookies. “I’m not interrupting?”

“Of course not. Thanks, wow. This is -” TJ lifted the top cookie that doubled as a lid, to see heart-shaped fudge inside the hollowed out cookie box. “Beautiful.”

“Ma’s old recipe.” Steve’s smile was a weak attempt.

“I can’t wait to try it. Come, sit down.”

“It’s Valentine’s day, you must be expecting Julian, I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Valentine’s Day Eve, and nope, not expecting him until tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Steve sighed. His relief was almost as palpable as whatever was troubling him. “TJ, would you mind playing something - I don’t know - mellow?”

TJ didn’t bother asking, again, what might be bothering Steve. He simply made yummy sounds as he set the box on the piano.

They both sat, Steve heavily on the sofa and TJ eased onto the piano bench. His fingers touched the keys and the first thing to come to mind was the tune Steve had requested the night they’d met. The wan smile from moments ago softened and Steve closed his eyes. Two and a half tunes later, Steve sighed before sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. “So, you do have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Me? Other than some iffy cake pops, no, but Julian says he has something planned for me. Miles is with his mom this week.”

“How glad are you that Miles and I broke the ice for you two?”

“Are you still trying to take credit? You know it was my legs and ass,” TJ chuckled.

Steve’s smile eased some more. “I’m glad it’s working out, TJ.” He rubbed his palms up and down the length of his thighs before sitting back against the cushions again. “I’ve got to head out in a few hours.”

“More top secret stuff?” TJ turned away from the piano keys.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “You know, just once I wish I could confide in someone outside of it all.”

“Yeah. Hey, have you considered talking to a therapist?”

“I did think about it. I can’t figure out how it all works now. With everything - I mean with S.H.I.E.L.D. - it had to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. approved doctor. You know, definitely not outside. Then after - who’s qualified? Who’s not a security risk? I’d rather talk to you. You, I trust.”

“That really means a lot, Steve.” TJ couldn’t begin to express how much it meant without losing all dignity. Not that Steve probably thought he had any. “If it gets to be too much, you still could. I know a thing or two about security.

Steve pulled his feet up onto the cushion, the limber bastard looked deceptively small just now.

“Hey, you wanna see what I’ve been trying to do?” TJ knew it was a lame attempt at a topic change, but it was less awkward than a pained awkward silence would be.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve looked over his knees at TJ.

“Steve, are you frightened?”

“No more than usual. Just - when will it stop? I thought it was over when I woke up in this new world. It wasn’t. I thought we were doing something by bringing S.H.I.E.L.D. down. We didn’t.”

“You did, rousting so many corrupt agents and supporters,” TJ lunged forward in his urgent attempt to mollify Steve, nearly toppling the piano bench. “I mean -”

“Thanks, TJ. I know what you mean. There are still cells out there - and it doesn’t feel like we’re ever going to find the end. So -” Steve uncurled from the compact shape and surged to his feet - feigned energy mingling with whatever the serum did to make him quick and agile. He followed TJ to the kitchen. “- What’s your project?”

“Valentine’s gifts for my best friend and my boyfriend.” TJ knew that he still flushed when he said the word, but Steve wouldn’t harass him for it.

“I’d rather be watching Miles for you two to go on your date tomorrow.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Possibly a week. Hopefully just a week.”

TJ plucked away the blob of now hardened icing that had plopped over the edge of the heart “I was doing well, the knock on the door startled me. You think I can salvage it?”

“Yeah. Hey, these look great. If you can get most of that off so that it’s flush, you should be able to give it a little touch-up with the red. Then you can go back to decorating.”

“I was going to do roses, but gave up early on. Hearts are my speed right now. Maybe I can practice roses before Julian’s birthday.”

“Of course you can. Maybe we can figure it out together.” Steve spread his hands across the flat plane of the countertop, “If you’d like.”

“Of course. It’s your fault I even considered this. You should have to do the time.”

“Where are the rejects?”

“Nonexistent,” TJ said, fighting a grin. “Not as in ‘TJ didn’t make any mistakes but this one’ - but as in, ‘I ate them’.”

Steve smiled, shaking his head “I should have known.”

TJ painted red candy coating over the white spot on the damaged cake pop with a surprisingly steady hand, considering how close he was to laughing at them both. “How’s this?” He held the confection towards Steve for inspection.

