#i have so many chores to complete before leaving town this weekend so i have gg in the background

[wegtable]

god ew this is an episode with christopher deadbeatdad sick and twisted and evil

[yellowcry]

We need a new foundation

For many years, Luisa was used for people acting like her physical strength was the only way she could be useful.

Abuela was the least person from whom she had expected a difference

@encantober-official prompt — Build

Luisa groans, rubbing her eyes. She reached for the steaming coffee pot. The family was slowly getting used to their lack of magic. It still hurt tho. Like an essential part of her was ripped out, leaving nothing but a gaping hole that Luisa didn't know how to fill.

The breakfast table was noisy. Even more so than before Casita's collapse. Adjusting was going slowly but surely. Even if an idea of taking a break (not even talking about a whole day off) still felt like a bizarre dream that Luisa would never have on reality. Because there was always something to do, no matter if it was a holiday or the weekend. There was always more work to pile up and carry on her shoulders. Like a dozen of brisks. Of course, now when family suddenly acknowledged Luisa didn't have to work all the time (that she wasn't completely worthless if she wasn't constantly serving others). It just... Didn't feel right. This idea was burned into her brain for the past fourteen years just to break away in just one night.

Seeing somebody else doing her job was strange. Luisa had to bury down her wish to go and help Papá and Tío Felix to carry the table outside. Even without her gift, Luisa still turned to be stronger than anyone else. It just didn't feel right.

She dropped into her chair, taking a big sip of her bitter dark coffee. Okay, sure, they would eat and Luisa is sailed at work. Cleaning the space and all this stuff. Collapse had left a huge mess. Well, sort of what you could expect from a giant house getting destroyed. 

Abuela lifted her skirt, stepping out of the house. She looked over the family, whoever was awake by now and ready to help. Honestly, if anyone's change felt so strange, it was her. Abuela still was strict, but the way she expressed love now was so much bigger. She acted so much more sweet with everyone. Doesn't mean Luisa had anything against it. She just needed some time to get used to the screen. And proper manners only added to Abuela��s gentleness.

"Good morning, how's today?" She asked, holding her wrinkled palms together. Luisa leaned on the back of her chair, sipping black drink "Do you plan on working today? I am going at meeting to plan new building." Her face turned to her granddaughter. "Luisa, do you want to come?"

Luisa blinked, her eye twitched. Did she hear it right? "What?" She re-asked, very confused. Why would Abuela even suggest her to help with planning and... well, mental tasks? 

"It's better to get together everyone who has more or less experience in building or construction." The old woman explained. "You have some buildings in your story, made singularly by you, if I’m not mistaken"

Luisa bit her lip. It was right, sure. Her endless list of chores included building hew places or the maintenance of old. It made sense, taking her immense strength that could compete with the whole town combined. But there still was enough rubbish to get rid off. And Luisa was the strongest in the town even without her gift, so she would be a huge help in her normal part of carrying heavy things. And the idea that Abuela, out of all people, asked to help her with something that wasn’t s form of hard exhausting job...  

"You don't have to agree." Her Papá got into the talk. "If you don't want to–"

"No, no." Luisa had cut him off roughly. "I just didn't expect this." Again, it was Luisa's job to do physical manual labour. Not mind tasking. She was the one to do things without questioning why she had to do them. And now, nobody else than her own grandmother wanted her to get with something other than that. "Are you sure, Abuela? I mean, there's still a lot of cleaning." 

Alma nodded. "If you want to help with taking old debris out, it's okay. I just feel like you have enough knowledge to help with blueprints. Especially as the one who both lived in Casita and knows about construction as well."

This felt strange. Even with all the talk that happened a while ago, with somebody telling Luisa she wasn't just her strength. The thought of being needed in other way... Just seemed abnormal. Especially when Luisa seemed to be the strongest person in the village even now, bounded by human limit. And she just assumed it made sense for her to keep helping with physical job she always did. But instead, Abuela suggested her to help with something that didn't requested her physical strength but rather Luisa's knowledge and experience. Abuela who no even a month ago would praise Luisa for her physical strength and how she was always ready to serve their community. Now was the one to get Luisa to do something that didn’t require her ability. Abuela was the one to make them serve community and help with their gifts so much. But now the one to try and seek beyond Luisa’s.

Luisa wasn't really used to he seen outside of brute power. But... she had to admit, it felt nice in a way. Being acknowledged as someone other than the one who can carry anything. Just unexpected. Luisa wondered for years if anyone could ever see her as anything other than a pack animal on whom they could throw every burden. And after now, once they started all this healing, Luisa wasn’t sure how long would it take for anyone to just think. Understand her. Perhaps that’s what’s happening when you put your self-worth at the fact of how useful you could be for years.

And she certainly didn’t mind helping again. Maybe get her chance to shine and tear the old threads a bit more. Maybe the fact that she still was stronger than anyone pushed her back into her role a bit. Unintentionally, but if Luisa thought about it, she still tended to work more than heeded. Doing her best to be helpful.

"I'm on it!" Luisa nodded, a little unsured. She took a deep breath, getting her composure. "When do we start?"

[pufflyhallows]

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys�� Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven…  Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

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

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

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

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

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

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

[cdt12345]

We've been friends many years but I've never thought to ask; Top 10 gay OTPs?

1.) Ian & Mickey (Gallavich) - Shameless us

What can I say about these two that we haven’t already said about them?! They are my absolute all-time favorite couple ever! Gay or straight. They perfectly complement each other, they love each other on a level I feel like I’ve never seen before (and I have watched a lot of tv/movies), they’re like a comedy duo, they support each other, understand each other better than anyone else ever will, they fell in love as kids, they bring out the best in each other, and they’re each other's best friend. I’m a sucker for opposites attract, who are also best friends. Gallavich really fits that bill. I wish they didn’t have to struggle so much to get their happiness, but I’m happy they finally got it. When they got married, it felt like the biggest victory ever! We went through those years of struggle with them, rooted for them, mourned for them when John Wells let Noel go after season 5. So much has tried to keep these two apart, even real-life circumstances tried to keep them apart. The chemistry between these two characters and between Cameron and Noel was so powerful, they were brought back to the show. That kind of thing doesn’t happen very often. When an actor leaves a show, they don’t usually come back as a series regular, let alone two actors who have already left the show. It felt like a miracle! I will never forget getting the news that Noel was coming back from you @luckyshazmrsmonaghansblog I was crying with happiness bc we wanted this for so long and I never believed we would get to see both Cameron and Noel back on the show. Or that they would get their happy ending outside of a jail cell. Especially after Cameron left the show in season 9. With their return we got a wedding, an entire season of them as a married couple, we got to see them dance with each other twice, we got them singing together, we got to see them start a lucrative business together, we got to see them free and happier than we’ve ever seen them before, and we got to see Terry get what he deserved after putting them through hell. We are only halfway through season 11, but I already feel so fulfilled with this extra time with gallavich that we were never supposed to have. JW tried to take that away from us. I will never understand why, but he failed. I am not surprised this is the one I wrote the most about. I can go on and on about gallavich!

2.) David and Patrick - Schitt’s Creek

This was everything I ever wanted to see onscreen, where there was zero homophobia. The pansexual character didn’t need to have a big coming out or tell everyone in the town of his sexual orientation, except his best friend. The gay character had a coming out with parents who loved and accepted him for who he is and was only upset that he felt he couldn’t tell them sooner. I dreamt of a day where I could see this kind of representation onscreen. The casual treatment of their sexuality was so refreshing and something I’ve been waiting for. There is no darkness or huge struggle they had to overcome to be together or a sad ending for them. They were allowed to be together without the major conflicts most LGBTQ characters have to go through. Once David made the first move Patrick was comfortable allowing himself to fall for David and start a relationship with him. He was so sure of his feelings for David after that first kiss, he never looked back and I loved that. They had such an adorable love story. Truly one I have been waiting to see for so long between two LGBTQ characters. They made me smile every time they were on screen. They are another of my OTPs that are exact opposites who complement each other perfectly. Patrick was welcomed into David’s family and blended in with them so well, even when he and David had very different upbringings. Patrick serenading David with Tina Turner and then Mariah Carey at their wedding is one of the most romantic things I have ever seen!

3.) Holt and Kevin - Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Captain Holt and Kevin are strange men on their own but together they are the perfect pair. They get each other in a way no one else does. The best part is their adorable fur baby, Cheddar! They seriously make the cutest family! I was so nervous when they went through a rough patch for a while because I didn’t want them to split up. Thankfully, they made it through and are still going strong!

4.) Will and Vince - Will & Grace

On the show's first run, Will and Vince were in a serious relationship and Vince was Will’s longest relationship on the show. They broke up a few times but were together by the series finale. The two reunite during the funeral of Will's father. There was a time jump on the series finale. Though I didn’t love everything about the last episode, I did love the fact that Will and Vince had been together for 20 years and raised a son together, who was conceived through in vitro fertilization with a surrogate. After the time jump, nearly twenty years later, their son goes to college and meets Grace's daughter, whom he would eventually marry. Though I wasn’t happy with the fact that Will and Grace didn’t stay close over the years, it did allow for their kids to one day meet, fall in love, and get married. I did like that outcome out of the finale. My family and I used to watch the original show, but we refused to accept or watch the 2017 revival because they completely changed everything from the original series finale. The second I found out they were changing everything; I knew I couldn’t watch it. They even wiped the existence of their kids from the first series finale. The revival was an attempt to cash in on the reboot craze and I wasn’t happy about that already, but even more so when they were going to break up one of my OTPs for easy money. Bobby Cannavale, who played Vince, has become even more famous since starring in Will & Grace. So, I already figured he wouldn’t be back for the show as a regular, but I know he did guest star. I won’t accept the revival and to me, Will and Vince stayed together, and their son married Grace’s daughter. THE END!

5.) Albert and Armand - The Birdcage

Miss Albert and Armand were the earliest gay couple I remember ever watching onscreen when I was eight years old. I have watched this movie more than I can count over the years. It is a family favorite that we quote often. Their son is planning to marry a girl whose father is in politics and is very conservative. They have to hide the fact that he has two gay fathers for one night, but everything goes awry, and comedy ensues. Nathan Lane and Robin Williams give a wonderful performance without resorting to using the stereotypes that are often used on gay characters, especially back then. It’s a classic!

6.) Stefon and Seth - Saturday Night Live

Okay, hear me out on this one! They’re not the most conventional OTPs on my list, but I really do love them so much! Stefon started doing a correspondent segment on Weekend Update on SNL. The first time Stefon came on, he flirted with Seth Meyers. The second he did I was like ooh they would make a cute couple! Stefon the wild party guy and Seth the serious news anchor. It was a match made in heaven for me. Before Seth Meyers left SNL to do Late Night with Seth Meyers, Bill Hader came back to play Stefon for Seth’s last episode. I didn’t expect what happened next to happen at all! They gave Seth and Stefon the ending that I haven’t even gotten from some actual scripted shows. I never expected Stefon and Seth to have this big ending, but I could not be happier that they did. I’m posting the link to the six-minute skit/ending and I hope it works. It’s worth watching. Though the video says it’s Stefon’s farewell it was really Seth’s farewell episode.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rj-wYWMdWNk

7.) Mr. Simmons and Peter - Hey Arnold!

Anyone who grew up watching this show already knew that Mr. Simmons, Arnold’s teacher, was probably gay. It was hinted at in the Thanksgiving episode. Arnold and Helga visit Mr. Simmons on Thanksgiving at his house and his family and “friend” Peter are there. Mr. Simmons mother says she didn’t know Peter was coming to dinner and Peter responds with the infamous line “There’s a lot of things you don’t know.” When Mr. Simmons mom tries to get him to take a woman friend to the ballet, he says he loves the ballet and Peter gives him a disapproving look and Mr. Simmons immediately declines. Those were enough hints for us fans to decide Peter was his boyfriend. Years later, the show's creator Craig Bartlett finally confirmed Mr. Simmons is gay and had them together in the 2017 Hey Arnold: The Jungle Movie. It was so exciting to finally get the confirmation years later, even though I was already certain of it for many years. I was happy that the cartoon no longer had to settle with vague hints about it.

8.) Callie and Arizona - Grey’s Anatomy

I was very happy to see a lesbian couple on prime time tv and I really liked both characters. I was excited to root for them but sadly as most couples on this show, their relationship took a turn, and I wasn’t thrilled about it. I was disappointed that it came to an end. By then I was already getting tired of watching the show. It was starting to feel like a chore to watch it every week. I tried to stick it out because I don’t like to give up on shows in the middle of it, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’m glad I did though because the shocking events with Derek Shepard, is something I’m glad I wasn’t around for. Anyway, I heard things between Callie and Arizona got even worse, so I was even happier I left when I did.

9.) Sherwin and Jonathan - In a Heartbeat

This was one of the cutest things I have ever seen! I wish this got the full-length movie treatment instead of a short film. But it was still a step in the right direction for the LGBTQ community. Gay characters in cartoons always bring me such joy and that was the focus of this short. A boy with a crush on another boy with a cute ending. What is not to love?!

10.) Mitch and Cam - Modern Family

Another show I had to give up on in the middle of the series. The show began to be less funny and more annoying to me. Another reason, that really has nothing to do with the show itself, that used to annoy me was that this show repeatedly beat out Parks and Recreation during award season. Parks and Recreation is a superior show when compared to Modern Family. This show won almost every year for years and it got really annoying especially when the quality of the show started slipping and they kept winning. After a few years, they finally stopped winning all the time. But before all that, I was a fan of Cam and Mitch. They were a great couple who I loved watching on the show. They were the best part of the show most of the time. But sadly, my annoyance of the show no longer being as funny as it used to be, was enough for me to stop watching.

[salmonmakiii]

may I request a fluffy time stamp of 8:00 for boyfriend!daichi please?

You may! I may have gone a bit extra with the word count (〃∀〃)ゞ

[08:00]

About : Daichi x reader Note : Pure Fluff! I apologize if there’s any mistakes!

Jeez, it's windy!

You shivered at the gushing wind. If you knew it was going to be this cold, you should've worn more layers. You looked down at your two hands, silently praying for the food you brought for the volleyball team would stay warm especially your boyfriend's. After all, you felt bad for teasing him last night.

It was like any other Saturday night where you and Daichi would call each other. Most of the time, your calls would include the two of you studying but last night was one of those days where Daichi would tell you about how exhausting his day went.

He had told you that his parents were out of town for the weekend and wouldn't be back till Monday morning. Being the eldest, he was responsible for his two younger siblings. That being said, he was occupied with house chores for a whole day; cooking, cleaning, waking up his siblings, and making sure they've done their school work. 

You wouldn't be lying that you were low-key worried when he mentioned he has to cook.

Make no mistake, Daichi is a great definition of husband material. He’s wise, has strong sense of leadership, cares for his loved ones - he'd make a great husband. But when it comes to cooking...?

He's not bad that it's to a point where he might burn the house down, but he's not that good either. 

"Sawamura Daichi! I just told you about the amount of water you should pour YESTERDAY!" Dropping yourself on your bed, you let out a laugh when you heard your boyfriend groan from the other line.

"I know, I know! I think I got distracted by something while you were explaining,"

"It was only the two of us yesterday. What were you distracted by? My pretty face?" You chuckled at your sarcastic question, wiggling your eyebrows as if he was right in front of you. It was silent at the end of his line and you frowned. You sat up from your position, your mind connecting the dots.

"Daichi? You weren't distracted by my 'pretty' face, right?"

"..." 

"SAWAMURA DAICHI, YOU SIMP!"

You snorted when your usual calm and collected boyfriend fall apart into a flustered, stammering boy last night. He was too precious.

Once you calmed down, you two continued your conversation. Daichi told you that the volleyball club was going to have practice at 6:50 a.m.

He sounded tired, but you could tell by how the way he talks about it that he looks forward to the training tomorrow. You know better than anyone how much he loves the team. You felt kind of bad for his busy schedule, though. So you’re resolved to give him a helping hand, at least try to cheer him up a bit and you have the perfect idea for that.

As soon as you finished your call with Daichi, you went downstairs to find your mom. You asked her if she could help you cook something for him and your mom was more than happy to help, considering that your family's already fond of your boyfriend.

Your mission started at 5 a.m. You and your mom were already bustling about in the kitchen, executing your plan to make onigiris for Daichi.

Using the ingredients that your mom had won in a lottery a few days ago (She'd won lots of things; meats, fishes, seaweeds, rice, and even sake), you were able to make onigiris with tuna-mayo fillings for the team and grilled salmon filling for the coaches and the managers. Wanting to make something special for your boyfriend, you added grilled meat to his menu.

Both of you were done cooking by the time the clock strikes 7. You and your mom made too much. Your mom suggesting that you should give some to Daichi's siblings.

At around 7:30, you started your journey towards Daichi's house that wasn't far from yours. They were outside of the house, playing volleyball using their brother’s ball. They lit up and greeted when they saw you. Without wasting any time, you told them that you were here to bring them food. 

Their eyes immediately lit up as they received the container from your hands. They thanked you, saying that the breakfast Daichi made this morning had too much salt in it. Laughing, you gave them your welcome and bid goodbyes with them.

When you arrived at school, you looked at your watch. The needles pointed at exactly 08:00. You paced towards the volleyball gym with a smile.

Even from afar, you could hear the boys' voice and the sound of squeaking shoes on the wooden floor. One particular voice made your ears perked and your feet took wider steps towards the building.

When you reached the opened door, you took a little peek inside. The boys were split into two teams as both sides battled like it was a real match. You came just in time to see your boyfriend received a powerful serve from Asahi. No matter how many times he'd done it, it always amazes you how he was able to keep his posture. If you were there in his shoes, your arm would probably fall off.

You shake your head once you realized you were getting sidetracked. You knocked on the door and the coaches’ heads’ turn to you. They gave you a smile and gestured you to come in. Kiyoko, who had seen you come in, immediately went to help you with your belongings.

"I heard you guys were having practice so I thought I'd make you guys a little something," You smiled at Kiyoko, opening the bag to show the labeled containers. Kiyoko’s eyes widen and she gave you her beautiful smile.

"Thank you so much (L/n)-san." 

Giving the bag of containers to Kiyoko, you took one out that's for Daichi. Takeda informed about the food you brought to Ukai. Ukai nodded and decided to give the boys a break.

“You guys! Let’s take a break!” He yelled. The boys stopped and straighten their backs. The noise of unsteady breaths filled the gym. They all walked to the side, all of the boys greeted you as they walked to the side of the gym to get their water bottles and towels.

"You should all thank (L/n)-san, she made you food," Coach Ukai informed. 

Not missing a second, all of those sparkly, overjoyed, teary eyes went to you. 

Except for Tsukishima. His eyes werent as sparkly as the others but they were wide.

"Thank you for the food!" They all screamed and bowed to you.

"Ahaha, it's no big deal. Really." You waved your hands at them.

As Kiyoko and Yachi distributed the food, you walk up to Daichi who was drinking alone. He gave you a side glance and finished his drink, pursing his lips as he smiled at you.

"Here ya go, a special one reserved only for my special someone," You beamed, giving butterflies to Daichi’s stomach.

"Thank you. You made them all?" He asked, putting down his water bottle on the ground, eyes not leaving yours as he did. He then took the container from your hands. 

"Mom helped out. You should've seen her, she was more excited than I am." Daichi chuckled and ruffled your hair. 

You suddenly let out a yawn. Raising an eyebrow, Daichi asked,

"It's still warm. When did you make it?" He opened his container.

His eyes grew wide at the delicious sight before him. There were pieces of juicy grilled meats and two onigiris completed with eyes and lips made out of seaweed. Unbeknownst to you, his stomach let out a quiet growl.

"This morning." You answered, rubbing your eyes a little.

"What time did you wake up?"

"You ask too many questions, Mister. Just eat it will you?" You laughed, pinching his biceps, a habit you just found out amusing when you started dating.

Daichi couldn't control the happiness in his body. He took a step and leaned in, kissing your forehead. He pulled away, seeing your shocked expression and cherry cheeks. He laughed and pinched your cheek with one hand.

"You made food at god knows what hour for me and the whole volleyball club. You walked here, carrying all of it ON YOUR OWN, not to mention you gave me a special one with extra meat and cute onigiris. Who's the simp now?" He raised an eyebrow, the teasing grin he wore made you want to wipe it off from his face.

"Shut up, we're both simps." You giggled, hitting his chest lightly.

The two of you ended your little flirting banter and went to the group that was sitting in a circle on the floor, devouring the delicious onigiris you gave them.

Daichi watched you interact with his team. If people looked closer, they might actually see hearts in his eyes. There’s a genuine smile of admiration appearing on his lips whenever he hears you laugh with the members.

His team loves you, his family loves you.

He loves you.

You turned around, feeling like someone was boring holes to your back. Your eyes instantly locked with his dark brown ones. Usually, he would look away, looking like you didn’t just caught him staring at you. 

But this time his eyes lingered.

Knowing the meaning behind his gaze, you returned it by flashing him a smile. Your eyes gave him the same amount of love and affection before returning back to the conversation you had with Sugawara.

It was a quick passing moment, but it was enough to make this man’s heart combust.

[halo-jpeg]

I hope I didn’t leave a bad impression with my last ask, gah, I’m not good with social interactions. I wanted to make it up to you by giving you a happier ask! What if slashers (any of them you want to write for) with reader who isn’t an S/O but rather a really good best friend who was there for them since the beginning?

Oh, what was your last ask, if I may inquire? Either way, this idea is absolutely adorable, I’d love to write it!

Michael Myers

Michael grew up with you. Your mother and his were great friends, so the two of you were kind of forced together.

He wasn’t too fond of you at first, but you grew closer as the days passed. It was inevitable.

You grew even closer as school went on, always there to run away from bullies or patch up any wounds thst were given. Sadly, being friends with Michael is a one-way ticket to Freakville.

I can imagine that the two of of you would spend lots of time in his forest together, building forts out of branches and such.

Now, in the current day, you provide shelter for your murderer friend, spending the nights watching movies or painting homemade masks together.

He keeps you safe from anyone and anything posing a threat to you, following you around whenever he can, and making sure you’re never harmed.

You patch up his wounds, feed him, and make sure the police don’t come sniffing around your house. Even if they did, you talk them into leaving without suspicion.

You know Michael could never bring himself to hurt you, so he lets you boss him around quite often with no more than a glare and a huff.

He’s like a tsundere, but platonic. He’d never admit that you’re his best- and only- friend, but it’s the truth, and he loves you like family.

Jason Voorhees

Jason was so, so shy, but something about you made him want to be your friend. You were so... normal, and be admired that.

It took quite some encouragement to actually go talk to you, and he had Pamela at his side through it all. He was so afraid you’d hate his face.

The moment you choose to be his friend he’s attached to you. He’d put all of his trust in you, and he’d see you as a sort of protector.

Ever since he started hanging out with you, less people have bothered him. Probably because he was usually out in the forest with you, away from prying eyes, playing hide and seek or tropical explorers.

You came back to Camp Crystal Lake every year, even after he died. You couldn’t bear to leave the memories. You spoke to Pamela a lot, too, keeping Jason’s spirit alive between the two of you.

When Pam died, you went to the lake to pay your respects at her tombstone. You had never guessed Jason, big, scary, murdering Jason, would greet you with a great big hug.

You moved out to the lake on a whim, and Jason moved in with you, patrolling the grounds at night and helping you with chores or gardening during the day.

He’s just as clingy as ever, but now, he’s your protector, and he always will be.

He doesn’t like when you swim in the lake, but he battles down his fear and acts as a life guard whenever you insist on taking a dip.

You patch up his wounds, making sure he’s clean and healthy, and in turn he keeps any pesky teenagers at bay, as well as keeps your crops nice and strong. He’s a great farmer.

Billy & Stu

Billy and Stu were best friends from the beginning, and they weren’t opposed to having a third party join their group.

Even as kids Billy was super popular, so both you and Stu were in the clear when it came to bullies.

You spent most weekends sleeping over at each other’s houses watching all sorts of movies. Horror, comedy, action, romance- you name it! Because of this, you’re just as much of a movie buff as the others.

When other friends like Sidney, Tatum and Randy came along, Billy and Stu made sure you knew you were still top priority.

They didn’t hide their murderous plans from you for long, unable to bear seeing you so worried for your own life.

Once you knew they were the killers, you couldn’t be angry or scared of them. Although, you did feel slightly guilty as your friends died off around you. Anyone would.

As adults, movie nights are still inportant, and you find yourself watching movies as you patch up their bumps and bruises from their hunts.

They keep you plenty safe, and the three of you together have the best fun. You’re all meant to be.

Danny ‘Jed Olsen’ Johnson

Danny was an outcast as a kid- he preferred photographs over people, but something about your face was next to irresistible.

Confident little Danny strolled right up to you one day and asked if he could take some pictures of you and your pretty face.

You and him clicked at that very moment, and he even taught you some of his photography skills.

His mother loved the hell out of you, and was always happy to have you over for dinner.

The night that Danny killed his mother and father, his first instinct was to go find you for help. Let’s just say you were surprised to see a bloody, terrified Danny crawling through your bedroom window at 3 am.

He ditched town for a while, finding shelter and solace in an old shack he’d stumbled upon, you taking up the job of bringing him food and whatever else he would need to live.

His Jed Olsen days were just fine, him showing his face again and living with you until people linked the Jed alibi to the murders. Then he was hiding again.

You hid with him, being the errand boy/girl, and spending most days chilling around with him doing who-knows-what. You were like a sister/brother to him, and he was just the same to you.

He trusts you with his life, and he kills off anyone who bothers you. You can even make requests, like you would to a rad DJ at a party. Although this was different... being murder and all.

Any and all S/Os of yours must pass the ‘Danny Test’, wherein he sees if they’re good enough to date you. Most fail. He’s picky, and overprotective.

