#i hope its working fine w the size limit and all

[thereigning-lorelai]

Please oh please share with us how you did the effect in your latest Nancy drew set, it is truly so gorgeous I cannot stop looking at it!

hi nonny, sorry this took a while. so you're looking for the effect from this post:

i made it fairly easy on myself for this one because i am lazy and impatient as hell, so hopefully this is a rather short tutorial.

there's a neater and tidier way to do this that would require frames instead of timeline but for the effect i was aiming for, the slightly sloppier and faster way actually worked fine.

preparation: you'll need a gif with the overlay effect that you like and want to use. i'm giving you the one i used for all the gifs in this set (just slightly altered for each individual gif):

then, of course, you need two gifs — one that'll be your base gif (the coloured one in my example) and one that'll "bleed into" the other one (the black and white one here).

base gif: i just did my regular preparation and colouring, added some yellow and red brush strokes here and there to add some colour and that was it.

i also added some text at this point and i positioned it on top of my base gif but underneath the overlay layers (because i wanted the text to vanish with the overlay):

second gif: i did a quick and very basic black and white colouring for this one.

for the overlay effect to work properly, i set the blending mode of this gif to multiply.

overlay: now the fun part. i added my overlay effect gif and changed its size and position to my liking and so that the important parts of my base gif were visible long enough (aka the kiss).

i set this layer to screen and clipped the b/w gif and the adjustment layers to it.

the thing is, as you can see, the overlay part is way too transparent to be efficient. you might get away with this if your base gif is dark enough but for the scene i wanted to use as a base it just didn't look right.

so i duplicated the overlay effect layer, dragged it underneath my original one, inverted it and set it to darken. et voilà, this worked wonders:

before saving, have a look at your timeline and whether everything lines up. you can change the starting point of your overlay effect (having it come in later or earlier) or your other gifs. whatever looks right to you and also fits into the size limitation.

and that's it. if something didn't make sense or you want to know anything else, just let me know. hope this helped, nonny. ♥️

[221bshrlocked]

That Southern Hospitality

Pairing: Clark Kent X Reader

Words: 8056 (wow this got out of hand)

Warnings: Awkward encounters. Flannel. Forearms. Smut. Dirty talk. Some kinks that might not apply to you including but not limited to hickies, size difference, age gap, flannel shirts, and finally, cum play (if that’s what it’s called). I’m on my period and I’m horny so leave me alone. 

A/N: Listen I’m not sure what happened here. I was minding my own business one minute and the next thing I know, I’m writing this hella long fic because men in plaid shirts are the death of me (Adam Driver in Blackkklansman) but Clark Kent in a plaid shirt/flannel can rip me to pieces and I’d ask him if he could do it again. I know I have other stories to get to and finish, but I got the inspiration and motivation to write this and I decided it was better than not writing any fics at all. Enjoy this hell that is Henry Cavill inspired. This will be up on AO3 with gifs :) Let me know if my smut is still any good.

Two exams, three research papers, and a shit ton of unnecessary assignments, and here you were doing the laundry because how else would you deal with the stress of this hellish semester. You angrily shoved your second batch of clothes into the washer, occasionally looking at the laptop not too far from you in an attempt to memorize any details of the human chest anatomy. As you measured the bleach and poured it in the washer, you forgot what it was you were reciting in your head, turning to the diagram again and repeating the function of the thymus gland for god knows what time that day. 

So busy with the laundry and making sure you don’t push your laptop over the table by accident, you didn’t notice when someone walked into the room until you stood up and grabbed your orange juice. As you were about to take a sip, you heard someone shuffle behind you before speaking.

“Do you mind if I-” The man didn’t get to finish his question, stepping back when he saw you jump in distress.

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, turning around and not watching where you were stepping as you tried to put space between the two of you. You fell to the floor, your heart hammering in fear before it beat against your chest in anger once you felt the sweet liquid spill all over your shirt. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-” The man stepped forward and held out his hand to pull you up, his eyes unintentionally descending to your soaking shirt.

“Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you? Trying to give me a heart attack or something?” You took his hand and let him pull you up, grabbing the bottle and its cap before throwing it in the trash. Wiping your face, you were about to say something when you looked up and saw who it was standing with you. Your eyes widened in horror because of course it was the quiet hottie two floors down that had to see you in this rather horrendous circumstance. 

“Believe me I thought you heard me when I walked in but I realized you were probably too invested in that diagram to notice me.” He pointed to your laptop, trying his hardest to avoid looking anywhere below your neck because he really didn’t want to get a boner in these sweatpants. 

“S-sorry about the mess, I’ll clean it up and give you some space.” You smiled nervously at him and were about to move towards the sink when he beat you to it and pulled out some paper towels before placing them on the floor. “Please, let me.” He looked up, his jaws clenching tightly when his eyes saw two hardened peaks teasing him through your wet shirt. He swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped the floor, knowing very well you caught him staring at your chest. When you did finally follow his gaze and looked down, embarrassment washed over you and you quickly crossed your arms to hide yourself. 

He stood up a moment later and reluctantly turned towards you before looking over to see if his laundry was done. When he saw the timer was down to zero, he blinked at your obvious nervousness, immediately unbuttoning his flannel and taking it off before stepping towards you. He could hear your elevated heart rate and felt bad for causing you so much discomfort. Whatever courage you had left was spent when you looked up at him, and boy did you wish you didn’t because you weren’t sure what was going to cause you to faint first, his cologne, the way his blue eyes dilated at seeing you, or how his chest expanded with each breath he took. 

“I am sorry miss. Here, take this so you could finish your laundry.” He held out his flannel to you and watched as you thought it over before reluctantly grabbing it. Who even looked that good in just a wife beater and some old sweatpants?

“W-what about your laundry?” You questioned him, walking towards one of the corners and hoping he wouldn’t turn around as you changed out of your shirt. You could hear him walk away, the sound of the washer unlocking letting you know he was thankfully a few feet away and couldn’t possibly hear your heartbeat. 

“It’s fine, you can keep that until you’re done.” He quickly took his clothes out of the washer and shoved them in his basket, deciding to fold them back in his place because he really didn’t know what he could do should he stay in the same room with you for another moment. By the time you turned around and grabbed your shirt to put it in the washer, he was just about done grabbing his clothes. And when he didn finally look at you, he lost whatever self control he had left, the handle of the basket breaking under his hold and causing you to blink at him. 

You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. He looked inconvenienced with his tense jaw and the harsh grasp he had on his basket. But he also had this aura of kindness around him, like a gentle giant kind of vibe. “Wow that’s one hell of a flannel collection you got there.” You cringed at the words as soon as they left your lips but he surprisingly didn’t laugh at you. On the contrary, his shoulders relaxed before he smiled at you.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said nothing else and you weren’t sure why his answer made your stomach churn. So he was a lumberjack basically. A sweet, muscular, introverted lumberjack who for some odd reason, lives in the city. 

“Thank you for this, it saved me going up four floors only to come back down again.” The flannel was long enough to be a dress and you nervously played with the long sleeves, not realizing that the more you touched the fabric, the harder he became in his sweatpants. 

“It’s no trouble, miss.” He was about to walk away when you stepped to him and grabbed his arm to stop him, goosebumps erupting on your skin when you realized just how muscular he is. You immediately took your hand away and waited until he met your eyes before speaking again.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.” 

“I’m Clark.” He smiled and you watched as his incredibly fine, round ass walked away from you. When you were sure he went up the stairs, you swore quiet loudly as you pulled your phone out to call a friend. You couldn’t care less about school work or how you were standing in a stranger’s flannel that smelled way too fucking good. All you cared about was squealing like a teenage girl about the cute neighbor who didn’t miss a beat and offered his clothes because you had to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him.

Unbeknownst to you, Clark could hear every single word you were saying about him, smiling at the prospect of someone your age gushing about him of all people, an average man who didn’t scream “friendly” to total strangers. Well, he wasn’t average but that didn’t matter. He folded his laundry and continued to eavesdrop on your call, not feeling an ounce of shame because you had so far called him “a greek god,” “a sexy farm boy,” and “a big softie.” Clark honestly wasn’t sure which of these was responsible for the raging hard-on he was suffering from and he didn’t really care because he could hear you compliment his scent to whoever you were on the phone with and he hated how vocal you were about your so-called “attraction” to him. 

By the time you were finished with the phone call, you’d lost all hope of retaining any new information about the human body. Then again, if it were up to you, you could have studied his body. For science of course. All the time you were switching out your clothes and absent-mindedly scrolling through your notes, you couldn’t help but bring the flannel up to your nose, taking in deep breaths and relaxing as his musky scent hit your nostrils.

“Fucking hell he smells good.” You whispered to yourself, feeling the sudden urge to reach down and scratch that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he walked in. And you really were about to do it, had it not been for the drier letting you know your clothes are clean.

So much for wanting to get some studying done. 

You collected your things and made your way up the stairs, halting at the second floor and looking at Clark’s door. It wasn’t that you were a stalker or anything. You just saw him a couple of times returning from work. Granted you’d stare at his ass for a few seconds but you didn’t purposely seek him out. You looked at your clothes and thought to just give him his flannel back but you immediately shook your head, ascending the stairs quickly before you changed your mind. 

Clark was writing a new article when he heard your steps slow down and stop at the top of the stairs. He slowly stood up and approached the door, looking past the wood and watching as you silently debated on something before you thought against it and ran up the stairs. He smiled to himself, knowing he was right and that you wouldn’t return his plaid shirt just yet. 

As soon as you got back to your apartment, you folded your clothes and paced around the empty living room. A heavy sigh made its way past your throat and you looked down at the shirt, wanting very much to relieve your stress but knowing there wasn’t time for that self-care session. You put the kettle on and decided to force yourself to get something done before the sun set. If you weren’t going to memorize that shit then you were certainly going to finish some of the other assignments. 

Surprisingly, you managed to finish one of the research papers by eight and you lounged on your couch and listened to some jazz music as you wrote the discussion responses and questions for your other classes. You were happy that you’d only had the two research papers and the exams to study for. Rubbing your eyes, you managed to shut your laptop before rolling on the couch, staring out your curtains before taking a deep breath. 

And that’s when it hit you.

It was such a stupid thought but for some reason, you genuinely believed you managed to finish all of this studying because of what you were wearing. You looked down at the shirt and pulled it to your nose for god knows what time that day, taking a deep breath before letting your mind wander to the little encounter from earlier. 

You’ve had several crushes before but never like this. Not ones that made you feel peaceful at least. Maybe after this semester was over, you’d muster up the courage to ask him out. But what if he had someone already? How awkward would that be? Surely someone with his manners and looks had a girlfriend, a boyfriend even. 

You didn’t dwell on that for too long, not wanting to grow sad at the prospect of missing your chances with a guy like him. You let your thoughts run over until you fell asleep, not realizing that Clark was also having a hard time riding his mind of you. 

You hoped you could run into him again to avoid the awkward encounter of knocking on his door and giving him his shirt but that never happened. Somehow, you couldn’t get a sight of him for the rest of the week, which was strange considering how often you managed to get a glimpse of the man. And you noticed you’d started to stress out again when you realized his scent grew incredibly weak, the flannel no longer bringing you peace of mind as it has for the past few days. 

There were only five days left and even though you had turned in all your research papers and taken one exam (and miraculously passed it), you still felt like shit. Five days to study for an exam should have been a Christmas gift compared to some of the schedules you had to deal with for the past two years, but you didn’t feel like studying and you hated that you knew what was keeping you from focusing. 

You distracted yourself with numerous things, buying unnecessary clothes and accessories online and even calling your friend and asking her what show you could binge watch next.

“Fuck this shit,” you threw your pillow across the room and grabbed your phone, ordering some take out before pulling up all of your human anatomy notes in an attempt to study again. You looked around your apartment and saw the plaid shirt on the other end of the couch, rolling your eyes at the sudden need to wear it because if that meant you could focus even for a few minutes, you were definitely going to put it on. 

A few minutes passed and you were still on the same diagram, swearing out loud when you heard the doorbell ring. 

“Well that was quick,” you grabbed a five dollar bill to tip the driver, unlocking the door and pulling it harder than intended. 

And then you forgot how to breathe for a second because shit shit shit Clark was standing in front of you and you were wearing his shirt and he was looking you up and down and fuck this was not okay. You silently cursed yourself because he was definitely going to think you were weird for wearing it when you had your own damn clothes. 

“Hey,” was the only thing Clark managed to say because his neurons decided to misfire and not form a proper sentence. Goddamn his clothes looked so much better on you.

“H-hi.” 

Clark cleared his throat and pretended he wasn’t gawking at you, holding out a few letters and waiting until you took them before he said anything else. 

“These were in my box by accident. Sorry about that. I think a few of them might be late, I haven’t been here all week.” You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he pushed up his glasses and finally looked at you. 

“Oh, thank you. Was it vacation week or something?” Of all the things you could have asked to not sound pathetically desperate, that should have been the last of them. 

“Far from it, I was on an assignment and I had to go to Gotham to interview some businessman for the Daily Planet. Just got back.” He fixed the strap of his bag before shoving his hands in his pockets and such a simple gesture shouldn’t have made you drool but here you were. 

“You’re a reporter?” Somehow, that made sense but it was weird to see someone who grew up on a farm come to the city and take the oddest job. 

“Yeah.”

“That sounds nice.” You didn’t know what else to say, awkwardly shifting on your feet and hoping he’d continue the conversation for your sake. 

“It is most of the time, but then you have to sit down with eccentric billionaires and then it’s not so fun anymore.” Clark remarked and he was struck with a soft chuckle that almost made him lose his balance. 

“Let me guess, the infamous Bruce Wayne wasn’t as charming as everyone says he is.” You took a step forward and leaned against the door frame, noticing the way Clark stepped closer to you as well. 

“How did you know?” Clark said with a hint of sarcasm and you shook your head before looking past him and silently cursing when you saw the delivery guy approaching you.

“I’ve got an order for Y/N.” The young man took one look at Clark before he knew it was best for him to just deliver the food and leave. 

“Here, thank you so much.” You handed him the tip and smiled when he waved back at you.

“I’ll leave you to eat then,” Clark was about to walk away when you reached out and stopped him.

“Or you could come in? I ordered way too much food anyway.” You hoped you weren’t being too forward with him and let out a breath when he turned around and faced you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” 

“You’re not.” You said way too quickly to your liking but knew it was worth it when he sent you that dashing smile again. He walked in and set his bag down before following you to the living room. 

“Make yourself at home,” you set down the food on the table in front of the couch before walking to the kitchen to grab a few plates and some drinks. When you walked back and handed him the beer to open until you brought out all the food, he raised an eyebrow at you and asked the question he’d been wanting to ask ever since he saw you.

“Are you old enough to be drinking this?” He asked jokingly and hoped you didn’t find his question too weird.

“Hey hey I’ll have you know I am not as young as I look.” You playfully raised your voice and watched as he held his hands up in defeat.

“Just want to make sure I’m not breaking the law or anything.” 

“I’m about to turn 23 so relax.” You sat down next to him, shoving the laptop to the side and grabbing the beer from his hand before rolling your eyes at him.

“So you are as young as you look then!” Clark hoped his tone still held some playfulness because he didn’t want you to know how turned on he was because of the age gap. Not that he expected anything. 

“I’m old enough…” You let the words hang in the air, pretending you were focusing on splitting the food evenly between the two of you. Clark narrowed his eyes at you before shifting them towards the bit of skin peaking through the buttons of his shirt. 

Fuck, his shirt. 

“Thanks for this, I definitely wouldn’t have bothered to cook for myself tonight.” He broke the silence, trying to think of anything but you wearing that shirt around the apartment. And he really didn’t want to picture you going to sleep in it. 

“Of course, I gotta return a bit of that southern hospitality after all.” You took a bite of the food and were about to say something when he beat you to it.