“You’d have to know about the mistake to find it, but if you’re nervous about it, you could give that one to your best friend and pick out the pristine ones for Julian.”

“Says my best friend.”

“Me?” Steve’s feigned surprise was terrible.

“You don’t go undercover do you?”

“Occasionally.”

“Well, don’t get yourself caught and killed, okay? Cos that was terrible acting. How do you feel about a Valentine’s Eve pizza and movie until you have to take off? Or you’re welcome to crash on the sofa if you just want to unwind.”

“There will be no crashing for many hours,” Steve confided. “I’ve had this nervous energy for several hours, went to the gym. It helped a little. Got home and tried to unwind and now I’m here. Pizza does sound great.”

“So, did you snag yourself a Valentine this year? Anybody going to be disappointed you’re ditching them on the big day?”

“No, I haven’t been looking. If you’d like, I can have Nat give you a call and you two can plot against me?”

“No, hey, if you’re happy - that’s what matters.”

“I sent flowers to Peggy. They’ve moved her back to England. I think I’ll stop by before I come back.”

“Might be just the thing.” TJ picked up his phone to order pizza. “The usual?”

“Hm. Yeah, sounds good. Am I overthinking the dating thing?”

“Probably. It seems like you’re trying to avoid a long-term thing, and in the process you’re missing out on good company and fun things like shows, dinner, and weird but enjoyable adventure dates. I’m not the only person who likes those things, Steve.”

“You’re saying I’ve been using you as a surrogate?”

“People have asked if we’re dating. Even after I started seeing Julian. I don’t mind it, it’s good for my reputation. You’re probably suffering in that department though.”

“I’m willing to take a hit for your burgeoning reputation,” Steve teased.

“That’s why you’re my best friend. Here - bestie - Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Steve took the offered arrangement of cake pops with a warm smile. “Thank you, TJ. You’re not getting any flak from Julian about our friendship, are you?”

“Hell no. He loves that you sized him up both in and out of the Iron Man costume. He was intimidated enough to ask if there was something between us. But I let him know the only competition he has is if he messes up your pastry apprentice.”

“Damn straight,” Steve laughed.

--.--

Music filled the Audi but it might as well have been silent for as much attention Julian paid the noise. His mind was chock full of loneliness. The same thing that he experienced every time he had to drop Miles off at the ex’s.

He tried to think ahead to his Valentine’s plans for TJ. A late brunch, followed by an afternoon and evening on the town. It should be enough to sustain him through the night, but the glaring silence that he’d pretended to look forward to - the lack of childish glee and minor tantrums - made him restless.

Long fingers stroked a strong, smooth jaw before clicking the car stereo off and turning the car toward TJ’s apartment.

He recognized the pizza delivery guy as their regular from TJ’s favorite pizza joint. As they both got out of their cars at the same time, he nodded toward the guy, “223?”

At the nod of recognition, Julian smiled. “Let me take that off your hands.”

“It’s already paid for,” the kid spoke up when Julian reached for his wallet.

“Right. Then this is for you.” Julian smiled. “Thanks. Be careful out there.”

The kid took the cash and grinned. “Thank you, you too - uh - I mean - have a good evening.”

Julian saluted him as he passed, balancing the two jumbo pizza boxes on one hand. He carried them inside wondering if Steve had stopped by, TJ wasn’t expecting him and that was a lot of pizza. Julian let himself in, as he was accustomed to doing, and stopped short when it looked like Captain America might take him out without hesitation.

--.--

They both turned toward the door when it opened. TJ wasn’t surprised, but Steve - unaccustomed to this type of visit - was nearly to his feet, prepared to fight. TJ had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. “Jules, you startled us.”

“I come bearing pizza, is that enough to cover the price of admission? And buy forgiveness?”

Steve backed down instantly, knowing Julian wasn’t a threat. Still, he appeared ready to bolt without notice.

TJ met Julian with a kiss, which went a long way toward alleviating his loneliness.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You think there’s enough for one more?”

“I see you accosted our delivery person.” TJ followed Julian around the sofa, trying to take the boxes, before giving up and letting Julian set them on the coffee table. “Did you tip well?”

“Of course.” Julian passed a large hand through his wavy hair before putting his palm on the side of TJ’s neck, “Do I look like a barbarian?”