Brahms Heelshire

The first day your parents brought you to the Heelshire residence to spend time with their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire, both you and Brahms were reluctant to meet another child.

Living a life of seclusion Brahms never imagined meeting someone hed actually care for enough to consider a friend. He was proven wrong.

He wanted to see you every day, and you wanted the same. You ended up having play dates every second day or so, and Brahms found himself actually growing very fond of you.

The fire was devestating, and you couldn’t sleep for weeks and weeks. In the future, an ad for a nanny job seemed like a shockingly nostalgiac idea, so you took the job to see tbe house where you made so many memories.

Brahms recognized you almost instantly. He basically rushed his parents out of the house so he could see you in action, in a natural environment where you could be yourself. He needed to know if it was really you.

Upon confirming that it was you, (Y/N), he showed himself that same day without fear. All it took for you to burst into happy tears was him saying your name in the same voice he had as a child.

Now, Brahms loves to reenact the old days, having tea parties and playing in the forest like he had as a child. He’s so happy to have you back!

He’s a very jealous man, so he’s never going to be fond of your S/O, but he’ll tolerate you having one as long as you promise not to leave him.

He won’t go in the walls very often anymore because he’s not afraid of you. He also won’t wear his mask much. His trust in you is infinite!

Pyramid Head

Before Pyramid Head became the monster he was, he had a normal life in a human world, with you glued to his side like two peas in a pod.

At school, he would keep you safe from bullies, using his abnormal height and strength to scare them off.

He always inwardly groaned when people would say the two of you were cute together, because neither of you liked each other like that.

The day P.H. went missing, you had been heartbroken. Who knew you would stumble upon him again years later in hell on earth?

When first running into Pyramid Head as we know him now, neither of you recognized each other. How could you, after all those years?

You would have been dead if you hadn’t spoken, and if he hadn’t recognized your voice. He was completely shocked.

Unable to speak, It was more than difficult to tell you thst he was him, your old best friend. After plenty of struggling you finally realize.

Now, he’s your ultimate bodyguard. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you. He knows Silent Hill like the back of his hand, so he’s like a guide as well.

He’ll do his very best to train you to defend yourself. He can’t lose you, not after you’ve finally returned again.

He’s got serious attachement issues, so he never leaves your side. Despite all the défense training, he won’t leave you alone for long.

Amanda Young

Amanda lived a rough childhood, so it was fantastic to have a friend like you to help her through it.

She was defiant, even as a child, so she stood up to anyone who would try to tease either of you. It usually resulted in a harsh beating, but she always walked away alright.

As she fell deeper and deeper into a dark spiral, she ignores your attempts to help, and before she knew it she was addicted to drugs. She wishes she’d have listened to you and your warnings.

When you heard she had been kidnapped by the infamous Jigsaw, you were horrified. You had never in a million years expected her to walk out alive, yet she did.

She kept her mentoring with John Kramer on the down low, keeping that new identity hidden. You were just glad she had gotten off of drugs.

Balancing a stable life with you and enough time with John was difficult and strenuous for your relationship. Sooner or later you grew curious as to where she always was and demanded an answer.

She told you. In a moment of vulnerability she spilled her guts, telling you everything about her gae with Jigsaw and it’s outcome, how she was training to kill. She had cried, afraid you would leave her or turn her in to the police.

Of course you did neither. After a bit of a rough patch where you had to get used to the idea, you and Amanda grew closer than ever. You even helped her with some traps and devices for her games.

You saw how she looked up to John like a father figure, glad that she had someone like that in her life again. John grew fond of you as well, and before you knew it, he was training both of you to be his disciples.

You and Amanda regarded each other as siblings for the rest of your days.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 27: Finding Balance

Life was about finding Balance. Good thoughts and bad thoughts, junk food and healthy food, active and inactive, work and play, love and children…there was a balance to it all. Mr. Gold had never particularly worried too much about this balance. Living on his own with no family or friends, he'd always figured he could do whatever he wanted and there would be no repercussions. Rumpelstiltskin, on the other hand, needed balance in his life, especially after the Curse broke and he found himself living for not just a son but for a beautiful woman he was coming to love a little more every day.

He was failing at finding the balance between the two.

In the beginning, just after the Curse had broken and Belle had returned, she'd taken up the bulk of his time. It was natural, with Emma gone and August missing, there had been no clear path to his son. He assumed when they returned that finding his son would be easy, and so he'd invested into Belle, teaching her about the world, pondering what to do with her, and preparing for the day he might leave her behind to fetch Baelfire. They'd grown together in that time, developed a relationship, one that was emotional and physical and just about anything else it could be. They'd gotten into routines and habits. They took care of one another. He spent far too much time thinking about her at work, counting down the hours until he saw her again, and though he'd disliked it in the beginning, she always had a meal prepared when he walked in the door, and his home was cleaner than it had been in twenty-eight years. Life seemed perfect, at least until news about the town line struck, and now…

Now he was busy. The balance had shifted. He was more focused on Bae than he was on Belle. He took his meals with Belle, and he held her every night until she slept, but instead of staying by her side, he'd taken to getting up, kissing her forehead so that bad memories would keep her dreams sweet, and then retreating to the basement before sneaking back into bed in the early morning hours. He thought it was getting away with it, but tonight seemed to have disproved that theory. She might not have known that he left her in the middle of the night, might not have known just how distracted he was when they sat together on the back porch or after dinner, but he felt like she sensed it in some ways. He felt like what happened when he'd gotten home might have had something to do with it.

He needed to balance his life. He was neglecting her. He'd been spending too much time working on Bae, and he needed to find a way to shift some attention to Belle, to remind her that she was a priority to him. He wanted to do something special for her, truly special. Chocolates and flowers would be nice, but she'd be happy about it for all of one night before she grew restless again. He didn't want to promise her anything that he couldn't keep; he already felt guilty enough for tricking her into a "deal." A library had worked in the Enchanted Forest, but he doubted he could pull that off again.

A thought finally came to him in the early hours of the day. He needed balance. She needed to get out of the house. He needed to spend some more time with her to make up for what he'd taken in trying to find his son. She needed to be pampered and have space. He needed privacy, somewhere that he could be sure they would talk about Baelfire. She needed a place where she could be relaxed and listen to him without distraction.

He didn't need to take her across the town line to accomplish those things. He just needed to make some preparations and then take a few days off of work. So that morning, he kissed Belle and left for work as he always did, but didn't go to the shop.

Broken Curse or not, legally, he owned the town of Storybrooke. This meant he still owned the cabins in the woods people rented from him, including the one he used for himself. During the Curse, he had memories of Gold using it but now knew that the only thing he'd ever used if for had been to teach Moe French a lesson and make a deal with Sidney Glass. It was a bit dusty, but he cleaned it to perfection with a wave of his hand. He filled the drawers in the bedroom with clothes for himself and Belle, he made sure that the kitchen was stocked with food, and there was plenty of chopped wood outside. He stood on the dock and looked out over the lake to see many of the other cabins in the area. All were empty. That was what made this perfect.

In the middle of the broken Curse, no one was thinking about going to the lake for a getaway; they were all too busy finding family members and figuring out who the hell they were in this world. No one wanted to rent from the Dark One, at least not any more than they normally did. And that meant complete privacy. It was another weekend. It was an opportunity to bring Belle here, to let her hike, to stretch her legs, read outdoors, even go swimming if she wanted, though with the water this chilly, he doubted that would be a sound option. Although, as he stared at the fireplace and magically placed a blanket over the back of the couch, he acknowledged that a chill in her bones could provide opportunities for other, far more romantic things.

He added some finishing touches to it before he left; a new book by that author from this realm she'd loved in his castle, a spinning wheel in the corner for him, a couple of bottles of wine to help him loosen his tongue when the time came to talk about Baelfire. And then he left. Barely ten, and he returned home. A weekend with Belle, that thought excited him, even if the thought that he'd have to truly ignore Baelfire for the weekend depressed him. But this was the right thing to do. This would reset the balance, give her time Bae had taken. It was necessary.

She was worried when he pulled up to the house unexpectedly. He could see the panic on her face almost right away as she met him at the door.

"What's happened? What's wrong?" she demanded. He smiled, trying to settle her as he led her back into the house.

"I don't want to get your hopes up," he explained, suddenly feeling nervous. "We're not going into town, but there is somewhere I want to take you."

Her jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing before a smile blossomed over her face, and she threw herself at him. He sighed as he returned the embrace, feeling her joy spring up around them. She was happy. This was a good idea. She was going to love it.

"When do we leave?" she asked, pulling away from him and revealing her smile and excitement again, the exact opposite of the mood she'd been in yesterday.

"Right now, if you're ready."

"I am! I mean…I think I am. Do I need anything?"

"Not a thing. Unless, of course, there is something that you wish to bring." She didn't hesitate when she shook her head. That was desperation to get out of the house, to go on an adventure. The news that they were leaving was enough. For now, he hoped that she liked the rest of it. "Come with me."

She beamed the entire way into the car, and as they drove, she spent the entire time looking out the windows. That was the first time that it really sank into him as to how long she'd been cooped up. It was only her second time in a car, her second time going anywhere. The last time they'd done this was the night he'd summoned the Wraith, and it had been dark. It seemed so long ago. Suddenly he found himself thinking that if it were him, he'd probably feel a bit contained too.

He watched her as best he could while he drove into the forest, watched her eyes sparkle with wonder, and then the joy that came from something familiar as they got closer to a place she didn't know existed. He had thought, before he'd left her that morning, that he could take her with him right then. He could have told her to pack a bag, told her his plans for their weekend. But he hadn't, and now he was happy for it. He didn't want this to seem forced or like it was a chore or a punishment. He wanted this. He wanted to watch her smile as she wondered. He wanted to surprise her. Oh, he hoped she'd be surprised. He hoped that it would be enough. He hoped she'd love it.

Suddenly it was his own heart that was pounding in anticipation as they turned down the dirt road that would bring them to the cabin. He observed her as they approached it slowly. There was curiosity on her face as she stared through the window at the cabin before he shut off the car engine, making it clear they'd arrived. He held his breath, waiting for her to react or say something. Finally, she smiled again as her eyes went wide, taking it in.

"Where are we?" Her voice was lyrical like she was laughing even when she wasn't.

"This is my cabin," he smiled.

Her eyes roamed over the building in front of her, not much different from a home that might have existed in the Enchanted Forest, though he doubted she'd ever experienced this kind of life. When Regina had first suggested she'd been kicked out of her home, before she'd told him that she was dead, this was exactly the type of home he'd thought she might enjoy. He hoped she'd enjoy it.

"Your cabin? Another house?" She looked sideways at him, and he nodded for her before turning back to it. "You live here too?"

"Well…not really," he admitted. "But it is mine. I made a deal a very long time ago with Regina for wealth and comfort in this world when she enacted the Curse. This became part of it."

And then it happened. As she listened to his tale and stared at it, a smile slowly broke over her face. "I hope she got something decent out of it."

He let go of the breath he'd been holding onto. She liked it. She was making jokes. That meant she was happy. He'd surprised her, and she was happy and excited about it. He'd done well.

"Come on. I'll show you around." She followed him out of the car as he reached for his keys. "The porch is covered and good for rainy days. You can drag a chair out and watch it pour while never getting wet. That's why the logs are kept there," he rambled as she looked it all over, and he unlocked the door. He couldn't tell if she was listening or not. When he'd turned to usher her inside, he found that she wasn't looking at him but at the forest around her. Happily?

"Belle?"

Yes. Happily. When she turned back, he saw her smiling like she'd just been given the best gift he could have offered.

Inside, she inspected the cabin in a way that told him she wouldn't have listened even if he did talk, so instead, he just let her wander, let her look around. It was small, he knew that, smaller than his house. But he figured she'd find its size cozy. And small or not, it did have all the comforts of home. The living room was basic, but the kitchen was capable of producing gourmet meals and the bathtub…he felt himself fight to contain a blush as he realized for the first time in his life that the bathtub was big enough for two. That was finally something that mattered in his life.

"The kitchen is well stocked," he commented to get his mind from that. He imagined they would have lots of time here to be together in that way, but they were here so that they could talk so that he could tell her about Baelfire. Though he was amazed at how easily she could reduce him, a man who was hundreds of years old, to boyish nerves and fantasies. "The bedroom and bathroom are just through that door, and I think you'll find everything you'll need is already here. I know it's not much, but-"

"It's perfect," she stated quietly, with a smile that eased any fears and anxieties he'd had. They were going to have a great weekend here.

"You can do anything you like here," he explained. "No one knows we are here, and very few know where this place is or that I own it. You can go outside any time you wish, go anywhere you desire, although I must ask of you to remain somewhat close by as I cannot make promises that you won't come across a few hikers. There's even a lake if you feel so inclined to swim, although I doubt it's warm enough. Weather in Maine rarely gets warm enough even in the summertime…"

His throat tightened as she came closer to him and rested her hands over his own on his cane. She met his eyes, and he noticed that they were bright and shining. "You did this for me?"

Those words…the last time that she'd said that to him had been when he'd surprised her with her library. As he'd told her before, that hadn't been so much for her as it was for him, to ease him of the guilt of that awful trip he'd dragged her on. But this…this was for her. And it wasn't. It was for her to get a bit of freedom, some fresh air. But it was also for him. It was so that she could tell her about Baelfire.

This wasn't a trip for either of them. It was for both of them. Together. He'd surprised himself without even knowing it.

"I know it's not town," he muttered, fitting their fingers together. "And I know that I haven't been around as often as I should be; old habits are hard to break. I just…"

He was sorry. He was sorry for a lot of things. In their past and their present. He wanted to tell her. The words just didn't come.

"Rumple," she smiled. "It's perfect. Thank you, for…for all this."

"It's not forever," he reminded her. "It's only for the weekend, but after that, we can plan trips to come back if it makes you happy."

It would. He could tell just by her expression it would. He could tell by the way she wound her arms over his shoulders to hold him that she understood even what went unsaid and that all this made her very happy.

"You make me happy," she whispered in his ear. "That's all I need."

He sighed in relief as he rested his neck against her neck. So, it would be done. If this was how he found balance, then that was what he would do.

"So…what would you like to do first, my darling Belle?"

[blazestarninja13]

Hamanda Week [Day 6: Au (Game store/College AU)]

@hamanda-week

This one is the longest of the bunch! 

Both Amanda and Hannah are 19 in this one and are also attending Luna Nova University. 

Also special thanks to @amanda-oneill for helping me come up with ideas for this one!

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25257931/chapters/61536790

It was early April, stores all around the town of Blytonbury were putting up decorations for the Easter season. Over the next few weeks, customers would be rushing into the town’s many stores to pick up Easter gifts. 

 One of these establishments was The Game Shack, a small video game store located on Woodward st that had been operating for well over ten years. 

 Around the corner from the store was Hannah England, a student of Luna Nova University (also known as LNU) and an employee of The Game Shack.

 Hannah had been running late for her shift that had started ten minutes ago. The only reason why she was running late was because she had slept in after a long night of studying and had also forgotten that she worked on weekends.

  She was dashing down the street in the rain with her store uniform under her hoodie. She was in such a rush that she didn’t even know who she was working with tonight, though it would be a surprise since she hadn’t met every single staff member yet and she had only been working at the store for around a month.

 As soon as she found herself outside of the store, she took her hoodie off, revealing her employee uniform. She walked in and immediately started warming up.

 However, Hannah saw something strange. There was someone sitting on an office chair behind the counter reading some sort of gaming magazine with their feet up on the front desk. 

 She couldn’t tell who the mystery reader was since the magazine was right in front of their face.

 She decided that this was no way for someone to act and surely wasn’t one of the store’s hard-working team members. So she had no choice but to tell them off.

 “Excuse me but you shouldn’t be here and don’t you know that it’s rude to put your feet up on desks?” 

 The magazine reader groaned a little before putting the magazine down and standing up from the chair to reveal herself. A tall, well-built redhead with dazzling emerald green eyes.

 At the sight of her face, Hannah was in complete shock. It was the last person that she thought she would be working with today or at all. It was someone she knew but wasn’t exactly friends with. It was the person she’d be working with for every day of the weekend over the next month due to a lack of staff.

 “Amanda O’Neill?! You work here?!” she cried out as her co-worker gave a cocky grin and laughed.

 “Yep. Didn’t wanna ruin the surprise for you and damn, was it worth keeping it a secret because you should’ve seen your face!” 

 Amanda O’Neill was another student of Luna Nova University that Hannah was all too familiar with. Not only was her good friend, Diana, dating Atsuko Kagari who was great friends with Amanda but as well she was known as the best person on LNU’s well-known fencing team, winning several awards for the university. 

 Though she was annoyed by her presence, Hannah thought that Amanda actually looked good in the store’s tacky looking bright red uniforms, which was rare since no one seemed to be able to pull off even looking half-good in the stupid shirts.

 “I didn’t even know you were into gaming whatsoever considering how you seem to be always flaunting your fencing wins when you’re not slacking off.”

 Amanda rolled her eyes and chuckled as her shit-eating grin stuck to her face.

 “England, first of all, I am an absolute gaming expert, and second of all, why wouldn’t I want to be proud of my wins?”

 Hannah sighed, this was not going to be an easy month of work.

  “You better not make this hard for me O’Neill.” She replied, ignoring Amanda’s response to her previous question.”

 “Eh, to be honest with you, I think this’ll be quite easy,” Amanda said with her signature toothy grin on her face while doing her signature finger guns.

 And so began a long day of work for Hannah and an apparently easy day of work for Amanda.

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

 Though the store had opened around half an hour ago, no customers had come in yet. So, in the meanwhile, Hannah decided to talk to Amanda but only because she had already done every other task and chore that needed to be done as of then. 

 Amanda was still flipping through her gaming magazine which seemed to be an issue on the best retro gaming consoles of all time. 

 Hannah was interested, she had grown up playing many of her dad’s older consoles that he brought back from his business trips since he was an avid gamer himself. That was why Hannah was working here, because of her somewhat secret interest in gaming that only a few people, including Amanda, knew about.

 “So, what is your favourite retro console?” Hannah asked, genuinely curious as to what the redhead would respond with.

 Amanda looked up from her magazine and smiled. 

 “PS1, no doubt about it.” 

 Hannah decided to try to pick Amanda’s so-called ‘expert’ gaming brain.

 “And why would that be?” 

 Amanda knew exactly what England was thinking and trying to do. Doubt her gaming expertise and try to pick her brain. Many people had done this before and were surprised to see the star fencer blurt out many facts and other bits of information about many different consoles.

 “Because of all the amazing games in its massive library, duh”

 Hannah still wasn’t convinced by Amanda’s ‘expertise’. 

 “Well, I wanna know why you think it’s better than the N64 even though I admittedly love the PS1 a lot as well”. Hannah grinned. “I too, know many things about gaming”

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

 After a lengthy and surprisingly intelligent conversation, Both girls had surprised each other thanks to all of their useless facts and opinions about various consoles. In the end, they both agreed that Resident Evil, Tomb Raider, and Metal Gear Solid were the best PS1 games. However, Amanda wouldn’t give up on her opinion that Conker’s Bad Fur Day was the best N64 game despite Hannah’s protests of saying it was obviously Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.

 Suddenly, a customer had finally come in.

 A short and chubby, 30-something looking man with a long beard, glasses, and balding hair strolled into the store. He took a few glances around and then squinted his eyes at Amanda and Hannah as he approached them.

Hannah looked at Amanda, who was swinging around in the office chair in boredom. 

 I guess I’ll have to take this one. Hannah thought to herself as she greeted the custom with the usual “Hi, how can help you”. 

 The man had an annoyed look on his face. 

 “Uh is there someone I could talk to that has a little bit more gaming knowledge?” 

 This question caught Amanda’s attention. She had knowledge of these types of gamers and what they did. 

 If he said anything more like that to Hannah, Amanda would come up and kick his ass.

 “Um, why?” Hannah responded, offended by the fact that this man thought that she knew nothing about gaming. 

 “Because I want to talk to someone who actually knows something about video games instead of people of your kind,” he said snootily.

 Hannah had no time to even respond because Amanda had already gotten up from her chair with anger in her piercing green eyes and was standing right in front of the man, in an extremely intimidating fashion.

 “Listen up, bucko…” She started with a low growl.

 “Just because we’re women doesn’t mean we have any less gaming intel than you if anything, we probably have more so if that’s how you’re gonna think, leave and don’t ever talk to her like that ever again if you do come back! Understood?” Amanda said with pure anger in her voice. 

 She was not going to let anybody come in and treat either of them in that way.

 The man simply gulped and backed out of the store in terror. 

 Hannah was in extreme awe. Seeing Amanda protect her was something she never expected in a million years but also made her blush a little for some odd reason.

 Amanda took several deep breaths to calm herself down. She was glad that she was able to protect Hannah even though the two of them weren’t really friends.

 “Amanda that was… amazing…” Hannah managed to utter out as the redhead turned back to her with a smile on her face.

 “Thanks, I guess.” Amanda awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. “Are you ok?” 

 Hannah smiled but was confused on the inside. Why did Amanda O’Neill of all people want to step up and protect her? 

 “I’m fine but seriously, how did you do that?” she curiously asked.

 Amanda flashed a proud grin. 

 “I simply just don’t take shit from sexist assholes like that. They mess with me or my friends and they won’t like what they get.”

 Hannah was even more confused. Was Amanda referring to her as a friend?

 “You see me as a friend?” she asked 

 “I guess so” 

 They both smiled. Though they may not have been too familiar with each other, they both had a feeling that this usually long and hard month was going to be more bearable with each other. 

 Hannah didn’t know why Amanda suddenly wanted to protect her but damn, did she want to learn how to intimidate like that. 

 Amanda, on the other hand, was amazed by the myriad of knowledge of gaming history she had. Though she may have done heaps of research through magazines and websites, Amanda didn’t know all too much about consoles that were reasonably obscure whereas Hannah knew all about them since her father was always bringing them home to her as a kid. She had no idea why she suddenly had the urge to protect Hannah but all she knew was that she felt like it was her duty to do so. Surely there was a good reason behind why she felt like that.

 “Welp, I guess we’re gonna be stuck together for the next month” Amanda gave a mischief filled smile.

 This could either be the best or the worst month of my life. Hannah mused to herself as sighed.

 Amanda just kept grinning, she didn’t know why she wanted to protect Hannah like that but it felt nice knowing that she was safe.

 “Please don’t make me regret this, O’Neill,” Hannah rolled her eyes up.

 The two of them didn’t know why they suddenly felt fine in each other’s company but maybe, just maybe, there was something more going on...

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

cut + burn, chapter 1

Pairing: Colossus/reader -  Playlist

Summary: Wade decides that sixteen years of mutual pining is long enough. He's appointed himself your new wingman, and he's the best in town (or so he likes to think). Or, how the compound effort of Wade Wilson and total romantic frustration gave way to getting exactly what you've been waiting for.

Chapter 1: Suzanne

Part 2

Author’s Note: This is part one of a 5-part series. I’d like to tell you that this is something other than the introduction to a ton of smut, but that’s exactly what this is. Chapter title is Suzanne by Leonard Cohen.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection  @emma-frxst  @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu  @chromecutie  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @hazilyimagine  @lenavonschweetz  @nu-tt  @rovvboat  @i-write-fanfic-not-essays

-----   -----   -----

You stepped off of the X-Jet onto the manicured green lawn of the X-Mansion and breathed deeply, struck by sweet relief and a feeling of inner peace that only comes from stretching your legs after being squeezed into a cubicle for eighteen hours. The mansion was just far enough away from the city that the fumes and funk from the crowded streets didn’t quite reach the immaculate stonework. Even better, there was no smoke, no fumes, no filtered air from the X-Jet vents - just clean, cold October air that smelled faintly of cut grass and sunshine. For that, you were exceptionally grateful.

Mostly because you were tired of smelling everyone else’s stank on the cramped X-Jet, but, you know, small favors.

As you stepped off of the ramp and onto the impeccable grass, it finally hit you that today was your Retirement Day, all caps, fanfare trumpeting in the background. Sixteen years of jetting around the globe and cleaning up everyone else's shit had led to this final, glorious day. In your line of work, sixteen years without a full-on mental breakdown was a major win.

As reigning HBIC of Professor Xavier's cleanup crew, you’d seen a lot of messes over the years that would have left anyone feeling hollow inside - kind of like your guts had been scooped out and dumped on the ground. The scenes were always ugly. You were the one running off to go coordinate transports of rogue mutants to holding facilities or clean up the bodies left behind from a particularly ugly villainous rampage. Those were your everyday, small-scale chores. The large-scale mass tragedies were the catalyst that really forced your retirement.

Your duties weren’t limited to your obligations to the X-Men - you cleaned up behind everyone. You’d dealt with the fallout from everything the Avengers had ever touched: you'd disposed of the alien corpses after the battle in New York, scoured Sokovia for salvageable lives, cleaned up after Thanos. You'd cleaned up behind all of Dr. Doom’s rampages and Magneto’s tantrums. Everywhere you'd been sent was overrun by the kind of wreckage that left an everlasting mark on your brain. And these mass impacts had only been occurring more and more often lately.

The aftermath of your Last Hurrah as a trademarked Active Duty Hero was bittersweet. There would be a fun party that night with everyone who wasn’t on some covert mission in attendance. Your team had come home with you, and your friends were waiting. They'd make you a cake and pour you a beer and maybe, just maybe, coerce you out into the city for a night of fun. There would be streamers with “Happy Retirement!” written on them, obviously meant for someone much older than yourself. Everyone would congratulate you for sixteen years of impeccable conduct and efficacy.

And tomorrow you would wave your team off on their next task - a task they would complete without you. You’d already chosen your replacement, a new graduate with the power to microwave the air around whatever she targeted. The girl had only been part of your team for a year, but she had great leadership skills and showed real promise. You had confidence in her for sure, but confidence in her abilities wasn't enough to help you sleep at night.