“And here I was thinking you could have just returned the shirt.” Of all the things you thought he was going to say, that was definitely not one of them because as far as you knew, he was not a confrontational man.

“I- uhhh, I was going t-”

“Relax sweetheart, I’m just teasing.” You almost choked on the food when he winked at you and you hoped to the almighty he wasn’t just pulling your leg. If your friend was here, she would have probably told you to play hard to get. But you were tired, and you didn’t think Clark was the kind of guy to enjoy that. He was older than you after all and he probably didn’t enjoy that childish behavior.

“Honestly, your shirt managed to help me with my stress.” When he said nothing and continued to stare at you, you decided you should probably apologize. “Sorry that sounded weird. Here I am being super creepy when you were just being nice. Probably don’t need this drama anyway.” You moved to get up and were about to head toward your room when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back down. 

“Don’t. You’re being honest. It’s a breath of fresh air actually.” You weren’t sure what made your heart race, the way he was looking at you or the warm fingers he had still wrapped around your wrist. You smiled all the same, nodding awkwardly before reaching for your laptop. You touched the mouse bar so the screen didn’t sleep and turned your attention to Clark again.

“Still studying the anatomy?” Clark pointed to the screen, finishing up his food and thanking you for it before standing up to throw away the empty boxes.

“I actually stopped studying for it this past week. Had other more important assignments and exams to finish. You sure you don’t want any more?” You closed the two other boxes and followed him to the kitchen, placing the boxes in the fridge before grabbing the plates and forks to place in the sink.

“I’m good thank you. When is this exam then?” He stood at the sink and folded his sleeves, the action not going unnoticed by you. When you looked up and saw that he was staring at you, you cleared your throat and went to the table to clean the rest of the things. 

“It’s in five days and I really couldn’t care less because if I have to memorize one more fucking muscle, I’m going to lose my shit.” Clearing away everything, you washed your hands as well and followed him back to the couch, pretending you weren’t checking out his thighs that were currently spread out across his seat. Fuck he looked good.

“Maybe I can help with that.” Clark said before he could think twice about the bizarre idea

“How? Do you secretly know Professor Stevens and could talk to him for me so I don’t have to take the exam?” You jokingly asked, scrolling through the powerpoint to try and see which group you had to study next. When you didn’t hear a response and looked up, you saw Clark staring at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite understand. 

“I sadly don’t know Professor Stevens, but I’ve heard that it’s easier to study these things when you have a real life example to map out.” There wasn’t an inch of hesitance in his words and Clark was finding it very hard to keep a straight face when you looked so flustered. 

“Is this where you tell me you’re secretly a serial killer and I’m about to become one of your cadevers?” You tried to diffuse the sudden tension growing between you two but Clark never once dropped his gaze, setting his beer down on the table before standing up and rolling down his sleeves.

“No, but I am a willing participant and I will gladly be your example.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, pulling his blue and green plaid shirt out of his jeans before unbuttoning the front, all the while making sure you never looked away. 

By the time he was finished, you could feel how soaked your panties were and you hoped he didn’t notice you shift in your seat. When he smiled, you knew he did.

“Oh,” you whispered when he opened his shirt and took it off, leaving him in the wife beater and tight, dark jeans. You took a deep breath to try and relax your mind but then he pulled the white material out of his jeans in one swift move and you were left staring at his incredibly muscular, slightly hairy chest that had you wanting to jump his bones right away. 

He sat down again, this time much closer to you. You cleared your throat before turning to your laptop and scrolling to the diagram about the bones, looking it over before facing Clark again and silently asking him if you could move closer. When he raised an eyebrow and nodded at you, you cleared your throat before taking his arm and pulling it on your lap. 

You should’ve known it would be heavy considering how muscular he was but nothing prepared you for how soft his arm would be, even with all the hair. This was not the time to be horny and yet here you were, wanting to do something else with his fingers. 

Softly, you took his hand and rested it on your lap, tracing his fingers as you called out the different bones on the limb. “Phalanges…metacarpals…c-carpals.” You spent a little bit longer on his wrist, turning it up before softly passing over the veins of his arms. When you realized you weren’t actually moving over the bones, you blinked rapidly before continuing to his arm. His arm was now rating completely on your lap and although his hand was facing the ceiling, you couldn’t help but feel like he was purposely making sure he was touching the skin of your thighs. 

Dismissing the wild thought, you applied pressure with one hand on his ulna while the other passed over the hair of his arm and mirrored your actions but on his radius. When you looked up, you saw Clark’s piercing blue eyes staring into yours, not bothering to hide his obvious fascination with your lips before looking down to where you were touching him. You swallowed the lump in your throat before moving your hand to the humerus, not bothering to linger on his arm because you knew very well which bones that was. 

Before you could convince yourself not to, you decided the hell with being appropriate, hands continuing their journey up to his shoulders before lingering over the clavicle, finding it incredibly sexy because it was protruding. And when your other hand moved to his chest and splayed across the center, you made sure to never look away from his suddenly dilated pupils, pushing on the hard center and whispering “sternum.”

“You’re doing pretty well darling…don’t know why you’re worried about this exam.” Clark’s jaw was tense and you knew he was as affected by you as you were by him. 

“I’m more worried about muscle groups if I’m being honest.” You replied breathlessly, not expecting him to reach over and pull you on his lap. You gasped before settling down on him, not bothering to be sly when you moved your hips and found him hard beneath you.

“Get up close and personal Y/N, I don’t mind.” Clark smiled when you grabbed his arm and brought it close to you again, tracing the forearm and whispering the muscles as you touched each of them. “Flexor carpi ulnaris…E-extensor carpi radialis longus…ah fuck.” You couldn’t take it anymore, swearing when you felt his other hand grasp your thighs and squeeze them. 

“Focus,” he dared to warn you, chuckling when you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. 

You continued to move your fingers on his arm, no longer shying away from feeling him up a bit more. As soon as you reached his biceps and named the muscle, Clark was flexing beneath you, the small reflex turning you on way more than it should have. You lingered on his biceps a bit more than you should have and Clark noticed, the fingers of the arm you were studying wrapping around your upper arm before jerking you in his arms.

“I said focus.” His tone was dangerous and you couldn’t help the little drag you took across his thighs. Clark looked down at you before raising his eyebrows, his chest expanding with pride because your self-control was slipping just as his.

“D-deltoid,” you passed over his shoulders before finally reaching where you’ve wanted to touch him for so long. As soon as you placed both of your hands over his chest and whispered “pectoralis,” Clark was wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him, lips crashing against yours so aggressively you almost thought you broke your teeth. He was hungry to touch you, his arms not letting up once as he devoured your mouth. When you tried to pull away to breathe, Clark moaned against you, fingers pushing the back of your head towards him so he could suck on your tongue. 

A few seconds later, he finally realized the two of you needed to breathe, letting go before continuing his attack down your neck. You found yourself pushing your body to him, sighing and moaning when you felt his teeth nip and suck on whatever skin he had access to.

“Jesus fucking Christ, do you have…any idea, how sexy you look in my shirt?” He paused in between words to kiss your neck before deciding he wanted your mouth again. You didn’t have much choice, giving yourself over to him and not bothering to attempt to have any control of the man beneath you. To say you were surprised by how needy and bold he suddenly was would have been the understatement of the century. 

“God damn baby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you last week. Not when you looked so embarrassed with these pretty tits begging me to get an eyeful of’em.” He leaned down and bit you through the shirt, not caring how ridiculous he probably looked. 

“Ohh Clark…please.” You weren’t sure what it was you were begging him for and you couldn’t care less.

“What do you want darling? I’ll give you anything you want. You’ve been such a good little sweetheart, wearin’ my shirt all week long. Were you Y/N?” You didn’t realize he was asking a question until he pulled away and lightly smacked your ass, begging you to answer him.

“Wh-what?”

“I asked, were you wearin’ my shirt all week?” 

“Oh god fuck, yes. Yes I was.” You tried to get out of his grasp to touch him but he didn’t let you, teh vice grip he had around your waist letting you know he wasn’t planning on letting up anytime soon.

“Such a pretty darling. Tell me Y/N, why didn’t you give it to me when you were done?” Before you could answer him, Clark was maneuvering you around, and for some reason, you were still surprised by the sheer power this man had because he handled you as if you weighed nothing. You found yourself buried under the hunk of flesh, and although you should have felt somewhat claustrophobic, you didn’t. On the contrary, you felt safe surrounded by him.

“I- it’s going to sound stupid.” You tried to distract him because you were afraid he’d think you were weird. 

“Please, baby. Tell me.” The man cooed in your ears and you were amazed by how soft he was being when a moment ago, he was just about ready to devour you.

“Y-you smell nice…your cologne, it helped me get work done. A-and I slept better when I wore it. Made me feel safe.” You couldn’t look at him, not wanting to drive him away by your obsession. You did only meet a week ago. 

You took his silence for disgust and were about to push him away when he crushed you with his weight, stopping all thoughts of wanting to get away from him.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re going to be the death of me.” As soon as you looked into his eyes, Clark was pushing you further into the couch, his lips savoring every inch of your own, biting and engulfing them like a madman.

“Shouldn’t have gone to Gotham. Should’ve stayed here and tried to ask you out.” He was babbling nonsense, taking both of your hands in his and raising him high above your head. 

“Oh god Clark…”

“Have dinner with me baby?”

“Yes anything. I’ll do anything you want me to do…j-just don’t stop. Please don’t stah-ahh,” you screamed in surprise when you heard buttons clattering across the floor, looking down at the ruined shirt before attempting to focus on Clark.

He was smiling devilishly at you, maintaining eye contact as he ripped the rest of the shirt before giving your newly exposed skin some attention. The man somehow was becoming sexier by the second and you had a feeling tonight would be a night you’d never forget.

He kissed up your stomach, licking the valley between your breasts before winking at you. Before you could beg him to not do the same with your bra, he was already ripping it in half, not bothering with your little whines as he attacked your nipples. You were a moaning mess beneath him, his name like a prayer on your lips as he sucked and bit and pinched your hardened peaks. 

Clark continued his assault on you, not caring that you were shaking in his arms at this point. You were torn between looking down at him and throwing your head back to enjoy the sensations coursing through you. He moaned and growled as he sucked and pinched your nipples harder, occasionally jutting his hips and showing you just how much he wanted to have you.

It was so little, crept up on you without you noticing. Almost as if it was forced out of you. At a particular thrust of his hips, you were arching your back and pushing your breasts into his face, swearing and screaming his name until he slowly eased you down from your little high.

“Did…did you just-” Clark didn’t move a muscle, his cock finally catching up with his brain because did he just make you come without even touching your pussy?

“C-clark.” You sighed his name, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes when you suddenly realized what just happened. 

Before you could attempt an apology at how pathetic your body was, Clark was sitting up and trying to take his pants off. When you saw him fumbling through the simplest of tasks, you felt heated and proud to have made this man a mess, unbuckling his belt and throwing it away before pushing down the zipper and trying to kick his pants down. He barely managed to take off his shoes and socks, marveling at how soft and warm your hands were against his skin as you dragged his jeans down his legs. 

“I need you, please. I need you inside me Clark. Now.” You begged insistently, no longer bothered by how needy this man made you. He nodded frantically and was about to pull down his boxer briefs when he remembered something. You watched him look around for something, furrowing your eyebrows at him before you realized what it was he wanted. “On the pill.” You half-yelled at him, not wanting to waste anymore time because you were so close to finally having him. He nodded at you and quickly got rid of his boxers, standing up and watching as your facial expression hardened and fear washed over your skin. 

“Oh fuck,” you swore louder than you intended, eyes shifting from his leaking cock to his face. How the hell were you going to fit that in you?

“Shit, baby don’t look at me like that. W-we can stop. I could just-” Clark tried to slow down, not wanting to hurt or even scare you in any way. 

“You kidding me? I’ve only been thinking about you fucking me senseless ever since I saw you. You’ll fit, it’ll be tight but y-you’ll fit. Just- just be gentle…go slow.” Your words slowed down as you became less and less positive that he was, in fact, going to fit his cock inside you and you watched as it twitched between his legs with every comment you said. 

“Fuck, don’t say things like that darling.” Clark was slowly losing himself in you, but he really didn’t want to let that affect him in any other way. He leaned down slowly, pulling you up until you were standing on one foot before turning you around in his arms and laying back on the couch with you on top of him. 

“Come here Y/N.” He whispered in your ears, wanting to feel your weight on top of him to remind him of how fragile you were in his arms. 

“Clark, I-” You turned your head to try and look at him, shutting your eyes when you felt his hands roaming your body. 

“Shhh sweetheart I got you. I’ll go slow, won’t even hurt you. But you have to promise that, ah fuck, i-if you do feel like you can’t do this, tell me. Don’t wanna lose you Y/N.” You weren’t sure what made you shudder, how kind he was even when he was painfully hard, or how he was making sure to let you know this wasn't just sex for him.

You nodded against him, spreading your legs across his thighs and looking down to see where his hands stopped. He made small circles around the outer lips of your pussy, groaning in your ears when he felt how wet and hot you were for him.

“Ready for me?” Clark reluctantly asked, waiting until you hummed your approval before grabbing his cock and inching the leaking tip into your pussy. He stopped moving when he felt you throw your head back against him, about to ask you if it was too much when you grabbed his hand and moved it towards your center, where you were joined. 

“F-fuck ahh Clark, y-you can keep going.” You barely managed to say to him, focusing on your lower muscles and trying to loosen up a bit to get used to him. Clark on the other hand was having a hard time, in more ways than one, trying to not shove his dick all the way inside of you. But when he heard your little plea, he couldn’t deny you anything, thrusting up into you and waiting until you adjusted to him stretching you out before moving again.

Within minutes, you were a mess above him, repeating his name over and over as you felt his cock reach so deep inside you while his hand circled around your clit.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re so tight. So warm and tight…such a good darling aren’t you?” He whispered words of encouragement in your ears, continuing to slowly buck his hips up into you as his hands touched your skin. 

“Clark, you feel so good…stretching me out like no one else. I- oh god ohh my god yes right there, I’ve never had big cock like you before.” You were sure he was going to split you in half and the thought of him destroying you made you even wetter. You could hear him pushing in and out of you, your juices letting him slide in easier than a few minutes before.

“Yeah baby just like that, keep taking my cock. You’re so good to me darling…made for me. Could spend hours inside you Y/N, if you only let me.” Clark kissed your shoulders before biting and sucking red marks across your neck, wanting to touch you anywhere he could reach. 

You finally managed to turn your head around enough to look at him, forcing your eyes to open and gasping when you could barely make out the blue of his orbs. You leaned down and kissed him, holding onto the hand snaked around your thighs and pleasuring you before you felt a different kind of heat spread inside you. 

Clark came with a growl, holding you down to him as he continued to fuck you. You fisted your hands around the couch, shaking in his arms when you felt him harden even more inside you. 

“Clark, you…did you-”

“Please baby, can I keep fucking you? Please, you feel like heaven.” You were sure you died and went to a different reality because this man did not have a refractory period and was probably going to be the death of you.

“Yes, fuck, yes okay just- I need to look at you, touch you, move with you.”

“Shit yeah alright I can do that, let me.” Clark slowly sat up, pulling you off of him and wincing when the cold air hit his skin. He didn’t give you a chance to get used to being empty, immediately pulling you onto his lap and lowering you down on his still hard cock before leaning up to kiss you. You hissed at the stretch again, distracting yourself with his lips and the flexing muscles beneath your hands to not think of how deep he was reaching inside of you.

Supporting your weight on him, you started riding him at a slightly quicker pace, wanting to come on his cock just once before he continued to use you to get off. 

“Come on Y/N, want to feel this pretty little cunt come ‘round me. Please darling, will you give me that? Will you come around me? So..f-fucking good,” Clark reached around and grabbed your ass, finding it incredibly sexy that you were scratching his chest to release some of that tension you felt from having him stretch you out.