“Jury’s out.”

“Hi Steve. I really hope you don’t mind me crashing. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Julian,” Steve nodded, the momentary shock had melted away and he smiled at the friendly greeting. “I know the feeling. The more the merrier.”

“What kept you up?” TJ asked as he opened the pizza boxes and lined them up in front of Steve and Julian.

“Too quiet.”

“Miles is with his mom,” TJ laid a hand on Julian’s wrist. “You really should be having celebratory naps when he’s with her, that little one is always going.”

“That he is.”

“Must be hard,” Steve said. Loading his plate with slices of pizza, he again considered leaving. He just couldn’t get behind facing the loneliness. He definitely understood too quiet. It might be more permanent for him than for Julian, but the feeling wasn’t easy no matter how long it prevailed.

“Just the first few days. It’s so much easier to adjust to his coming back than his being gone. He loves it there, she’s really a great mom. I just - I’m learning how to behave in both worlds.”

“Let’s eat and watch a movie, maybe that will distract both of you for a bit.” TJ moved past them both to turn the television on. “None of that I hope I’m not in the way nonsense from either of you.”

Steve sat back against the cushions, his plate piled with slices of pizza balanced on the sofa arm next to him. “You’re the boss.”

“Yeah, for now,” Julian teased, tossing napkins on top of the pizza boxes.

“I’m offended,” TJ pouted as he sat heavily on the cushion next to Julian, and sprawled half across Julian’s leg.

Steve snickered before taking a bite of one of his slices of pizza. The trio settled into the comfy sofa in hopes that the movie could distract them.

<<<>>>>

The vibrating phone in his pocket woke Steve. At some point in the movie, the sleep that had eluded him all evening had taken over. He didn’t bother looking at the phone, just slipped out of TJ’s apartment, leaving TJ and Julian snoozing on the opposite end of the sofa.

He tapped a quick reply to Sam, and took the stairs by twos and threes, silent except for one stair that creaked if you breathed on it. In his apartment, he sent TJ a thank you and another Valentine’s day wish before grabbing his gear from beside the door, deciding that he could change clothes on the way. Off to Lagos, for what he hoped would be a quick recon mission.

[deejadabbles]

A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)

Chapter Two: Leave Out All The Rest

One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// [Five Coming Soon]

Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.

Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.

A.N. In case they weren't gay enough in the last chapter, Yugi and Jonouchi are boyfriends in this series <3 Is it a bit unrealistic to think they could be in a band and remain happy n healthy in their relationship? Probably. Do I care? No.

"This ain't working at all- and I told you it wouldn't!"

Yugi sighed as his beloved boyfriend tossed his phone on the table and leaned back in his metal folding chair.

Immediately, Yugi picked up the phone and handed it back to Jonouchi. "You can't dismiss them on looks alone," he scolded in a light tone.

Jou looked aghast, "He looks like he sacrifices cats on Sundays!" He waved the screen at Yugi, which displayed a bearded man who cast a purposeful scowl at the camera. He had lots of tattoos and piercings on top of the studded leather clothes, but that just made Yugi more annoyed with his boyfriend.

"People can say the exact same thing about me!" He waved a hand, encompassing his leather pants, studded belt, collar-style choker, and the tattoo on his arm.

Honda let out an unsure hum as he scrolled through his own phone, "But you're still a cinnamon roll under all that leather, Yugi, I'm not sure this guy is. Don't think he's a bad dude or anything, but I don't think he's the right fit for us," he turned his phone so everyone else sitting at the table could see, "just look at the titles of the songs he sent."

Okay, Yugi would concede that the examples the applicant had sent were a little...extreme, the title "bled like a pig" stood out in particular, but he still thought the boys were being a bit judgy.

"I think I'm gonna agree," you mumbled, "these are pretty heavy."

"You wrote a song called "we are broken" that sounds pretty heavy," Yugi countered, not unkindly though still trying to play the middleman.

"Okay, heavy isn’t the right word,” you conceded with a frown as you looked over some rather grotesque lyrics, “yup, “ edge lord ” is more fitting. Just look at the contents of the songs."

At the suggestion, Yugi scrolled down the application on his own phone, passed the profile pic and down to the bottom of the "examples of my work" section. ….okay, you guys had a point. Yugi doubted that the guy actually performed blood sacrifices, but his song style was definitely a little too demonic.