You'd come to find out that passing the torch was much harder than you’d been led to believe. While you had no reason to be unsure of your choice, you had a major problem with relinquishing control. Seriously, it had taken sixteen years for you to decide that enough was enough and you were tired of cleaning up every nasty scene imaginable. You weren't the kind of person who just let shit go.

Nevertheless, you'd finished your last active mission and made it home safely, no worse for wear and no more traumatized than before you left. You'd have to figure out how to handle it on your own time.

The welcoming committee stood off to the side of the small airfield. There were friends and mentors crowding the field, Professor X and the like. Some people you were only acquainted with, like Wade and his buddies. And while you enjoyed seeing each and every one of them, you were only looking for one person in particular - and he wasn’t difficult to find.

Colossus stood head and shoulders above the crowd, the tallest of the tall. He'd taken time away from his duties that day to welcome you home. Not that you expected any less - you’d been friends since you arrived at the mansion twenty years ago. He’d already “retired” from active duty himself, nearly six years earlier than you, if you remembered correctly. Said he liked teaching more than beating the shit out of people. Since he was going to be the one teaching you how to be a teacher, you were going to see firsthand if that was actually true.

Your team disembarked from the jet in a steady wave of mutants. They were the weirdest of the weird - graduates whose powers weren't optimal choices for task teams or active combat but were still “active” abilities. At its heart, your team was a squadron of people who could decimate wreckage or do something weird enough to make disposing of ickiness a little easier. You, as the leader of this squadron of weirdos, must have had the weirdest skill-set of all.

Your former team (that would take some getting used to) mingled in with the group on the airfield, hugging and high-fiving, yelling greetings and (playfully) rude comments. You stopped to greet Professor X, but that was where the fanfare for you ended. You systematically squeezed past everyone separating you from Colossus and, upon reaching him, grabbed him in a tight hug, much to his embarrassment. (He wasn’t great with public displays of affection - never had been.)

Behind them, Wade howled like a hyena.

You stepped away from Colossus, staring sheepishly at the ground, at the same time he stepped away from you. He stared at his feet, which meant that he was still pretty much staring down at you since he was a good foot and a half taller than you. You’d meant to embarrass him on purpose, not really taking into account that your face would probably turn red, too.

Colossus gave you a short once-over, almost too quickly to notice. You smoothed out the creases in your suit, feeling quite self-conscious. You hadn't thought about how you must look returning from a mission before you'd stepped off the jet - probably disheveled, a little ruffled, like you needed a good week of sleep and a hot shower. He, on the other hand, was impeccably clean in his uniform, gleaming chrome in the late morning sun and rippling with muscle. You could have drooled just looking at the line of his forearms, but he was simply too shiny to get a good look at.

He straightened up and stood up a little taller, trying to maintain a look of composure. “Welcome home!”

You tried to mirror his composure and found it to be too troublesome. You were tired and there were too many people crowding around. Wouldn't this be so much better if it were just Colossus welcoming you home instead of this unending crowd of people?

You knew it sounded forced, but you said it anyway. “I’m glad to be home for good this time!”

Colossus raised a glinting silver eyebrow. “Are you really?”

Sometimes he knew you a little too well. You couldn't truthfully tell him that you were ready to come home - just that it was time to come home. Really home - not living in a constant state of perpetually ready to leave at a moment’s notice, not waking up with the sounds of explosions or falling wreckage, not squished into a tiny box on the X-Jet or sleeping on a cot in a safehouse somewhere. You knew where your three square meals were coming from, where you would be sleeping at night when you had to wake up in the morning. You had weekends off now. Getting used to it was just going to take time.

Colossus sensed your apprehension but didn’t comment, though you could practically hear him thinking we'll talk about this later. You forced a grin. “It’s time to come home.”

“If you’re sure…” he replied, still incredulous. Yeah, he was going to make you talk about your feelings.

“I’m sure.”

He was obviously unsatisfied with your answer. “In any case, I’m glad you’re home."

Desperate to talk about anything else other than being home, you changed the subject. "Are we still meeting later?"

He'd mentioned in a mission brief that he wanted to meet to talk about your first day of teacher training. You suspected that it was more so a cover-up for his responsible adult questions about your mental health so that he could assess you before your retirement party. You appreciated that Colossus cared and made you talk about things, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that feelings were hard to talk about. Especially with him - it always seemed to be harder to show vulnerability with someone who truly cared.

He brightened. "Yes! After you settle in, of course."

"How about you come to get me after I take a nap?" you laughed. "You haven't given my room away, have you?"

"Your room is exactly as you left it," Colossus replied, just a little quieter than usual. He shifted and seemed just on the verge of saying something else, but instead, he said, "I'm sure you would rather get to bed than stay out here. Come!"

Colossus ushered you towards the mansion where everyone seemed to finally be meandering. You knew you couldn’t leave to go to your room just yet - still too many people to greet. You'd do absolutely anything to get in the shower and take a nap. Your shower sang a promise of warmth, and your bed called to you louder than any siren song, the promise of rest and safety like a hymn drifting down from your third-floor room. Maybe you could just fuck off and no one would notice...

As you stepped past the threshold of the mansion, you felt Colossus' hand on your shoulder. He leaned down close to your ear, and you fought back a shiver.

"Go. I will make an excuse for you," he said, nudging you gently towards the stairs.

You clapped your hands over your heart. "My hero."

You would swear on your life that he smiled his soft smile at that, but you'd already leapt onto the first stair and run out of sight.

Colossus was right - your room was exactly as you left it. Pillows arranged in a simple pattern at the head of the bed, navy blue comforter clean and unwrinkled. A desk was shoved into one corner, old and creaky but well-loved. An equally ancient dresser situated up against the wall, the dark wood cracking and hardware knobs oxidizing. You'd left a spare uniform on a chair next to the dresser and a stack of blankets neatly folded at the foot of your bed. Your bathroom door was wide-open, calling to you like a prayer.

You stripped down and turned on the water to let it heat up. You showered longer than you ever had, letting the scalding water beat down on your head and rinse shampoo suds out of your hair. When you were acceptably clean and shriveled up like a prune, you finally got out. The water had started to run cold anyway. You wrapped up in a towel, laid down on your bed, and before you knew it, you were out cold.

-----  -----  -----

You awoke an hour later to a knock at your door. Your hair was still wrapped up in a towel as you searched for a bathrobe (you could have sworn you left that on the chair instead of your uniform). You could pretty much guess who was at the door, so the desire to stay mostly undressed was pretty intense. Nevertheless, you covered up so that you could at least appear to be a presentable excuse for a human being.

You opened the door to find - who else - Colossus. He made a pointed effort not to stare down at you in your robe and wet hair. Not that you minded if he did. You'd have answered the door naked if you weren't afraid he'd run away.

"Sorry - just woke up."

He shifted, looking a mite uncomfortable. “I will be down in the kitchen whenever you are ready.”

You nodded, inching the door closed. “I’ll get dressed and be right down.”

Colossus started making his way down the hall. He called back over his shoulder, “I will make tea.”

“Coffee for me, please!” you called after his retreating back. You peeked out after him and watched him walk away. Man, his ass looked great in those pants.

“It will be decaf!”

“I want real coffee, Piotr!”

He might have replied to you, but you'd closed the door already. You grabbed the closest clean pair of pants and shirt that you could find. The clothes you grabbed may have been workout clothes, but after weeks and weeks of wearing your uniform, anything else was better than your uniform. And you’d make an attempt to look nice for the party tonight since everyone would be there - one person in particular, of course.

Speaking of that particular person, you scurried out of your room to join him down in the kitchen, locking your door behind you.

As you walked through the halls, you passed by the residents of the mansion milling around the dorm halls. Some you knew, but most were foreign to you. Your friends were either off on missions or had left the mansion a long time ago. Some were dead, memorialized on the walls. The few who had chosen to stay at the mansion were teachers now or stationed at a base far, far away.

The kitchen was on the first floor, just off to the side of the main hall. It had been remodeled, you remarked offhandedly as you sat down at the table. Colossus hunched over the new stove, fussing over the teakettle and a pair of mugs. The coffee pot next to him hummed and dripped black gold into the pot. Next to the coffee pot, the bag of coffee (not decaf!) was still open.

Colossus grabbed the mugs and sat down in front of you; his chair squeaked in despair but held steady. He passed your mug off to you. “I found some regular coffee you left last time you were home.”

“And here I remember you scolding me for drinking coffee so late in the afternoon,” you teased. You took a healthy sip from the scalding mug - thankfully, hot temperatures didn’t bother you (thanks, mutation). "Why the sudden change of heart?"

“I suspect that the party tonight will last much longer than anticipated,” Colossus replied, smirking. He blew on his mug of tea and took a ginger sip, grimacing. Unlike you, scalding temperatures sucked for him. “Your team makes a habit of partying until dawn.”

“Hey, we clean up dead bodies,” you said. You’d downed almost half the mug already and decided it was probably better to sip for the rest of the meeting. “Work hard, play hard.”

"They learned it from you," Colossus hummed. He sat his mug down. As suspected, he had an ~adult conversation~ planned. “You do not seem excited to be home.”

“Oh, no, I’m happy to be home,” you insisted. Your fingernails were suddenly more interesting than anything else in the room, particularly the man looking at you like a stray puppy. “It’s just hard to let go.”

“Adjusting to a less stressful situation is not easy, but you will have teaching to occupy your time and that’s certainly stressful,” Colossus agreed. His hand twitched as if he meant to stop you from peeling off your cuticles until your fingers bled, but he kept his hands on his tea mug. “And you have me - I have been through this already. Everyone in the mansion is your family, and we are all here for you.”

“I’ll adjust,” you replied shortly.

“And you know if you need to talk about it…”

“You know you’re the first person I’ll run to,” you said softly, cutting him off. You sat up straighter in your chair and took another sip of coffee. “Enough with the counseling session, today is supposed to be a happy day! Let’s talk about teaching!”

Colossus eyed you thoughtfully but conceded. “We will go over the lesson plans in detail later. You will start by teaching the middle-grades age group beginning next week. I want you to teach the little ones, but they are a bit rowdy and I don’t want to scare you away from teaching on your first day.”

“I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“You will also be assigned a trainee,” Colossus continued. “I have not finalized who will be assigned to you, but I have a solid idea.”

“Anyone I know?”

"I do not think so," he hummed. “She arrived while you were gone last time. She has similar abilities and a similar temperament. It is likely she will be assigned to cleanup upon graduation.”

“So, I’ll be training my replacement?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Colossus looked away, sheepish. “It was not intentional, but yes.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You pushed your mug away after draining the last bit of coffee. Colossus always kept a bag for you in the pantry, but you were pretty sure he didn’t know you knew. You knew you hadn’t left a bag of your regular brew behind - a bag of coffee grounds was one of the first things that went into your luggage. Hell, you’d started bringing your own coffee pot onto the X-Jet because your team would throw hands over the coffee pot. 

“I will come and check on you periodically,” Colossus said. “But I expect that you will be fine. Do you have any questions?”

You’d have questions when you actually started teaching, but you didn’t at that moment. Really, you just wanted to sit at the table and talk to him. Not about your feelings or teaching - just talking.

“No questions,” you replied. “Not about teaching, at least. You are coming to the party tonight, right?”

“I would not miss it!” Colossus said. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, grinning proudly. “I made the cake. And helped decorate.”

You laughed. “Of course, you did.”

“I am glad that you are home,” Colossus said simply, “and I wanted to be the one to welcome you back. Also, the cake is chocolate.”

“It’s not that protein cake stuff you made last time I was home, is it?”

“No," he smirked. "We will have plenty of time for protein cake after training tomorrow.”

You paled. “You’re not leading the workout, are you?”

Colossus could never be described as sinister. Intimidating, maybe. Scary, sometimes. But never sinister. Yet, his answering grin toed that line. “What better way to welcome you back than by leading your first workout?”

You could think of several ways to welcome you back that were better than suffering through one of Colossus’ workouts, naming locking him in your bedroom with you. You guessed that he was probably on the same page, but he wasn’t going to say it.

As long as you’d been friends, you’d been back and forth with the unspoken thing - that stupid mutual attraction that neither of you addressed because your respective lifestyles were explosive and hectic. Once Colossus had retired from missions, the unspoken thing had gotten more intense - a pining for you that you could sense without him saying it. It had gotten worse for you, too. It’s just that you weren’t ready to come home - until the day that you decided it was finally time.

Basically, last week. Damn your stubbornness.

“You’re going to run me into the ground before my first day,” you whined, though it was half-hearted.

“Tough workout is good for you!”

“Right, okay,” you replied. You stood up, grabbed both empty mugs, and marched to the sink. “I’m gonna go get ready for this wild party.”

"Leave the dishes. I'll get them."

"Too late - I beat you to it."

-----   -----   -----

You'd never seen your name written this many times. Everything had your name scrawled on it. The streamers hanging from the ceiling, resplendent black and gold, all spelled out your name and “Happy Retirement!” Your cake spelled out your name in Colossus’ careful block lettering. Even the wrapping paper on the handful of gifts in the center of the table spelled out your name (how the hell did they find that?). You really weren’t thrilled about the “retirement” part, but you could deal with it for the rest of the night.

You were greeted by a round of screaming and applause as soon as you walked down the stairs, started by none other than your own rowdy team. They'd already been drinking and had probably started as soon as the jet landed. The younger X-Men joined in, mostly just looking for a reason to cut loose and cheer. Your older friends joined in, much more subdued than the rest, but much more sincere with their claps on the back and gently pointed age jokes. Colossus’ team, headed up by the Man of Steel himself, presented you with a giant slice of cake and an even larger can of beer.

You knew your face must have been red from all the attention, but as soon as you dug into the cake and chugged half your beer, the embarrassment started to fade. The attention was awkward, but this was your party for your retirement, and damn it if you weren’t about to have a good time. You’d always enjoyed a good party, and that night was as good as any to get splendidly plastered with your team after a job well done.

You were two sheets to the wind in when Wade Wilson handed you your third can of beer. He, like most of the people in attendance, had elected to wear his uniform (you had chosen not to - you had to retire your current suit anyhow). He was wet from where he’d spilled beer all over the fake leather.

“I say we do shots after Shiny Jesus goes to bed for the night,” Wade cheered, offering his drink in a toast.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” You tapped his can in toast and took a long drink. “You’d never believe it, but he can out-drink everyone here. Shots go down for him like water.”

“You’re shitting me!”

You shook your head. Bad idea. The world spun topsy-turvy and took its sweet time before it righted itself. “Nope. I convinced Logan to smuggle me a bottle of straight vodka for my eighteenth birthday. Couple hours in, Kitty and I were puking in the corner - man, I got sick that night - and Piotr was still taking shots with frickin’ Wolverine like it was nothing.”

“That Colossus? Giant metal boy scout?” Wade stared, slack-jawed, over at Colossus, who was picking at the greens on his plate (not a single dessert in sight). “What happened? And what do I have to do to get him to cut loose like that?”

You shrugged. “If you figure it out, lemme know. I think that was the last time I’ve ever seen him do that - not that either of us has really been home long enough at the same time to party like that. He’s always been so responsible. I mean, I’m responsible too, but he’s just cut from a different cloth.”

Which was true. You had your irresponsible moments, but for the most part, you had your shit together. You couldn’t remember a time when Colossus had been anything less than poised and organized.

Wade leaned against the wall next to you. He had to be at least a full case in already. “So, uh, does he know?”

“I assume you’re talking about my feelings," you snorted. "Can’t imagine why people keep talking to me about that - it’s not like I’m an emotional disaster right now or anything. Yeah, he knows. He’s always known. It’s mutual.”

Wade paused. “And why are you not,” he gesticulated wildly, like he was working through some weird, cosmic math problem, “a thing? Like, why are you down here at this party instead of getting the Metal D?”

“Kind of hard to be a thing when you’re never home at the same time,” you replied, glancing over to where Colossus had set up camp. He was currently entertaining Professor X and a younger X-Man that you didn’t know, still stabbing at the salad on his plate. “Or only home for a couple of days at a time.”

“You know what you should do?” Wade asked, a sparkle in his eye. He chugged the last of his beer, crushed the can against his head, and tossed the garbage off into the corner.

“I have a feeling I know where this is going…”

“Sneak away, take the Tin Man upstairs, and get a real homecoming,” Wade said like it was some fantastic revelation or a particularly scandalous secret. “And if you get loud, we’ll all pretend tomorrow that it was the guy with the pigeon wings.”

You laughed. “I’m not opposed to the idea, but I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna go for that.”

“You won’t know unless you try!”

“Except I do know,” you replied, idly watching the way Colossus' muscles bulged every time he flexed his arms. “I think he thinks I’m going to run off on a mission and be gone by morning. It’s going to require finesse to show him that I’m home for good.”

“In that case,” Wade pushed off from the wall and draped his arm around your shoulders. He reeked of cheap cologne and trashy beer. “I hereby offer my services as your wingman, and hearing no objections, appoint myself to the position.”

Wade stuck out his hand for you to shake.

You peered down at his leather-bound hand. Wade was still something of an anomaly to you, but he seemed invested. Goofy and mildly annoying as he was, he obviously meant well. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a little help…

You took his hand and shook. “It’s a deal.”

[vicmc624]

Highshool horror

Pairing: Teen Dean x Teen Reader

Word count: 4045

Warnings: child abuse, attempted sexual assualt

Summary: After Dean meets the reader he finds out her dad is abusing her

Masterlist 

Senior year, you were counting down the months til you turned 18 and could escape this place. You couldn't take living with your dad anymore. He was amazing growing up, always there for you. Loving and affectionate. That was until your mom died when you were 14. Since then he has spent his days getting drunk and angry. He only let you leave the house to go to school and then he expected you to be home right after. Most days he went to the bar after work but if he didn't and you weren't home when he got there, he was pissed. He would grab your arm and squeeze til it bruised. He would sometimes slap you, or punch you in the stomach. Leaving no visible bruises. Some days it didn't matter if you did everything right, he would still be drunk enough to hurt you. He expected the house to always be cleaned. You did all the laundry and he expected dinner to be ready by 5. Most days he didn't get home til after 10 but it didn't matter. You were only allowed to go to the store once a week, so you had to plan out all the meals ahead of time. If he wasn't home you would make a plate and leave it in the microwave for him. He would usually heat it up and eat before passing out in his recliner. One day you decided to wait to make dinner, you weren't hungry yet and you figured he wouldn't know you made it later. But this day he actually showed up at home before leaving to the bar because he forgot something. He hit you so many times in the back and stomach that you couldn't get up off the floor for a long time. You laid there crying for hours. You knew going to school would be painful but you had no choice. He never let you miss, even if you were sick. He requested the school call him anytime you aren't there. So the next day you slowly got ready, trying not to cry from the pain. You got dressed in your usual outfit. Leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. You never wore tight clothes or short sleeves. You didn't want anyone to see the bruises. You were walking slowly in the hallway between classes when you met him for the first time. You had your eyes down and you didn't see him right away. You ran right into his chest, nearly falling back. He reached out and caught you, causing you to flinch in pain.

  “Are you ok? Sorry, I wasn't watching where is was going. My name's Dean. I'm new here and trying to find room 112.”

You looked up and couldn't stop staring into his amazing green eyes. You stared for a while before he cleared his throat. Blush rose to your cheeks as you looked away.

“Sorry, uh, sure. I am actually heading to that class too. Follow me.”

“I didn't get your name.” Dean said.

“Oh, uh, it y/n”

“Beautiful name.” He said with a wink, causing you to blush even more.

Turns out you had several more classes with him and at lunch time he sat next to you. It was strange eating with someone because you always sat alone. Since everything started happening with your dad you shut everyone out. Not wanted to explain why you could never hang out after school. Not wanting to chance someone seeing the bruises. You heard people talk about you, calling you a loser because you didn't have any friends, but you shut them out. Only a few more months and you were gone. Now with this hot guy sitting with you, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. You could feel the panic rising in your chest but you took deep breaths to calm yourself down. Dean didn't seem to notice and kept talking to you. Asking questions about the town and the school. You answered automatically, but when he started asking questions about you, you clammed up.

“So what do you like to do for fun around here?” he asked.

“Umm, I don't really do too much. Mostly stay home.”

“Would you maybe want to hang out after school? You could show me around town more.”

“I can't, my dad is really strict, I have to be home right after school for chores.”

“What about this weekend, would you want to go out, we could see a movie or something.”

“I'm sorry, my dad doesn't let me date.” you said looking at the table. You could feel the panic coming back so you got up with your tray and left without another word. Dean got up to follow you reaching for your arm after he put his tray away. You flinched and he noticed. “Are you ok?” he asked.

“I'm fine. Really, there are plenty of girls here that would love for you to take them out. I just can't be one of them.”

“Is it because you don't want to? I can take a hint, we could just be friends.”

“No it's not that, I just need to concentrate on school, senior year and all, and I don't have time for a boyfriend.” Your grades had tanked because most night were spent cleaning up your dad's drunken messes, or laying there in pain. But you couldn't say that.

“Ok how about this, we be friends, eat lunch together, hang out between classes and see where it goes.”

You knew you should say no but in that moment all you wanted was to spend as much time with Dean as you could. “Ok, I think I can do that.” you said with a shy smile.

“Good, how about after school, I walk you home and we can talk.”

“Sounds good. I'll meet you out front after school.”

You saw each other a few more times throughout the day and at the end of the day he was waiting for you with a shorter boy.

“Y/n, this is my little brother Sammy. Sammy, this is y/n”

“It's Sam”, the boy said reaching his hand out.

“Nice to meet you Sam. I guess you are both going to walk me home?”

“Yep, that's the plan.”

You all started walking and talking. You found out more about them, that they move around a lot. That their mother had died and it was just them with their Dad now. You told them it was the same for you. They walked you home every day for a few weeks and it was nice. You were getting closer and closer to Dean. You couldn't deny the feelings you were having but you knew you would never act on them. That was one of your Dad's biggest rules, no boys. Occasionally Dean would nudge you with his shoulder or put his hand on your back. He noticed you wince in pain but he didn't ask about it. He could tell you wouldn't say anything.

It was the end of the 4th week walking home with the boys. After they left you started to gather everything for dinner. You realized you had forgotten something at the store. Since it's just a few blocks away you ran out quick to get it. When you got home you were surprised to see your Dad home already. You knew he was mad right away.

“Where the hell have you been!!” he yelled causing you to flinch back.

“I forgot something for dinner, I just ran to the store.”

“Don't lie to me” he shouted before slapping you across the face. “You were probably out with a boy weren't you, you slut!”

“No Dad, I swear, there is no boy, see.” you say holding up the bag from the store.

“You know you are not suppose to leave this house after school!” He turned around and grabbed the yard stick from on the desk. “Take off your sweatshirt and turn around.” he said. “And I better not hear you scream, don't want the neighbors hear you.”

You did what he said and turned around placing your hands on the desk. The first time the yard stick hit you it was right across your shoulder blades and you bit your lip to hold back the screams. He continued to hit you all across your back, one was diagonal from your shoulder blade to your lower back. A few across the top of your thighs and on his last one he put all his strength into it. You felt it slice open the skin on your lower back and you crumpled to the floor. He threw it back down on the desk and grabbed his keys walking out the door. You laid there sobbing, when you tried to move you could feel all the marks on your back and legs. You got up slowly and went to your room. Once you took your tank top off you could see all the welts that had formed. The skin raised up and red. The welts would most likely be gone by tomorrow but there would be bruises for sure. The cut on your lower back was oozing blood out. You got some gauze and placed it on there the best you could before wrapping it around your stomach a few times to hold it in place. You laid on your stomach and fell into a restless sleep. You back felt worse in the morning, but you knew you had to go to school. You took off the bandage for your shower and noticed it started bleeding again. You re wrapped it before gathering your things for school. There was no way you could wear your backpack so you just grabbed your books and carried them out. That day at school was the hardest. You struggled to sit at each desk. The bruises on the back of your thighs aching every time you sat. You had to sit completely straight to keep your back from touching the back rest. You felt like you were going to break down crying any minute but you told yourself to hang on. It was Friday, if you could make it through today you would have the weekend to let them heal. After school Dean was waiting for you like always. This time however he held your hand as you walked. When you were about a block from your house he stopped and you looked up at him. He leaned down and brushed his lips over yours then pulled away. You couldn't stop the smile on your lips or the blush of your cheeks. You leaned up and kissed him again, this time his arms circled your back to pull you closer but you immediately yelped in pain, tears springing from your eyes on their own. Dean let go right away and took a step back. “Are you ok?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, I just fell yesterday and landed on my back wrong. I have to go.” With that you ran the rest of the way home and straight to your room to cry. After a while you finished your chores and cooked dinner before laying in your bed again. You were ready for bed so you were in just a tank top and sleep shorts. You heard your dad come in and his steps down the hall. You jumped when your door slammed open.

“I saw you today! You little whore, kissing some boy down the street from our house. Now all the neighbors know what a slut you are. How can you embarrass me like this!”

He grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you off the bed before backhanding you. You fell to the floor trying to explain but he didn't give you a chance before pulling you up by your neck and slamming you against the wall. Meanwhile Dean was coming to check on you, he knew which window was yours and he was gonna ask you to open it but when he peered in he saw your Dad holding you by the throat and he could hear him shouting.

“You little bitch! I gave you everything, but I guess all you really want is some punk to fill your cunt up with his cock.” he said reaching down between your legs. Your eyes went wide, he has never touched you this way before. “Is that it, the only thing I'm not giving you is my big dick.” He pushed his body against you leaving his hand between your legs.

Dean tried to open the window but it was locked. He ran around to the front of the house and picked the lock. Running towards your room as fast as he could. When he burst in your dad was still holding your by the throat and rubbing his body against you. Dean shoved him away from you and in his drunken state he fell to the floor. You sank down sobbing while your dad got back up. He charged at Dean and tried to punch him, but Dean easily dodged it before punching your dad in the face repeatedly. You dad fell back to the floor where Dean punched him several more times before getting up and kicking him in the stomach over and over. Once your dad was laying there unconscious Dean rushed over to you to help you up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked once you calmed down.