Hearing him begging you to come around him was probably what had done it.. Or perhaps it was the way his muscles rippled beneath you each time you sought out his skin for support. It didn’t matter in the end because Clark fucked you through your orgasm, whispering nonsensical things in your ears and waiting until you returned to your senses before he asked you a question.

He remained motionless to not distract you, pulling you to his chest to kiss you again before nuding you to answer him.

“Let’s move this to the bedroom?” Clark asked, perhaps the third or fourth time, chuckling against you when you just nodded and wrapped your limbs around him. He carefully stood up, refusing to pull out while trying to not hurt you and push in any further. You didn’t show any sign of discomfort when he stood to his full height, slowly walking around the table towards the only hallway in the apartment. 

When he did get to your room, he wrapped his arms around your back and made sure to lay down on the bed without breaking the hazy spell you were under. When he was sure you were comfortable, he supported his weight on his arms and pulled away from your neck to get a better look at you. 

He found you smiling and staring back at him, hands moving his sweaty hair away from his handsome face while the other one still held onto his arms. 

“Clark.” The way you said his name twisted something in his stomach and he knew that he couldn’t possibly go on without telling you his secret. He didn’t want to risk putting your life in danger, but something told him you’d be willing to take that chance for him. At least he hoped he was worth it to you.

“Y/N, I-”

“Please, move…let me make you feel good baby.” You cut him off, knowing he was probably trying to say something that didn’t need to be addressed anytime soon.

And my god, when he did start thrusting into you again, it was like you found the answer to a question you never knew you had. He was so gentle, kissing you everywhere and smiling when he saw the dazed expression aimed at him. He continued to whisper sweet things in your ear, occasionally pinching your nipples or rubbing your clit with his navel. 

You arched your back against him, feeling the familiar tug in your lower stomach but wanting to wait until he came with you. You could tell Clark was chasing after his orgasm because his grunts grew louder and his rhythm faltered. His arms moved from caging you in to grabbing your neck and pushing you up to him so he could kiss you. In the end, it was his neediness that pushed you over the edge, crying out his name as you felt him thrust into you one, two, three times before you felt the familiar heat fill your insides.

Had you had one functioning neuron, you would have marveled at how much more he came the second time around. But you didn’t.

The both of you stayed wrapped around each other until Clark realized that should he stay inside you any longer, he would probably go for round three, and the last thing he wanted was to freak you out by how long he could go. 

When he finally forced himself to pull out, he swore under his breath at the sight of his cum leaking out of you and before he could stop himself, he was pushing his cum back into your cunt, smirking with pride when your legs shook and you winced at the thick fingers pushing in and out of you.

Clark, however, was surprised when he didn pull his fingers out and watched as you grabbed his wrist and pulled the two digits into your mouth, never losing eye contact as you licked and sucked his fingers till they were clean.

“You’re going to be the death of me Y/N.” Clark smiled before falling to the side and wrapping his arms around you. You sighed happily, looking up at him as you traced shapes around his chest. 

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Clark asked to make sure you weren’t feeling any discomfort. 

“Pretty sure I won’t be able to walk for the next few days but fuck me it was worth it.”

“Careful what you wish for Y/N.” Clark warned and you laughed against him before you snuggled into his embrace. 

A few minutes passed in silence before you realized you needed to ask him what’s been on your mind ever since he walked into your apartment.

“You aren’t put off by my age are you?” Clark looked quizzically at you before pushing up to his elbows, making sure you knew he was giving you his undivided attention. You continued to play with his chest hair, refusing to look at him when you elaborated. “I just know that…well, sometimes, older guys don’t take younger girls too seriously and..what I wanted to tell you was-”

“This wasn’t just sex to me Y/N. I want to go on dates with you. I want to take you out to galas we have at work. I want to help you out when you’re too stressed or when you need to vent about something. I want to be here with you. If anything, I feel like you deserve someone your age.” Clark combed back your hair, taking the hand on his chest and bringing it to his lips before kissing it over and over again.

“I don’t think I can find anyone my age that’ll make me feel as safe as you make me.” Clark would never get used to hearing you admit you feel safe with him. It did something to him knowing you weren’t one to shy away from vocalizing your thoughts and emotions. 

“You mean you won’t find a guy who’ll let you steal his shirts and walk around with them.” You punched his chest and allowed yourself to breathe again because now that you got this off your chest, you could be sort of normal again. 

Clark was about to say something when he felt you trace his skin again, the hairs on his arms feeling standing up at your obvious attraction to him. He wasn’t a vain man, far from it, but he felt happy that you were pleased with him. 

“Don’t tempt me sweetheart.”

“What? I’m just reviewing for the exam. You don’t want me to fail do you?” You asked playfully, hoping to god he didn’t feel weird by how much you wanted to touch him.

“By all means, review.” Clark laid his head over his arms, flexing the muscles you were currently “studying” before looking down and raising an eyebrow at you. “But I’m not responsible for what’s to follow.”

“Is that a promise or a warning?”

In the blink of an eye, Clark was shoving himself between your legs, shamelessly rolling his hips against your wet core and not caring that you probably needed some rest before you went for it again.

“It’s just my southern hospitality darling.”

[nunyo-bizznez]

You can like the fictionalized version of a non fiction person btw. Even if the real life personhood of that character you like was and awful person! And it doesn't mean you endorse the real life actions of the real life person!

Hell, you can even be invested in the real world accounts of that real world person and the non-fiction evil shit they did! Sometimes it fascinating stuff, even if its awful! Sometimes trainwrecks are very watchable!

And as long as you can live in reality, separate fact from fiction, and think critically about what your reading/watching, being mindful that the person(s) contained in the work was a (sometimes deeply and evily) troubled person, you're probably gonna be fine :)

Its also fine to see the non-fictionalized version of the less-than-good (maybe truly despicable) person and say , "hey, this guy fucking sucks and I'm enraged and disgusted to know of him!" And turn away from that work completely! That is also fine! Everyone has limits! Feel free not to engage with the media that portrays hateful people! Protect yourself :)

What's weird to me it to see a fictionalized account of a 'problematic' person and get mad that its fictionalized. If it was supposed to be an autobiographical work, it would have been labeled as such (i would hope). Its even weirder to me to get mad at people for enjoying the fictionalized version of the real person (who was terrible). Like, yeah, I do get it. A lot of people are morons who get all fuckin weird about the fiction version of the Bastard, but most people are reasonably intelligent. Block the people who can't interact with or interpret media in a healthy way and try to move on. Its the only thing to do, really. No amount of discourse will stop the people who extrapolate the fictional person onto the real person from being fuckin weird about it, sadly.

I just feel like we all should've learned this lesson with Hamilton. Were there fuckin weirdos who projected their understanding of Musical Alexander Hamilton onto the the flesh-and-blood, flawed human man who has an actual physical grave you can go to? Oh fuck yeah, and I didn't like them anymore than you did. But they were a vocal minority then, and while they may be what you most remember about the Hamilton fandom now, they were still not the only component to that fandom.

Was the musical Hamilton about some fucked up real people? I would argue no: it was about the fictionalized version of real people. I dont believe that Hamilton was meant to be a replacement for a genuine historical educational supplement. I dont think lin manuel Miranda set out to make the New Best Ever Biography of Alexander Hamilton. I think he was trying to make a musical. Its a genre that, by necessity, breaks down even very dark and complicated themes and narratives and historical events into something bite-sized, digestible, and catchy as hell. Its not historically a genre that sets out to make in depth, complex, true-life depictions of anything. There are exceptions, but its not the norm. But was Alexander Hamilton a fucked up person? Yea. Obviously. It would've sucked to know him. Movers and shakers of history aren't typically easy to love.

Julius Caesar was a deadbeat dad, a neglectful husband, and a war criminal (!!!). Hes still fascinating to learn about, and compelling to watch fictionalized versions of. Im always eager to see how a piece of media will depict him. Someone's understanding of Caesar, what Caesar, as a symbol, means to a creator is just as fascinating as the real (and terrible) man. If I ever met the man in public I would attack him. It would be good praxis. I really truly hate that genocidal maniac and bossy bottom, and even 2 thousand years later, I do hate the man. Still eat up anything with him in it, though. Inherently compelling son of a bitch.

Edward "Blackbeard" Teach was a pirate. That job description should be everything one needs to know about what kind of person he was. Not good, in summary. Pirates were historically awful people who did unthinkably cruel shit, and they did it for money. Pirates were secondary villains in a time where the primary villains, mercantile colonialists who'd fuck over any person possible for the promise of money, ruled the narrative. The age of sail is the story of the 2 kinds of greedy motherfuckers stealing from and exploiting everything and everyone, and then repeatedly stealing their ill-gotten gains from eachother. All while pretending they were they themselves were heroes and their competitors were the real villains. Historically, there aren't heroes in stories with pirates in them.

I don't think anyone reasonable is enjoying our flag means death and using it as a historical textbook. I'm sure some weirdos are doing it, because humanity is frequently disappointing. But I'm also sure that most people are enjoying the fictionalized version of historical people to tell a certain story, more than anything.

If you aren't the type of person that can set aside reality from your ability to enjoy the fictionalized version of reality, please just dont interact with it and live your life. Please don't seek things out to be mad on purpose. I know its the internet. I know a lot of folks on here are just in a race to be the maddest, rudest, and funniest faceless person online. First one to be witty and unhappy in equal measure wins internet clout, for whatever that's worth. But maybe just take a break? Maybe don't dive head first into something you hate and immerse yourself in it so you can be angry on purpose? This can't be good for you, for any of us. There are so many good reasons to be angry in this life, why waste all the effort it takes to be angry at things unworthy of your ire? Is it improving your life? Please, just be good to yourself. Just be as kind to people as you can stand, or just leave well enough alone. Just please try to enjoy life, instead of finding more reasons to be miserable. This is just another way people waste their meaningful energy of meaningless things. I know there's catharsis and community in being upset about the same thing as someone else. But I also know those communities are built on no love, and that such catharsis is fleeting. Its a sticky trap to get caught in, hating things for fun.

Anyway, this is a long post no one will read. And many people who read it won't read it all the way through, anyway. I made it for me, really. And the reading comprehensive efforts of the denizens of the internet is well proven. Not trying to *change hearts and minds* or whatever. Just taking a long and steady exhale.

Also, sorry for the way I talk. I've read too many leather-bound books.

[zelkams-art]

#ShowYourProcess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

I was tagged by @milkcrates​, who showed her process of making this gorgeous piece with Wei Wuxian and little A-Yuan!! It was awesome to see how it came to life - and thank you for tagging me! ✨

So I got tagged to show how this Yunmeng brothers + golden core art happened! I already included the digital sketch for it in my sketch vs final compilation, but I guess I can show some more!

This is gonna be long because I like talking a lot, so putting the rest under a cut!

1. Planning

SO.  A golden core pic was on my to-draw list as soon as I finished watching the show. I had a WIP of a different pic for that waiting, but actually I noticed that a very similar thing has already been drawn, so that was kinda dropped. But I’m glad I waited until the idea for this one slapped me! It was pretty much a moment of “w a i t a second” and I had to grab a random piece of paper to sketch it while I still had it in my head.

This is the sketch - as you can see from the coffee stains, it has been through some stuff. On the left I actually tried out some different ideas for the golden core - the 1st one was the winner and led to the whole leaking/water/rain theme. I ended up mirroring the whole sketch because I didn’t want Wei Wuxian’s hand to cover Jiang Cheng’s front hair wisp, as that would make that area too crowded.

Meta-wise: I wanted to show that the whole thing was kept as a secret from Jiang Cheng. But we also knew about it - so Wei Wuxian is breaking the 4th wall and looking at us [the audience] directly, shushing to keep it a secret as well. Then there’s his hand hovering over the blindfold - it was included in the show, but also sprinkles in that extra symbolism. Then there’s the rain - the sky crying for the two brothers, so you’re not sure if those are raindrops or tears on their faces + lotus pond for the Yunmeng vibes. As for the golden core, I wanted to make it kinda messy and leaking like blood + shining and make it the main light source of the piece. Also kinda like a glow stick liquid.

I also like finding fitting music to go with my art and this one was actually supposed to go with Avicii’s Hey Brother, but when I was looking it up on Spotify I saw Kodaline’s Brother right above, gave it a listen and then the lyrics hit me. So I already knew that they’re gonna go in the caption. Also apparently it’s like The Song for them and yeah, makes sense.

2. Creating

2.1 Set up and tools

I use Paint Tool SAI + Wacom Intuos S to do all my art! The entire pic was made on a 2000 x 3000 px canvas, since I don’t like to work too big because of limited brush sizes in SAI + I don’t want to torture my laptop, as my art takes up quite a lot of processing power with a lot of layers and modes and sometimes things like to crash at the final steps 😬.

2.2 Planning and composition

So I started off by doing a digital sketch and focusing on the composition a bit more - I wanted something geometrical, so I went for the diamond shape with Wei Wuxian’s silhouette and the placement of the lotuses. Also the composition is vertical, all the important info is in the middle column - you could cut off 2/3 of the picture and it would still tell the story.

2.3 Lineart

Then I did the lineart over the sketch layer (there was a more detailed one than the “planning” sketch, but it looks like I deleted it once I finished). I usually draw more than I have to and on separate layers, so that I can move/modify things easily later - for example JC’s headpiece here didn’t really make it that much into the final piece but It Was There. Once I was satisfied with the lineart, I cleaned it by erasing overlapping things, like Wei Wuxian’s clothes behind Jiang Cheng’s head.  

2.4 Planning the lighting

After doing the lineart I blocked the characters with a single color and planned the lighting. The golden core is the main light source here, so it dictates which parts are gonna be lighter and which darker (although there is gonna some ambient occlusion from the background + reflected light from the water). I also added water and lotuses in the foreground + painted the background.

2.5 Shading the characters

After that, I started shading the pic. I usually do two steps here - one with “base” shading - focusing on the details and values based on the light source, then the mood shading with more coloring - based on the setting the characters are in. The first one is mostly done with the Multiply tool and base layer blending/painting, the second mostly with layer modes like Overlay and Luminosity. I also colored some parts of the lineart to make the shapes stand out (see: wwx’s front hairs)

2.6 Environment and touch-up details

Then it was time for the water and lotuses + the “special effects” for the rain and all the stuff associated with it - water splashes, mist, sparkling drops! Also some more mood lighting. Lots of new layers to keep everything organized and separated.

2.7 Finished pic

And done! After finishing I usually adjust the contrast/gamma/saturation of my art (or just edit it all in curves) + sometimes sharpen it to bring out details → I make a few different versions and pick the one that works the best. Although with this pic I was satisfied with the raw result so no major changes happened.

3. Posting

For posting I always scale down the pictures and upload them as a draft on this art blog. Then I check if things look okay on mobile as well - from what I’ve noticed my phone makes everything more warm-toned. Depending on the time I finish drawing, I either post it right away or wait until the next day, when there is more traffic on tumblr. I finished this one around 8PM of my local time, which is fine - so I posted it right away (also I was just excited, couldn’t wait 😅)!

As caption I used the lyrics from Brother by Kodaline, as mentioned before!

So yeah, that would be it! 

If you made it till this part - thank you and I hope you have an awesome day! ✨

Let’s keep the artist vibes here - I’m gonna tag (not 5 ppl but shh) @still-snowing​ and this piece that still breaks my heart @driszol​ and this Song Jiyang pic that lives in my head to this day @kushexi​​ and this pic with fox Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan bc it still makes me melt → no pressure of course! or if you want to do some other piece that’s awesome as well!