"Alright, I'll send him a thanks but no thanks note."

As Yugi brought up his email app to do just that, Anzu let out a frustrated sigh and scrubbed her hands over her face. "That was, what, the sixtieth-something application we've gone through?" she groaned, setting her phone down too, “It’s been over a month, and we haven’t gotten anywhere.”

"I still can't believe we got so many responses to our ads," Jonouchi grunted.

You set your head on your hand, expression dropping and making the dark circles under your eyes look more pronounced, "Everyone's pretty eager to join a band, now if only getting fans was as easy as getting people who wanted in on the fame prospect."

"All this work would actually be worth it if we found someone who even remotely appealed to us," Honda commented, "But everyone's just a little too…"

"Hardcore?" Anzu offered, then looked over at you, "Nah, you’re right, edge lord-y seem to fit most of them. I think that's the real thing, our band name probably makes people think we're more broody and grim than we actually are. We have plenty of darker themes in our stuff but everyone else seems to take it just a bit too far than our tastes go."

You ran a hand over your eyes, “Anyone else feel like we’ve wasted five weeks looking these applications over?”

"Hey, I'm sure we'll find someone soon though!" Yugi chimed in, a valiant attempt to elevate the mood. You and Jonouchi were always saying (much to his embarrassment) that he was everyone’s ray of sunshine, so surely he could salvage the night’s mood. “We just have to keep trying, I’m sure the right person is just around the corner!”

Anzu threw him an appreciative smile, “You’re probably right, Yugi, but I think I’m done looking for the night, it’s pretty exhausting.” She leaned back in her chair more, stretching her arms over her head.

“It’s probably a good time to call it quits now anyways,” you offered after glancing at the time, “If I hurry home now I can catch a shower before my shift starts.”

Everyone mumbled and nodded their agreements at that, followed by the five of you meandering around the room to get your stuff together. Honda offered to drive you back to your apartment like usual and everyone waved goodbye to each other in the tiny parking lot of the studio, Jou and Yugi climbing into Jou’s truck, Anzu into her beat-up car, and you and Honda zipping away on his motorbike.

It wasn’t until Yugi and Jonouchi were back at their place and Jou was cooking their dinner that Yugi realized something with great annoyance. After dumping the content of his backpack out on their bed, rifling through his desk drawer, and scouring the floor, Yugi wandered into the living room/kitchen area with a frown.

“Hey, sweetie, have you seen my adapters?”

Jonouchi looked thoughtful as he stirred the contents of the pan, “Uh, you mean the ones you use for your turntables? Haven’t seen them since the last time we rehearsed, that was what, three days ago?”

Yugi mumbled a curse under his breath, double-checking the tables and other spots he might have absentmindedly set them. Nothing. “Darn, I must have left them at the theatre yesterday.”

“Sure they aren’t in the studio?”

“No, I looked to make sure I’d have them when we rehearse tomorrow, but they weren’t there, that’s why I had it on my mind to find them when we got home.” Yugi shrugged and checked the time, thinking. After making up his mind, he grabbed his purple jacket from the armchair, “It’s okay though, if I hurry I should be able to sneak back into the theatre to get it. I think some members of the orchestra practice together tonight, and even if they aren’t the janitor should still be there.”

Yugi bounded across the tile floor as he slipped his jacket on, jumping up to place a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek before turning to the door.

“I won’t be long, be back before dinner’s done!”

“You better,” Jonouchi called as he grabbed some spices from the cabinet, “I ain’t fixing this masterpiece for one!”

Yugi chuckled and closed the door behind him, as if he’d miss a chance to taste his boyfriend’s amazing cooking.

There was barely any need for a jacket as he walked down the sidewalk, but the vanishing sun assured that it would probably get colder by the time he was walking back home. Although their apartment was a bit far from the band’s studio, the location at least allowed Yugi easy access to his other work place: Domino City’s “Pegasus Theatre”. It was a popular spot for the upper crust of Domino, since they not only hosted ballets, but a talented orchestra as well. Yugi and Anzu both worked there, Anzu as a dancer in the ballet, and Yugi in the sound department, providing tech aid for the shows. Well, for the ballets at least, the natural design of the theatre meant that he wasn’t usually needed when the orchestra played.  