“I was worried, I wanted to check on you and when I looked in your window I saw him....” Dean said, his eyes darkening.

“He saw you kiss me today, and he just lost it. He's never.....he's...he's never touched me like that before.” you starts sobbing again. Dean calms you down and tells you to pack a bag and to bring everything to want to keep. He's not going to let you stay there. You pack your clothes and a few other things. Then you got some pictures of your mom. Leaving the ones with your dad in them there. He guided you out of the house and you walked with him to his motel room he was staying at. His Dad had arrived while he was gone and was sitting on the bed waiting. As soon as Dean walked in he was shouting.

“Dean Winchester! Where the hell have you been!”

He didn't see you walk in behind Dean and you flinched back when he shouted, running into the wall with your back causing you to yelp in pain. You started to panic and feel like you couldn't breathe. While you were struggling, Dean put his hands on your shoulders. “It's ok, sweetheart, he won't hurt you. Just breathe. Your safe.” While your breathing slowed John kept his eyes on you and his son. He felt bad that he had scared you. When you were calm Dean pulled you further into the room and you saw Sam sitting on a bed. Sam waved and you gave him a little wave.

John was looking at Dean waiting for an explanation. “Sir, this is y/n. She is a friend from school. I..uh..I, she's needs help.”

“It's nice to meet you y/n. I'm sorry I scared you. Come on in and have a seat, I'm going to talk to my son right over hear for a second.”

You went over to where Sam was sitting on the bed and sat next to him. John and Dean went over to the other side of the room to talk. You were getting hot so you got up and gingerly took off your sweatshirt. You still had just a tank top on underneath. You could hear John and Dean whispering even though you couldn't hear what they were saying you knew Dean was telling his dad what happened.

“Dad, y/n's dad was hurting her. I hugged her today and when I touched her back she cried out. I knew something was wrong so I went to check on her. When I looked in her window her dad was...”

“What son, just tell me.”

“He was holding her against the wall by her throat and he had his hand between her legs.”

John's eyes darkened when he heard that and glanced in your direction. He gasped when he saw you. You had your back to them and they could see blood staining the back of your tank top and dark bruises. The cut must have reopened when you dad was holding you against the wall.

“Is he still alive?” John asked.

“Yes sir, but I beat him pretty good. He tried to punch me and when I punched him I just couldn't stop.”

“It's ok son, I would have done the same or probably worse.”

He made his way over to you while you turned around. Now that he was facing you he could see the bruises on your neck and arms. The bruise on your face more prominent now.

“Y/n I can see blood on the back of your shirt, do you mind if I check out your injuries to make sure you're ok.”

You just nodded and turned around. He sat on the bed to get a closer look while you stood in front of him. “Ok darling, I'm gonna just lift your shirt a little. I won't hurt you.” You don't know why but you trusted him. Maybe it was because he reminded you of Dean. So you just nodded. John lifted up your shirt and gasped when he saw all the dark purple bruises across your back. “What did he use to do this.” he said in a whisper.

“A...a...yard stick.” you say trying to hold back your sobs. Deans heart fell. How could your own father hurt you like that.

“Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry he did this to you. This cut is going to need stitches. I can take you to the hospital or I can stitch it here. I don't have anything for the pain so it will hurt.”

“No hospital, please. I don't want to talk to the police.”

“Alright darling. I'm going to get started. It will be easier if you lay down on the bed. Dean hold her hand would you?”

“Of course.” Dean sat on the floor by your head and held your hand. You bit your lip to hold back the scream like you always do. You squeezed Dean's hand and when it was done John stood up.

“Wow, you are one tough girl. Didn't even cry out once.” John said.

“I'm used to it, my dad always told me no matter what, I couldn't scream. Are you going to send me back?”

“Never. Do you have any other family you could stay with?”

“No, after my mom died it was just the two of us. I was planning on waiting til I was 18 and then I was going to leave.”

“Where to? College?”

“No, my grades aren't good enough. Most nights he was drunk and when he hurt me I couldn't move for a while. I never got my homework done and even nights I did he would come in and take it. Shred it right in front of me. He always said he was never going to let me go.”

“Well you will never have to see him again. Why don't you get some rest, I'll sleep on the floor and you can have my bed.” You laid down on the bed on your stomach and drifted to sleep. Dean was in the bed next to you and Sam was on the couch. John was laying on the floor when he started to hear you whimper in your sleep. He was going to get up when you woke up screaming. Before he had the chance to move Dean was already comforting you. He laid down next to you and rubbed his fingers through your hair til you fell back asleep. John was going to make him go back to his bed but he saw how calm you were with him so instead he just got up off the floor and laid in the bed Dean was in. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just leave you here, but how could he bring you with him. Bring you into a life of hunting.

The next morning the decision was made for him. While he was out getting breakfast he heard a couple of officers talking at the diner.

“Yeah, someone beat the crap out of him and he says the boy took his daughter after beating her too. He is scared that the boy is going to do far worse to her. We have officers at the school now. The principle came in on a Saturday just to show us the files for the new kid. I think they said his name is Dean. Once we know where he lives, we are issuing a warrant for his arrest.” the first officer said.

“I just can't believe it, this used to be such a nice town. I can't believe we now have a kidnapping to deal with. This is the first one I've ever been on. Hopefully we find her soon so we can return her to her dad. He's worried sick about her.”

John got his order and walked out quickly trying not to draw attention. As soon as he got back to the motel he told the boys to pack up. “Y/n your father called the police. He is telling them that Dean broke in and beat him and you up before kidnapping you. We need to leave now. I heard the police say that when they find you they are taking you home. I think it's best if you come with us.”

“Are you sure you don't mind? I won't be a bother I swear.”

“Of course I don't mind. But you need to know somethings about us before you decide if you want to stay. I'll let Dean explain in the car but right now we have to hurry. The cops are at the school looking for Dean's address.”

All four of you piled into the Impala and left town. You thought you would be a little sad to leave the town you grew up in but all you felt was relief. Dean sat in the back with you and explained to you about when they did. They are hunters and he told you about all of the monsters they hunted. They offered to take you anywhere you wanted and help you get set up somewhere but you knew you didn't want to be away from Dean. So you asked if you could stay and if they would train you. You told them you never wanted to feel helpless again. John taught you about shooting and you trained on how to fight with Sam and Dean. They all showed you how to do research, which you were surprisingly good at. You knew you were smart but when your grade went down you felt like a failure. Months later you were sitting in a diner with the boys. John and Sam on one side, Dean right next to you. You and Dean were officially a thing, John was reluctant about it at first but since you are both 18 now he finally agreed. You finally felt at peace. You felt like you belonged somewhere and you were happy for the first time since your mom died. You were so grateful Dean cared enough about you to check on you. If he hadn't been there that night who knows what would have happened. John would have taken him to the next hunt and you would have been alone. Dean has his arm around you and he kisses the side of your head. You were finally happy.

[jackr4bb1t]

a quiz thingy

?This is seriously going to get personal, you ready? yes

?If you were caught cheating, would you fess up? i wouldn't be cheating. :") but when i was a young dumb kid who did, i immediately confessed ksjdhfkjsdhf

?The last time you felt honestly broken? um idk yesterday or the day before i dont remember when that was because time is all blurring together now

?Are you craving something? yessss

?If you could have one thing right now what would it be? kat

?Would you rather have ten kids, or none? NONE!!!!!!!!!

?What do you hear right now? bf typing and bitching loudly

?Is your bed against more than one of your walls? yes (two)

?What’s on your mind right now? "What's on your mind right now?"

?Are you there for your friends? no :")

?Last person to see you cry? sjdkhfkjsdhfjshdfkjshdfkjh kat :")

?What do you do when you get nervous? uhhhh idk skdjhfkjsdhf I just kinda get really quiet and clammed up B') i dunno how to describe it. and it really depends on the context.

?Be honest, do you like people in general? i think my answer actually might be yes??

?How old do you think you will be when you finally have kids? it is absolutely never going to happen under any circumstance

?Does anyone completely understand you? i think my answer actually might be yes??

?Do you have a reason to smile right now? i'm literally smiling right now because kat is saying some dumb shit thats cracking me up as im trying to type this skjdfhksjdfh

?Has anyone told you they don’t ever wanna lose you? yeahksjdhsudjfh

?Do you tell your mum or dad everything? ABSOLUTELY NOT LMAO

?Does it matter to you if your boyfriend or girlfriend smokes? like cigarettes?? yeah idk i find the smell pretty gross so it's definitely something i'd prefer not to have to smell all the time kjsdhfkjdhsf

?Are you going to get hurt anytime soon by someone uhhhh I SURE HOPE NOT

?This time last year, can you remember who you liked? ksdjfhskjdfh pretty much no one. i was actually mostly single for a couple of years there. for the first time in my life i went completely without any serious romantic interest and focused on myself instead. it was an interesting experience.

?Do you think more about the past, present, or future? definitely future skjdhfjkshdf i hardly ever think about the past or even the present

?How many hours of sleep do you get a night? thankfully most nights i get a solid 7-8. sometimes i'll only get like 5. but other nights i'll get like 10. the majority of the time though, it's in the 7-8 range.

?Are you easy to get along with? yes

?Do you hate the last girl you had a conversation with? no

?What was the last drink that you put in your mouth? water

?What size bed do you have? queen

?Do you start the water before you get in the shower or when you get in? before wtf

?Do you like the rain? yes as long as i'm not in it kjsdhfjdf. (but i'm fine being in it if it's light.)

?Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? in this exact moment genuinely no skjdhfjhd (unless by some brief passing coincidence)

?Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t do lots ksjdhfj

?Would people refer to you as a goodie goodie, bad news, or neither? probably neither? i think/hope?

?Who were you last in the car with, besides family? uhhHHHhhhhhHH JIM

?What’s the last movie you saw in theaters and with who? CATS WITH KAT OR MAYBE IT WAS SONIC???? i cant remember which order we saw those in skdjfhkjsdfh

?Have you ever kissed someone who had a boyfriend/ girlfriend? i'm actually pretty sure the answer to this is no so like sjdfksjdhfj wow yay i did it

?Have you ever been hurt by someone you never thought would hurt you? yep

?Your parents are out of town. Would you throw a massive party? jsdkhfkjsd no, i never did any such thing. although i would have people over that i wasn't supposed to.

?Do you regret a past relationship? all of them

?Would you rather spend a Friday night at a concert or a crazy party? why are those my only options -sobs- IT DEPENDS ON MY MOOD SKJDHFJKSDHF I GUESS I'LL PICK THE CONCERT CUZ IT SEEMS LESS SOCIAL B'D AND I AM SURE THERE ARE QUITE A FEW BANDS/SINGERS THAT WOULD BE REALLY COOL TO SEE LIVE.

?Do you tend to fall for the same type of person over and over? i definitely used to ksjdhfkjdshf and i was barking up the wrong tree the entire time

?Have you made a joke about somebody that made them cry? I really hope not skjdfhsjdkfh I've never been the "roasting" type idk sdjfh I've never really like... poked fun at people idk that type of humour has never really been funny to me? idk how to word what i'm trying to say ksjdfhjsdfh basically I just don't really ever make jokes about people because I don't find that type of humour to be entertaining.

?Do you care too much about your appearance? i care about it a LOT less than i used to but i still hate myself kjsdfhgkjfdg so i suppose that is an indication that i care too much

?Are you a jealous person? romantically? yes. literally any other context? no

?Have you bought any clothing items in the last week? no

?Do you miss anyone? yes :(

?Last person who made you cry? uhhhhhh

?Does your ex piss you off? no skjdfhsjkd

?What are you doing tomorrow? just some stupid bullshit chores/errands/etc. woo hoooo.

?Are you the type of person who has a new boyfriend/ girlfriend every week? lmao no (although i was sorta like that in high school sdlkfjhksdjfh)

?Is there anyone you want to come see you? yes

?Have you ever been cheated on? yes

?Ever given your all to someone who walked away? not really

?Do you like cotton candy? yes as a treat

?Who was the last person you had a serious conversation with? kat

?Do you have siblings? yes

?Have you ever fallen asleep on someone? yes

?How has the past week been for you? hell

?Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? i dont really have friends of any sex except for my partner and we are the same sex sex sex sex sex GAY GAY GAY

?What’s on your mind right now? SEX SEX SEX GAY GAY GAY SEX GAY SEX GAY SEX

?What were you doing at midnight last night? IDK PROBABLY CRYYIINGGG oh wait i was at work skdjfhskjfh waiting for jim to be ready to leave he always stays til exactly midnight unlike most people who will leave around 1158 sdkjfhskdjfh HE HAS TO FOLLOW THE RULLLESSS but i don't mind cuz he's giving me a ride which is cool so i don't mind to wait the extra minutes til midnight B) i mean, i am getting paid to be there sooo.

?What is your current mood? NEEDY

?Who was the first person you talked to today? KAT

?Will this week be a good one? YEAH WE'RE GETTING OUR SHIT TOGETHER

?Anything happen to you within the past month that made you really happy? I'm sure there are things that have happened B')

?Who were you with last night kathel who was horrifying me as i was half asleep. talking at length about how hes gonna get a garfield tramp stamp. -sobs.- i fell asleep to that.

?Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? LMAO BITCH WHAT DID I JUST SAY. YOU STUPID???

?Next time you will kiss someone hopefully not too much longerrrr B(

?Who should start the kiss, the girl or the boy? wowza

?Do you have any plans for the weekend? it's monday you fucking whore, i hardly have a plan for what i'm doing in this current present moment let alone several days from now

oh the quiz is over now

[lithalwrites]

Sometimes Life is a Romcom

Chapter 8 

Life continued for the next two weeks, with fewer chances for Wei Ying to torment Lan Zhan than he would have liked. He was sure that Lan Zhan was avoiding coming to the café when he worked, because whenever he came in when Wei Ying was working, he never showed up during the same shift again. It was only a matter of time before he would have to give up, since his shifts were not fixed. Wei Ying awaited the day with baited breath.

Outside of work and class, they didn’t get the chance to work on the project, because the term had hit a particularly busy mark. At least for Lan Zhan, apparently. Since Wei Ying was undeclared and taking a mishmash of random courses, his courses seldom overlapped when it came to assignments and tests. It was then that he realized that he didn’t actually know what Lan Zhan’s major was.

“You’ve been working together for what, a month now? And you don’t know what his major is?” Jiang Cheng asked, his tone laden with judgement.

“I didn’t ask you to come see me at work so you could attack me, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Ying said.

“You didn’t ask me to come at all. I’m just here because I didn’t believe it when you said you have a job. I was sure you were just spending your time doing something stupid.”

“Wow, so little faith in me,” Wei Ying said. “I’m offended.”

“Why are you offended? Do I need to remind you about what happened the last time you said you had a job?”

“That was one time, Jiang Cheng. You should let it go.”

“It was one time too many!” Jiang Cheng hissed, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. His frown actually seemed to disappear a little. “Damn, this is really good coffee.”

“We get the best, ethically sourced, locally sourced, fair trade coffee beans to make all our coffee,” Wei Ying said, putting on his best customer service voice. “But Lan Zhan never orders any.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and left.

 “Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying said happily, as his history partner walked into the café at the end of his shift. “You’re late. I just finished working.”

“We are going to get tea,” Lan Zhan said, ignoring Wei Ying completely.

Wei Ying opened his mouth, but Lan Zhan glided past him and ordered two teas, handing one to him. He led them to a table, and looked at Wei Ying, waiting. Wei Ying took a sip. It tasted like tea, with hints of lemon, which was to say that his mind was not blown.

“It tastes like…tea. Leaf juice,” Wei Ying said.

Lan Zhan huffed and sipped his own tea. “It’s clearly different from what you gave me.”

Who would have thought that Lan Zhan would get so passionate over tea? Granted, his expression still hadn’t changed much from his normal countenance, but he was talking in longer sentences than he usually did, and his tone was a little less neutral than normal. Wei Ying was delighted. “Is it? I can’t really tell. Sorry, Lan Zhan, I’m a peasant who doesn’t really appreciate tea. I guess I’ll have to try more types to truly learn the difference.”

To his surprise, Lan Zhan nodded thoughtfully, as if what Wei Ying had suggested was a very good plan. If Lan Zhan wanted to spend more time with him and buy him tea, he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe he would even actually start to appreciate it. Yanli would be so surprised, and her and Jiang Cheng’s mother would be shocked at the thought of Wei Ying knowing anything about tea.

“Maybe we’ll have to try all the cafes in town,” Wei Ying said, seeing how far he could push it.

“Perhaps,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Ying’s gave Lan Zhan his most devilish grin. “That means we’ll be spending a lot of time together, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan looked pained, but less so than Wei Ying would have expected. Maybe he was already starting to grow on Lan Zhan. There was always room for more growth.

“By the way, Lan Zhan, what’s your major?” Wei Ying asked.

“Physiology and history,” Lan Zhan replied.

“You’re doing a double major? Wow, you’re doing enough for the both of us.”

Lan Zhan frowned at this. “You’re undeclared?”

“Wow, so sharp,” Wei Ying said. “Yeah, I’m undeclared. Couldn’t find something I’m really interested in, so it’s a little bit of everything for now. Maybe I’ll just graduate with a generic degree.”  

Lan Zhan looked a little scandalized at the idea that anyone would want to do that, but didn’t give him the lecture Wei Ying had expected to get. Maybe Lan Zhan was getting used to him, or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Only one of these was a good thing.

“Have you worked on the performance for the project?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. When do I get to hear it?”

Lan Zhan frowned at him again. “We have to record it together.”

“What?” Wei Ying asked.

“I’m not doing all the work myself,” Lan Zhan said. “You play an instrument, so you will be joining me.”

Wei Ying laughed. “Oh. That’s what you meant. Yeah, sure, I’m down. Just let me know when and where. Have you written the song? You can send it to me so I can practice my part before we get together to record it.”

Lan Zhan pulled out his phone, tapped away, and Wei Ying’s phone buzzed. He had received an email with the music score. He was impressed with the efficiency. He flagged the email to check out later and sent Lan Zhan a cat meme.

Lan Zhan looked at it but didn’t even smile. Wei Ying would have to try harder.

“Let’s do it next weekend,” Lan Zhan said.

“The recording?” Wei Ying asked. “Isn’t that too soon? I have to practice, and then we have to practice together.”

“The project is due in a month.”

“Yes. A month. So we should practice together before we actually go ahead and record it. Or are you trying to get rid of me, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan opened his mouth, probably to agree with Wei Ying’s statement, but Wei Ying was saved from having to act heartbroken by the arrival of Nie Huaisang. This time, he didn’t have a bird cage with him. Instead, he was holding a painted mug by the handle.

“Hey, Nie Huaisang!” Wei Ying said, waving to catch his attention. Nie Huaisang turned towards them and waved back, joining them at the table.

“Hello, hello,” he said, setting the mug gingerly on the table. Wei Ying reached out to pick it up, but Nie Huaisang slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch! I don’t want the paint to get ruined.”

“Did you do it yourself?” Wei Ying asked. He leaned close to look at the mug, and whistled at how intricate the details were.

Nie Huaisang nodded proudly. “Yes. I just need to make sure it doesn’t get ruined on the way home. It’s for my brother.”

“You always seem to be making gifts for people, don’t you?” Wei Ying asked. “When will it be my turn?” he added with a suggestive grin.

Nie Huaisang blushed and stammered. “Um, what would you like?”

“A token of your deepest affection,” Wei Ying said shamelessly, watching in delight as Nie Huaisang’s blush deepened further.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he squeaked.

“I’m just kidding,” Wei Ying said, slapping him on the back. “I like the mug. It’s really cool.” He looked up at Lan Zhan, who was looking judgementally at him. He wondered if he had offended his sensibilities by flirting with a man. Well, he’d have to get over it, if that was the case. It was the twenty-first century, after all.

“Okay, good,” Nie Huaisang said, still red. Wei Ying decided to take pity on him.

“How’s your history project going?” he asked.

“It’s okay. My partner doesn’t do much, which sucks,” Nie Huaisang said. “But it’s okay. We’ll get something done. I don’t really care as long as we pass.”

“Man, I wish you were my partner instead of this one right here,” Wei Ying said. “We could both just put the minimum amount of effort then. Lan Zhan works me to the bone,” he told Nie Huaisang with a grin, watching him look at Lan Zhan with something like fear in his eyes. He wondered if Lan Zhan would defend himself. Sadly, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to care about Wei Ying slandering him. He would have to try a different tactic next time.

“Hmm, okay, I should run home now, or Jiang Cheng will kill me for tying to avoid chores again,” Wei Ying said, looking at the time. “Next weekend?” he asked Lan Zhan, who nodded.

“Bye, Nie Huaisang, Lan Zhan. I’ll see you next weekend, it’s a date! Thanks for the tea,” he said, winking at Lan Zhan. He wished he could wait to enjoy the affront on Lan Zhan’s face, but running away was the best course of action, so that’s what he did.

Extra:

After Wei Ying leaves Nie Huaisang and Lan Zhan at the table:

Lan Zhan: …

Nie Huaisang: …

Lan Zhan: …

Nie Huaisang: …

Lan Zhan: …

Nie Huaisang: I’m going to go now. Bye!

Nie Huaisang exits, as fast as he can without actually running.

Read on AO3

[bucketofchum]

1.5 years after I moved out, I wrote a review

so idk how many of y’all are still around for 1.5 years ago, when I was in a shitty ass housing situation. I had been putting off writing a review bc I was afraid if I ran into the landlady again (since I still live in the same small town), it would lead to.. bad times. But since then, I have met 2 other tenants who have had her and also had a terrible experience. So I felt guilty that I had not written about my experiences which might have been able to warn them. Anyhow, for those who care to read, I put my review under the cut:

While this room might be a good option for someone staying only for a few days, I do not recommend this for anyone staying for 1 month or longer. I came as a foreign student, looking for longterm housing. Ultimate, I stayed there for 2-3 months but honestly even one month was too much. But I had nowhere else to go and because she required a minimum of 2 months’ provisional time before she allowed me to leave as a tenant. If you want to stay as a long term resident, you should be aware of certain things.

First, R has a young daughter. While the daughter is friendly and fun, it was not written anywhere that there would be children in the house. There were some mornings when I woke up to the girl screaming, shrieking, and crying loudly for 30+ minutes because she did not want to shower, brush her teeth, get dressed. The same thing happens at night when she does not want to go to bed or brush teeth. I have recordings of the yelling and crying from the room – it has woken me up or kept me up multiple times. Additionally, there were days when R expected me to babysit her daughter. She asked me to tutor her daughter in schoolwork, making sure she finished all of her schoolwork. I would be fine with this as a request but not as a demand or expectation, especially without pay. I work full time and I did not anticipate spending hours on Sunday tutoring a child.

Second, R has a cat. Fortunately, I like cats, but I am also allergic. This was not mentioned anywhere in the bio, and since leaving, I have been informed by later residents that she now actually has two cats. Again, despite my allergies, I enjoy animals, so this was not the main issue so much as the fact that R has a habit of not being completely forthcoming.

Thirdly, on that topic, R’s personal relationships impacted my stay. Her ex-husband would come to the house every other week or so, and R did not want him to know that she was renting out the room. So she had me clean up the room and put all my things away to make the room seem as though it were empty and she was not renting it out. I hide all of my things in the closet and under the bed. Then, I had to leave the house for some time while her ex-husband was in the house. She would text me when it was okay to come back. This happened several times – as I said, every other weekend or so.

Fourthly, R would occasionally come into the room when I was not in the house. I don’t know if this was an everyday thing or perhaps every few days? At first I noticed that the window would be either opened or closed or the blinds up or down, in a way I did not leave them. I asked her if she came into the room (it was apparent) and she said no. There is no lock for the room, so no way to stop her from entering. I know she is very particular about the way she wants the windows and the blinds, so she will always correct you, regardless of how you put it. One day, I found a comb set neatly on my table. I asked her, again, if she went into the room. She said no. I asked where the comb came from then? She said “Oh, I thought it was yours.” It was not. She never acknowledged to going into the room, only saying she thought the comb was mine. It was neither of ours, so I can only assume it was her daughter’s. Which would suggest that not only does R enter the room when I am not home, so does her daughter.

I will say one thing, though – R likes her house cleaned in a very particular way. She expects you to maintain it this way as well, which is very reasonable. It felt less like I was paying a landlord for a room and more like I was paying to have a mother hover over me and tell me to do my chores. You have access to the kitchen, but she is extremely particular about the way you use it. She’ll hover over your shoulder and remind you to do certain things while you are cooking. Reminding you also how to clean the kitchen counter even while you are in the middle of cooking. The door must be open when you are cooking – to not make the house smell like food. The back wall of the stove area must be cleaned. Certain pots and pans are better than others. In the end, I did not use the kitchen more than 3 times in two months because I couldn’t handle her hovering over my shoulder reminding me every 15 seconds what I should be doing. Sweeping and mopping the floors was another matter entirely.

There are plenty of other matters as well, but essentially, during the first month (May), I felt so uncomfortable in the house that I preferred to just stay outside, from sunrise until sunset. Leaving before they woke up and coming back after they had gone to bed. Fortunately, since it was May, sunset was very late and the weather was pleasant, so I could walk outside in the park until 11pm.

At this point, I was wondering if perhaps I was too sensitive and just reading R incorrectly. After one month, a second tenant came – also a foreigner coming here from Cambodia to work/study. He was very quick to tell me that things were unpleasant with her and he was uncomfortable about a lot of things about her. But he decided to bite his tongue and just survive the month since he had already paid. Several months later, I also met another girl from Vietnam who had just arrived to France. I asked her how it was and she was in tears, saying it was not good at all. She told me that she had this crazy landlady and she was so miserable. As she told me more and more stories, realising she lives in the same town as me, I asked her the name of her landlady because I suspected it was the same as mine. It was indeed R.