[saebyeog-i]

bitter brews (i) | syh

“Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.””

genre | not quite a coffeeshop!au, (mild)slow burn, this thought about being an adversaries to lovers fic for six minutes

rating/warnings | a stupid amount of exposition about coffee plants, catch me throwing in the random recipes that have been my go-to for cooking during quarantine, is this angsty?, discussions of mental health issues {see tags for details}, overall mature content/themes {foul language, alcohol consumption, references & discussion of masturbation, awkward boners, future smut}, some soft moments, and some good ol’ tooth rotting waxing poetic nonsense fluff. Don’t expect too much out of this I just got tired of editing this part so I’m finally posting it.

word count | 19.6k (I meant for this to be a super long one-shot but it’s turning into a story in parts for the sake of ratings w h o o p s)

pairing | Johnny Seo x fem reader

writing playlist | Egotistic - Mamamoo, Black Swan - BTS, Sober - HYO, I Blame On You - Taeyeon, Heartbeat - BTS, Close to Me (Red Velvet Remix) - Ellie Goulding feat. Red Velvet

—

“So, what you mean to say is… you’re not coming? Like, at all?”

The bright yellow plastic of the rotary phone was slightly cool against your overheating skin, which was constantly veiled in a thin layer of sweat whenever you stayed on the farm property instead of the main house on the opposite side of the island. It was the first week of May, which meant it was already humid again. If it wasn’t the time for the daily afternoon rain showers, it might as well have felt like it was raining with how saturated the air was.

“I’m sorry, Bean, I just can’t get on a plane right now. I thought it would be fine it we stretched out the time between flights, but all my doctors are saying I need to just stay here between now and the birth, so…”

Your sister’s voice trailed off and you had to wait for a moment to be sure it wasn’t the poor reception for the phone call running across the four thousand miles that separated you— the four thousand miles that would continue to separate you for the rest of the summer.

You exhaled and twirled the aged spiral phone cord that could barely hold its shape around your index finger, staring at the concrete floor and scrunching your toes. “Well, I’m already here, obviously… do you… you want me to stay here then? Take care of stuff?” You asked hesitantly, already having a feeling of what the answer would be.

A crackly sigh of relief came through the other line. “Little Bean, you are the best, Yunho was worried about asking you to stay and man the farm for the summer harvest but I knew you would just offer! You’re the best like that, you know?” You gritted your teeth and forced a smile through, even though no one was there to witness it. “Okay, so we’ll ship out the supplies in the next few days. Yunho is gonna email you a list of delivery dates of materials for the projects he had planned for the summer and a few contractor contacts…”

Her voice warbled on, and you could only nod your head and vocalize an ‘mhmm’ every so often, listening to her rattle off instructions and information that you knew would be sent in an email too. You’d been looking forward to spending the summer with her— you hadn’t gotten a proper chance to visit for more than a weekend since she and Yunho had gotten married about two years ago— but it turned out this wouldn’t be it. You couldn’t blame her though; she was approaching the third trimester of her pregnancy. You’d do anything for her, even this, even isolating yourself on a farm for four months. Alone.

Not exactly the leave of absence you’d been hoping for from work, but it would have to do.

✧ ✧ ✧

This was supposed to be a vacation. A break. Some much needed time off, away from your job, your career, and your “normal” life. You told yourself over and over again you were looking forward to it. And besides, it would all be worth it, because of all the time you’d get to spend with your sister after so long.

And then she had to betray you by going and getting fucking knocked up, with twins no less.

Fucking happily married couples with their god damn healthy ass sex lives and family planning and wanting to raise children. What the fuck was that all about?

It had been so long since your last vacation. Years, in fact. So long, you had over two months of paid time off accrued at work, and back at New Years you’d made the preliminary plans to spend a month on the farm in Hawaii with her, bonding and just relaxing. Sure, it would require some manual labor for the business here and there, but mostly just to rest.

What a joke that turned out to be.

The farm in Hawaii. You know, the coffee farm your brother in law bought four years ago on a dare from your sister, because he said he could totally pull it off as a side hustle, and she said he wouldn’t be able to? Yeah, that one. Fast forward to today and the side hustle became a full fledged passion that roped in a good amount of the family into the business. Siblings, cousins, parents, all involved in different aspects of package design, social media marketing, distribution and wholesale— everyone except you, who stuck with your soul sucking job in advertising, the same industry your brother in law had since left behind.

The farm and roasting wasn’t an overnight success by any means, but in the last year the brand had really taken off in the craft coffee scene. After all, Kona coffee was well sought after, and one could only claim the name ‘Kona’ if it was grown on the same two thousand or so acres of land on Hawaii’s big island. You know, the same area of land you were living on for the remainder of the summer?

Right. The whole summer.

It was just supposed to be the month of May. And then it turned into May and some of June, when you’d asked your sister to make more concrete plans, and she kept brushing it off. And then the week before you actually got off the plane, you hadn’t booked the return ticket, because you were still waiting for her answer. And then the phone call, and now, this was… indefinite? No, that was being too dramatic; if anything, it would be up through the birth. Based on the number of projects Yunho had planned for the farm, through the remainder of the summer was how long everything would take. Just you and a little over five acres of land and the summer heat. The thought of an extended isolation had your breath catching in your throat, but the last thing you wanted to do was complain or call for help. Stubborn and proud, you wouldn’t have made the offer to stay if you didn’t mean it, if you didn’t think you could handle it. There was no way you were backing out now.

When Yunho had first bought the farm, it had been a rough first few years of refining the coffee plants that had been on the land and uncared for for a number of years, but the last two summers had provided a steady increase in the harvest yield. There was a small farmhouse on the property, with two small bedrooms, a shower, and a small kitchen and living area. A few miles down the coast was the nicer, newer condo that the business had bought, a multi-bedroom unit with some better amenities for when more of your family wanted to visit. It felt weird spending time there— it was too nice, too clean, and quite frankly you had enough to keep yourself busy with on the farm property, you’d rather not have to spend time driving back and forth every day. So you opted to spend most of your nights sleeping here, even though it meant only ceiling fans and no air conditioning.

The farmhouse had very shitty, very limited wifi and a grand total of three electrical outlets outside of what was used to power the oven and refrigerator. One of those outlets was, of course, dedicated to an espresso machine on the kitchen counter, which you had gotten acquainted with over the last two weeks. It was an older model and a little temperamental (the one at the condo was much nicer), but it was still from a decent manufacturer, and you could still use it to pulled a decent shot.

Most of the time you worked in silence, and most of the time you were never too aware of how much time had passed, other than when the sun went down and it was suddenly dark out. You weren’t always this absent minded, you swore— maybe it was a byproduct of being alone for so long—

A loud, high pitched whine filled your ears, followed by some scratching at the door that lead to the lanai outside. You sighed, standing up from the kitchen table and walking over to face the monster that had made it.

“What? What do you want now?”

Staring back at you from the the other side of the screen door was what you’d affectionally referred to as The Thirty-Three Pound Menace— the medium sized stray dog that your brother-in-law so conveniently forgot to mention had been living on the farm for the last few months. It had been waiting outside the farmhouse when you first arrived, and you’d learned from the neighbors that Yunho had taken a liking to the stray and had arranged for them to feed it in his absence. But now that you were here, taking care of the dog was added to your list of daily chores. It seemed to not want to leave the farm property unless actively accompanied by you, with the assurance that you’d be bringing it back with you.

With a roll of your eyes you hip checked the door open just enough to let the dog inside the house. It circled you several times, sniffing at your knees before sitting and panting, staring up at you expectantly. In the two weeks you’d been here, the majority of your conversations were between you and this, a being that couldn’t talk back. Maybe you liked it that way. “What, dinner? Fine, fine,” you grumbled, shuffling to the cabinet and pulling out a can of wet food.

Your meals had consisted of relatively simple dishes, but today you were cranky at the confirmation that your summer was not going to go as planned. Tonight’s dinner featured a bowl of cereal and a coffee mug full of cold white wine.

You ate in silence. You drank in silence. The only noise came from the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, and the occasional sound of the dog, cleaning its paws and laying by your feet protectively. Why it seemed so determined to win over your affection, you had no idea.

After sitting in silence with only your thoughts and the now sleeping dog to keep you company for what felt like hours and downing a second mug full of wine, you found yourself letting out a loud yell, startling the dog and waking it. In a fury, you pulled out the laptop you had for the sole purpose of checking once a day for emails from Yunho and connected it to the shitty, sub-par wifi with just enough patience to navigate to an airline’s website and search flights back to the states. You were looking for the cheapest, most reasonable one you could find. After all of five minutes of research and a quick round on mental math, you clicked on a date and hit the ‘book now’ button before you could second guess yourself, slamming the computer shut once the payment went through and shoving it away from you across the table.

“September 10th,” you grumbled out loud for only you and the dog to hear. Standing from the chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, you crossed the room and stopped in front of the wall calendar your sister had put up the last time she’d visited the farm just after New Years. You lifted a few pages and flipped forward to the month of September. Red marker in hand, you found the date and circled it rather aggressively, several times over. You looked down at the dog, watching you patiently with its head tilted. “You got that? I’m getting off this fucking island on September 10th.”

✧ ✧ ✧

The day your life fell apart came twelve days later just before nine in the morning.

Mondays were the delivery day, that’s what Yunho had laid out in his instructional emails to you. Your only source of personal transportation was an older jeep, one you didn’t enjoy driving, given that it had no top and needed some mechanical work done. So you’d made arrangements and had your groceries delivered on Monday mornings, buying mostly direct from another farm on the other side of the island, and they were always kind enough to act as the courier for whatever additional miscellaneous supplies you’d request, regardless of where they’d have to go to procure them.

There was a winding driveway that lead up to the house from the main road, and a larger, wider drive up a less steep hillside for larger vehicles for delivery. You were fully expecting the truck that lumbered up the delivery road and came to a stop just outside the barn which housed the massive coffee roaster and stored most of the processed green beans from harvest. Even though it had only been three weeks, there was a routine that had slowly been settling into place: the sound of the truck coming to a stop riled up the dog, the dog came running from wherever and started barking, you’d get your groceries and any other assorted items, the dog would get a treat because your delivery boy had a soft spot for the creature, and you’d pay for your goods. “Hey Jin,” you called out over the barking from the front of the barn, hands currently full with a sack of processed coffee beans you’d hoisted over your shoulder. “You can just leave the groceries on the porch, I’ll put them inside in a few. Did you manage to get me the bags of fertilizer and some wood stakes?” A loud thud sounded as you dropped the bag to its resting place on the concrete floor.

“I mean, I can go put these inside if that’s easier. And yeah, there’s ten bags to get us started, we can have more delivered next week if you still need ‘em.”

You whipped around to face whoever had just spoken, because that voice was most certainly not Jin.

He was tall like Jin, had wide shoulders like Jin, and his hair was kept just a bit long and looked ridiculously shiny and soft and like you could run your fingers through it like Jin’s. It was a lighter brown with some honeyed highlights running through it, compared to the dark brown almost black of Jin’s. You tensed, seeing him carrying a brown paper bag with a loaf of bread and the leafy green tops of carrots sticking out the top. He wasn’t looking at you, rather, he was far too occupied with bending down slightly and scratching behind the ear of the dog who was currently whining and wagging its tail at his feet. Some guard dog it was.

Without a second thought, you reached for the first sharp object you could find, which happened to be the box cutter you used to cut open the burlap bags the beans came back from the processing plant in. “You’re not Jin,” you said tersely, holding the utility knife by your hip defensively.

“Chill out killer, he’s harmless,” a more familiar voice called. Seokjin, your regular delivery driver whose family owned the farm you bought directly from, came into view carrying another two bags of produce and a small pile of envelopes. “Picked up your mail on my way up, the box was practically overflowing. Do you ever check that thing?” You’d first met Jin two years ago when you’d come to visit your sister and Yunho for a long weekend. He’d become a good friend of Yunho’s and was one of the people who would take turns feeding the dog when no one else was here.

Ignoring the unknown man, you relaxed your shoulders slightly and placed the knife down on the table behind you. “Thanks,” you grumbled, taking the small pile of letters from him. Admittedly, you hadn’t checked the mailbox since the day after you’d arrived on the farm, mostly out of sloth and spite. You sifted through the letters— mostly junk mail, with a few bills and notices relating to the business. You put those in front so you could look through them later, when you’d finished the physical work for the day. You tore one envelope open in particular when you noticed it was addressed directly to you and had your sister and Yunho’s Illinois address in the upper corner. It was a letter postmarked from two weeks ago, which struck you as odd, because what the hell would he bother writing in a letter that he couldn’t just send you in an email or a text or a phone call? You started reading aloud softly to yourself.

“‘My Dearest Bean… First of all I want to apologize for the change in plans, but with your sister’s condition her doctors just don’t recommend her traveling,’ God, he’s so dramatic she’s not terminally ill she’s just pregnant. Blah blah blah, I don’t care, you’re full of absolute shite, Yunho,” you began skimming through his lengthy pre amble, looking for the purpose behind the note. Without reading the middle you flipped the stationary paper over to see his handwriting covered the entire back of the page, too. “God, he’s so long winded. Oh, here we go, the very end— ‘I promise we’ll make it up to you, thank you for running the farm and taking care of Puppy, please be nice to Johnny and treat him well, he seems like a good kid.” You stared at the words written on the paper and looked up at Jin. “Who the fuck is Johnny?”

The man next to him cleared his throat and held his hand up. “Johnny! I’m uh, that’s me. You must be _____— I’ve heard a lot about you from Yunho! I’m Johnny Seo, it’s nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, reaching a hand out.

You eyed it but made no move to reciprocate the action. “Cool. You know Yunho. Lots of people know Yunho, he’s a huge fucking flirt, social butterfly of the century, the man never shuts up. Why should I be nice to you?”

He shifted on his feet and his outstretched hand retreated. “Oh. Uh. I’m uh, here for the summer,” he explained, sounding almost confused. “Didn’t— didn’t Yunho tell you?”

Your eyes bugged out and you looked over to Jin. “Jin who the fuck is this and why is he on my farm?” You whispered.

Your friend laughed. “You read the end of Yunho’s letter. I’m sure if you read the whole thing it would explain more. This is Johnny, and he’s here for the summer. He’s gonna help you out! I know the list of all the projects you need to finish this summer is lengthy, and plus look at the guy, he’s jacked! You could use the muscle for manual labor. More work for him, less for you, right? And look, the poor dog you refuse to give a name to even likes him!” Jin gestured comically at Johnny. You looked over, sizing him up some�� Jin wasn’t wrong. The stranger was muscular on top of being tall, and under the capped sleeves of his tee shirt you saw his arms that looked the size of your head. The dog was still circling him, sniffing and begging for attention.

Johnny tried smiling again. “Yunho mentioned there was a lot of construction type work to do. I uh, had nothing else planned so he said I could stay on the farm for the summer and work in exchange for food and a place to sleep. I take it he uh, didn’t run that by you first, did he?”

Your grip on the papers in hand tightened and you felt your jaw tense involuntarily. “No, he managed to not mention that once to me. How did you even get here?” You hissed back.

“I picked him up at the airport this morning,” Jin answered calmly, “Yunho gave me a buzz a few days ago to ask if I could bring him here with this week’s groceries.”

“So he managed to arrange for him to get on a plane and secure transportation to the farm but couldn’t be bothered to call me and let me know?”

Jin only laughed, his eyes crinkling. “I’m pretty sure he knows you well enough by now to know that this would have been your reaction whatever way he told you.” Despite the kinship you’d felt growing between the two of you, Jin was Yunho’s friend first, and it only made sense that his allegiance would be to him first. Of course he’d side with Yunho on this matter. “And yes, like Johnny said I did bring a bundle of plant stakes and ten bags of fertilizer— they’re in the back of the truck bed.”

“Oh, I could get those—” Johnny started, moving to step towards the truck.

You could barely think straight. First they bailed on you unexpectedly to spend the summer on the farm alone. That was fine— you’d gotten that through your head, and had come to terms with that. But suddenly springing a plus one on you, without your consent? Absolutely the fuck not.