Yugi's assumption proved right and he found the door of the employee entrance unlocked. The sound of chatter greeted him as he approached the stage area, signaling that the orchestra was packing it in for the night. He took a brief glance at the stage as he walked up the rows of seats- he had to be quick, as there were only three lingerers, two chatting as they headed for the door and one quietly packing away his violin.

Yugi bounded up the narrow staircase to the sound booth, opening the door and crossing the room to the little employee cubbies. He found what he was looking for quick enough, after pushing aside his spare jacket and snack bag. The beat-up altoids case rattled, but Yugi made sure to double-check that the adapters were actually in there. They were and he sighed in relief, pushing the other contents back into the cubby before turning.

He peered out the booth's window to see if the violinist was still there, and to Yugi's surprise he was not only still in sight, but the man had actually lingered after packing away his instrument. Standing in the very center of the stage, the man was looking out at the empty seats, then trailing his eyes up to the magnificent red curtains.

Yugi smiled to himself, figuring the man was just having a moment of wonder or taking in a daydream during his moment alone, and Yugi couldn't blame him in the slightest. Yugi was slower when taking the steps down, letting the man have his moment before he ruined it by walking by.

Again though, Yugi found himself surprised. His pace slowed, the sound of a melodic voice carrying through the theatre like a wave that had Yugi stopping dead in his tracks.

I dreamed I was missing

You were so scared

But no one would listen

Cause no one else cared

After my dreaming

I woke with this fear

What am I leaving

When I'm done here?

The voice was deep, the rumble of a serene storm, almost haunting in a way.

So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

Yugi’s feet were moving before he even noticed and he soon stood on the red carpets leading to the stage.

When my time comes

Forget the wrong that I've done

Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed

And don't resent me

And when you're feeling empty

Keep me in your memory

Leave out all the rest

Leave out all the rest

The violinist stood there, lost in his own world- or rather the words of his song. His eyes were closed, listening to a chorus of instruments only he could hear as his hands moved in short but meaningful gestures.

Don't be afraid

I've taken my beating

I've shared what I've made

I'm strong on the surface

Not all the way through

I've never been perfect

But neither have you

So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

The chorus of the song came again and Yugi finally snapped out of his reverie long enough to pull out his phone. With quick thumbs he searched the beautiful lyrics he had never heard before, wondering why he didn’t know the song.

No results came up, the song was unknown.

That only got Yugi’s attention more, and he gazed back up at the man, whose voice was filling with more and more emotion with every lyric. His fist clenched at the front of his shirt, over where his heart was, eyes screwed shut as he continued to pour his heart out to the empty theatre.

Forgetting

All the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well

Pretending

Someone else can come and save me from myself

A pause, an intake of breath, and Yugi found himself hanging on to every second the man gave.

I can't be who you are...

...I can’t be who you are

The singer drew out the last lyric in a prolonged, sorrowful note; breathy as he bowed his head, the song- his raw expression, finished.

Instantly Yugi found himself clapping, bounding down the red aisle between the seats to the stage. He only felt slightly guilty when the other man jumped in fright.

“That was amazing! Your voice is amazing- that song too!”

The man (who Yugi only now noticed has a similar hairstyle to his own) stared back at him with wide eyes, body stiff.  “Uh- oh I- thank you. I...didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

The man’s speaking voice was deep too, and anyone could guess that he’d have a powerful set of pipes. Yugi was still too excited to pay the man’s nervousness much mind as he practically hopped to the foot of the stage.

“I didn’t mean to startle you- but I couldn’t help it, that was awesome! Did you write that song yourself? I googled some of the lyrics and nothing came up.”

The man took a while to respond and Yugi wondered if his dark complexion was hiding a blush. Eventually, though, the violinist/singer cleared his throat.

“Y-yes, I wrote it. I’ve never sung it in front of anyone though.”

“Do you write a lot of songs?” Yugi pressed and again it took his new friend a moment to respond.

“...Sometimes. I suppose it’s a bit of a hobby. Listen I-”

Finally, Yugi actually realized just how rude he was being with his aggressive ramblings, “Oh, gosh I’m sorry! I’m bombarding you with questions like some weirdo.” He gave a nervous laugh and to his relief, the man’s posture seemed to relax a little- though he still seemed a bit embarrassed. “My name’s Yugi, by the way, I’m one of the sound techs.”