When I finally was able to move out (I found a studio apartment, living by myself), R was understandably very upset. She told me I was obligated to pay an additional full month’s rent because I did not give her enough warning time (I gave her a month). We eventually settled it down to half a month, but she wanted me gone immediately after. As it turned out, having an entire apartment rented all for myself cost less than having this room in R’s house.

For me, this was one of the worst “long term” housing situations I have ever had. It was only two months, but those two months seemed like an eternity. I am certain that R is wonderfully hospitable for people with shorter stays. Several days or a week or so is fine, with limited interaction with R. But I do not recommend this room for anyone staying one month or longer, or even perhaps 2-3 weeks.

It took me 1.5 years to come back to write this comment because I did not want to relive the experience and I was afraid of the repercussions of maybe running into her again.

[i-writing-is-hard-i]

Spencer Reid- First Date (PT 2)

First part - 

Spencer Reid Criminal Minds <3

A week had passed, you had heard on the news that the killer in Florida had been caught, so you hoped you would be seeing Spencer again soon, you knew he was back, he was probably resting having been away, so you weren’t really expecting him to show up, so when he did actually walk in, you felt yourself perk up.  Trying to act ‘Cool’ you glanced down to your coffee.   “Good morning” Spencer spoke, taking a seat in front of you. 

“Morning, I didn’t expect to see you this morning, I assumed you would be tired” you smiled back.

“I’ve too much paperwork to do” Spencer noted.  You may not be a profiler like him, but you could tell something was wrong. 

“Everything okay?” you decided to ask.  Not that you expected him to confide in you, but you thought you should ask anyway.  Spencer didn’t say anything, he took a sip of his coffee, as he put it back down, it made a loud clanking noise.  He was nervous.  

“Spence?” you asked again, you were smiling at him though, whatever it was that was wrong with him, you were confident that it wasn’t bad.  When Spencer heard his shortened name leave your lips his potion shifted in his chair.  

“Are you free this weekend?” he asked, he was clearly anxious, but you were delighted, at least you assumed he was asking you out, whether it was a date or not, you were interested in spending some proper time with him. 

“Nope, completely free why do you ask?” you didn’t even have to think about it, because even if you weren’t free you were going to be now.  

“Well, there is a showing in the movies, uh, Doctor Who special, I was wondering if you would like to go?” Spencer asked he seemed to have become more confident in his questioning.  You weren’t that interested in Doctor Who, but you knew Spencer liked it and you weren’t going to pass up the chance to go out with him.

“I would love to” you agreed.  You wondered if this was a date, after all, you talked about it when he was away.

Spencer explained he would get the tickets and let you know about times, as there were a few showings, and since you were free all day, he was free to pick any time he wanted.

You worked away, checking your phone regularly, just to make sure you didn’t miss his text.  Once again, you were acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, but it had been so long since you had met a guy that you were interested in, and even longer since someone was interested in you.  At least, he seemed to be, after all the two of you were going on a date, ‘Right?’

After Lunch, you returned to your station, you still haven't received a text from Spencer, but you suspected that he was busy so you weren’t too impatient.  After another hour, your phone finally pinged, it was Spencer, with a time, date and location.  It was really happening.  Lucky for you the location was conveniently near the Cafe you both frequented. You replied quickly agreeing, adding that you were looking forward to it and as the rest of the day went by you spent your time thinking about outfits, you wanted to obviously look ‘Good’ but you also didn’t want to dress up too much considering you would be sitting in a movie theatre.  You considered wearing something Doctor Who related but couldn’t figure out what.  

The week seemed to drag in, you were so excited, right up until the day before. When the nerves kicked in.  it had been so long since you had been on a date, and now you were going on a date with a profiler, so whatever you were feeling he would know.  That night you showered, laid out your clothes and knocked back a glass of wine.  When you spoke to him this morning, Spencer seemed excited, but then was he excited because he was going to see Doctor Who?, or was he excited because he was going out with you?,  was this even a date, or just two friends spending time together.  So many things flipped around in your head.  

“Wise up girl, Spence wouldn’t have invited you out if he didn’t want to spend time with you,” you told yourself loudly.  You decided to go to bed early, well, earlier than normal.  

The next morning, you went about your business, dealing with house chores that you couldn’t get done during your working week.  You enjoyed a spot of lunch, watching daytime TV and with some time left, you decided to short out something for work.  Once it was time to get ready, your nervous kicked in again.  

You stared at the outfit you had planned the previous night, but now you were doubting your choices.  Would this impress Spencer? would it be suitable for this ‘outing’ 

“No, no, no, stick it on” you ordered yourself.  You slipped the casual dress on, buckle your shoes then moved on to your face.  You had already decided to wear natural make-up and a simple hairstyle. One last touch, a pair of earrings in the shape of Doctor Who’s screwdriver, your coworker helped you out.  Thanks to your debate with yourself about your outfit, you were forced to rush of to the cafe when you were meeting Spencer.   As you rounded the corner, you spotted him standing outside.  He was fiddling with his sleeves.  You stopped long enough to straighten your clothes and catch your breath, before walking up to him.  When you stopped in front of Spencer, you definitely noticed his eyes look you up and down.  He enjoyed your outfit.  

“You are looking awfully dapper” you smirked, deciding to tease him a little.   Spencer looked so flustered, it made you want to continue, but when his eyes darted up to your face, and he noticed your earrings, happiness filled him, you could physically see it as it was happening.

As if it were a nervous twitch, Spencer began rambling about facts relevant to your destination, and the benefits of watching movies, while you both headed to the movie theatre.  

There was a bit of a crowd, some were very dressed up, others looked like they weren’t keen on being there at all.  Spencer thankfully had already purchased the tickets, so you were pretty much straight in, finding suitable seats, beside each other.  As the advertisements rolled on, Spencer had changed the subject to you, he asked questions about books, movies, music, everything that would be considered normal for a first date.  You replied happily learning more about him too.

When the movie started, the both of you fell silent.  You had seen one of two episodes of Doctor Who, but it had never captured you, but you were determined to pay attention here, so you had something to talk about afterwards.  When the credits began to roll, the two of you stayed seated, while others stood up, the room buzzed with excited people talking happily about what they had watched.  

“So what did you think?” you asked Spencer, he went off on a happily rant about it, pointing out a few things that he liked and didn’t like, you were able to keep up, adding your own input on the events too.  

As the two of you walked back to the cafe, you took over the conversation, rambling yourself, you did have the tendency to ramble about your passions, but Spencer didn’t mind, he was learning something new.  At the cafe, Spencer offered to escort you home.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, it’s still light and pretty busy, I’m sure I'll be okay” you assured.  When he asked again, you agreed, it would be nice to continue the conversation.  You invited Spencer in for some coffee to which he agreed.  As you faffed around the kitchen, Spencer had a look around your home, you had your suspicions that he was analyzing your things and you, but you didn’t really mind.  It was late in the evening when Spencer left.  You had promised to text your best friend about the details, but you wanted to keep that to yourself, so you simply told them that it was well before ignoring your phone, as they bombarded you with messages.  

The next day you decided to text Spencer.  

‘Thanks for yesterday, I really had a great time, we should do it again x’  and send.  

It hadn’t occurred to you that you had sent a kiss with it.

‘Hi Y/N, I enjoyed it too, maybe we could have dinner sometime?’ Spencer had replied so quickly, it was kind of unexpected.

‘That sounds like a plan’ 

‘Great there is a new Indian opened up in town, we could go next week?’

‘I love Indian, and yes I am free’ 

With a second date arranged, you go to work, looking forward to the following week.

[fallforcs]

Cinnamon

Art by: @jell-obeans

Author: @theonceoverthinker

Summary: What starts out as a simple apple picking trip for Emma Swan takes an unexpected twist when she discovers that the nice connection she’s finding between herself and the farm’s owner Killian Jones might be something more profound and, for Emma, terrifying than she bargained for. Emma then finds herself on a journey that pulls her between her own insecurities, her growing feelings for Killian, and the very will of Mother Nature itself. Can Killian truly be the apple of her eye or will the worms of Emma’s past keep her from taking that first bite?

Rating: G (Nothing of an equivalence to a trigger)

A/N: I want to give a couple of shoutouts.

First, to my beta, @lassluna. I can’t even begin to tell you what your tireless work on this story meant to me. Whenever I needed you, you were on our Google Doc ready to work. You’re an amazing beta – catching things before I could all the time. You were incredibly supportive and I felt that you were always working with me because you believed in my story and my writing. And your help with the story itself can’t be overstated. Honestly, there were times where I didn’t think I could finish this story, but knowing that I was doing it for you kept me going. Working with you was a privilege and I hope it was even a tenth of that for you.

Second, to my artist, @jell-obeans. Not only did you take on making me a piece at the last second, but you completely captured the tone I was going for. Your artwork presents a relaxed and casual sense of intimacy between Emma and Killian, and that’s exactly what I wanted my piece to offer for my readers. There’s a nice use of earthy autumn colors and the setting of the artwork gives off a nice sense of closeness. Finally, that Monopoly board and the tea box give a great sense of detail that I just love. It’s freakin’ gorgeous and I can’t thank you enough for all of your hard work.

Finally, a note to my readers. Thank you for taking the time to read this piece. When someone puts together a work and takes the time to painstakingly make sure that it delivers an experience that’s in its own way original, entertaining, and personal, it’s such a cool thing when that work is actually seen. So trust when I express my appreciation to you for giving me that, and I hope that “Cinnamon” can delight and warm your soul in return.

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Upstate New York was truly something to see.

Around every corner Emma turned, she saw acres and acres of trees that cascaded along the landscape like snow piled onto a mountain. Every single one of those trees had the warm colors of autumn, and on their own, they’d be beautiful enough – Emma had certainly seen plenty of them on their own – but together, they melded and practically terraformed the steep inclines they rested on into a place she wouldn’t have minded getting lost in one day.

It was her first time to this part of the country. She’d been to New York, but it was always to the city on a job. This may has well have been a different state. Whereas New York City was an urban jungle – not without its greenery, but mostly sectioned-off greenery – Hudson was a dense forest with towns and road in the spaces between it. It moved alongside the land, and that made for a more difficult, but also more beautiful drive.

But among all the beautiful aspects of the countryside, again, none stood out more that those trees.

That’s actually what had brought her up here today.

Her friend Regina had bought the apples that contained the seeds of what would become a magnificent tree that was so very similar to those now on the other side of Emma’s window many years ago. Regina had always wanted a big apple tree in her yard, and she told Emma that when she first tasted the fruit of this one particular apple only available at this one particular farm, she knew it had to be that one. After trying one of the apples from the bags Regina had brought home, Emma had to agree.

Regina spent months trying to plant it before finally consulting a gardener – one Robin Locksley. Together – by Regina’s insistence together – they worked the land. As they worked, Regina began to swear to Emma that she was smelling marigolds all day long. She’d joke about him probably keeping seeds in his pockets.

It didn’t take long afterwards to realize what had happened. Regina had to ask Robin to be sure, but indeed, Robin’s favorite scent was those of marigolds.

When it came to the matter of the heart, everyone knew what it meant when you smelled someone’s favorite scent whenever you were in their presence. The world they lived in was by no means magical, but this was one truth that persisted throughout time that science could grant no other explanation. At the dawn of this realization, first recorded in journals from the Renaissance, the concept was thought to be a myth, but it was granted solidification as a fact through time and repetition.

Regina had found her soulmate.

Emma recalled Regina telling the story perfectly. Robin had laughed when she told him, but only at the fact that the pervasive smell of apples wasn’t just because of their efforts to grow the tree. The rest took care of itself. With their love secured, finally, not one, but two things grew. The first was Regina’s tree and the second was a love that was just as strong as the bark below the sunrise-colored leaves.

After a few years, the tree began to falter in its fruits. The apples lost their firmness and batch after batch became more inedible than the last. Regina and Robin had meant to go back to the same farm where Regina first got those apples. That was the plan.

But then life happened.

Time slipped away from them. Regina became mayor and their free weekends became fluxes of going to her stepson Roland’s baseball games and taking him to wilderness survival club meeting in between town meetings, tending to their neighbor’s trees and flowers, and general chores.

And then Robin became sick.

That’s where their story had left off, but it wouldn’t be the end if Emma had anything to say about it.

Emma wasn’t a doctor and there was little a bail bondsperson could do to take the occasional load off Regina’s back, not that it would probably be accepted, knowing Regina.

What she did have though was a currently empty schedule and the perfect idea for a gift that would lift the family’s spirits.

It was going to be a simple trip. Emma had made sure of it, and if everything went according to plan, she’d be home by midnight.

Can’t wait to spend another six hours on the road, as if the last six weren’t fun enough.

It would be a long day trip to be sure, but the shitty thing about her type of business was that one never knew when their next client would call asking for her immediate services, and the fact was that an apartment wedged in the corner of Maine didn’t pay for itself.

Google Maps had told her that she’d be approaching Jones Farms in just a few minutes, three to be precise.

Finally, after hours of passing through them, the forests came to an end and a subsequent clearing revealed a series of farms over the next few miles. Jones Farms was the fifth that Emma saw. She found the spot where she could park and her yellow bug – her sole companion on this elongated trip – at last got a well-deserved rest.

Emma got out of her car and as she stretched – a relief she couldn’t understate if she tried after such a long trip – she took in her surroundings. Right in front of her stood a wooden farm with a storefront alongside it and a wide stretch of trees behind it. Emma could just make out the sight of an apple or two across the distance. Just then, the door to the storefront opened, and Emma turned her attention that way. She noticed a man exit and come into her line of view, though somewhat masked by the shadow from underneath the roof of the patio. Upon taking notice of her, the man waved Emma over.

Emma was about to head to the storefront and get started on business. Then, as she took a deep breath of the crisp air, she smelled something she hadn’t expected alongside it.

Cinnamon?

The aroma didn’t as much dance up her nose as opposed to hit her nostrils like a brick to the face. And it wasn’t like Emma disliked it. It was actually the opposite, really. But it did leave a lingering question, one Emma couldn’t answer so easily:

Why did The Great Outdoors smell like a snickerdoodle?

Her curiosity as well as her mission compelled her to go forward towards the shop.

“Hello,” the man said. “Welcome to Jones Farms.” When Emma finally got close enough to make out the man’s features, she blinked.

To be fair, Emma didn’t know what to expect from the farm hands when she came here, but what she didn’t expect was him.

The man before Emma was roughly half a head taller than her. He had piercing blue eyes, dark brown hair with a set of bangs that were swept back, and a tasteful bit of scruff that peaked at the space between his nose and mouth and otherwise ran across his chin. A black jacket covered his upper torso and arms and below was a pair of dark jeans, but neither entirely masked the subtle hints of muscle.

All this to say, he was quite handsome.

Not a bad person to spend an hour or two with.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before, but it’s nice to meet you all the same. Killian’s the name,” he went on to say, extending a hand. “Killian Jones.”

“Emma,” she responded meeting his hand with her own. “Emma Swan.” They shook, and Emma couldn’t describe it, but just the feeling of touching him was…nice.

His whole demeanor was nice, in fact.

No, not nice. Kind.

People were a generally easy read for Emma. One didn’t survive long as a bail bondsperson without such an ability. She’d always had an affinity for spotting lies for as long as she could remember, and the rest had developed with age. These days, Emma could easily tell someone’s intentions on sight, as if a map of their person was drawing itself right in front of her.

And right now, Killian’s map pointed to the big heart on his sleeves. It wasn’t a bad way to be. He was certainly more comfortable around new people than Emma tended to be, but Emma supposed that came with the job, customer service and all that. In any event, he had an air about him and Emma couldn’t help but find it infectious.

“It’s a pleasure. Now, how may I assist you today?”

“I’m looking for some Bloody Ploughmans.”

Killian raised both of his brows and bulged his eyes. “Such language,” he said, the mock offense in his voice as clear as glass, and a gloved hand clutching at his lapel as if to milk the reaction for even more. Emma gave a gentle roll of the eyes with a smirk that was quickly returned with a charming smile. “Sorry, can’t help but use that joke on the customers. To be fair, you would too if you had something with that name.” He released a small chuckle and Emma allowed her smirk to soften into a more genuine smile. Noticeably grateful, Killian gave a thankful nod. “In any event, a fine apple.”

“And you’re the only place that has them.”

“That’s because there’s few apple farmers who come from across the sea where they’re found.”

Emma nodded. The accent in his voice made it obvious that he was British.

“You’ve good taste,” Killian continued.

“Not me, actually,” Emma pointed out. “My friend. You may remember – she came here a few years ago – Regina Mills?”

Killian’s eyes brightened with what Emma could assume was recognition.

“Yes,” Killian confirmed. “I think a decade has past since then. I remember her because she insisted on trying every apple at the farm while she was here. People often make that promise – mostly kids – but she was the first to actually do it, and the only!” He started to laugh, and Emma found herself unexpectedly compelled to join in.

That’s Regina for you.

“She told me about that,” Emma said jovially. “And if you think that’s crazy, you should’ve seen her when her favorite cereal got discontinued! She broke open her piggy bank and dragged me all over town. We went to every supermarket and bought as many boxes as we could carry!”

“Did you two grow up together?” Killian was smiling at her.

“Yeah.”

“Relatives or friends?”

“Kind of both.”

Killian quirked his brow, looking as confused as a penguin in a desert. “I don’t follow.”

“Foster siblings,” Emma said, following a moment’s hesitation.

“Ah. Gotcha,” Killian said with a soft grin. His appreciation may have been unspoken, but the gentle sprouts of his dimples told Emma quite a bit of his gratefulness for sharing something like that to someone who was little more than a stranger.

It definitely made Emma feel better. She was always tremulous when it came to bringing up something like that, but though Killian had asked for specifics until it became unavoidable, it was clearly not his intention for her to reveal that and he’d given just the right reaction to it, leaving the ball in her court for more information without a bit of pressure.

“So anyway,” Emma resumed, getting back on topic, “Regina planted an apple tree with some seeds from that apple, but the fruit these days has got all these bumps on them  – Regina said it’s something called brown rot – and she wanted to grow another. She had a hard time getting back down here, so I came here to get them for her.”

“Quite a generous offer,” Kilian said. “Regina’s taste seemed to have remained the same, both in apples and in company.”

Emma smirked. “You use that line on all your customers?”

Killian returned the expression without missing a beat. “Only for the best.” Emma felt a compulsion to blush.

This guy’s either the best salesman in the world or he’s Superman.

Well, whatever he is, I’ve got to get moving. Besides, it’s starting to look cloudy.

“So, how about we get started?” Emma suggested. “Bloody Ploughmans are great and all – my favorites – but I really want to make this just a one day trip and traffic is probably going to be a bitch getting back to Maine as it is.” At the location of Emma’s hometown, Killian’s brow raised.

“Maine? Well, that’s one hell of a day trip, but I can surely understand, so, as the lady insists.”

Emma nodded gratefully, and as she did, she noticed the smell of cinnamon and how it was still so strong in the air.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask: What’s that smell? I feel like I’m in a bakery.”

Much to Emma’s confusion, Killian gaped and the brow that was already raised as well as its brother practically flew out of his head. “Is this really your first time visiting an apple farm?”

“Yeah,” Emma answered, stuck between feeling guilty and laughing at the expression on Killian’s face through her befuddlement at the question.

With a click of his tongue, Killian smirked. “No wonder. You’ve never had an apple cider donut?”

Apple cider donut?

The words flowed off Killian’s tongue, and mental images of the idea of the snack started floating through Emma’s head. To add to that, the traces of cinnamon in the air made it all the more enticing. “Can’t say I have. They sound pretty good.”

“They’re better than good, Emma.” Killian pressed his lips together and looked at his store thoughtfully for a brief moment before turning back to Emma. “You know what, Emma? Come on in. I’ll give you a freshly made one, on the house.”

Emma was about to decline at the behest of her inner-chiding about her already expected-to-be long ride home, but her gurgling stomach betrayed her. Another smirk crossed Killian’s face, and if it didn’t look so good on his face, Emma might just be annoyed by it. Regardless, she was hungry and the donuts sounded delicious. “Lead the way,” she said as she signaled for him to do just that with a finger pointed towards the door.

“It’s weird though,” Killian commented as they enclosed on the shop’s entrance.

“What?”

“I smell the donuts too, but I haven’t made any today.” Killian then shrugged. “But then again, that machine is powerful and it’s old, too. Perhaps it’s just gotten a bit of a residual smell with age.”

Emma shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

“But trust me when I say this, Emma: If you think the cinnamon is powerful now, when this thing gets kicking, your nose will be straight-up filled with the stuff.”

And whether it was the hunger softly making itself known through the pangs in her stomach or the aroma that she started to feel acting as a premonition for the success for the rest of the day going forward, but Emma found the idea of a cinnamon-filled shop to be not only delightful, but also worthy of a show of delight and one final disclosement about herself.

“Well,” Emma said, smiling. “Cinnamon just happens to be my favorite smell, so get cooking.” Killian grinned and with that, he opened the door to the store and the two of them walked in.

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True enough to Emma’s expectations and Killian’s word, as soon as Killian put the apple cider donut machine to work, the smell of cinnamon grew ten times stronger.

The batter, Killian told Emma, had already been prepared and refrigerated the night before, so all he had to do was place some in the machine, and it would do the rest. Watching it go was quite the spectacle. The machine molded the batter into the correct shape for the donuts and plopped them onto a conveyor belt that would from there take them to be fried and adorned with their cinnamon sugar coating. It was a cool process to watch and Emma would’ve been lying if she said otherwise.

The two of them filled the time waiting for the donuts to finish with light conversation, first with a cursory tour around the store, and afterwards with Killian showing Emma how his apple cider machine worked.

When the donuts were at last done, Killian stood at the end of the donut-making machine, grinning like a mad scientist as the coating was sprinkled on the freshly fried pastries. “Gotta love that smell – the cinnamon and sugar coming together. Best in the world if you ask me!”

“It does smell good.” Emma took another whiff and felt goosebumps as she took it is. “I love my cinnamon candle at home, but it has nothing on this.”

“And it gets even better! Just wait until you taste one!” A moment later, an apple cider donut was in her hand and another in Killian’s. He clinked their donuts together and took a bite, with Emma immediately following suit.

What next hit Emma’s lips she could most closely describe as a lightning bolt of sweetness. Sugar and cinnamon so fresh that Emma swore they came off their original plants spread across her tongue like fireworks. The pastry itself hit her teeth like a goose down pillow and when it opened, the texture of warm cake spread through her mouth. Emma closed her eyes as she absorbed the taste while the rest of her donut radiated warmth between her fingers.

Ooh. Is that–?

“Cinnamon? Yup, it’s in the donut batter too,” Killian said. Emma nearly choked on her donut, releasing a cough so that she wouldn’t spit out her food. Her eyes bulged open.

Is he psychic?

Killian seemed to think so. At Emma’s reaction, he gave her a shit-eating grin. “You’re a surprisingly easy read, Emma, and even for me.”

“You read everyone so well?”

“All part of the job, love. I’m quite an old hat at it.”

No, not psychic. Just cocky.

Though I’ll admit: cocky looks good on him.

Emma returned the smirk, not ready to be defeated at the game she excelled so well at. “Well, I’m pretty good at reading people too, and you’re not exactly War and Peace yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” Killian asked, his smirk having grown somehow even wider than before. “Then what am I thinking?”

This is too easy.

“You’re itching for me stroke your ego and compliment your donuts,” Emma answered, with not a single beat missed in the process. Killian looked impressed, his cocky smirk still present, but his eyes forfeiting his amazement.

“Very good. Now will you?”

She took a deep breath, revelling as cinnamon danced around her nose once more. “Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

The smirk on Killian’s face dissolved into a smile. “Always nice to hear.”

Emma was about to say something – granted, jokingly – about not letting the compliment go to his head when suddenly, a loud noise beat her to the punch.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

As the noise sounded off, Emma turned her head. Atop the cashier’s counter was a loud and colorful birdhouse with a clock in the top center of it. At the moment, a blue and yellow bird were rolling around a semicircle stretched out in front of the display of the time.

“The kids love it,” Killian commented, “and it’s a great reminder to check on our inventory regularly, especially in our peak season.” Nodding, Emma looked at the time, but before another second passed, her curious expression turned violently into a gawk.

Shit! It’s already one!

Killian had clearly noticed the change of face. “Are you okay, Emma?”

Emma sighed, remembering herself.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” she said. “It’s just that I didn’t think I’d be here this long. I’ve gotta get moving. Look, thanks for the donut. It was really good. Tell you what: I’ll grab a half a dozen of those for the road and take two bags of the Bloody Ploughmans.” Emma dug her hand into the pocket of her jeans, the leather of her wallet brushing against her fingers, but she soon stopped at the sight in front of her: Killian frowning. “What?”

“Come on, Emma,” he whined. “It’s your first time at an apple farm, and I’m not about to let you just buy the apples without picking them first.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Killian, but I can’t.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Killian chided, waving a finger. “There’s nothing like the feeling of pulling an apple right off a tree and taking a bite out of it. It forms an intimate bond between yourself and nature.” Emma raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Besides,” he continued, “I sold out of my pre-picked bags of them yesterday. Unless you can come back another day, you haven’t a choice.”

Emma pouted to herself. “No, I can’t. It took me hours to get up here and this is the only day I’ll be able to do it for like a month.”

“Look, Emma. If you want, I could go and pick the apples for you if you really don’t want to. I know the situation’s hardly ideal what with the weather so perhaps I can assist.”

Still pouting, Emma resigned herself to the idea. “It’s okay. There’s nothing else to do here. I may as well help you.”

So much for my quick trip.