“Yeah. Don’t need help. Thanks,” you spat, grabbing the bags of groceries from him and brushing past, stomping your way back to the farmhouse.

Johnny stood frozen for a moment before stammering, looking from Jin to your retreating figure and back again. “I should— I should talk to her, right? Or do I—”

“Whoa, don’t think too hard there handsome, I can smell wood burning. Don’t stress about it. She’s just a little… touchy. Let me talk to her,” Jin patted Johnny on the back before heading up the path to the farmhouse after you.

You’d stormed into the house and slammed the groceries down on the counter and let out a screech of rage before picking up the receiver of the yellow rotary phone and dialing. Tapping you foot incessantly, you waited as it rang.

“He-llo~?” The singsong voice that came through the other end was far too amused with itself, more so than usual, and that’s how you knew he knew why you were calling.

“Jung Yunho you better be thankful you knocked up my sister because if it weren’t for the babies in her womb I would fly myself across the Pacific and flay you alive,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

In true unbothered fashion, your brother in law only laughed at your threat. “Ah, so I take it your employee has arrived safely! I’ll have to thank Seokjin for getting him from the airport. Can you give the Kims a pound of the special medium roast as a token of my gratitude?”

“No!” You yelled back, “No! I will not! I’m already beyond frustrated that I’m on this island alone for the entire summer, I’m doing this as a favor because we’re family! I’m not your slave, Yunho! Where was my warning, huh? When were you going to ask if I was okay with you sending some stranger to live in the same house as me, huh?!”

The familiar ache in your chest started to swell, and breathing became difficult. ‘Not now,’ you thought bitterly, ‘Please not right now-’

You curled your free hand into a fist and pressed your nails into your palm, hard, grounding yourself. Yunho’s voice on the phone blurred out and by the time his words started making sense again, you’d already missed what he’d been saying. “I’m not saying you have to like the kid, just show him some hospitality, yeah? You just said it yourself, you didn’t want to be alone this summer, and now you won’t be. I know you’re a good cook so that’s why I told him food would be included. Don’t worry, I’ve already sent some pre-payments to the Kims, so your grocery orders are doubled for the rest of the summer.” His voice went quiet for a second. You rubbed at your temple in frustration, squinting your eyes shut and forcing the mere thought of tears deep back into the recesses of your brain. “Bean? You still there?”

“Don’t get all pretend concerned, Yunho. And stop using my childhood nickname any time you want something from me.” Your voice was quieter now, the intensity of your emotions subsiding, but the betrayal you felt still running strong. “Fine. I’ll tolerate him. But there better be a case of wine in next week’s groceries to make this bearable.”

“Done and done! You’re gonna love him Bean, he’s really great. He’ll be good company.” The continued use of your childhood nickname from anyone other than your sister always gave you pause.

“I said tolerate not befriend. There’s a difference,” you clarified quickly. A knock at the door startled you, and you jumped and looked to see Jin standing by the front door, a roll of wooden stakes under his arm. You rolled your eyes and waved your arm to shoo him away, pointing at the phone pressed to your ear. “Look, Yunho, I don’t know what you’re hoping to see me get out of this, but if he drives me insane I can’t promise that he’ll walk away from this unscathed.”

His laugh echoed through the receiver and reverberated against your skin. “I just think it would do you some good to have some human interaction, that’s all. Your sister too. She says hi, by the way,” he added softly, “And so do the little ones.”

You scoffed. Yunho always brought up your sister as a way of diffusing your temper. He knew it would always work. “They’re still in embryonic fluid, they can’t talk and they certainly don’t have cognitive function.” Sometimes you wondered if even Yunho had that with the wild ideas that went through his mind.

“Ever the romantic, you are. You know, soon they’ll be able to think! And they’ll be thinking of their favorite auntie, and how much they can’t wait to meet her! So she can’t be arrested for murder between now and when they’re born, because babies can’t go to prison!”

“I’m telling your sister you said that,” you challenged. With an exhale, you did your best to let go of the frustration and tension inside and politely ended the phone call. You were trying to clear your head and collect yourself before heading back outside when you heard a yell that sounded all too much like Jin’s voice.

“What fresh hell—” you started, shuffling back outside in the direction of the commotion where you saw Jin, somewhat struggling under the weight of two bags of fertilizer, and Johnny, now with a baseball cap turned backwards on his head, easily hoisting a stack of four bags without slouching.  

Your eyebrow ticked up upon the realization that it was almost seventy pounds that he was slinging around like it was nothing. “Anywhere specific you want these?” He asked innocently, looking up at where you stood on the lanai just outside the door. You almost cursed him out when he blinked at you twice.

You pointed your left arm down the hill, the opposite direction of the way to the barn. “Shed. Next to the vegetable garden.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “And lose the hat. Or at least don’t wear it backwards. Makes you look like an ass.”

Johnny’s mouth hung open for a moment before he hummed and winked. “You got it, Boss! Come on handsome, if you can carry those good looks you can carry some dirt,” he called back to Jin, who was currently grumbling about how manual labor wasn’t a part of his delivery arrangement.

The hairs on your arm stood up on edge as you watched Johnny laugh deeply as he ambled his way in the direction you’d pointed. The thirty three pound menace next to you whined and wagged its tail, panting as it went from watching you to watching Johnny’s retreating figure. You looked down and made eye contact. “If I survive this, I’m going to kill Yunho.”

✧ ✧ ✧

There was no case of wine in the grocery deliveries the following week. The reasoning Yunho gave was that per Jin’s investigation, the liquor stores were all out of your favorite wine, so there was no point in sending you a sub par alternative. It was absolute crap, but you had better things to do than chew out your brother in law over the phone. Took way more energy than it was worth.

So far, Johnny was making good on his word and earning his keep. At first, you’d tried avoiding him as much as possible, intentionally waking up hours ahead of him and starting your day when the sun rose. You never made much noise in the mornings, the loudest thing you did was make coffee, and lately you’d opted for a pour over versus pulling shots of espresso. You weren’t personally one for breakfast, choosing just coffee and maybe a piece of fruit instead. This morning you felt a little hungrier than usual, so you thought you’d get yourself a bowl of cereal. Peering into your pantry, you saw that on the shelf where there had been a stash of cereal boxes, there was now nothing.

“Where the fuck are my cocoa pebbles?” You swore in shock, not realizing you weren’t alone in the kitchen.

“Shit sorry, I ate the last of those yesterday.”

You whirled around to see Johnny, still seemingly half asleep and with some gnarly bedhead, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. His lips were so perfectly pouty, one small part of your brain almost thought he looked cute like this.

But no, he wasn’t cute, he was a thief— he’d stolen all of your cereal stash. “Did you seriously eat through four boxes in a week?” You asked incredulously.

“It was three and a quarter! And yeah I don’t know, I’m always hungry and just one bowl of cereal isn’t filling enough, so I usually have two, or three...” He mumbled, voice trailing off as he rubbed a hand behind his head sheepishly.

You snorted. And then a thought came across you. “Johnny,” you said calmly, the feeling of his name on your tongue foreign and strange. Was this the first time you’d addressed him by name since his arrival? You couldn’t remember. “Do you not know how to cook?”

He hummed thoughtfully for a second. “No-pe!” He popped the p sound in the word. How was he this cheerful, even first thing in the morning? “I mean, I can like, boil water and cook pasta and stuff like that. I think I successfully grilled pork belly once, though it was probably doused in too much oil and too many spices. My college experience was funded almost exclusively on instant dinners and takeout for two years, and then for the second half one of my roommates was an actual chef, so, no one was allowed in the kitchen ‘cept for him.”

“Honestly, I am shocked that you haven’t perished in some tragically strange idiotic accident yet,” you sighed and shuffled to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon. You grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet under the stove and clicked the burner on, reaching for the oil bottle that lived on the counter top and drizzling some in the pan.

Johnny shuffled closer to inspect what you were doing and let out a gasp of appreciation. “You’re making me eggs and bacon?”

“I’m making me eggs and bacon,” you corrected, “But I guess I’ll make enough for you too,” you said as you peeled the strips off the packaging and placed them into the pan with a sizzle. You reached for a few eggs and cracked four into the pan directly, cocked your head at the amount of food, and then grabbed two more eggs and added them in before taking a fork and scrambling them all together, adding salt and white pepper to the bubbling liquid. You glanced up at Johnny, still watching you, slightly curious. “I don’t trust you. You say you’re an adult but you eat like a teenage boy still. There’s never any leftovers.” After a few minutes you flipped the strips of bacon over and then quickly chopped up a green onion and scraped it onto the scramble just before the eggs finished cooking.

Johnny watched you the whole time, and you felt only slightly uneasy under his gaze. When you turned off the stove after plated your food and stepping away to pour yourself some coffee and he didn’t move, you gestured at the pan in a fashion as if to silently ask him ‘What?’

“Oh!” He gasped out lightly, springing into action and plating the food for himself. You hadn’t bothered to sit down at the table, instead holding the plate in front of you as you leaned against the counter and ate. Johnny followed your lead, taking a bite and groaning audibly in enjoyment at he chewed. He smiled and his eyes shone, almost sparkling. You watched him curiously for a moment before he mumbled out “Your cooking is really good! It uh, reminds me of my mom’s. She’s a great cook.”

You kept your lips tightly shut at the apparent compliment. “It’s just eggs, you weirdo. Finish up and do the dishes. When you’re done meet me by the shed. Today you’re stripping off the old paint and removing any of the rotting boards and disposing of them,” you instructed while placing your empty plate in the sink. His tasks for the day were the next phase in slowly rebuilding the dilapidated shed on the west side of the property to make it useful for storage of all the tools you used to tend to the fruit trees and vegetable garden nearby.

He flashed a smile at you and gave a mock salute. “Aye-aye, captain, I am at your service.”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, downing more of your coffee before trudging off.

It was going to be a long summer.

✧ ✧ ✧

“I’m telling you Wendy, I’m going to need an alibi, I really am going to murder my brother in law.”

“What, for giving you live-in eye candy for the summer and hinting that he thinks you need to get laid?”

“Ugh, no, that’s not— hold up, you don’t agree with him, do you?”

The sound of your best friend’s laughter through the phone had you dragging your hands over your face and pulling down at your eyelids dramatically, as if she could see your reaction.

On Thursdays, you finished up your work for the day around 4pm so you could pull up a chair next to the rotary phone and make time for the weekly scheduled phone call with Wendy. She’d insisted on the arrangement after you went six days without texting her, which you’d insisted was because service was spotty, but she’d accurately called you out on being cranky and stewing by yourself.

You and Wendy had met during your freshman year of college. By graduation, you’d lived together for three years, and made a vow to move to the same city together post grad, hence why she was still your roommate now�� or was, seeing as you were on the island instead of back in the two bedroom apartment you shared. There was a five hour timezone difference between Hawaii and Chicago, so you’d figured out a schedule that worked for both of you. The calls had a tendency to last for several hours, and depending on how much wine you’d drink while on the phone with her would include bathroom breaks and you inevitably swearing at whatever you were cooking for dinner than night.

“Honey, please. I love you. Dearly, and against all other advice, you’re my best friend— but you need to get laid. You haven’t been this tense since our last finals week of senior year. And clearly you’re not opposed to the idea of Eye Candy banging your brains out, otherwise you wouldn’t have described him as, and I quote, ‘dumb hot and stupidly ripped’. When are you gonna send me a photo so I have something better to work with?”  

“Okay but are you sure you’re not the sexually frustrated one here and you’re just trying to live vicariously through me?”

Wendy’s hum sounded through the line. “I mean, can’t we both be desperately horny and in need of getting some? It’s not ideal but it is possible. Plus, I’m not the one that didn’t pack her vibrator—”

You let out a whine interrupting her as you leaned back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass a few times as you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder. “Shut up stop reminding me! I regret it but no I’m not letting you send me a new one, especially not with a guy living with me. Come on, my stories are boring, it’s the same thing every day. I wake up, I feed the dog, I tell him what to do and then I hide away doing my own chores. When are you gonna tell me more about that girl you were seeing— what was her name, Joo-something?”

“Nice try, we’re not changing the subject with my dating life. Seriously, babe, you should just think about it.”

“And what, make it awkward for the rest of the summer? No thanks,” you shot her idea down quickly.

“I’m willing to bet money you’ll cave before the end of the summer. Plus, who doesn’t love a good ol’ summer fling? And who says you ever have to see him again once it’s all over?”

As much as you’d loathe to admit it, Wendy had a bit of a point there. “Cute, but you and I both know I’m too high strung for a temporary fling. Plus, I’m not in the mood to catch feelings right now.”

“If I find a way to replenish your wine supply, would that help?”

You groaned dramatically once more. “Not with the sexual frustration, but with my overall wellbeing, yes, yes it would.”

Wendy squealed on the other end of the phone. “Ha! So you admit it, you are sexually frustrated!”

“Woman, when in the years that you’ve known me have I not been at least some kind of frustrated?” You acknowledged.

Your best friend laughed in agreement, understanding she wasn’t going to get much more out of you about Johnny, and began a lengthy and detailed story about her last three dates with a girl she’d met through a friend of a friend. As you listened to how her voice held a dreamlike quality to it when she talked about her, you couldn’t help the pang of jealousy you felt and a sinking feeling in your gut that you’d been lying through your teeth earlier, and that maybe, subconsciously, you did want to catch feelings.

Maybe.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So… is there a story or a reason why you’re here instead of Yunho?”

You lifted your head from your focused task of sorting out the peaberry beans from the regular beans. It was tedious, time consuming, annoying as all hell, and made you want a drink stiffer than the coffee that you were certain made up more of your body fluids than blood or water did at this point. “Yes,” you said curtly after studying his face for a minute, not providing any further explanation. Johnny had his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, nodding for a moment where he stood in the entrance to the barn.

You had set up your mad scientist level organization for the process all across the concrete floor of the refinished barn. Over the last week, Johnny had finished replacing the boards on the siding of the shed, stained the wood, and sealed it with a protective coat. He even managed to remove all the broken glass from the windows without sustaining any injuries, which you hadn’t thought possible for him. This morning you had him weed the vegetable garden, prune back the hedges along the back side of the house, and clean the deck of the lanai. How did he possibly still have any energy left? He was definitely a harder worker than you’d first given him credit for— you shook your head, not wanting to continue a spiral on Johnny and any detailed thoughts about him.

Back to your task at hand.

The harvest had been divided into several metal basins of five pounds of beans each, and in front of each basin you’d placed two dishes on either side. The point was to be able to weigh how many beans ended up being peaberry from each five pounds of harvest, and to see if you could leverage a steady average from the yield and better plan for how many pounds of the limited roast you could advertise for and set the price per pound accordingly. You wore a face mask and nylon disposable gloves while sorting, and despite being an annoying task, after a while it became a way for you to zone out and let the hours pass by. When the dishes were empty and you first started sorting them, there was a distinct echo of the small beans hitting the metal dish over and over again, until enough beans were lining the bottom that it started to dull the noise.

“Sigh.”

A slight puff of air washed over you. Did he just say the word ‘sigh’ out loud? And was he hovering over your shoulder?

“Can I help you?” You asked, pausing your sorting for only a moment.

“Isn’t it my job to ask you that question? I’m not some layabout, I am trying to earn my keep, you know,” Johnny said in response, rubbing his hands together and eyeing the basin of beans in front of him. You were almost inclined to hand it to him. Over the last four weeks, you’d gotten a lot of decent work out of him, even if you did feel somewhat micro-manage-y half the time with the tasks you did give him. “Okay, how does this work?”

You groaned exaggeratedly and excessively, rolling your eyes. When you didn’t answer, he reached forward and plucked a single coffee bean from the basin and examined it closely. “Hey, this one’s funny looking!”

“Don’t touch them with your bare hands, that’s just going to waste them.” You swatted the bean out of his hand and then looked at your own gloves and sighed. “If you’re insisting on helping, fine. But you need sanitary gear to handle them. Go wash your hands, there’s masks and gloves by the sink,” you grumbled, standing up and taking off your own gloves to dispose of them and replace them with a fresh pair.