The man gave a nod of his head, “Atem, I’m a violinist in the orchestra.”

“And a totally awesome singer, you’ve got some real talent,” Yugi reiterated, but pressed on before the man could get too bashful again, “The reason I asked you so many questions is because I think it’s fate that we met like this! See I’m in a band, we’re trying to put out our first full-length album but- honestly, we’re aren’t very fast at pumping out new songs. We’re great with coming up with the music, but the lyrics always get us stuck. We’ve actually been looking to hire a ghostwriter for our songs, but none of the people we’ve found seem right- but that song was amazing, just the kind of stuff we like!” Ignoring the unreadable expression on Atem’s face, Yugi dug out his cardholder and passed one of them up to Atem. “I don’t wanna blindside you more than I already have tonight- sorry about that again, but, I really think you’d be a perfect fit for us. Think about it, and if it seems interesting to you, come talk to me.”

Atem looked the card over for a second, before peering back at Yugi, “I’ve never really put my songs out there, it’s just a private hobby, I don’t want you and your bandmates to get your hopes up.”

Yugi waved off his concern, “Don’t worry about that. Like I said, just think about it, okay?” He didn’t move, nor look away from Atem until the man finally nodded in agreement. “Awesome! Take your time and come talk to me once you’ve thought about it some.” His outgoing steam was starting to run out, his bold and somewhat rude actions finally starting to catch up to him. In a sudden burst of embarrassment, Yugi brought his hand up to scratch at the back of his head. “Anyway, I’ll let you go now, I’m sure you want to get home or get on with your night. It was nice meeting you, Atem!”

And with a wave, Yugi was heading for the door, leaving a rather bewildered Atem in his wake.

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 7

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Chapter by Maerynn

The first morning Marinette woke up in Chat Noir's mother's apartment, the most accurate word to describe how she was feeling would be "awkward".

Chat had carefully wiped the apartment of any hints of his mother's identity before bringing her here, but Marinette still felt as if she was invading this faceless woman's privacy. Sleeping in her sheets, showering in her bathroom, cooking with her appliances, leafing through her books. And yet, she couldn't help but love it. Marinette knew it was wrong, that she was playing with fire and jeopardizing her own identity, but by living in his late mother's apartment, she felt closer to her partner.

Laying on her back in that wide bed, Marinette found herself wondering what kind of child her partner had been. Had he crawled into his mother's bed at night, claiming to have nightmares to be allowed to sleep in that very same bed? Was he a picky eater, forcing his mother to deploy ingenuity to have him eat his broccoli? Was he the kind of little boy to get into trouble every day or, on the contrary, was he a little angel?

As she stretched out on the comfortable mattress, his ridiculous rent fee came back to her mind—a meal. It was kind of cute, in a way. Yet that obnoxious kitty had to go and ask for the single thing she didn't have to spare: time. Luckily though, being a daughter of two bakers, Marinette had a few quick but tasty recipes up her sleeve, and would probably be able to cater to her partner's culinary needs.

Reluctantly tearing herself from the sheets, she ventured into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Chat Noir was definitely a really thoughtful man. Even though the apartment hadn't been inhabited for the past few years, the fridge was fully stocked with everything she could ever possibly need to cook delicious meals for both of them. Various fresh meat and fish, vegetables, multiple kinds of fruit, and seasonings were waiting for her. The pantry hadn't been forgotten, bursting with spices, crackers, and every possible type of oil, flour, and sugar she would ever wish to use.

With a fond smile dancing on her lips, Marinette wrote a quick list of the supplies she would need to feed her silly kitty over the course of the next week, marveling once again at the apparent infinite kindness of her partner. Why would he go out of his way like this for a girl he hadn't seen in years?

The idea that he was ready to go to such lengths for a long-lost friend made her heart clench painfully in her chest out of longing. Because if she was entirely honest with herself, Marinette wanted more out of their relationship. Way more. She was done hiding behind masks, done playing games. Yet, this recent development had thrown some sand in the gears. How could she reveal herself to him now? He would know what a complete failure she was, would know she had kissed him out of sheer selfishness, would know she had been on the receiving end of his kindness without offering anything back.

No. Keeping her identity to herself, at least up until she could manage to look in the mirror again, was a safer bargain.