Also, I should grab some gloves from my car. From the way Killian’s talking, it might get cold soon.

Killian smiled, practically stubbornly in the face of Emma’s pout. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fun,” he encouraged. “And I’ll come with you, take some pictures on your phone, and you can show Regina what a good time you had!” When faced with Killian’s grin, Emma felt her pout give out right before she grinned too. Killian seemed to be able to tell that he’d won the battle, his teeth flashing. “Will,” he called to a man sitting by the cash register in front of the store. “I’m going to accompany our lovely patron to the orchard for her first proper picking. You’re in charge until I get back.”

“Aye, aye!” the cashier said cheerfully. Content enough with the circumstances, Emma and Killian started for the exit out of the store. “Uh, before you go, Killian,” the man continued just before Killian could touch the doorknob, his tone now smaller. “Just reminding you that you said I could leave in two hours. I really need to get home soon.” Despite the meekness of Will’s words, Emma noticed that there was an underlying urgency to them too.

What’s beating him?

“Of course, Mr. Smee. We should be back with time to spare. Now come, Emma! The orchards await!”

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Jones Farms ended up being far more extensive than Emma thought. While the trees looked to be close to the house and storefront, the walk to the orchards had taken about five minutes, and Killian told Emma as they strolled through the trees that the Bloody Ploughmans were in the back of the fields, past the dozens of Macintoshes, Galas, and Granny Smiths alongside their path. The trek made Emma feel like the layers of trees were practically swallowing her whole. She looked to Killian who contrarily seemed so at home as he navigated through the dense forest. His eyes were shifting from branch to branch, muttering to himself about the state of the fruits on the trees and the fences on the border of the orchard that were just visible from the path. From what she could make out from his mutters and expressions, it all looked good.

Just before Emma was about to turn her head back to focus on the way ahead, Killian met her eye. Instantaneously, his expression popped from one of intense focus to one of an equally intense embarrassment.

“So sorry for the quiet, Emma!” Killian said. “Just wanted to check on everything. You can never be too careful with one’s livelihood when it’s forced to lay bare against mankind and the elements, and since I’m here and all, may as well look now.”

“I get it,” Emma replied, assuaging Killian of his clear guilt. “It’s your business, and work always means more when you’re your own boss.”

Killian quirked a brow. “You know from experience?”

“I’m a freelance bail bondsperson.”

“That’s pretty cool! What’s the work like? Is it like all the TV shows?” Emma almost wanted to laugh at the childlike enthusiasm on Killian’s face. It was wide-eyed, curious, and honestly just cute.

All of that made it hard for her to do what she needed to next.

Emma scrunched her face and shook her head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but not really. I mean, sometimes, you’ll get a runner, and then you’ll have to play detective to find them, but it doesn’t happen often. Usually, I’m just filing paperwork, checking with the courthouses, and driving to defendant’s houses to check on them and make sure they haven’t skipped town. Thankfully, for most of the people I’ve worked with, they haven’t. It’s not the easiest lesson to learn when you’re a foster kid, but in my field of work, you realize that more people are good than not.”

Killian’s face fell, but only slightly. “Well, it’s at least an optimistic aspect of society nowadays, that those who you help are also working to help themselves.”

“Exactly,” Emma said, a feeling of profound satisfaction in her gut and a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. She hardly ever talked about work – mostly because it was as mundane as she described most of the time – but Killian just got what that mundanity meant.

I wonder what his story is…

…Couldn’t hurt to ask.

“By the way,” she continued, “how’d you get all the way from England to have an apple farm here in the states? They don’t have apple farms across the Atlantic?”

“They do, but –”

Wait, don’t tell me.

“Trying to avoid someone?”

Despite the interruptance, Killian seemed to take the question well, a brief low chuckle coming through his throat.

“That depends: Does an entire country count as someone?” Emma’s eyes bulged. Killian seemed to understand immediately where Emma’s mind had gone. “No, trust me. I’m not a criminal,” he explained. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“Oh?”

Killian pursed his lips. Though Emma could tell from there that the subject made Killian uncomfortable, right before she could stop him, Killian started speaking. “My brother and I were in the navy back home. He was killed in the line of duty and I lost my hand.”

Shit.

Emma grimaced, feeling guilty for ever bringing up the topic. She couldn’t imagine losing a limb, much less someone so close to her in a war. “I’m so sorry, Killian.”

“It is what it is.” Killian took a deep breath. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to spare Killian any further pain, Emma spoke again.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you want.”

“It’s alright,” Killian dismissed. “You told me a bit of your story. The least I can do is give you a glimmer of mine.”

Emma – touched – felt her hand drift to her chest.

“After being honorably discharged, I left the country,” Killian continued. “Life in England had never been easy for me, so I decided to make a new start in a new country.”

“All by yourself?”

“Yes. Our parents are long gone, one more loosely fitting that definition than the other, but gone all the same. I’ve Mr. Smee as an employee and a few townspeople as friends, but otherwise, no one really.”

Now that was a weird sensation. While it wasn’t something she was used to growing up, Emma’s small town these days carried with it a sense of intimacy. She had Regina who she was close to, but there were others as well and given the nature of small towns, she had at least some idea of everyone’s business. Sometimes, it was too much for her, especially due to her upbringing, but to be by yourself with all this land, Emma couldn’t imagine it.

“It doesn’t get lonely?”

“Oh, it does. To tell you the truth, I’ve hoped that one day, perhaps my soulmate will drop by the farm and from there, we’d settle down here together.”

Emma snorted, perhaps a tad more condescendingly than intended, but not enough that it looked like she hurt Killian in the process.

“You’re into that stuff?”

Killian raised a brow. “Who wouldn’t be?” She met his eye, and once more, he seemed able to read her thoughts. “You?” he asked, his surprise evident.

“Eh,” Emma shrugged.

“Hmm. I’ve always loved the idea,” he responded with a shrug of his own. “Being around someone and everything just feeling…right. Kind of like a safety net. The rest of the world gives us so much pain. It’d be nice to have one person who was always on your side, who you could always rely on, and could always rely on you.”

Boy, is that naive.

But Emma didn’t give voice to the thought. After all, when Killian finally found his soulmate, odds are that they’d have the same idea of what a soulmate is. And maybe it really would be as easy as that for them. For his sake, she hoped that was true.

As for her…

“I don’t know. I guess it just feels weird, like being in an arranged marriage by the universe.”

It was an understatement of her true thoughts, to be sure, but it was serviceable for their conversation.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Killian said, musing. “I’d say it’s closer to…an apple farmer showing you where to find the trees you want are.”

Jeez, he’s a total romantic.

But hey, if anyone can make the whole soulmates thing work, it’s probably him.

I can’t imagine anyone would turn him down with a face like that, and that’s before they’d spend a minute with him.

“Speaking of,” Emma redirected, “so what about the apple farming?”

“My brother Liam and I used to work odd jobs as teenagers to make money. We found being farmhands for this one couple’s orchard to be the best of them. Besides, even though I wanted to leave my old life behind, it didn’t mean I wanted to leave my brother. You know what’s funny?” Emma hummed inquisitively. “You said earlier that Bloody Ploughmans were your favorite apple. Well, they were Liam’s favorite too. And speaking of,” Killian said, pointing ahead. “Look, we’ve arrived!”

Indeed they had. Emma’s gaze followed Killian’s finger. Beyond a small clearing was a messily labeled was a sign for Bloody Ploughmans and three rows of trees that extended back until a fence roughly three hundred feet away.

“Emma,” Killian said, walking past Emma until he could face her from the front. “I’m going to check on the fence at the back of this section.” He then produced a folded bag out of his coat pocket. “Why don’t you get a head start, and I’ll be right back?” She nodded and took the bag, and with a final toothy smile, Killian took off, leaving Emma alone.

For a moment, all Emma could do was take in the trees. There was such a beautiful familiarity in seeing the Bloody Ploughmans. After the tree in Regina’s yard had proved itself to be ill beyond repair, Regina had chopped it down, leaving only a small stump where the strong bark once stood. Emma had forgotten how they stood, shorter to the ground than she remembered, but  also fuller in its fruits and still as commanding in their presence as ever.

With the crunching leaves below her boots as her only companion, Emma stepped towards the closest apple tree.

Suspended in the air, just a half a foot above Emma’s head was a gorgeous looking apple. It was perfectly plump in its shape and was a shade of red that she recognized all-too-well.

Now that’s what I’m talking about!

Raising a hand up to the apple’s base, Emma pulled it towards her, twisting it slightly when she felt weakness in the top of the stem. When the apple was finally released, the branch that held it flung backwards – and as Emma found out before she could even hope to move to stop it – right into Killian’s unprepared face.

Oh crap.

Killian released a grunt that was deprived of any and all grace at the impact.

“Sorry,” Emma said meekly, an apologetic smile on her face. Killian enclosed his hand around the branch and steadied it. He didn’t look mad, but simply startled. As he sputtered, a leaf revealed itself to be in KIllian’s mouth, much to his clear disgust.

For the record, Emma did feel guilty. Truly, she did.

But she couldn’t help herself when she felt a bout of giggles in her chest as Killian coughed and pushed the leaf away.

So, after losing a battle of wills she never had a shot in hell of winning, Emma released a small chuckle, and much to her relief, Killian joined in.

“Might I suggest a less violent approach to picking apples?” he asked, chuckling not only from the absurdity of his previous situation, but also from the triumph that came with ridding himself of the stray leaf once and for all. “Not that your approach isn’t effective, but I’m quite fond of my face the way it is.”

So am I.

“Lead the way.”

“You got it, love,” Killian replied, a flirtatious wink at the word.

Emma felt her cheeks get pleasantly warm, making the cold air around her face feel all but nonexistent.

Killian took an apple less than a foot above him into his hand and with the other, took the branch.

“What you want to do is hold the apple - and you were right to give it a little twist at the stem - but what you want to do is keep the branch steady too. It’s not good for the tree for it to flail like that.” Emma watched closely, and as Killian spoke, she noticed his left hand - unlike the right - was gloved.

That’s probably the prosthetic.

Emma found herself impressed. The prosthetic moved almost as well as his hand did, perhaps a touch more rigidly, but it would be nothing anyone would be able to notice of they didn’t have the hawk-like eyesight of a bailbondswoman.

“So watch what I do.” Gently, Killian removed the apple while still keeping everything else relatively the same. Once the branch was safely put back in place, Killian showed Emma the apple. It didn’t gleam like an apple on a teacher’s desk, but it had this distinct and natural beauty to it within the thin layer of dirt at its surface. “And there you have it.” Killian gestured downward with his eyes and it took Emma a moment to realize that he was pointing at her bag. Immediately, Emma opened it, and both Killian as well as her own apple from earlier fell into it.

“Thanks.”

Killian gestured towards the very apple tree he had just picked from. “Now you try, if you think you can handle grabbing an apple without causing an earthquake, that is,” he challenged. The good-natured smirk on his face made it clear that he knew she’d be one to hardly pass up a challenge.

Good guess.

“Either way, I’m about to rock your world.” After taking a second to choose the perfect apple, Emma grabbed it, and was careful to use the strategy Killian taught her. When she was done, she hovered the fruit in front of Killian’s face, just as he had done with the one he picked.

“Indeed you have,” Killian remarked. “And a very nice choice on top of that, love! See? Told you it was a good idea to come pick the apples fresh.”

“Not like I had a choice,” she said, putting the apple into her bag.

“But admit it: it was still fun.”

“Fine,” Emma relented, an amiable eye roll trailing beside her words like a trusted friend. “It was fun.” As if to solidify the point, Emma grabbed another apple in much the same way as she did the last.

She hadn’t planned for today to go how it had. She never imagined that she’d actually had to go out into the fields and get her own fruits, but being around someone like Killian, someone so open and easy to talk to made her wonder why she’d have ever wanted to do this differently.

“Not to mention, Killian said, “you were also exposed to this beautifully crisp mountain air. Bet they don’t have this back in Storybrooke! Trust me, Swan, nothing makes you feel alive quite like when your lungs are full of it.” Dramatically with his arms open like he was performing the opening of The Sound of Music , Killian took a loud and deep breath. “Go on!” he encouraged.

And Emma did, albeit without the Julie Andrews pose. She took a sharp inhale and immediately, the fresh breeze began pouring throughout her entire being.

…Alongside something else.

Cinnamon?

Emma furrowed her brow. That didn’t make sense. They must’ve been a quarter of a mile away from the storefront of Jones Farms. And there’s no way with all the wind blowing that the smell from the donuts she ate over an hour ago was still strong enough.

So why was she still smelling cinnamon as if she was right in front of the machine itself?

Wait…Didn’t Killian say something earlier?

She remembered it so clearly.

“Gotta love that smell – the cinnamon and sugar coming together. Best in the world if you ask me!”

That’s what Killian said exactly. Word for word.

No…

But if Emma was right – and she got a good feeling she was – then so much now made sense: why she felt so comfortable telling him she was a foster kid, how he was able to convince her so easily to come up here and apple pick, and why Kilian couldn’t seem to take two steps without making her smile.

We’re soulmates.

Emma’s stomach clenched. She took another breath, this time more staggard.

This really wasn’t what she expected to happen today.

Soulmate.

Killian was her soulmate.

Killian, the kind farmer.

Killian, one of the most handsome men she had ever met.

Killian, someone she had already felt okay telling bits about herself to.

…

Killian, the hopeless romantic who was just ten minutes ago waxing about how great soulmates were.

Killian, the guy who thought that he’d find his soulmate and they’d be together forever like the ending of a storybook.

Killian, the guy who was now looking at her, seemingly able to tell that something was amiss.

And of course he could.

After all, they were soulmates.

“Everything okay, Emma?”

No. Things weren’t okay by a long shot. Killian was her soulmate and she was not ready to deal with that yet. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, and a million ways that things could go wrong if it wasn’t handled carefully. Killian’s hopes were so high, too high, and telling him right now in the middle of a picturesque apple orchard, for as photogenic as she’s sure it would be, didn’t seem the best way to ease him out of that mindset.

At the same time though, that very mindset had begged the question: Had Killian figured it out, too?

Definitely not. If he had found out, he wouldn’t hide it. He’d say something. I can read him.

But if she could read him, it stood to reason that he could probably read her too, no matter whether or not he knew.

To be blunt, Emma didn’t want him to know, or at least, not yet. To tell him now, before she could figure out what to say would open a can of worms that she knew could hurt them both.

And currently, Killian’s question over her well being hung in the air, waiting to be answered.

Emma searched for a way out, knowing that a straight up dismissal of his concerns would only arouse Killian’s suspicion. Attempts at fake concerns fizzed in and out of her mind, killed by the consequences that could ensue in their wake.  

Thankfully, Emma looked at her apple bag and found her solution.

Perfect.

“I’m just hungry.” Immediately, she grabbed one of the apples she picked and shoved it into her mouth.

Damn, that’s good! But it tastes a little different. Did I just remember it wrong?

Emma scrunched her face in confusion.

Just then, Killian started chuckling.

Fuck. Why does he have to have such a cute laugh?

“Uhh,” Killian started. “You should probably know that there’s a layer of pesticides over that apple.” Emma gaped at the apple which now had a huge chunk removed from it, a chunk that was by now likely chilling in her stomach. “Nothing that’ll harm you!” Killian assured. “However, it does throw off the taste. I think that should solve that mystery for you.”

Emma chuckled, remaining conscientious as to keep the nervousness at bay despite how difficult the task ended up being. After finishing her apple over some small talk with Killian, she went back to picking apples off the tree. Killian took another bag from his coat pocket and at her behest, started assisting her.

Okay, good. We’ve just got to finish filling these bags and then I can get out of here.  

She’d come back. Emma promised herself and Killian that much, however silently. For right now though, she couldn’t handle a soulmate.

For God’s sake, this was supposed to be a quick apple picking trip, not a rom-com!

“I gotta say,” Killian spoke, taking Emma from her thoughts, “I admire you for your dedication to your friend, but it’s a weird time for you to come all the way out here.”

Emma quirked her brow. “Why’s that? Some sort of festival going on?”

Killian looked at Emma as if she was crazy. “No, love. Amelia.”

Oh, please don’t say love.

She could feel her heart protest that sentiment, the tenseness that existed since she found out the truth being somewhat mitigated by the cozy feeling of the single word.

“Who’s Amelia?” Killian bit his lip, which was quite worrisome given his more chipper disposition from just a few moments ago. “Killian?”

“Amelia’s not a person, Emma,” he responded, so soberly that she felt a phantom shudder as he stared at her. “She’s a hurricane, and a bloody strong one. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of her. You can hardly walk ten miles without hearing anyone talk about it.”

“Oh crap,” Emma said, taking a hand away from her apple bag to massage her forehead.

“If you want to leave,” Killian spoke, “you need to get out of here fast.”

It didn’t take Emma long to come to a decision. She’d head out now. It was too much to not only confront the fact that they were soulmates, but to be trapped in the same town…

No. Especially not after last month…

She’d get Killian’s number or come by again after the storm let up. That way, she could talk to someone about this back home first. Maybe Regina would know what to do. Or hell, maybe she made a mistake. It was fall. Maybe everything just smelled like cinnamon up here and if she came by a few months later, the smell would be gone.

…That probably wasn’t true, but Emma entertained the notion all the same.

Emma nodded. “Let’s get these apples packed up. I’ll pay you then head out.”

“Good thin-”

Two simultaneous beeping sounds interrupted Emma’s words and a feeling of vibration from her pants let her know exactly where it was coming from.

Killian got to his phone first. He looked for a few seconds at the device before turning back to Emma, his tenuous face giving her insight into what he was about to say.

“The hurricane’s already caught up with the next town over and the main roads that lead out of here have just been shut down as a precaution.”

Words dried up on Emma lips like an ice cube in a cup of tea.

Until Hurricane Amelia let up and those lonely roads could be filled once more, she was stuck here.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

After a brisk walk back to the buildings beside Jones Farms, Killian invited Emma to use his laptop in the farmhouse. Already, Hurricane Amelia’s strength started to show itself. The winds were picking up fast and it had started raining on the return trip. Still, Emma retained some degree of optimism. Until the roads were shut down from within the town, she could conceivably find a hotel to stay at and avoid Killian altogether.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on their side.

There were very few hotels in the area and those that were around either had no vacancies or were off of or directly on roads that were rapidly closing down more and more with every click on the mouse.

After an hour of searching and a final emergency alert that definitively shut down all roads in Hudson, Emma closed the laptop with a sigh.

“Nothing,” she concluded, her eyes dull with the haze that followed resignation.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I know you only planned for a day trip. But, if it helps, you’re welcome to stay here for the duration of the hurricane. I’ve a spare room upstairs that’s all yours.”

It couldn’t be understated how badly Emma didn’t want this to be her only option. Killian was a smart guy and while cinnamon seemed to be a common smell by the storefront, it would make itself apparent as an outlier soon enough. He’d figure out they were soulmates, probably before if she was being generous

However, the fact of the matter was that this was her only option. The winds had only gotten stronger and while she’d slept in her car more than her fair share of times, she’d never been stupid enough to do it during a hurricane and that wasn’t about to change.

As for Killian, she’d do what she could to handle things.

After all, if cinnamon was Killian’s favorite scent too, maybe there was some finagaling that could be done.

“Thank you,” Emma said. “That’s really sweet. Can I pay you or something?”

“Nonsense!” Killian dismissed. “Besides, you’re doing me a favor.”

“How’s that?”

“It gets lonely during these hurricanes. The power goes out more often than not, it’s dark and disgusting, I forget to buy books, and there’s little else to do around here than gorge myself on cider and donuts. It’ll be nice having a spot of company. We could have a drink, share a story by the fire, also gorge ourselves on cider and donuts, play a board game.” Killian smiled goofily at her. “I’ve got Monopoly,” he added with a shrug.

Emma, despite every bit of panic in her bones, couldn’t help but smile back at the joke. “I’m in, but only if I can play the race car.”

Killian shook his head. “I’m always the racecar, love.” At that moment, Killian lowered his eyes to the floor. Once Emma’s eyes followed suit, she saw the small dark and damp looking circle at her feet. “Tell you what. Why don’t we pause our battle over the pieces and get you out of those wet clothes? I’ve some clean sweats you can change into.”

“Aren’t you the gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman,” Killian countered, a finger pointed at nothing particular. “Now, how about I continue to show myself as a gentleman and escort you to your dwelling?” As he spoke, he mock extended his hand, as if asking a beautiful lady to dance.

If Emma hadn’t been trying to keep a secret, she’d have groaned.

Could he be any more romantic?

Hesitantly, Emma smiled and slid her fingers onto his palm, completing the joke.

Killian showed Emma the way to her bedroom. It was cozy and small with a queen sized bed, a dresser with a mirror against the front wall, and a window that gave a nice view of the orchard.

“The sweats are in the top right drawer of the dresser. If you need me, I’ll be in my room down the hall. I think I need some clean clothes myself.” With a tap against the door, Killian exited the room, leaving Emma all alone.

When his footsteps were finally out of earshot and a door clicked shut in the distance, Emma leaned against the nearest wall and sighed.

How am I going to handle this now?

After soulmates were introduced, it didn’t take long for them to realize it. For Regina, it had taken a few weeks, but she had the benefit of living far across town from Robin and by her own nature, was so focused on the Bloody Ploughmans that she went all that time missing the forest for the trees.

Killian, Emma was willing to bet, would not. Not only was he perceptive – and more emotionally speaking than most – but they were now in the same house and weren’t going anywhere until this hurricane passed. It wouldn’t take long before the smell of cinnamon became too abundant to ignore.

A sigh parted her lips.

So that left her wondering: should she tell him the truth now? On some level she wanted to. He was a great guy, if not a touch too idealistic in his views on love and harboring this secret was going to be a pain for however long she had to. That said, Emma also saw a future past the reveal, and things didn’t go smoothly there. Killian was so invested in the idea of soulmates. If Emma approached things the wrong way, it could make for a very awkward evening.

Besides, Emma reminded herself, she had a plan.

She’d go home.

She’d talk to her friends.

She’d maybe even see a therapist.

Then she’d come back and talk to Killian, when she knew the right thing to say.

But that meant until then, she’d need to fight the clock.

Emma looked out the window. Leaves flew through the air like bluebirds, and the comparison was only solidified by the unique whistle that the wind made. She was going to be stuck in the house for the night, maybe even two if things weren’t better the next day.

Of course I don’t have anything I can pretend is perfume or deodorant.

As Emma took in and mused over her situation, she took a deep breath. As the oxygen inflated her lungs like a vacuum bag, it revealed something quite curious: the smell of cinnamon was out of her nose shot.

And as loathe as she was to admit it, that revelation gave her a glimmer of hope.

Maybe Killian wouldn’t figure out they were soulmates if Emma played things smart. When they were both in their rooms, any clues that they were soul mates were nonexistent. Obviously, she couldn’t ignore Killian, but if she could keep in her room just long enough to keep any suspicions that he’d have at bay while not proving herself to be rude, she’d possibly be able to get away with their secret intact.

Just until she had that precious time to think.

A squishy feeling from below Emma’s boots drifted her away from her thoughts. Though not as big as the circle she made downstairs, this room’s beige carpet was starting to darken from the wayward drips of rain coming off of her jeans.

Speaking of thinking, I think I need to change clothes.

Emma looked at the top drawer that Killian pointed her to when she had first entered the room. Inside it was a pair of grey sweatpants as well as a matching sweatshirt. Both looked to be about a size bigger than she was, but Emma could tell that they’d fit fine enough.

So, to the sound of musical winds and thumping against the outer walls, she began to undress.

She got on the sweatpants and was about to put on the sweatshirt. Her hand had enclosed the garment when all of the sudden, less than six feet from her, there was a crash.

The entire explosion happened in an instant. Glass shattered and spread across the room like water over a beach at high tide. Right afterwards, the wind and rain began pouring in as aggressively as a hornet.

And somewhere in that mix, though she was uncertain of exactly when, Emma screamed.

“Emma!” Killian shouted as he ran inside. “Are you alright?” He looked at her with a primal fear in his eyes, only turning to look at the shattered window after a few seconds.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay. A branch must have crashed through the window.” Her words were proven true by the large piece of bark that currently leaned against her bed.

“Damn,” Killian muttered, right before turning to her again. “But at least you’re okay.”

Then something strange happened. Killian, who was noticeably only looking Emma in the eye, choked.

It was only at that point that she realized he, with a labored but steadily heaving chest, was shirtless.

In the moments where Killian had just entered the room, Emma had been too focused on the ruckus, as she should’ve been and the panic in his eyes as he examined both her and the scene.

But now the worst of the danger had passed, and his assets were fully on display.

And hers too.

Crap!

The sweatshirt - still not on her body, but pressed against her nonetheless - had done a fine job concealing Emma’s top half, but now was the time to properly wear it.

Killian seemed to realize this too. He held his left hand to his eyes and averted his gaze back towards the window.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I heard the crash and a shout-”

“It’s fine. I get it,” Emma interrupted, somewhat muffled by the sweatshirt that was going over her head. When it was finally on her person, Emma set about grabbing the stuff she’d brought into the room before stepping aside so Killian could inspect his window.

As Killian looked around, it became increasingly clear just how unsafe the area was. Glass was still falling off the window and rain was flying from the other side, and while the glass had mostly just missed him, the rain had been far more successful in that endeavor, hitting his face more and more with every passing second. After a full minute of this, Killian stepped back and turned to Emma.

“How bad?” Emma asked.

“Mother Nature’s quite upset with us. That branch did a clear number on this window and the room. I won’t be able to repair that, at least not until the storm’s gone. I can try to tape a shower curtain over it, but with the fierceness of this storm, I’m not confident it’ll hold. The most I can do otherwise is I bottle it shut with some towels.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“There’s a container down by the kitchen – big and blue, you can’t miss it – that could hold back the excess water from getting all over the floor and causing flooding. If you could get me that, that’d be great. I’m going to put my sweater back on and get to work.”