Johnny followed obediently, trailing behind you a little too innocently for someone of his size. “Yes, the beans still need to be roasted and that’ll kill any bacteria, but I just like to be extra cautious, okay? Because it’s a mutation there’s no rule to how much of a yield I’ll get with each harvest so I don’t like wasting even a single bean,” you reasoned, settling back down and folding your legs back at the now half-sorted metal bowl.

“So, we’re just sorting the weird ones from the normal ones?” He asked while picking up another peaberry bean, this time with gloved hands and a mask over his mouth and nose.

You took a quick glance and nodded to confirm that yes, the bean in his hand was one of the weird ones he should be looking for. “They’re called peaberry. Normally, a coffee cherry has two seeds in it, or beans. Those two seeds mature in the center of the cherry and you get one flat side and one side touching it. Sometimes people call them ‘flat beans’ but those are the ‘normal’ beans, as you said,” you explained, sifting through your bowl rather quickly. “But the peaberry ones only have one bean inside. The bean is round, so that’s where the name ‘peaberry’ comes from, because—“

“Because it’s round so it looks like a pea, oh I get it! That’s funny,” he laughed, examining the rounded bean in front of him. “Okay, got it, so we’re sorting the peaberry from the flat beans?”

“You proud of your new vocab words?” You snorted, listening for the well known tink of a bean hitting the empty metal bowls. He giggled in acknowledgement.

You worked in relative silence, a small rhythm growing between the two of you. Johnny worked at about half the speed you did, but you couldn’t knock him for it, as it had taken you a while to pick up the pace when you first started hand sorting like this.

“How do you even know Yunho?” You finally asked. Four weeks since he’d arrived, and you’d never bothered to get to know him well enough to listen to the full story of how he’d ended up here.

Johnny shifted in his seated position, clearly a little taken aback that you’d bothered to ask him anything, given your track record. “Oh. Met him in Chicago when I was home visiting. At a local coffee shop, where my buddy Jaehyun is the manager. I went to go bother Jaehyun at work and he was just, shootin’ the shit with one of his coffee suppliers who was doing a visit. That supplier was Yunho. Started talking about how he owned the farm where the beans were grown, and that he wasn’t going to be able to spend the summer out there like he’d planned, so he was looking for some reliable help to uh, take care of things. Mentioned someone else would be on site and in charge, but offered the whole ‘room and board in exchange for copious amounts of physical labor’.”

“And you said yes? Just like that, no questions asked?” It seemed a little too easy, but then again, Johnny had proved to be a little too easygoing.

He shrugged. “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the point of my whole year. Just, go with the flow.” You glanced over, but Johnny was looking down, focused on the task at hand.

You nodded and hummed and turned back to your own basin to continue sorting. A few beats passed by before you couldn’t help yourself— “You’ve said that before. ‘Go with the flow’, or that you ‘had nothing else going on’. What do you mean by that?”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Johnny’s ears perk up, followed by movement of his cheeks implying the curve of a slight smile. “I’m on a gap year, I guess is what the kids would say. Or maybe sabbatical? Though it’s not like I have any tenure enough to qualify for the real meaning of the term. But yeah, anyways— year off from work. Not getting paid or anything, but, when it’s over if I want it, my old job is waiting for me.”

“How come? That seems so—”

“Impulsive?”

You frowned. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he repeated, but not in a mocking manner— it was in agreement. “I guess the best way to explain it is this: I was a huge workaholic. I’ve only had my one job post grad after studying business, and I woke up one morning a month before my twenty-fifth birthday and realized it was sucking the soul out of me. It was all I ate, slept, breathed, and it wasn’t even what I wanted to be doing with my life, I realized.”

His pain started sounding all too familiar. “What is it you wanted to do instead, then?”

Even under the mask covering the lower half of his face, his smile reached his eyes. “Photography. I got into an art school when I was applying to colleges, but it just seemed so… risky. I would’ve had to take out loans and instead I got almost a full ride for a bigger university, so I went for that instead. Studied business, managed to grind through undergrad and grad school in four years and walked out with a combined BS and MBA. Took classes every summer to make it happen. I think after graduation, I went back to my parents house and passed out and slept for twenty-three hours straight,” he laughed, clearly recalling a specific memory. “I felt really accomplished when it was over, and even had the job offer already lined up. But I wish I had had more courage to study what I was truly passionate about.

“So after an almost three year long stint at the company and a vested 401k, I decided to take a year off to just, travel the world a bit. I grinded so hard through college I never got the chance to do study abroad, so I guess I wanted to make up for that? I never used to act on impulse or follow my heart, so, that was the goal for this year. To do only that.”

His words struck you differently. This was a whole new side to Johnny that you really weren’t expecting— not that you had a particularly three dimensional view of him to begin with. “And your heart lead you here… to my brother-in-law’s coffee farm?”

He laughed again, trying to hide just how thrilled he was that you were actually engaging in a full on conversation with him. “Well, sort of. My year off started back in February, day before my birthday. Got on a plane and did a few months backpack trip around Asia. I had no clue what would be next, thought maybe Australia, maybe Europe, but when I got off the plane in Chicago to see my mom and regroup on my packing, I decided to go straight from the airport to surprise and bother Jaehyun at his coffee shop. That day I met Yunho. That was a little over six weeks ago. And now I’m here, with you.”

There was something about the way he said that that didn’t sit well in your stomach— with you, like it was a good thing, like he liked it. You didn’t deign him with a response to the end of his story. Like an extension of the current state of your mind, your hands were reaching, feeling around for something, but you were only met with the flat surface of the bottom of the basin.

You looked down to see the last of the metal bowls was empty. Somehow, you’d managed to sort through all twenty pounds of coffee beans. You pulled the face mask down under your chin as you stared at the metal surface for a moment before standing abruptly and turning on your heels.

Confused, Johnny called your name out after you questioningly. “It’s getting late and I’m hungry. You uh, bag up the peaberry and set it aside and then wash out all the metal trays,” you gave him his next set of tasks quickly to make your escape back to the farmhouse to put some distance between the two of you.

A little over an hour later, you’d put together a curry on the stove with some stew meat and a base that included apples, carrots, potatoes, and melted dark chocolate for a more mellow sweet taste to balance it out. You thought about the first time Johnny complimented your cooking when it was just eggs, and how he’d continued to compliment it with every new meal you’d make. You wouldn’t call yourself a chef by any means, thinking that enjoying your go-to recipes would be a more acquired taste, and were in the midst of serving yourself when Johnny came inside with the dog trailing behind him. You didn’t bother saying much, you never did when you’d finished cooking a meal; just a grunt acknowledging his presence and a head nod at the food before you took your bowl and went through the door to go sit on the lanai by yourself. Absent-mindedly, you whistled for the dog to follow you.

Johnny kept to himself that night, eating at the kitchen table, content with looking up out the bay window to see you hand feeding small chunks of meat from your bowl to the dog, even going so far as to pet its head. He shook his head to himself thinking about how you pretended to be so opposed to the dog, and how you still hadn’t given it a name, and smiled as he took another bite.

✧ ✧ ✧

At five weeks, you stopped watching Johnny like a hawk, and started giving him more lengthy tasks that you, quite frankly, just didn’t want to do yourself. Though, if you were being honest, every task you gave him was one you didn’t want to do yourself.

Such as his current one, which was to prep the ground for a new row of sapling fruit trees. You’d walked down from the farmhouse over the hill to the open area next to a row of lemon and guava trees where you’d set him to the task of digging a row of four foot wide, four foot deep holes. The week after next, Jin’s delivery would be a much larger one, and include a number of sapling fruit trees from his family’s farm— rambutans, limes, and mangos, to name a few. You wanted to make sure the holes got dug and the irrigation system set in place properly well in advance.

When you came to a stop at the end of the row of freshly dug holes in the ground you blinked once. Twice. A third time. The sight before you was impossible to comprehend. Because not only was Johnny finishing digging the last of ten massive holes having taken less than three hours to do so, but he had been digging them shirtless.

“What. What?” You asked, staring, eyes wide and brow furrowed.

“Huh?” He asked, looking up from the bottom of the last hole and swishing his head to get his bangs, matted with sweat against his forehead, out of his face. The sun had crested over to this side of the hill now and it was blisteringly hot out. Standing in direct sunlight, doing physical labor, obviously he’d worked up a sweat.

You had to tear your eyes away from the shine on his torso and return them to just his face. “Where the fuck is your shirt?”

He pointed to where a lump of fabric was off to the side next to a water bottle. “It’s fucking hot out, I was dying,” he reasoned.

“You’re hot,” you mumbled under your breath, turning on your heel to give yourself reprieve from the onslaught that was Johnny’s unexpected number of defined abdominal muscles that were usually covered by cotton t shirts.

“What was that?” He called, squinting up into the sun from the bottom of the hole.

“I said, put a god damn shirt on before you come back in my house,” you called back, already wrapping your arms around yourself and heading back to the farmhouse. “And dinner’ll be ready in twenty, so finish up,” you added, trudging off before he could respond.

What you would have seen if you’d turned back around was an open mouthed smile curl across his face, as Johnny hummed to himself at the joy he felt for this, the first time you’d bothered to warn him when dinner would be ready.

✧ ✧ ✧

Ever since you’d seen Johnny shirtless, you’d be restless.

Well, restless was the polite word. The word to better describe what you’d been feeling was… frustrated?

Distracted? Peeved? Worked up?

Horny.

The word you were avoiding was horny.

Wendy had been the one to get you to admit it during your last weekly phone call. You told her about the shirtless incident and the first thing she asked was if you had plans to throw out the washing machine and instead start doing your laundry on Johnny’s abs, which did not help your predicament any further. It was also Wendy who had pointed out that you’d been alone on this farm for almost two months with a dog and a man too pretty for his own good, and despite how he represented everything you were annoyed at in life at the moment, after seeing his half naked figure, it would only be natural for you to have been a little turned on. And a little turned on was exactly where you were— for the last week, you had been going on runs every night to release the excess pent up energy you suddenly had.

The last time you exercised this much you were still in college. Back then you went on hour long runs through the city with your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ because it was the only way you weren’t constantly bombarded with an on onslaught of messages from classmates, friends, family, or your on campus job that took up way too much of your time. And now, you found yourself returning to old habits, this time because what, you were too proud to just rub one out like the rest of humanity? (That phrasing, too, was courtesy of your best friend, when she again reminded you of your failure to pack your vibrator.)

After another eight miles up and down the road outside the farm that ran along the island’s coast your legs felt like absolute jello when you finished, but your head was empty enough that you were able to return to the property and exist near Johnny in peace. You walked by the barn on your way up to the farmhouse, sticking your head inside briefly to look for him. You didn’t hear any noise, and didn’t find him at first glance, but didn’t think much of it as you went back inside.

The dog was already in the kitchen, so that should have been your first clue. You opened the fridge and peered inside, pulling out a number of assorted ingredients to make a lemon cream sauce for pasta with chicken.

You set a pot of water to boil, turned the oven on to preheat, and began melting butter, garlic, oil, and a variety of herbs in a sauce pan. That plus the low hum of the overhead fan meant just enough noise that you couldn’t hear the water running from the small shower on the other side of the house, and you didn’t think twice as the heat cast off by the appliances made you feel even stuffier post-run, and you peeled your shirt off your body and rolled the waistband of your shorts down an inch, pressing your bare feet flat against the hardwood flooring to try and get some semblance of cooling relief.

It was only a few moments later, with the water boiling and pasta cooking inside and the chicken already seasoned and in the oven, when you peered over the bubbling sauce pan and dipped the edge of your pinky into the mixture to bring just a taste up to your mouth. Just like you’d hoped, it was light and had a kick of citrus to it from the lemon, but not so much that it was overpowering. You closed your eyes and hummed in appreciation as you licked the sauce off, which, in retrospect, probably sounded far too much like a moan for your own good.

“Jesus fuck—”

And suddenly, you realized you weren’t alone inside the house.

You screamed at first from the shock of being startled by the noise, and then again when it registered in your brain that Johnny was standing in the kitchen, hair dripping wet, chest bare and abdominal muscles just as defined as the last time you’d seen them, face flushed in some sort of embarrassment with a bath towel wrapped around his hips.

Johnny was fresh out of the shower, nearly naked in your kitchen, clutching his clothes balled up in his left hand.

You scream again.

“What are you doing?!” You shrieked out, raising your voice over the dog’s excited barking at the commotion the two of you had begun making.

He stammered for a moment, clearly frozen in place. “I was just! You were gone, and I was done for the day, so I took a shower but I— I forgot my change of clothes in my room and these towels are small and just— Jesus why are you wearing so little clothing?!”

Your fury returned full force at the comment. “Why am I wearing so little clothing? You’re in a towel for fuck’s sake! This is my house, I live here! I should be the one asking you where your clothes are!”

“They’re here, in my hand!” He yelled back, waving the bundle around frantically. “I just said I forgot them when I went to shower!”

Your eyes bugged out of you head as your gaze traveled down, taking in the entirety of the figure before you and— oh.

“Are you… are you hard right now?” You asked in bewilderment.

The way the color drained out of Johnny’s face and the speed with which he moved the bundle of clothing to hold it over the space between his legs answered your question.

“Oh, my god.” Exasperated, you slammed your eyes shut and held your hands up by your sides. “What the fuck, John.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— fuck, shit I made it weird— please don’t get mad, I can totally fix this,” he started spewing apologies, and you heard him take two steps closer to you. “Wait, were you looking at my dick?”

“Ah!” You spat out, turning away from him. His question was valid but you had no intention of acknowledging it. “Out! Get out of my house, go… somewhere else until that goes away or you can, I don’t know, take care of it!” You instantly thought of the implication of your words and then yelled again. “No— don’t— fuck, don’t do that! Jesus for the love of god don’t take care of it while I’m standing here—” you were stammering and beyond flustered. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to someone who had just gotten a fucking boner by looking at you, sweaty in a sports bra, while sucking a cream colored substance off the tip of your pinky?

You exhaled deeply, eyes still closed. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go to your room. I am going to finish cooking my dinner. You will be absolutely silent until you hear me leave. I will be staying at the condo for the next week. You will either ration the leftovers or fend for yourself, I do not care. Got it?” You signed out again, eyes flicking open. Johnny held his bundle of clothes in front of his legs and nodded his head once, not bothering with any comeback before he shuffled to the guest room and shut the door quietly.

It took another twenty minutes for the meat to finish cooking and the dish to be full prepared. How you managed to keep your head empty and shut off your internal monologue during that time, you’ll never know, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You packed two servings into a Tupperware container for yourself before shoving some clothes in a duffle bag and grabbing the keys to the jeep you hated driving. It was only about ten minutes down the road to the condo, but it was almost fifteen miles, so you figured this was the lesser of two evils. You whistled for the dog to follow you, and it was all too excited to jump in the passenger seat of the car. The farmhouse was now dry of liquor, what with Yunho not making good on his promise a month ago and your weekly wine dates with Wendy, but you knew the condo definitely had some spirits stashed somewhere in a cabinet. You were going to need that and a nice hot bath to destress after that encounter.

Meanwhile, Johnny sunk down on to the floor inside the guest room, his back pressed against the door. When he heard the sound of the jeep’s engine turning over, he sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair. There were no better words to describe it: he was truly and utterly fucked.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stayed at the condo only for three days, and did little other than sleep, binge watch some TV since there was better electricity and internet here, and eat your way through slightly stale bags of chips and frost bitten freezer dinners that were months old. Because you couldn’t just open the door and let the dog out to run through the property for whatever exercise or bathroom needs it had, you had to actually walk it with a leash and everything. You paid less attention to how domestic the action of clipping the leash on to the collar you’d found in an unopened delivery package on the kitchen table was, and thought more about how slothful you’d felt over the last 60-odd hours of self isolation, especially after two months of working outdoors every day.