She was almost done with her grocery list when her phone chimed on the countertop beside her.

Alya: Please. Let's just talk. Nothing else, I promise. No questions. I just need to see you to make sure you're alright.

Marinette groaned. One would think that if someone wasn't answering your calls and texts for a week, one would give up until that person is ready to reach back. Not Alya. She kept trying, again and again, all while Marinette hesitated. On one hand, she really wanted to avoid revisiting all the issues they had, much less having to explain her new living arrangement. But another part of her, the one that was currently lonely and lost, wanted her best friend back, no matter the cost.

So she shook her head and grabbed her phone before she could change her mind.

Marinette: I'm free around noon.

Alya: Works for me. Usual spot?

That was how Marinette found herself sitting in the café they liked to frequent, nervously sipping on a vanilla latte.

Alya came in right on time, taking a seat in front of her best friend without even bothering to order a drink but not before wrapping her arms around Marinette in a tight hug.

"Okay," Alya said in a soft voice, "I know we have a bunch of things to talk through, and we'll come to it, but first I wanna know if you're safe. A little birdie told me you were sleeping in your office, and I won't let—"

"I was," Marinette cut her rambling short. She knew she had worried Alya sick, that her famous mama bear instincts had kicked in the second Marinette had walked out the apartment. "But I'm not anymore."

"What?" Alya squealed. "Are you homeless? Where is all your stuff? Hang on, I'm going to call Nino and—"

"Alya, stop." Marinette smiled softly to herself, her heart warming up despite herself thinking of her current living arrangements. "I'm staying at a friend's place, that's all you need to know for the time being."

Her best friend eyed her critically, from head to toe. "Who? I know for a fact that you aren't staying with Rose and Juleka or Mylene. Who else could you stay with?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you more than that right now," Marinette sighed. "But it's not someone you know personally, and I really can't say anything."

"Are you sure you can trust this new roommate of yours? How come I have never heard of them before? This whole 'can't tell' sounds a bit fishy, don't you think?"

Marinette sipped on her latte, a fond smile spread on her lips. "I trust him with my life, Al. And he's not living with me, he just lent me somewhere to stay until I get back on my feet."

"So this mysterious friend is a he. Mari, you can't possibly be that naive. He'll expect something in return."

"No. Don't worry, Alya. Not him. He already has someone in his life, anyway."

Marinette could almost picture Tikki rolling her eyes in her purse upon hearing those words, and she had to repress a giggle. In front of her, Alya merely frowned, looking at her friend intently.

At last, seemingly reaching a decision, Alya sighed, "Look, I'm sorry, Mari. I should've realized you were stressed out much more than you let on, and instead of supporting you like a best friend should, I just yelled at you and kept putting pressure on you."

"You've had stuff going on too, with the wedding and everything," Marinette said softly.

Her best friend huffed, looking down at her clasped hands in her lap. "That's no excuse. You clearly needed someone to lean on, and I failed you. Marinette, please come back to the apartment, it's yours as much as it's mine."

The young woman couldn't help the smile that spread on her lips. This was the Alya she knew and loved. The one taking charge of everything, making sure everything was alright, caring for her friends more than herself.

"I can't, Al. You and Nino are gonna be married in a few months, I'm not gonna third-wheel you guys forever. I'm going to be fine."

The frown still lingering on Alya's face was eloquent on its own. She was still worried sick about her friend, worries that had been growing for quite a long time now. "Why don't you quit that sinking job then? Everyone's quitting; it's all over the newspapers."

"I can't quit." Marinette tried to ignore the knot tying her throat up, focusing on explaining herself, at last giving some sort of sense to her actions. "I didn't complete my degree at ESMOD, if you recall. Gabriel pulled me out of school midway, said it was a waste of time and money, that he'd show me everything I'd need to know. And without a degree, I don't really have a bright future unless I prove myself with this new collection—"

"And with him gone that's your only option," Alya ended for her. "Okay. So there's a dude at work that owes me a big favour for conveniently forgetting to mention to his wife he lost his wedding band. I might be able to score you a four-page spread covering the next Gabriel fashion show. Do you think there might be a way to have the months you spent working for Gabriel recognized by ESMOD? I mean, you have paychecks to prove your experience, and definitely the skills to own up to it. Whose ass do I have to kick or kiss to get you your degree?"