Emma headed downstairs and made her way into the kitchen. Sure enough, just as Killian said, there was a big blue container in the back.

Okay. Time to get this sucker upstairs.

Taking an edge of the container in each hand, Emma lifted it. She was all ready to go back upstairs and deliver the container to Killian when suddenly, something appeared out of the corner of her eye. Had she moved her head at any other angle, she would’ve missed it completely, but she hadn’t, and there it was, calling out to her like a sign.

A box of apple cinnamon tea and an old iron kettle right by its side.

Talk about fate.

The ensuing plan was formed in a matter of seconds and her hands were bringing the kettle to the sink after another pinch of them. Emma dropped the box and began to fill the kettle with water and stuck the last of the tea into the infuser inside of it, feeling a certain culpable delight as she got a whiff at the cinnamon, artificial for the first time since she’d discovered the truth. She set it on the stove and put the heat on.

The whole while that Emma conspired and enacted her plan, she felt her heart thumping heavily and quickly in her chest, beating as if she could be discovered at any minute.

Or like she wanted to be discovered.

Emma dismissed the notion as she continued to toil over her brew.

It’s for the best, just for now.

Once she was done, Emma grabbed the container again and brought it back upstairs to her room. As she entered, Killian was still at work, doing his best to hold the shower curtain down against the violent rain and winds. If Killian wasn’t already soaked from the downpour and his initial inspection of the window, he certainly was now. Emma quickly dropped the container in her arms and rushed to his side, holding the sides of the shower curtain he wasn’t using down.

“My hero!” Killian praised upon realizing what she was doing. The two smiled at each other and with the other sides of the shower curtain taken care of, Killian was able to make fast work of the project. After he was done, he put some extra towels on the floor and Emma put the container on top of them.

Breathless after the whole ordeal was done, Emma made a move to sit on the bed.

“Wait!” Killian cried before her tush could land. Carefully, he grabbed a piece of glass from just under her. “There’s more on there, too.”

Taking the hint, Emma leaned against the wall instead, just as she had when she first entered the room. At that moment, she noticed, much to her chagrin, that the smell of cinnamon had returned, and that the tea she prepared downstairs wasn’t anywhere close to boiling yet.

Fortunately, Killian seemed too occupied examining the destroyed room to contemplate the smell in any meaningful way. Emma looked on at the glass spread all over the floor and over the bed. The branch may have only given the window a single hit, but that single hit had evidently been more than enough to not only break the glass, but to shatter it entirely. All the while, the outside world was trying its best to wreck the window’s replacement. The wind puffed the shower curtain forward like a sail on the sea, and while it put up a good fight, there was no guarantee that it would be a solution that could unquestionably whether the storm.

All in all, Emma knew she couldn’t stay here.

Apparently, Killian picked up on that as well, for he moved to answer it for her.

“We’ll have to get you to another room,” he said.

Thankfully, Emma had a plan already brewing for that.

“Don’t worry,” she said, shrugging. “The couch looks comfy enough to spend a night or two on. I’ll ride out the storm there.”

And it seemed to be one that would work fine.

…For about as long as she was saying it.

But as soon as she was done, the pushback began.

Killian shook his head. “Not a chance. No guest of mine will stay on a couch, or at least not that couch. It my appear to be good for a nap, but trust me when I say its springs will surely kill you. No, you can have my bed, and I’ll weather that accursed thing.”

Emma groaned internally, knowing what she had to do. Damnit, the idea of them being in separate rooms was so perfect! It would’ve kept them apart and more importantly, keep the truth at bay, just until Emma figured out how to handle it.

But she couldn’t kick Killian out of his own room. Not after everything he had already done for her. Not with his low-hanging shoulders. Not with the way his hair that had fallen from the moisture of a long day’s work and a hurricane, doing more to show off his exhaustion than Emma was willing to bet his words ever would of Killian’s own volition.

And not after he had shown himself to be such a good guy.

“Why don’t we share it?” Emma suggested, fighting the hesitation that threatened to voice itself as best as she could.

Killian’s brows raised, and she could see him get smaller in the way he carried himself. “Are you sure?” he asked, the light glaze of nervousness obvious in his voice. “I-I mean, I promise to be a gentleman, of course.”

Despite her concerns, at the memory of a familiar phrase, Emma couldn’t resist the urge to make a little quip.

“I thought you were always a gentleman,” she countered.

“I-,” Killian started, but stopped his words in their tracks. After releasing a cough, he adjusted himself, looking like he was willfully banishing the worry from his system. He seemed to have accepted Emma’s offer with no reservations. “Thank you, Emma,” he said. Emma could feel his earnestness, just like she imagined he felt hers as she wordlessly told him that he was welcome.

The gratefulness there made for a meddlesome reminder that she was lying to his face.

Universe, you sure you didn’t mess this one up too?

He deserves someone who’ll be a real soulmate to him, someone who believes in the whole soulmate thing and that it really can last forever.

What he doesn’t deserve is a liar.

Suddenly, from outside the room, Emma could hear a loud whistle, pulling her from the inside of her head.

“Did you make tea?” Killian inquired, a cocked head.

“I figured it would be good to get ourselves warm after we were done with the window.”

Killian smiled. “Generous and kind. You’re one of a kind, Emma Swan, and I hope a friend.”

Emma felt her breath stagnate.

Once you figure out we’re soulmates, you’ll definitely want to be more than friends.

And that’s only going to make it worse when I tell you I can’t.

Because while you deserve a happily ever after, I don’t know if I can give you one.

I hope you know that when I finally tell you, it’s gonna hurt for me too.

He was close to her now, close enough to kiss if either of them wanted to.

It was annoying how appealing that was and how the notion so nearly overpowered her fears.

It was extra annoying given how the appeal of Killian Jones in general had so far won on more than one occasion, and she wasn’t about to let it win here.

“Monopoly!” The word burst out before Emma could process it. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her to catch up. “Bet you won’t consider me a friend after we play Monopoly. So why don’t you get dressed and I’ll serve us up a cup of tea? Then I’ll show you how generous and kind I really am when I get those railroads from you.”

Killian smirked. “Game on, Swan. You best take the race car, cause you’re going to need it for luck. I’ll see you in five.” With that, he made off for his room, leaving Emma to descend the staircase with both hope and dread battling a what was essentially a Cold War in her chest as the scent of cinnamon vanished once more.

Oh believe me, I’ll need luck for a lot more than Monopoly.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Never let it be said that tea time couldn’t get intense.

Killian and Emma were quite the fierce competitors and Monopoly had run them well past the setting of the sun, running so late that they took a break to make dinner. All the while, their tea – and more importantly to Emma, the accompanying cinnamony aroma – continued to permeate the living room for the duration of the game.

“Shouldn’t have given you that race car,” Killian said, a good-natured tone present in his voice as he shook his head. “Told you it was lucky.”

Emma, proud of her victory, smirked. “Luck has nothing to do with it when you’re smart enough not to buy Baltic.”

“What did you want me to do? I had a Monopoly there!”

“Maybe use that to buy some houses on your yellows.”

She looked over at Killian, who was now slumping in his chair. A drawn out yawn roared from the innards of his mouth and much like a disease, it was quite contagious and suddenly, Emma was belting one out as well.

“Quite a day it’s been, between apple picking, hurricanes, a shattered window, and a positively gruesome game of Monopoly,” Killian said.

Emma, content as she rubbed her belly to alleviate the full stomach dinner and their dessert of apple cider donuts, snorted. “I’ve been to New York a few times, and the one thing I’ve learned throughout all of them is that you never know what you’re gonna get.”

“Does anything top this?”

“Not unless you count ramen burgers.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“You know, when the song said, if you can make it in New York, you could make it anywhere, our city neighbors took that a touch too literally.”

The two of them laughed for several long minutes. During that time, Emma’s guard began to drop and her mind wandered to places she hadn’t allowed it to go. She imagined a reality were she felt comfortable telling Killian they were soulmates, one where tonight could be celebrated as the first adventure in a life that would be full of them. She imagined coming home to a house draped with the scent of cinnamon and beaming, just knowing that inside was someone who would stand by her forever, no matter the obstacle.

It was a reality she had only recently barred herself from, but one that was so comforting to return to.

One that was too comforting to return to.

Shit

Emma knew she could drop the truth bomb now. Killian clearly hadn’t figured out the truth yet.

But the thought of it made her too nervous. Opening the door to the truth meant opening the door to their future together.

The only problem was that there was a chance neither of them would like where that door led, and that possibility held Emma back.

If things fail, I don’t want to hurt him.

If things fail, I don’t want to hurt me .

Killian, still oblivious to all of this, looked towards the distance at what Emma soon discovered was a clock.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “Why don’t you head off to bed?”

Emma felt a hitch in her throat, rendering her nearly speechless.

“Yeah,” she croaked, wishing that there was still some of the apple cinnamon tea left.

“You sound parched. How about you go upstairs and get settled in and I’ll grab you a glass of water.”

“Are you sure? I could grab it if you want.”

“Nah, that’s fine. Besides, there’s something I wanted to check on in the kitchen.”

Emma was vaguely curious about what exactly it was that Killian wanted to check on, but the idea of having some time to herself was too alluring to possibly risk by asking questions. And so she went upstairs, making a quick trip to the bathroom before heading to the bedroom across the way. Killian’s room was cozy, furnished with a neatly made king-sized bed with a navy comforter and one nightstand at each side, beige cabinets and drawers spread around the room, and a television parallel to the door. Much like Emma’s room, there was a large window, though it thankfully wasn’t broken.

Closing the door behind her, Emma sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands, finally letting out a half-hearted groan.

Killian was right: It had been a long day, and an even longer on for her.

This whole ordeal was harder than she’d thought. When she first learned she and Killian were soulmates, Emma hadn’t come to terms with it – she still hadn’t – but at least she had a plan and didn’t feel as tight knit to him as to make her feel too guilty about implementing it to stop herself from doing so. But the later afternoon and evening had exposed more than her prowess at board games.

It had exposed something of a normalcy. Were they together, she knew when times were good, that a day like this – the introductions and storm aside – could conceivably be what she could expect. The layout felt right enough: a trip to the fields, discoveries of even more personal stories, a night playing a game or even just watching TV together, and bantering all the while.

And Emma liked that. Talking with Killian was the most natural thing in the world. Even as she swallowed her insecurities through the hours she spent together, she could hardly say she was having a bad time throughout it. Spending time with him was fun. Killian was charismatic, but not too over-the-top and made the unexpected into an adventure just through his presence and sense of humor.

Yes, when times were good, Emma could see an ideal future with Killian Jones forever by her side.

The only troubling thing was the reality she was all too aware of: Times weren’t always good, and of that inevitability, she had no vision of what could come to pass.

What was Killian like when he was sad or upset? What about when he was angry or was going through real misfortune? A couple of times throughout their games, Emma was tempted to test those emotions, but she didn’t want to cause him harm, especially when he had done nothing to warrant it.

It was the exact same reason why she had continued to hold her tongue about the very matter of them being soulmates, and why she would continue to do so for however long she’d have to.

Now how long will that be?

Emma checked her phone. She opened up the weather app and saw a rain symbol right under the word “Tomorrow.” Of course, it wasn’t indicative of whether or not the hurricane would continue, but the possibility still existed.

Another groan, this time closer to a whine came out.

Damnit. Not what I wanted to hear.

She took a pause and another deep breath. It would be hard – just as today was – but she’d figure it out.

And so Emma picked herself up and settled herself into the left most and less lived-in side of Killian’s bed, all the while continuing to lick her proverbial wounds and try to plan for what the next morning might bring. The plush mattress underneath her form cozily ensnared her and the still whistling winds began to sing her their own kind of lullaby to the beat of the tapping rain against the roof.

Emma felt her upper eyelid start to succumb to its own weight, threatening to close. Just as she was about to let them, Killian stepped into the room, a glass of water in hand.

“Thanks,” Emma murmured sleepily while he placed the glass at her nightstand. She looked at him and noticed an apprehensive expression across his features. “Everything okay?”

In an instant, Killian’s expression made a complete change, now appearing as if he were just caught.

“Yes,” he dismissed. “Everything’s alright.”

If Killian had hoped to fool Emma with what he said, he was wrong. However, the pull of sleep won out over any curiosity that she had for the matter, and she let it go.

We’ll talk tomorrow.

A duet of good night’s filled the air, and as light left the room, so did all but the sounds of natures and snores.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

CRAAAAAACK!

In the midst of ebony left shortly after a shockwave of brightness, Emma gasped, startled awake.

A fear of thunder had never been something she ever fully got over from her childhood uneasiness, but this outburst of the elements was a particularly loud one and took Emma out of her slumber with a single crack.

“You okay?” a quiet whisper from beside her spoke.

“Killian?” Emma mumbled. She coughed once and composed herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, her volume restored. “Did I wake you up?”

“No need to apologize,” he assuaged. “And no, I was up earlier from another bolt. I’ve never been great with thunder either.”

“You could tell?” Even though she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, Emma could tell he was smirking as he heard her question.

“As I said earlier, you’re an easy read.”

Not to mention, your soulmate.

And suddenly, Emma too notice of the scent of cinnamon in the air. It wasn’t heavy, but what it was was hard to ignore.

She only hoped that Killian somehow had been able to do it.

Emma, biting her lip, checked her phone for the time. It was a little past two in the morning. That crack of thunder had fully woken her up and if Killian had been up for some time like he said he was, the same could definitely be said for him.

Great.

“May I turn on a light?” Killian asked from across the darkness.

“Yeah. Go for it.” A second later, the lamp from Killian’s nightstand lit up the room. It was bright enough to cause discomfort for a moment or two, but not enough to give that feeling of needing to start the day. Emma sat up in the bed, matching Killian who was already in the position. With her phone still in her hand, she tried looking at the weather app, but the service she had enjoyed all throughout yesterday was nowhere to be found.

“You can thank the hurricane for that little inconvenience. The service went out at least an hour or two ago. Small towns, you know. Cell phone towers are the first thing to go. I’m just glad we still have power, at least for now. Of course, if you need a phone, I’ve a landline downstairs. All yours.”

“No thanks. I just wanted to see an update on the storm.”

“I’m afraid that’s still up in the air.” As if to emphasize the point, a flash of lightning as well as an accompanying crack of thunder chose that moment to present themselves to the world. It wasn’t as powerful as its predecessor, but it nonetheless had the both of them letting out a small shudder. As they locked eyes, they gave each other a comforting smile.

“How bad was the one that woke you up?” Emma asked.

“Not too bad. Definitely not as loud as the one that got you, but to be fair, I’m quite perceptive when it comes to sounds to begin with.”

Apart from a courteous chuckle, Emma said nothing and for a moment, a silence bubbled in the space between them. She looked out the window at the skies. It wasn’t easy to see, but from what she could make out, the weather was just as violent, if not more so, than it was Hurricane Amelia first started up yesterday afternoon.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here,” Killian said quietly.

Emma shrugged. “It’s fine,” she answered. Though careful to keep the lie off her tongue, Emma found that it was a task she found easy enough to do when she thought of her relative fortune given the circumstances. After all, a broken window aside, she was in a safe house in the middle of a harsh hurricane. “Besides, you’re a good host.”

“Thank you,” Killian said. Emma took a glance at him and saw that he was biting his lower lip.

He’s…nervous?

She was about to give voice to her concern when Killian beat her to the punch.

“Can I say something?” he asked.

“O-of course.”

“Remember last night, when you asked me when everything was alright, and I said it was?” Emma nodded, the memory as fresh as the apples on the trees outside. “Well, I lied,” he confessed.

“Yeah, I figured. Just like I told you earlier, you’re not the hardest read either.” Killian gave a chuckle that was very much like the courtesy chuckle Emma gave him earlier, but otherwise remained quiet. At a closer look, Emma saw him once again biting his lip. “So, what’s up?”

“It’s just that I-” Killian stopped and took a deep breath before starting again. “Emma, I’ve noticed something.”

Oh crap.

As Emma listened to Killian and processed his words, she began to notice the speed at which her heart was beating. “O-oh?” she uttered. “What’s that?”

Killian, clearly too caught up in his own nerves, didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that hers were shooting through the roof. “Last night, while we were playing, I realized I was smelling cinnamon all around the house.”

“You mean from the tea?” Emma quickly suggested in a vain hope to deter Killian’s line of thought.

However, it didn’t work.

“That’s what I thought at first,” Killian explained. “But I’ve been drinking that tea for years now, and it’s never been that powerful. Even when we finished, the smell was still there. So when you went up to the bedroom, I grabbed the mugs, but when I took a whiff out of mine, I could barely pick up the scent. The smell went from being everywhere to practically gone. Then I went back to my seat in the den and tried smelling for it. I even went outside to see if it was the machine. But nothing.” He stopped and took another deep breath and turned to Emma, the corner of his lips tugged up ever so slightly. “And then I thought of something you said back at the store.”

Oh crap.

“W-hat was that?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

“How much you loved cinnamon,” he said simply. “ So I came up with a little theory and tested it. I grabbed that glass of water for you and came upstairs and when I reached my room…the smell came back. It was just as potent as it was when you left.”

Oh crap.

Emma struggled to speak or even make a single noise.

“Emma,” Killian said, his volume just above a whisper. “I think we’re soulmates.”

As Killian’s – and unbeknownst to him, Emma’s – truth proclaimed itself once and for all, only one thin went through Emma’s head.

Oh crap!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

For the first few seconds after Killian announced his and Emma’s shared fate as soulmates, Emma felt her entire self go as blank as a sheet of paper. She found her ability to speak as nonexistent as a unicorn riding atop a dragon. Her thoughts blurred like the eyesight of a drunkard. Her hearing was muffled like a groan into a pillow.

Killian found out they were soulmates.

For as much as Emma had tried to prevent him from finding out the truth, she hadn’t thought of how she’d handle it when he eventually did.

But that time had finally arrived and now the best Emma knew that she could hope to do was try and hide the fact that she knew for as long as she did.

So when those mercilessly slow seconds at last passed, she realized she’d need to react somehow to the news.

Here goes nothing.

A smile and a “yeah” that was as excited as Emma could hope for was the response she settled on.

Right beside her, Killian was beaming, as ecstatic as Emma imagined he would be.

And as ecstatic as she feared he would be.

“I can’t believe–I’d always hoped–And with you–” Killian was practically tripping over the words that came out of his mouth at a mile a minute. “This is amazing!” he cried, the volume in his voice now bereft of its respect for the quiet of the early morning and was as loud as it would’ve been in the middle of the day.

In the midst of Killian’s tornado of thrills, Emma did her best to get swept up in it too.

With the bounciness of a box of puppies, he certainly made it enticing to try.

As he talked, Emma made the effort. She pushed for a hearty laugh and she made her smile large enough to match his.

While not entirely for naught – doing as much as could be conceivably done for the ten seconds of work she could afford to give in the time she had – it did little to banish the butterflies in her chest.

Suddenly, through her cotton sweats, Emma felt a patch of heat gently pressed against her. She looked to her side and saw that Killian had placed his hand upon her forearm.

“I’m so happy,” he said, practically cooing. Emma’s smile grew smaller, but at the same time, so much more sincere. “Are you?”

It was a tough question to answer.

Killian’s short term excitement should’ve made her happy. His smile should’ve made her happy.

And they almost did.

Key word: almost.

And there lied the problem.

Killian was a perceptive man. It was something he had proven himself to be throughout the past day and Emma knew better than to doubt it now. If she lied, he’d know it.

It was one thing to project a negative emotion onto something other than its intention. Emma was able to do it earlier on the orchard by feigning hunger. It was another thing to straight up lie about an emotion’s existence.

No matter how badly she wanted to feel it.

But it didn’t stop her from trying.

“Of course,” she answered, fighting with all her might to will her words into fact.

Sadly though, despite her wish, it didn’t take.

Killian’s face crinkled as he listened. His features darkened, his smile dissolved and his brows furrowed. “No you’re not,” he said, so much conviction in his voice that Emma believed that he was as sure of the truth as the sun is sure of rising each day.

And the exposure of that one lie seemed to start a domino effect of doubt.

“Emma, you have been smelling something, right?”

At least I can tell the truth about this.

“I have,” she responded, her tone now matching his.

“When did you first notice it?” he asked immediately afterwards. There was an imperativeness to his words, but his eyes were pleading with her. They looked to be trying to find an excuse to reject the truth that was undeniably becoming so clear.

Emma worked to give him that truth, but Killian had clearly run out of patience.

“You…you said earlier that you didn’t care for soulmates,” he pointed out. Emma saw him putting puzzle pieces together and finally, reaching the conclusion Emma was most afraid of. “Emma, Did you know…the whole time?”

No, it wasn’t the whole time, but it was damn well over half of one and well past when Killian discovered it. To point out the difference would be meaningless.

So Emma said the only thing she could.

“I…” Emma sighed. “I did.”

The effect was instantaneous. Killian’s lips seemed to be forming the word “why,” but couldn’t get enough support from his diaphragm to give it any voice. He slid back down so he was once again lying in the bed. His eyes took on such a sad expression. Emma wasn’t sure whether or not there was the start of welling tears, but there grew a certain puffiness to his eyes.

In short, he looked like she’d just ripped his heart out of his chest, and hell, in that moment, she felt like that’s exactly what she did.

Killian turned so that his back was to Emma. If Emma felt at a loss for what to say or do before, it was nothing compared to how she was feeling now. A verbal apology would do nothing, a touch would feel too intimate and raw, and now she couldn’t even apologize with her eyes.

Before Emma could think anymore on it, Killian got up from the bed.

She knew she couldn’t leave what had happened at that, but what exactly she wanted to say still left her struggling to convey properly. In the end, something that was a mix of a squeak and a protest came out of Emma’s mouth, though it was as meager as the size of an ant’s leg.

“I,” Killian started, cutting her off while not even looking at her with a hurt-strained voice. “I just need a minute.”

Out of his line of vision, Emma nodded, her mouth agape from the seemingly guiltlessness of how he went about his decision. Since yesterday afternoon when they had met, he had constantly given her a choice as to how he’d behave, whether formal or friendly. For the first time though, as he’d walked out of the bedroom door, he had taken the decision for himself alone.

As the door closed, vacating Killian’s form from her line of sight, so did the smell of cinnamon vacate Emma’s nose.

And once it was gone – after staying with Emma in the midst of a hurricane – Emma realized just how much she missed its presence.

Emma, who remained sitting up in the bed, listened as the sound of creaking floors grew softer and softer. For the next hour, she continued doing just that, frozen with both regret for her lie and hope that at any second, she’d hear him come back.

It was a childish presumption and after the shock and initial run of panic had worn off, it didn’t take long for her to realize that.

So what am I supposed to do now?

Throughout their time together, Killian had only expressed a true desire for only one thing: His soulmate.

And for almost just as long, Emma knew exactly where he would find them and chose to withhold it.

Were they worth the guilt that was now cutting into her chest? Worse, were her fears worth the betrayal in Killian’s eyes or the destruction of the newly formed yet completely solid companionship they had built thus far? Were they worth the tells of doubt and worries of worthlessness that spread across his features like sand over a beach?

No, of course not. And now that the fallout had ensued, she’d regretted making it so.

And it was now her job to fix it.

But how would she do it?

Was it better to give him his space, or should she talk to him before the situation became unfixable or at the very least too awkward to mend in a meaningful way?

As Emma pondered this, she realized that she ended up answering her own question and quietly, she got up from the bed and left the room.

The walk down the staircase had Emma’s heart feel like it was thumping like a rabbit’s foot with nervousness and anticipation. It felt like a puzzle to not let the errant boards squeak, as if she would further hurt Killian by making any premature noise, and when it was at last over, she felt relief.

She found Killian sitting on the couch, a box of apple cider donuts in front of him. He didn’t seem to register her presence, apparently too caught up in her own thoughts to do anything other than look down towards his hand and prosthetic.

As the scent of cinnamon returned once more, something that Killian either hadn’t noticed or hadn’t care any longer, a fresh pang of guilt attacked her: guilt over causing this and guilt that her nerves still had power over her even as she attempted to do damage control.

Should I be doing this?

Yes, she pushed herself. She should. A lie got her into this mess, and the truth would be what would hopefully set things right.

“Hey,” Emma spoke softly. Killian blinked and turned to her. His mouth opened as if to speak, but ended up staying silent.

So Emma chose to fill the air instead.

“Can we talk?”

With his teeth pursed against his lips, Killian nodded and Emma sat down at his side.

“Are you mad?”

Killian let out a sigh, as if he was finally releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I…I don’t know. Confused, definitely. Hurt too. But- no,” he seemed to decide. “I’m not mad.”

For a moment, Emma desperately wanted to smile. Despite his suffering and what could’ve been justifiable anger, Killian had chosen to instead be kind to her and honest with himself.

Universe, this guy is way too good for me.

But she couldn’t, for with every word Killian spoke, Emma felt her guilt pound at her like the wood beneath a judge’s gavel, and despite knowing that Killian hadn’t intended it, the pain was insufferable.

She was willing to bet that his pain could match it. After all, what does one think when their soulmate lies to them about it? Rejected? Unwanted? Like a trapeze artist who just lost their safety net in the midst of the circus?

Emma knew those feelings all too well.

Never had she imagined she’d pass them along to someone else.

What do I do now?

“I’m sorry I lied, Killian,” Emma said. “The whole soulmate thing, it’s…” – how would she finish that? – “Complicated.”

Killian, despite Emma’s every expectation, gave her a soft smile. It was as thin as a piece of angel hair spaghetti, but it said all that it needed to about whether or not he’d forgive Emma.

“It could definitely be worse,” he commented, shrugging with a lightness in both his form and tone.

“Really?”

“Remember that big TV special about the soulmates who hated each others favorite smells and had to video chat just so they could stay together? I’d say this is a touch easier.”