It was childish to keep hiding from Johnny. It’s not like you could prove that he’d gotten hard looking at you, and really, shouldn’t you take it as sort of a compliment? (Well, maybe you wouldn’t go that far.)

It was Monday when you returned to the farm, parking the jeep back by the barn and hip checking the door shut after the dog went running off in search of Johnny. It found him carrying pruned branches of trees down to the area where you burned excess brush, and you could hear the excited sound of his voice at the return of the creature as you walked slowly down the hill towards him.

“I missed you! It’s been so lonely without you, but I guess I’m glad your mommy had you with her, huh?” He cooed at the dog, rubbing its face in his hands after dropping the bundle of branches and flopping its ears from side to side. Hearing Johnny refer to you as a mother, even of the animal, had you grimacing.

“Ew,” you said, making your presence known. He stood up suddenly, possibly just a little embarrassed.

“Oh! You’re uh, you’re back.” You nodded, lips pressed together in a flat line. Your hands were full, carrying two takeout coffees from a shop down near the condo you’d stopped at on the way back. You’d forgotten how much the farm felt like a different planet, a different space in time almost, because of how isolated it felt. The act of ordering a coffee to go rather than making it yourself in the morning was equal parts bewildering and soothing.

You had no idea what compelled you to order an iced americano along with the cortado you’d gotten for yourself. You didn’t really know much about Johnny beyond the one conversation you’d had about how he ended up meeting your brother in law and crashing on the farm with you in the first place. But somehow, ordering the drink had felt right, and you thought of it as a potential peace offering to cut the tension.

“This is yours,” you said plainly after some thought, trying to remove any and all emotion from your tone.

He blinked a few times before taking three steps towards you and reaching his hand out to take the drink. He mumbled a soft thank you and sipped without bothering to ask what was inside.

“You’re just going to take the drink a stranger offers you, no questions asked?”

“Ooh!” His eyes perked up when he tasted the coffee. “I mean, I’ve never questioned any of the food you’ve made me so far, why start now? Besides,” he shrugged, taking another sip, “I trust you.”

You snorted. “That’s a stupid thing to do.”

Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.” He nodded to the paper cup in your hand. “What’s your poison?”

“Cortado,” responded curtly, ignoring his comments that were cutting a bit too deep for ten in the morning.

“Ah, a strong espresso pull with a balance of steam milk and a touch of foam. Nice choice. I can definitely appreciate one, but I’m a little too impatient and drink them too quickly— I think that’s why I love americanos so much, because it lasts a little longer.”

You tilted you head to the side, puzzled. “Wait. You… actually know things about coffee?”

“I mean, yeah,” he laughed, “What do you think I spent three hours talking with Yunho about the day we met? I did my time as a barista in college. Free coffee every shift was hard to pass up when you’re doing almost a double course load every other semester. I’ve always been curious about the growing and roasting process, and I know a lot of people do home roasting as a hobby but I just never made the time to explore it.”

Well, duh, you thought, that actually made sense. “Oh god, and here I’ve been making my lame ass bitter pour over all summer— you know how to pull a shot of espresso then I take it? You’ve seen the La Marzocco on the counter, how come you’ve never used it?”

He pouted his lips out in a flat line and shrugged comically. “Dunno. I mean, I’m a guest and a worker first, and it’s not mine, so, I didn’t wanna make any assumptions. But if this is an open invitation to use it, I’m more than happy to accept.”

You chewed on the inside of your mouth for a moment. You could feel it in the air as the hairs on your arms stood up slightly, goosebumps running down your skin. You hoped in wasn’t too noticeable. Maybe this was it— maybe it really was time to extend an olive branch and have more than half a conversation with him every four days. “It’s a little older and sort of temperamental, but it’s still a good machine. I’ll… show you the quirks tomorrow morning, or whenever you want something to drink,” you offered.

It was then that you discovered this: Johnny was not a great actor. He wore his heart on his sleeve. You figured this to be true because he could barely contain the smile that spread across his face, and the energetic nod he gave, and the mild soft exhale (squeal?) of excitement. You rolled your eyes gently and turned away, drink in hand. “When it cools down later after dinner, I’m roasting tonight. You’re welcome to join.”

You gave him the benefit of not bearing witness to the fist pump he made as you walked away.

Dinner that night was stir fried ground pork with carrots and zucchini from the garden served over rice. It was one of your comfort dishes, easy to make and easy to clean up after, since it used only two pans. As soon as you’d finished eating, this time sitting at the table together with Johnny, he’d cleared the dishes and got to cleaning up right away. You stretched your arms overhead and leaned back in your chair far enough to crack your back slightly with a loud pop.

“Oof, that sounded like it felt good,” he laughed from the sink. You hummed in agreement. “So what’d you do before this? Desk job hunched over a computer like the rest of us?”

“Mmm something like that. You may have been bored out of your mind in business, but I sold my soul years ago to work in advertising.”

“Why does that like, fit?” He asked, turning the water off and drying the pan you’d used for cooking by hand.

“You saying I have no soul?” You challenged.

He shrugged. “Hey, you said it, not me. We’re both just cogs in the machine that is late stage capitalism, I guess.”

You didn’t know how deeply you wanted to get into it with Johnny just yet. Maybe eventually, but, not right now. “Yeah, well, I was just a Project Manager, not like a Copywriter or anything. Did you know Yunho was a staff Art Director before he switched to the coffee business full time? We used to work at the same agency a few years back.”

Johnny snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “Ah, that’s right! I remember him saying something about that, made the same jokes about having no soul. You two are a lot alike for not being related by blood.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong; sometimes you wondered if you’d become closer with Yunho that you were with your sister at this point. “Enough about that. If you’re done follow me, it’s probably cool enough to fire up the roaster. I just want to do a test batch of like, five pounds with the regular beans to see how this year’s harvest takes to our standard roast,” you explained, heading to the door and slipping on your sneakers. “Don’t let the dog out, it gets scared from the loud noises and I don’t need it freaking out.”

Johnny dried his hands and followed after you to the barn. You flicked on the lights and went straight for the sink to pull your hair out of your face, wash your hands, and put on a pair of gloves and a mask. Johnny followed your lead, even going so far as to tie up the top layer of his hair on top of his head. “Hey look! It’s like an apple,” he bobbed his head from side to side to make the tiny ponytail move back and forth, and you couldn’t help but snort as you tried to suppress your laughter.

“Dork,” was all you said. You went to the storage racks to pick up one of the sorted burlap bags of beans and hoisted it over your shoulder to carry it to a metal prep table where you carefully opened it and began scooping out the green beans and pouring them into a bowl on a metal scale that had been zeroed out. “So  obviously you know that coffee is counted by weight in pounds. That monstrosity,” you jerked your head in the direction of the massive eight foot tall machine in the corner of the room, “Can handle up to twenty-five pounds of beans in the barrel at a time. Because it’s so big, it’s best to not do super small batches, otherwise you risk burning the beans. Since I’m going for five pounds, it’ll be okay, but if I was doing any less I’d use one of the table top roasters, since they have a smaller barrel.” You finished weighing out five pounds and handed the container to him to carry.

You continued explaining the full process of roasting and science behind it as you flipped switches, checked that the exhaust was hooked up properly, and set the dials for the heat and time on the industrial roaster before pulling the door to the funnel open and having Johnny slowly pour the beans inside. “God you’re a fucking giant, I always need a step stool to reach that high,” you commented as he made the reach with ease.

You weren’t kidding when you said the roaster was loud when it was running. Thankfully with the size of the machine and this batch, it was only eleven minutes of the two of you standing just a few feet away in case anything went wrong and you had to hit the emergency stop, holding your hands over your ears to block the sound. Johnny began jokingly exaggerating mouthing something out, and you felt almost like friends as you laughed at his antics. You were never the best at reading lips. Especially not Johnny’s, they were too full and distracting on their own for you to make sense of the mouth shapes. When the machine came to a grinding halt and the noise suddenly stopped, he was still shouting words and his voice echoed around the space in the absence of the noise, “I said, I think you’re— oh, wow, that was fast,” he quickly diverted, catching himself from finishing whatever it was he was about to say.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of trying to pry out of him what he was in the process of saying under the protection of the loud noises. You shook it off mentally and showed him how to remove the beans from the roasting chamber. “So you take them out like this, and then they’re still going to be warm for a while, so it’s best to let them rest for a bit. If you were to brew them right away, the flavor might not be what you’re expecting, so if you wait for them to sit for a few days, you’ll notice a considerable difference in the flavor profile—”

You stopped suddenly, a sound in the distance suddenly registering to you. You left Johnny standing there with the roasted coffee in hand and trailed to the edge of the barn and then you heard it more clearly— the sound of the old rotary phone ringing. “Oh, shit,” you swore and took off running back up to the house. The only person who had the number for the landline other than Wendy were Yunho and your sister. Wendy didn’t call you outside of your Thursday night appointments. You did the math in your head— it was the end of June, your sister’s due date wasn’t til the end of August, but early labor was always something you’d heard about, especially with more than one baby.

Hands shaking, you got to the phone on what could have been the last ring and panted out a greeting of Yunho’s name, already knowing it was him.

“Oh thank god you answered, I’ve been calling for the last twenty minutes, where were you?” He chastised immediately. You felt uneasy at the tone in his voice.

You stammered in response. “I— we were in the barn, I was roasting so I couldn’t hear the phone— what’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Yunho sighed out heavily and was quiet. “She’s going to be okay, but there was a… scare,” you could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I don’t want to not tell you either. She slipped getting out of the shower, landed on her hip. Started having lower abdominal pain right after. We thought maybe it was going to be now, but, she’s fine. The doctors think they were phantom contractions? Whatever they were they’re gone now. The babies are fine, but she’ll most likely be in the hospital until the due date. If she starts experiencing any kind of contractions between now and then, though, they’ll want to induce labor.” You could tell he was still stressed and worried, but you nodded and listened as he explained some of the medical details a bit further. “Anyways, all this to say, the next time I call, it could be to tell you that you’re an auntie.”

From the moment you heard the phone ringing this late at night and calculated that it was almost two in the morning in Chicago, the tightness in your chest had been building. Listening to Yunho speak delicately about your sister’s condition was one thing— you thought it was a sigh of relief when he said that everything was fine, but then it was most certainly not fine when the gravity of his last words really hit you.

“Little Bean are you listening? Is the signal bad? I know the connection isn’t always great—”

You inhaled sharply as the pressure inside came to a head. “Yunho I gotta go,” you gasped out, barely able to make sense of thoughts to get the words out.

Before you could hear his rebuttal you slammed the phone on to the receiver to end the call and covered your face with your hands still in their nylon gloves. Despite standing in an open space, you suddenly felt like the room was spinning and the walls were closing in on you. Out, out, you had to get out—

“Hey, everything okay in here?”

Fuck.

Johnny was standing in the door, a look of concern on his face. You heaved into your hands and choked out a sob, feeling the wetness in your eyes building. No no no, everything was most certainly not okay in here. You shouldn’t have made eye contact, you should have known better, because looking at his face, his stupid perfect face and his genuine care for your wellbeing, it set you free falling over the precipice.

You were spiraling, and hard, and needed to land. It was instinctual, the way you cried out and ran pushing past him before breaking into an all out sprint down the hill to the fruit trees. Your legs barely kept up with the velocity of running at a decline, stopping short of tumbling and falling forward. The only thing that you knew to help this, the thing that had worked for you in the past, and you raced through the grove of trees for the larger one at the very end. It was one of the older trees, well mature and established with its root system, so you could always expect it to produce fruit.

But you’d harvested a large amount of the fruit in the last few weeks from the lower branches, and the only remaining fruit that would be ripe enough for your purposes was on the higher branches just out of reach. Over the sound of your pained sobs, you couldn’t hear Johnny’s approach or him asking what was wrong, your one track mind just trying desperately to jump and reach, fingertips barely brushing on the fruit you were reaching for.

“Hey hey, calm down, what are you—” he started.

“Shut up! Just shut— don’t tell— don’t tell me calm— calm—” you couldn’t make the words make sense, in your head you were screaming don’t tell me to calm down, but the act of translating that into words on your tongue was downright Herculean right now, it just wasn’t happening. Your knees began wobbling and standing too started feeling impossible. The tightness in your chest had expanded to reach your back, and though you were clearly still getting air by the fact that you hadn’t passed out yet, you felt like you weren’t breathing at all. You were crying outright now, tears wet and hot and painful as the sobs escaped your throat.

It didn’t take a genius to figure that you were trying to reach a fruit on a branch just above your wingspan. Johnny placed one large hand against your back gently and reached all the way up, fingers wrapping around what he assumed was the object of your fixation, before twisting and pulling to release it from the tree. “Hey,” he said softly, “This what you need?”

As soon as you made sense of the object in front of you you seized it from his hands, biting directly through the rind of the lemon. A muffled sob came out as your knees buckled and you sank to the ground. The bitter rush of citrus did part of its job, and brought your consciousness back down to earth. But your breathing didn’t steady, and your heart was still pounding, and the tears were still falling.

It wasn’t working, your grounding technique; not like it had the previous times, like the night you’d first gotten the phone call from Yunho saying they weren’t coming, and not like the time you bit into a lemon in the kitchen at work after first getting the phone call that your sister was pregnant, and even the time before that when she told you she and Yunho were moving, or when Yunho had asked you if he could marry your sister. If you were more with it, you would have thought for a moment longer about how all of your largest panic attacks of the last several years seemed to be linked to things about Yunho and your sister. Biting into a whole lemon had been your go-to for years, and suddenly, it wasn’t working.

“Fuck!” You cried out, spitting the lemon into your palms, “Fuck fuck fuck! Why isn’t it— why isn’t it working?!” Your words were absolutely frantic, and you were yelling at yourself more than your companion who, quite frankly, you’d forgotten was even there.

Until you felt a shadow pass over you in the moonlight and a pair of arms enveloping you in an embrace.

The top of your head was pressed against his chest and his hands found their way to the planes of your back and began rubbing soft circles. Softly he tutted out a shushing noise, voice barely above a whisper, steady. “Come on, let it out, I’m right here. I’ve got you, you’re not alone,” he said calmly, “You’re gonna get through it. Try to take a deep breath, that’s good now hold it as long as you can— okay, that’s okay, try again, try to hold on to it and let it out slowly this time.”

You’d never had anyone physically with you and help you through a panic attack before. You’d had them around people in the past, but no one had ever made a move to help you through it— not like this, not like him, not like he was doing right now by attempting to guide your breathing. The one time you had one in front on Wendy, you’d locked yourself in the bathroom and refused to answer her while you came down, and she never pressed you about it afterwards.

You had no idea how much time passed as Johnny held you in his arms, keeping a steady rhythm of his palms on your back and letting you cry it out into the fabric of his shirt, your hands wringing the material so strongly you thought you’d tear holes where your nails were.

One hand traveled to the back of your head and he stroked that too. “I’ve got you, I’m right here,” he said again.

After a longer period of silence, your ears stopped ringing and you could finally make out the chirping of the crickets in the night. You sniffled and rubbed the last of the trails the tears had left on your cheeks into his shirt, mumbling an apology into it.

“Don’t do that,” he said softly, keeping his voice low, almost as if he was afraid he’d scare you off if he raised it any higher. “I mean— haha, don’t apologize. It’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll wash out. If it doesn’t, it’s just a tee shirt, I can always buy another.” His tone was even paced and calm, and in pressing your ear against his chest you could hear the reverberations as he spoke.

The humid summer air was heavy as usual, even this late at night. You don’t know how long you sat there in silence, wrapped in Johnny’s arms listening to his heartbeat, but eventually you acknowledged that your heart was beating in time with his. Whether you liked it or not, he had been the thing to ground you, and not a stupid fucking lemon.