Marinette lifted wet eyes toward her friend. Alya had always had her back, through thick and thin, and for a minute, she wondered how she could have let herself forget that. At a loss for words, she ultimately mumbled weakly, "Why would you even help me?"

Alya scoffed, looking at her best friend disbelievingly. "You're my best friend, Mari, and I love you to pieces. Obviously I'm gonna help you tear yourself out of that dump."

***

That same day Marinette stood outside of Adrien's office, sighing softly to herself.

After her talk with Alya, she had devised a bunch of things she had to take care of right away to salvage what was left of her name.

And Gabriel's women's line was among them.

Clutching the heavy folder to her chest, Marinette raised her fist and landed two sharp knocks on the door, her heart beating heavily within her ribcage.

"Come in," Adrien's familiar voice compelled her, tossing all of her worries aside. No matter how she felt, no matter how hurt and lost she was, Gabriel Agreste was gone and there was no one who could help her right now but herself. She had to carry on his legacy and in the process help herself even if it meant dealing with a man she'd rather not even see right now. All that was needed was to be a professional, and that she was.

Taking in a hefty breath, she pushed the heavy door. "Good evening, M Agreste."

"Marinette?" Adrien blinked. He seemed a bit tired. "What can I help you with?"

"I have a favour to ask of you."

Adrien straightened up in his chair, staring at her curiously. He seemed to search his words for a few seconds, before replying disbelievingly, "A favour from me?"

If they were still friends Marinette would almost certainly have giggled, seeing his dumbstruck face, how his hand was still clutching the pen that had halted its course on the paper. But as of now, they weren't, so her face remained emotionless. Yet, for the first time since crossing paths with him again, she really paid attention to him. Saw the dark circles underlining his familiar green eyes behind his glasses. Saw how his hair was wildly swept back, sticking out in every direction. Saw how wrinkled his shirt was, saw how poorly his tie knot had been done.

He looked exhausted, at his wits' end.

He looked broken. Just like her.

Immediately Marinette shook those thoughts away. She was here on a mission, and couldn't let wandering thoughts distract her.

"I need some papers from your father's office in order to proceed with some of the designs. Would you be kind enough to retrieve them for me?"

If he looked surprised a minute before, now Adrien was looking completely dumbfounded. "You have full access to his office at any given time, why would you need me for something like this?"

Shaking her head, Marinette pushed the heavy file on his desk. She couldn't help but notice physics exams scattered through legal documents in front of him. "The designs I need are most likely kept in his personal office at the mansion. I scoured his entire office here without any success."

"The mansion?" Adrien's eyes widened. For a moment he remained silent before quietly adding. "I'm sorry, Marinette, ask me anything but this. I haven't been there since I moved out."

"Maybe you could send someone trustworthy on your behalf then?" She sighed. This conversation wasn't going in the direction she would've liked. "Listen, I understand that going back there might be hard for you emotionally, but those last few designs were the best pieces of the line. If I want to succeed, I need them."

Adrien stared at her for what felt like an eternity. "You need them that much?"

"Desperately."

Raking his hands through his hair, Adrien dropped his pen on the desk beside him and pulled the file she had given him closer. "So, those are the designs you need?" he asked quietly, the traces of uncertainty still lingering in his eyes.

"Yes, those are only preliminary sketches I drew for him in a creative meeting. He should have the final designs with all the specs in his personal files. If I want to meet the deadlines, I need those files. I can't start over from scratch on time."

"Alright," Adrien sighed softly, "I'll get them for you. If they're really in that office, you'll have your designs first thing Monday morning."

A sigh of relief escaped Marinette's lips as his lips twitched into a tiny smile. At that moment she clearly understood that this was an olive branch, offered to her to try and make peace between them after years of a feud that had lasted way too long. She wasn't sure, though, if she was ready to accept it yet.

As she reached forward, shaking his hand firmly while thanking him as professionally as she could, Marinette couldn't help but suddenly wonder if a teenager's mistake was worth ostracizing an adult who had just suffered the loss of his last relative and had had a withering fashion empire thrust upon him without warning, an empire he neither asked for nor wanted to deal with. Walking out of that office, she also found herself thinking that even if she wasn't quite ready to forgive him his past cruel actions, maybe, just maybe, Adrien Agreste wasn't as horrible as she thought he was.

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