He’s got a point there.

“You’ve got a point there,” she said, reflecting her thoughts perfectly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. A jackrabbit on methamphetamine could’ve moved slower than Emma’s thoughts. Killian had taken her lie and apology far better than Emma could’ve hoped for or even deserved.

But what would they do now?

Well, one thing was for certain: Emma needed to start explaining herself.

“I was going to tell you,” Emma explained. “Not during this trip, but I was planning on coming back to tell you.”

Killian nodded, apparently taking the information in.

“May I ask you something, Emma?”

Emma knew what was coming, but nodded just the same.

“Why don’t you want to be soulmates?” The utterance was just as predictable and heart breaking as she expected it to be, and knowing that it was coming didn’t help it feel any better. “Is it just the concept of soulmates in general, or is it me?”

“No,” Emma practically shouted. “It’s not you.”

Well, not fully, but I’ll get to that.

Killian snorted, probably at the sheer loudness of her outburst. “Good to know. But why then?”

Emma took a deep breath. She hadn’t told anyone about a good deal of this. Hell, some parts even Regina wasn’t privy to.

And now she was about to tell Killian every bit of it, warts and all.

Well, he deserves the truth.

“I grew up in the foster system.” Another deep breath came to pass before Emma realized it. “But you already knew that. What you don’t know is that my parents left me on the side of the road.” Killian gave a nod, something Emma surmised was the best he probably felt he could do without coming off as pitying.

She’d be lying if she said it went unappreciated.

“When I was fourteen, a woman named Ingrid and her husband fostered me for a bit, and she and I grew close. We went on walks to the park, amusement parks, the pier. There was hardly a weekend we weren’t together. I really thought she’d adopt me. But then, one day, a social worker came and just like that, I was off again, with hardly a goodbye from her.”

Killian made eye contact with Emma, signaling to his hand as if asking permission to use it to comfort her. Emma gave him permission with another light nod, and Killian delicately placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Emma,” he said. “You don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you want to stop.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “I want to. This is just…”

“A lot,” Killian finished.

“Yeah.” Emma took another deep breath. “Besides, you told me a bit of your story. The least I can do is give you a glimmer of mine.” Emma found herself able to smile at that homage to KIllian’s words. And just like Emma, Killian’s hand drifted to his heart.

Maybe we really are soulmates.

“I dealt with it and moved on – don’t get me wrong. After I made it through the foster system, I moved to a nice town, made friends, and got a good job. And then a month ago, I got a message from her on Facebook. She had looked me up and invited me to come to her house. So I went, hoping to get some answers.”

“And did you?”

Emma bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, the volume of her voice only a touch above a whisper. Killian gave her shoulder a small squeeze, and she melted into the touch.

“So what happened?” he prompted.

“I got right to the point and asked her why she gave me up.”

Killian gave a light smirk. “You’re the blunt type,” he excused when Emma gave him a raised brow.

Fair enough.

In keeping with that very same blunt nature, Emma continued. “She had a lot to say on the subject. Turns out she wanted me, but her husband didn’t. He had commitment issues, according to Ingrid. Foster care was their compromise, but the idea of actually adopting a kid? That was a different story. Ingrid loved me, but her soulmate Spencer didn’t and there was no way she’d be able to adopt me alone on an ice cream lady’s salary. And so I went back into the system.”

“I imagine that didn’t bode well for Ingrid and Spencer.”

“You’d be right,” she said. “After I left, apparently things went south with Spencer.”

“And they were soulmates,” Killian repeated. Emma nodded.

“Ingrid said she used to smell fresh mowed grass every day before she and Spencer split up, but unless the gardeners show up, she hasn’t had a whiff of it since, and when she does, she can barely stand it.” Killian moved his arm from Emma’s shoulder onto her arm and the warmth of a tender squeeze graced her skin again.

“Swan –”

Emma lifted a hand to stop Killian’s words early, silently begging him to let her keep going. Killian closed his mouth, and she continued on.

“Before I left her house last month, Ingrid warned me about soulmates and love and all of it. She told me soulmates were like two scoops of unlabeled ice cream. You could get two that complement each other perfectly, like vanilla or chocolate, or you could get two that go together like cilantro lime and carrot top.”

“Are those actually ice cream flavors?” Killian had a face that was just as silly as his question was.

Emma, at a loss for words, albeit for an entirely different reason, gave Killian a look that screamed of exasperation with another raised eyebrow for emphasis.

Killian’s expression lost its hold, though its kindness remained as it was. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“You’d be surprised what ice cream can taste like,” Emma said, indulging him. Then, remembering her point, she sighed. “But you get it right? I mean, we’re soulmates, sure, and you’re great, but I- with what happened- how can we know if we belong together? Soulmates usually work out, but sometimes they don’t and I don’t want to end up like Ingrid. And I know that it’s just one time, but it just got me thinking: What’s going to happen when things get tough? Right now even, we live six hours away from each other and I don’t even know if either of our careers would allow us to move. Just…with the odds against us like they are, it’s..” When she was finally done speaking, she took a deep breath, finally allowing an admittedly very patient Killian to take the floor.

“It’s just got you nervous,” Killian finished.

Emma gave him a light smile. “You know me well.”

“Better now that we’re really talking.”

“And what do you think of me now?”

“That you’re an intelligent woman, although you could stand to trust a bit more.” Emma massaged the bridge of her nose with her fingers and after a moment, her entire hand encapsulated her face as she openly groaned into it.

He’s not wrong.

“You also understand love in a different way than I do, and that’s not a bad thing,” Killian continued. “Thank you for telling me your story. And I get why you’re so skittish at the idea of us being soulmates.” Emma removed her hand from her face.

“I know you want one,” Emma said. “You wanted someone who’d always be with you and live up here on the farm and survive everything with you. I’m just not sure if I can be that. That’s why I kept quiet. I just wanted some time to figure out what to say after I told you the truth.”

“And it was just a hope, but hopes can change.”

“But how much of your hopes are you willing to bargain with? I don’t even know what the answer would be with me.”

It was true. Emma liked her affordable and established home in Storybrooke. She liked being close to Regina, the closest thing to family she had. And while her job certainly had its hit-or-miss days – though she reminded herself that no job didn’t have that – she liked it more than she didn’t and it was the first career she felt she’d ever been truly good at.

Even if things worked out with Killian, could she see herself giving all of that up? And if not, would there be room for compromise or would they just fall apart?

So much of her didn’t want to find that out.

And suddenly, she felt that same racking of nerves that she allowed to control her all throughout yesterday.

“Emma,” Killian called. She looked up at him.

Guess I got caught up in my own head.

“You’re getting caught up in that head of yours,” he mock chided. Emma took a deep breath.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re too good at that?”

“I have a feeling you’re about to,” he countered, smirking. “Emma, I honestly understand what you’re talking about.”

“You do?”

“More than you would think,” Killian commented. He bit his lip and Emma by now was more than well aware of his own tell of nervousness. “Remember when I told you about my parents?”

Emma nodded slowly. “Yeah. You said they were gone, but one more than the other?”

“Indeed I did,” he concurred. “My mother died when my brother and I were young. She said she and my father were soulmates and that she’d smell a freshly printed pound every day when he came home from work, just as he’d recount the smell of the sea whenever he was by her side to us.”

“It didn’t last?”

“No. Shortly after her death, he left us. Apparently, he loved the smell of pounds so much, that he made off with a briefcase of them one day, but forgot us on the way out. While I didn’t get to spend much time with my mother, I know she’d never have wanted that.”

“You’re right,” Emma agreed. “I can’t see anyone related to you who’d do that.”

“Then I’m happy to know I take more after her then. Anyway, Liam and I did a lot of traveling when we were on our own, and do you know what I discovered along the way?”

“Bloody Ploughmans?” Emma quipped.

“Smart ass,” Killian shot back, smiling all the while. “No, Emma. Soulmates. All kinds. Ones that worked out, and ones that didn’t. Ones that were divorced, widowed, went off into the sunset, and everything in between. And I realized what made the good ones good and the bad ones bad: Effort. Emma, even soulmates are still human, and no matter what, humans will do as humans do. What will make us work or not work will be the effort we give to each other. And I like you, Emma. I like you a lot. I promise that if we try, I’ll work with you night and day to build a future and a life together.”

Suddenly, Emma felt a weight on her hand, very much like the one she felt hours ago when Killian first discovered their shared destiny.

“So can we at least try?” he finished.

Emma took in what he said. She took in everything – about him, about her, about her past, about his past, about the smell of cinnamon that permeated every bit of air that they breathed, and about their hearts. And in between it all, a fight ensued from within her. Pulses nervous and infatuous lunged for each other like two wrestlers in a championship.

Finally, when she was at last done taking things in, and one set of emotions finally overcame the other, she took one last cinnamon-filled deep breath and gave her answer.

“Okay. Let’s try.”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Emma ended up staying at Jones Farms for another three days. Together with Killian, they endured the remaining gusts and shocks of Hurricane Amelia and after it passed, began rebuilding the thankfully not-too-tattered parts of the farm side-by-side.

With every second that passed – through a greatly-needed nap following their heart-to-heart, a power outage, lots of conversations, and even another game of Monopoly – Emma felt herself feeling more comfortable with the idea of a soulmate, and thus, more in love with Killian as he showed her just the kind of soulmate he would be.

Killian had truly proven himself to be a man of his word, taking the initiative and bringing up uncomfortable subjects that Emma introduced that night such as how often they’d see each other and where they would live if things worked out.

When things worked out. That had been Emma’s push for herself. Because before the evening of their third day together, Emma had truly believed in a when for them.

And all throughout their days and nights, the rich aroma of cinnamon embraced her senses, only now, instead of queasiness that came from fears of the future, it brought on the same warmth one would get from a hearth, a symbol of the love she’d choose to let reside there in its place.

They would’ve continued, but dinner time had interrupted their bubble of isolation with something borderline unwelcome: A new client for Emma. Though she tried to give herself reasons to decline, the reality was that she couldn’t live on love alone.

Regardless of her decision, the idea was tempting.

But even Killian had supported the idea of returning to Storybrooke, and that all but solidified her answer.

“It’ll just go to prove what I already suspect,” he said. “We can overcome everything, especially a little separation.”

And so it was agreed, albeit reluctantly. Connections were made on every platform from their phones to their Facebook accounts and after a final connection in the bedroom, they were ready to leave each other.

Or as ready as they were ever going to be.

They stood in the front of Jones Farms – and Emma swore it was the spot where they’d first shook hands – as they said goodbye.

“I need to get back,” Emma moaned, more at herself than anyone else, especially Killian.

“I know,” Killian said, smiling sadly.

Emma found that it was so hard to pull away. There was a comfort with Killian, just like a spot of shade under an apple tree, and she didn’t want to lose it.

No. I won’t lose it.

“But I’ll be back soon,” she reminded both Killian and herself.

“And I’ll be waiting on bated breath until you do.”

Killian cupped Emma’s face and Emma leaned into the touch. Hardly another second passed before she closed the already small distance between their lips once more.

Like velcro being opened, Emma found it damn near impossible to separate from Killian, but it was done all the same, though their eyes stayed locked until Emma finally drove off and she was willing to bet that Killian’s remained on her for as long as her bug remained in view.

But despite that longing to be together once more and the pain that came with the wait until then, they relaxed, for they knew they’d be embracing the welcome smell of cinnamon soon.

[goodnightkisseu]

Kang Daniel - Secret

Requested By: Anon!~ ^^ ( “ Can you write a scenario where s/o and daniel are secretly dating from s/o's parents. lol idk if that make sense but love your scenearios 💕💕💕💕 ” )

Genre: Fluff

Note: I got this request a bit ago, but I finally was able to brainstorm a plot that I liked for it (with the help of @nothingwithoutwannaone​, thank you!) It’s a cute little fluff piece for Daniel because I know that one of his future pieces will be a bit heart-wrenching, so have some wonderful Daniel fluff in the meantime :D Feel free to let me know what you think. Enjoy~

[ Masterlist ] [ Upcoming Stories ]

- goodnightkisseu’s admin / ashley <3

A pair of lips gently danced on the skin at the nape of your neck. Kisses that were slow and lazy trailed their way down your shoulder before they started making their way down your back in a zigzag pattern. You knew that he wanted you to wake up. This was how he always woke you up when you somehow managed to sleep past when he woke up, but you weren’t quite ready to get up yet. You mewled softly, trying to indicate that you needed a little longer, but he wasn’t having any of it. His fingers deftly slid the strap of your tank top down your shoulder so that he could continue his kisses. Well, apparently, it was time to wake up.

“Daniel, it’s still so early…” you murmured, when his kisses got so aggressive that you knew that you wouldn’t be getting that extra hour of sleep you craved. You gently rolled over in his arms and were instantly greeted with the softest smile from your boyfriend. It was such a heartwarming smile, how were you supposed to stay mad at him? The answer was you couldn’t, and you never could even if you wanted to.

“It is… but I want more kisses,” he admitted, smiling like a child and chuckling when you obliged him with a peck on the lips. His demeanor shifted quickly after he got what he wanted, taking the chance to wrap his around your waist and pulling you in for another kiss. “I have to savor these, you know. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you don’t work in this town and you’ll be leaving me again for work tomorrow.”

You hummed softly, knowing that he was right. You had accepted a job at a rather well-known animation studio about four months ago. The new job was in a much bigger city and though the commute from your hometown to the studio was only two hours, it didn’t feel very effective to be making that commute every morning and night. It would be nicer to live a little closer so that you could maintain a good work to life balance. Granted, this did mean that you only got to see Daniel on weekends when you were home to visit family. It was a little hard, but the two of you were making it work. When you were back for the weekends you would either stay with your family or sometimes, at Daniel’s, like you did last night because you missed him so much. “It’s the closest studio, Daniel…”

“I know. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” he said as he gave you another kiss as an apology, leaning a little more into it this time to really show you that he meant it. “I just miss having you close by. It was so much easier when we were in college, you know? All of a sudden we became working adults and we’re living in completely different cities…”

You nodded, because you completely understood where he was coming from. The two of you practically saw each other every single day when you were still in school. You had a lot of the same classes, spent time working on your coursework after classes together, and were practically inseparable when you had free time. Now, it was different. Daniel stayed in your hometown to work at a local comic book publisher’s studio. You had to move to a bigger city because it was the closest one that was looking for a concept artist with your skill and style. It was unavoidable. It did make things hard sometimes too, mostly with the situation between Daniel and your parents.

“They called by the way, your parents,” Daniel said, seeming to have read your mind. He watched as your eyes widened, but in turn gave you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I told them that you were sleeping on my bed and that I had taken the couch. You didn’t really think I’d tell them what we were doing, did you?” he said, half as a joke, but you still rolled your eyes at him while letting out a sigh of relief. He knew that this was how the two of you had decided to go about your relationship, but truth be told, Daniel wasn’t the biggest fan of it.

You had been with Daniel for about a year and a half now… but his mother and your parents were none the wiser. It wasn’t because your parents didn’t like Daniel. It was actually quite the opposite. The two of you had been friends since you were kids and they adored him as if he were their own son. They loved having him around. The two of you had been so close growing up that Daniel practically grew up at your place while his mom was at work. Your parents loved that there was someone to look out for you and the fact that it was someone as kind and caring as Daniel was a bonus.

The thing was, there was one thing that, no matter how much your parents loved Daniel, they had a hard time overlooking. It had nothing to do him as a person. They praised him for how sweet he was, how, in comparison to you, he was level-headed. It had to do with the careers that you had both settled on for yourselves. You both had chosen to become artist. Honestly, there was nothing inherently wrong about this, but your parents had their concerns of you being with another artist. Unlike a steady office job, being an artist meant that you were either doing commissions or you were hired on via short contracts. Full-time positions were rare. They had voiced their concerns about how stressful it could be if you both happened to be working the same cycle, working at the same time, but also being unemployed at the same time. They worried about how difficult it would be for you financially. Though they had never said, ‘don’t date an artist’ they made it pretty clear that they would have reservations if you brought one home. And though you knew that they loved Daniel dearly, they might have had the same concerns with him.

That being said, though you understood where they were coming from, you also loved Daniel a lot. Before he had even asked you out, you knew how you felt about him, how much you cared for him and how much he cared about you. So when he finally told you how he felt, you couldn’t turn him down. Yet, you didn’t want to tell your parents either. The thought of them not being comfortable around Daniel after so many years was heartbreaking. And you knew at the time, with neither of you in secure jobs, they would have said something. You wanted to wait until the two of you had found consistent work, so that you could show your parents that two artists could make a living and that it wouldn’t be a struggle. After all, sometimes it was easier to show than tell.

The only problem was, now a year later, neither of you were very secure. You had a chance to move into a more full-time spot, but Daniel’s job was still contract to contract, which was definitely stressful. So, your relationship remained a secret until now, all because you didn’t want your parents reprimanding you or berating your best friend, now boyfriend. You had plans on telling them… just not yet.

Though you had to admit, it was getting harder not to tell them, to keep it a secret from them. Whenever you were both with your parents you’d have to pretend that you weren’t together. You’d have to joke around like you did when you were still just friends. It was hard at times and you were pretty sure you almost had a slip of the tongue more than once. It was rough.

To add on to all of this, you knew that Daniel hated it. He wanted to show your parents how much he loved you. He wanted to be comfortable with his affection. And, being the person he was, he also hated lying to them. You were sure that at one point he was going to break up with you, with how stressful this all got for him. Yet, here he was, waiting it out with you. How did you get so lucky?

“You have to leave me soon, don’t you…” he stated as he watched you roll out of bed, watching as your form moved around his room gathering your things.

“I do…” you said slowly, picking up a shirt that you had discarded last night and hanging it on the his desk chair as you headed back over to the bed, seating yourself next to him as you leaned over your handsome boyfriend. He brought up a hand to gently move your hair from your face and you couldn’t help but smile. “But, maybe before I head home to get my things, maybe we could go get breakfast like we used to on weekends? Then you can drop me off at the train station after I get my things? You suggested.

Daniel grinned at your suggestion, but instead of getting up to follow you, he swiftly pulled you back onto the bed with him, a small sound leaving your lips. “I’d like that a lot, but more kisses first,” he stated, leaning in for those kisses that he had been craving…

========

Daniel hadn’t quite expected events to play out in this way when he ran into your mother at the grocery store. He had greeted her like he always did, and upon seeing how much she had to get home, he offered her a hand. It was a common thing for Daniel to do. He was always helping your parents or his mother with the household chores and errands. And helping your mom today actually gave Daniel an in. He needed to tell them something important anyway, so this gave him the purpose ease in to do so. So, just want was he going to tell them?

He was going to disclose your relationship.

Truth be told, the last year and a half had been really hard for Daniel. He had hinted at it to you, but knowing how worried you were, he would often play off his want to tell your parents as a small thing. But truthfully, it wasn’t. He was having a harder time than he was letting on with hiding your relationship and with how the two of you had been progressing, it was getting to the point where he wasn’t comfortable keeping it a secret anymore. Though he never said it out loud, in his mind, he was already seeing the two of you married, but he couldn’t actually ask for your hand in marriage if your parents didn’t know you were even together. Normally he wouldn’t go behind your back, mostly not for something this big, but the lie was hard for him to uphold. He wanted to show how much he loved you, but he couldn’t and that… it was driving him mad.

Even so, after placing the groceries into the refrigerator for your mother, he was not expecting to turn around and be greeted by both of your parents. They were staring pretty intensely at him, and he had never felt so uncomfortable in your home. Something was up, and he knew it as soon as they started to ask questions. Oh boy…

“Daniel,” your mother started, “you know how much we adore you in this household. You’re practically like our son, so you have to be honest with us,” your mother said, using that tone she used to use when you and Daniel were still kids and you were reprimanded for doing something stupid.

Daniel didn’t reply right away, but he definitely felt trapped… and quite literally so. With his back to the refrigerator, he had no way out.

“Be honest, is our daughter dating someone?” your father asked.

Daniel took a moment to think about what he could do. He could just say you were and make up a lie that you were dating someone at your new studio, but honestly, that made him feel all sorts of weird on the inside. It was one thing to lie to your parents about your relationship. It was another to make one out of the blue. And it didn’t sit well with Daniel either. You were his girlfriend, not some random guy at work’s girlfriend. The fact that he even considered that upset him. Why was he even thinking up a lie? Just be honest.

“Sir, she is seeing someone,” Daniel admitted, but before he could say that he didn’t want to divulge about your life while you weren’t there, your father cut him off.

“Are you… dating our daughter?” he asked firmly. And this was when Daniel knew that he might not have been ready to do this without you. He wasn’t ready for this type of confrontation on his own.

Ah, what was he supposed to do? Part of him wanted to keep lying to them because it was what you wanted. He didn’t want to break your trust in him. But the other part of him just wanted to be honest to your parents for once. He wanted to say yes, he was dating you, but that they shouldn’t be so concerned about because he had just found a better job in the city. But he also knew you would be upset with him if he just made these decisions on his own. Yet, deep down, he knew he had to be honest. He didn’t like lying and he felt like he had been lying for long enough. It was time to come clean and if it messed up your relationship then… he would find a way to fix it. Somehow.

Relaxing now that he had a game plan, Daniel let out a heavy sigh. “Look, before I say anything, please don’t be upset with your daughter. She was really concerned about how you would feel so she wanted to keep it from you for a little bit longer –”

“For how long, Daniel?” your father asked, effectively cutting Daniel off mid-sentence.

The male sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, knowing that he now set the gears into motion. Shit, you were going to be so angry. “Ummm… for about a year and a half now?” he said slowly, watching as your mother and father shared a look. “But I love your daughter, I really do. I actually wanted to stop by to tell you guys some news actually…”

“We’re going to have to have a talk when she comes home next weekend…” your mother said before she proceeded to let Daniel tell them his news…

========

When you arrived home the following weekend, you couldn’t quite explain it, but something felt… different. It was a feeling that you had, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly why you had felt that way, because everything should have been normal. Daniel picked you up from the train station like he always did. He was sweet and affectionate like he usually was as he walked with you home for the usual Friday night family dinner. Everyone at home also seemed like their usual selves. So why did you feel so much apprehension when you got off the train that night? You had all but forgotten about it… until your mother brought out dessert that night.

“So, you’ve been dating Daniel for about a year and a half now,” your father said casually, almost making you choke on your water. Daniel gently reached over to try and soothe your coughing fit, but you were having a hard time calming down. When you finally did, you looked over at Daniel with wide eyes. How did they even know?!

“Sweetie, we’ve known for a long time. The two of you aren’t as good at hiding it as you’d like to think,” your mother said with a soft chuckle, your brain still trying to play catch up with all of this new information. “Plus, we checked with Daniel the other day, so you can stop pretending now.”

You then looked at Daniel who gave you that same sheepish smile he always had when he didn’t know what to say, and honestly you didn’t know how to feel. Part of you were pretty upset with him. You had asked him to keep this a secret for just a little longer. You wanted to show your parents that it was possible, but what would they think now? Yet, the other part of you knew that this had gone on for way too long. That you should have said something sooner. You had also realize that today, for the first time, Daniel seemed at ease at this dinner, and he hadn’t looked this way in a long time. You knew that your decision had been hard for him, even a little one-sided. Yet today, he looked happy, and you felt a bit bad for making him go through all of that. He had always had your best interests at heart and you should have known that from the beginning, no matter how your parents might feel.

“Y-yeah, we’re dating…” you finally said, feeling Daniel reach over for your hand under the table. You knew he was trying to reassure that it would be alright, and in this moment, you were glad that it was him sitting next to you and not some other guy.

“Sweetie, why didn’t you just tell us, was it so hard?” your mother asked.

All of a sudden you just felt so silly. You parents seemed to be taking it okay. So why were you so worried that they wouldn’t? Why did you think that things would erupt like a drama in your head? “I-I was worried. Look, you were both always so supportive of me going into the arts, but you never liked the idea of me dating an artist. It almost became a self-fulfilling prophecy that I ended up dating Daniel. I was worried you’d disapprove of him, no matter how much you both love him…”

Your dad chuckled lightly. “You know that we would never disapprove of Daniel. Sure, we think that the two of you could still hit a financial rough patch here and there, but it’s not enough to make us write off such a wonderful person who obviously makes you happy. If you make each other happy, be together. You don’t have to hide it.”

Your mother nodded. “Plus, I think Daniel has something to tell you…”

Your eyes shifted to Daniel who was giving you a meek smile. Whatever he wanted to say, he obviously did not think that your mother was going to turn it over to him like that. She always had a flair for the dramatic though. “You know that comic publisher that I always wanted to work for? I’ve been interviewing with them for the last month, and they finally offered me a position. It’s not a full-time position just yet, but it is a long time contract so I’ll be there for a while. And since it’s in the city, I’ll be moving there too. I start in a month!”

An overpowering feeling of shock and happiness overcame you as you jumped into Daniel’s arms, the made chuckling into your ear as he held you close. “I can’t believe you got it! I’m so proud of you!”

Laughter coming from your parents pulled you back into reality and you could feel yourself blushing now that the cat was out of the bag. It felt right though. It did leave one question unanswered, however… “Mom… Dad… how did you even know?” you finally asked.

“We always had an idea…” your mother told you.

“But when we saw you guys kissing on the porch a couple months ago, we thought it was time to bring it up,” your father continued, watching as the both of you turned a furious shade of red. “The two of you should have just told us. We found you both so cute together. So did his mother…”

“That’s really my fault. I should have been more honest…”

“You were just trying to be considerate of us, and we both appreciate it. But you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” your father said. “Though this does mean we need to set new ground rules. Like the fact that you guys can’t have sleepovers here anymore…”

Your eyes widened at your dad’s words and what they might have insinuated, and Daniel just laughed, holding your hand even tighter above the table. Though you had wanted to keep it a secret, you had to admit, you liked being able to love Daniel openly far more…