You shifted slightly, making a move to stand, but Johnny stopped you. “Whoa whoa, hang on lemme get ready— okay, hold on to my shoulders, that’s it.” Your fingers dug into his arms as he adjusted his legs and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back and stood up, taking you with him.

“Shit,” you mumbled out, head rushing at the quick movement and the realization that your legs were still bent over his arm, and Johnny was now carrying you. “Hey, heavy,” your words were still soft.

“Mmm, nah, nothing I can’t handle,” his response was easy, dismissive of your complaint, but not in a bad way. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but— anxiety? Panic attack?” You sucked in a breath at the word. You hated that word. That word made you feel weak, even if it was exactly what this was. You dug your nails into his skin slightly on a reflex of bracing yourself, not with this intention of inflicting damage. “Got it. I get it,” he had approached the house and walked to the door, reaching for the handle with the hand under your knees. “I’ve had a few myself. Not recently, but back in college, maybe two or three? Don’t think they were ever as strong as that, though. I tried the lemon trick once, it actually worked pretty well for me. Didn’t make the next time I did a tequila shot all that fun though, couldn’t enjoy citrus for at least a month after that.” His soft laughter shook his chest and you leaned in further. Listening to his voice was comforting. It was keeping you steady. It made you feel safe, and in this moment, you were too tired to think about how you probably should have hated that. “Think you could swallow some water? Rehydrating is important.”

Your head nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna put you down now.” He used his foot to push one of the chairs away from the table and set you down on to the seat gently. The dog was immediately at your knees, whining lowly and attempting to give as many kisses as you’d accept. “Here,” he said gently, crouching down in front of you and holding a glass out. “Drink what can, but not too fast. There you go, that’s it,” his large hand clasped over your knee, thumb rubbing circles on the side. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” you rasped out, voice raw from all the crying earlier.

Johnny smiled softly. “Good, that’s good. Okay, I think you need to get to bed, yeah? Or do you wanna take a shower or something first?” You shook your head. “Okay, just washed your face then?” You nodded. Your conscious monologue was returning, but bringing words from your mind to your mouth was still proving difficult. Johnny didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered you his hand. “Need help getting up?”

You answered by gripping on to his hand and using his shoulders to help you stand up. Johnny walked you to your room, holding his arm out for you as a guide. You were able to bear weight on your feet now, and though your steps were slow, you made it to the bathroom to wash your face and and change into sleepwear. Johnny waited by the door, averting his eyes for privacy for you, and returned to your side to help you into bed.

When he leaned over you to pull the sheets up, you reached for his wrist and asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

His face went blank before it softened into a smile. “Because. I told you earlier, didn’t I? You’re a good person. Should be simple as that, yeah?”

You didn’t have a response for him, only shifting deeper into the pillows. He turned off the light and retreated to the door frame. “Try and get some rest. Call me if you need me, okay?”

Your head managed a nod, and Johnny finally left, leaving the door to your room slightly ajar. You listened for the sounds of him milling about the house, his footsteps softly shuffling against the floorboards, a few mumbled words to the dog that followed at his heels, until you finally fell asleep.

When you dreamed that night, you dreamt of him, the sound of his voice, and the way your blood felt on fire whenever he looked at you and smiled.

✧ ✧ ✧

Johnny never asked you about the panic attack.

He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t ask what caused it, he didn’t even allude to it in any conversation over the next week. The next day he was just a little bit more gentle with you with the tone and volume of his speaking voice, but when you showed no signs of still be affected from the previous night, he let it go and didn’t bother you about it.

You couldn’t tell if you loved him or hated him for it.

Confusion on your feelings aside, as June came to a close and the morning of July 3rd came, you woke up to the sound of the espresso machine running. Johnny had very quickly proven that he was worth his salt as a barista, even though it had been several years, and had a very nice shot pull. He even figured out the steamer, which was the most finicky part of the machine, and had been making you cortados every morning. That’s what you were sipping now from a metal camper mug, as you walked with him to the shed.

“I think that all that’s left is nailing down that last sheet of roofing and then we’re done,” he hummed cheerfully, inspecting the building. It looked brand new, a marked improvement from the broken windows and bleached paint job it had sported two months ago.

Two months. Was that really how long he’d been here? You didn’t want to think too much about it, about how those two months gone meant you had reached the half way point, and that there were about two months left.

Two months…

“We should celebrate,” he said suddenly, and you looked up puzzled.

“We?”

“Sure!” He exclaimed, “I had no idea what I was doing. I just did what you told me to. This was one of the biggest projects for the summer, right? And plus, not that I care too much for the holiday, but won’t there be fireworks and stuff for the Fourth? Come on, this house has been dry for weeks, let’s go get some booze and live a little, huh?” He prodded your side with his elbow and began needling at you, saying huh, huh, huh over and over until you groaned and relented.

“Fiiiiiine, let’s go before the stores get crowded when everyone realizes everything’s gonna be closed tomorrow.”

The dog was less than pleased that you’d sent it back into the house when you picked up the keys to the jeep. Usually you took it with you, but this time you decided against it, since you weren’t sure how the liquor store would feel with you bringing the stray dog off leash into the store with you.

“All you, big guy,” you said to Johnny as you tossed the car keys at him.

“Aren’t you gonna ask if I know how to drive first?” He quipped back quickly while walking to the driver’s side.

“Nah,” you shrugged comically, hoisting yourself up by the frame of the car. You buckled yourself in and watched as he did the same and adjusted the mirrors for his height. “Besides,” you looked down to inspect your fingernails as if they were the most fascinating thing on the planet, “I trust you, or whatever.”

“Bit of a stupid thing to do, but alright,” he smiled, echoing your words back at you. “Kidding, I’m an excellent driver. Alright, co-pilot! You have the most sacred duty bestowed upon you—”

“Navigation?”

“No, music selection, duh,” he scoffed and handed you the aux cord and pulled out a cell phone you’d never seen him hold before. You stared at the device as he unlocked it and pulled up his music library. Johnny noticed your surprised expression out of the corner of his eye. “What, it’s not like I have a use for it out here. Your wifi sucks and I’m not about to rack up a huge cell phone bill, so it stays off in my duffle bag most of the time. Anyways, this is a test! Pick whatever your heart desires.” The smirk on his face was beyond mischievous as he handed it to you.

You sighed and settled into the seat and began scrolling. What to pick, what to pick…

Surprisingly, there was a decent number of songs you recognized, and one album in particular you were a fan of. You scrolled down the track listing to about the half way point and pressed play.

The sounds of The Killers and the familiar guitar chords that were practically sewn into your DNA began to filter through the speakers. Johnny smiled and started clapping as the car reached the bottom of the driveway and he flipped on the turn signal. “Oh my god, Mr. Brightside, excellent choice! Okay, you passed the first test. But do you know the words?” He teased.

You gasped in feigned offense as the lyrics came to the chorus, and as he accelerated up to speed you began to belt the words out as loud as you could manage. For once you weren’t thinking about how you hated that the jeep had no top while the wind whipped past you on all sides as Johnny sped down the highway. As the song played, the magic high of belting the words to something fifteen years old that were still imprinted in your brain didn’t seem to wear off like you’d expected it to.

“Alright, chop chop what’s next maestro!” He called over the sound of the wind as the song came to a close. You already had something queued up, something a little more recent, and you smiled as the words to the next song began filtering through the speakers, letting the music carry the drive and not belting along with it this time. You tried to not think too deeply about the lyrics of the chorus as it played.  

'Cause you're the last of a dying breed Write our names in the wet concrete I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me? I'm here in search of your glory There's been a million before me That ultra-kind of love You never walk away from You're just the last of the real ones

As the bridge played and you neared your destination, Johnny tilted his head towards you while keeping his eyes on the road. “Growing up, it was like, a badge of honor as a Chicago kid to have gone to a Fall Out Boy show when they still played the smaller clubs. I snuck into one when I was 16— it was an 18 and over show— felt like I was hot shit when I got away with it.”

“Don’t know why, but you don’t strike me as a Fall Out Boy fan,” you admitted. From your scroll through his music library, you saw most of their discography saved to his phone.

“Hey, I had my embarrassing wannabe emo phase too.”

“Had?” You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing. Johnny didn’t give a response to that one, and as another Fall Out Boy song played through the speakers you let yourself rest in a comfortable lack of conversation, instead sharing the music with him as he drove. It only took to the end of that third song to reach your destination and based on how he handled the drive and parking, true to his word Johnny was an excellent driver.

Johnny followed you closely once inside, his eyes scanning up and down the shelves of the tiny liquor store before he reaches and picks up a six pack of pilsner. “You ever try this one?”

Your nose wrinkles in disgust. “I don’t do beer.”

Johnny blinks twice in response and plops the six pack back down on the shelf. “Noted. What do you drink?”

“If I’m picking?” He nods. “I’m a slut for rosé or champagne. Any sparkling wine, really, it makes me feel fancy and you get to turn basic days into little celebrations.” You follow him as he walks down the aisle to where the selection of wine was shelved and starts looking through the options. “Hang on, you’re not gonna grill me about the beer thing?”

“You say that like your friends usually give you shit for it.”

You crossed your arms and shuffle your feet underneath you. “Well, yeah. Usually.”

“Then I would say,” he trails off for a moment, bending and squatting to see a label on a lower shelf before picking up two bottles of the same brand, “You need new friends. Or that your current ones need to learn boundaries, take your pick. How’s this look for one option? Since this is a celebration and all,” he says with a wink.

Leaning forward, you study the label on the bottle for a moment before nodding in approval. You agree to his point that since they were 15% off if you bought six or more bottles, it only made sense to buy more, and besides, “It’s not like you won’t drink them eventually when you’re on the phone with Wendy.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that. “How do you know her name?”

“I’m quiet not deaf, and you’re louder than you think you are,” he says matter-of-factly before heading to the cashier to pay for your selection. You bite your tongue then, hoping to whatever deity was watching you (and probably laughing) that he’d overheard one of the conversations that wasn’t about Wendy insisting you should bone him.

Johnny picks the music on the way back, opting for some Bleachers and Paramore now that he knew at least part of your music taste and how it aligned with his.

Your new selection of wine goes into the fridge as soon as you get home, and Johnny heads to the shed with a ladder in hand to climb on top and finish nailing down the roofing. You opt to help with this task, spotting from the ground and continuously yelling for him to ‘be careful’ and ‘you better not fall and break your neck while I’m watching’. It takes a little over an hour, and it’s late afternoon when he finishes, but when you climb the ladder yourself as he holds it steady from the ground to inspect his handiwork you have to say you’re impressed.

“You sure you never did construction work before? You’ve got shockingly good craftsmanship for a newbie.”

“My dad’s pretty self sufficient so he was always doing the handiwork around the house. Picked stuff up here and there from him growing up, but anything I didn’t know I could just look up on the internet.” You shoot him a pointed look. “What! I said your wifi was shitty not that I didn’t use it every now and again. There’s a YouTube tutorial for everything these days.”

Johnny insisted on cleaning up the last of the debris on his own while you worked on dinner— another pasta dish, orecchiette broccoli rabe, and while that was cooking you boil a pint of blackberries with water and sugar to make a flavored simple syrup. Since you were celebrating tonight, it only felt right to put in a little extra effort even to the drinks of choice. Kir Royales were typically made with a blackcurrant liquor, but it was a niche product you hadn’t found in the store, so the syrup and a slice of lemon for garnish would have to do.

While you waited for Johnny to finish up and take his shower (after the last time, you gave him plenty of space out of an abundance of caution whenever he showered), you started rummaging through the pantry cabinets and making sense of the dry ingredients you had on hand. You had time to kill, why not make a dessert with it?

You hadn’t talked about it much with Johnny, but you actually did enjoy cooking and baking. Something about spending time and energy making something and having someone consume it and tell you they liked made you feel good. You still remember the first time you made breakfast for a hungover Wendy in college and she raved about it for days, though you were pretty sure back then it was because the carbs soaked up the remaining alcohol in her system and stopped her from puking.

Dinner was finished when Johnny finally came out of the shower, this time fully clothed and his hair more dry. You explained that you’d gotten bored and made cookie dough but the oven hadn’t finished pre-heating yet so nothing was baked.

“Fuck it, cookie dough is always better than the cookies themselves,” he shrugged.

“But salmonella—”

Johnny held up a hand jokingly as he stopped your interjection and turned off the oven. “Still convinced that’s a myth parents made up to stop kids from actually enjoying childhood. Plus it’s hot as balls, chill the dough while we eat and then it’ll be even better after. Plus, you haven’t poisoned either of us yet, I think your track record is pretty good so far.” (There he went again, referring to you and him as an ‘us’.)

So you did just that, putting the cookie dough into the fridge and taking your dinner outside with the cocktails you’d made. You didn’t have any wine glasses here at the farm house— after breaking one stemmed glass during your first phone call with Wendy you’d moved the rest to the condo and replaced the drink ware with mason jars because the clean up was too annoying. Plus, you didn’t want to risk the dog stepping on stray shards of thin glass and getting them stuck in the pads of its paws. (You were still decidedly apathetic towards it, but that didn’t mean you were cruel).

So it was in the wide mouth Kerr jars that you poured your blackberry syrup and a half a bottle of champagne, after a comical exchange of Johnny insisting he wasn’t scared of the pop! that corks made coming out of pressurized bottles and the yelp he let out anyways when it happened as expected. The lemon slice garnish was more of an aesthetic touch than anything but you liked it nonetheless.When Johnny pulls out his phone for the second time that day and insists on playing music and making a dramatic toast before you could drink, you could only laugh and agree.

“To the best Boss I’ve ever had,” he said with a raised glass, “Even though you used me for cheap labor and to do all the hard shit.”

“Rude! I cook every day, look at all the chances I’ve had to poison you and how many times have I done it? Absolutely none because I am a saint and you know it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the music, the low hum of crickets, the starry night sky, or the summer heat that did it, but time flowed so easily, and so did the conversation and teasing banter. Over the course of one meal you’d exchanged more words with Johnny than you had in the whole two months you’d known each other. Two hours later and you’d finished all the dinner (of course there were no leftovers, Johnny was still Johnny, but the amount of manual labor he did in a day made sense of how much he usually ate, you’d come to realize). The bowl of cookie dough was now sitting on the step of the lanai and you and Johnny were side by side on the deck, looking out over the farm and taking the occasional spoonful of dough into your mouths. He was right— the dough did taste better than the baked cookies probably would have, especially after it had chilled for a bit. With the way the stars and moon were hung in the cloudless sky, you could see the soft glow of their reflection in the water beyond the highway and the cliff leading to the beach.

“You ever go down to the shore?” He asks suddenly, and it feels out of nowhere and like he’s inside your head because how else would he have known you were just thinking about the ocean? But then you register that Andrew McMahon’s voice has just crooned something about Venice Beach and the California summer in the music that had still been playing through the speakers of Johnny’s phone.

You hummed for a moment before answering. “Not really. I should make more time for it, but I rarely ever leave the farm, as you probably noticed. I know this place is paradise for so many people, the vacation destination on a lot of bucket lists, but I think my… circumstances made me bitter towards the island, conceptually speaking anyways.” You watched the water with a bit more focus as a few waves crested, but you couldn’t see enough of the shore to see them actually crash. “I know I don’t talk about it much but, I needed a break from my work too. That’s… part of the reason I’m here, why I was waiting for my sister and Yunho to come out. It’s a much less interesting story than yours, so I won’t bore you with the details,” you wanted to reroute the subject before any questions started getting asked, but deep down you knew Johnny wasn’t going to press you for anything you weren’t ready to share. He’d figured that much out about you anyways.

“Anyways, maybe you’re on to something, Seo. Maybe I should take some time to actually relax a bit, seeing as now that I’ve tricked you into finishing the most difficult and time consuming of the summer projects Yunho had planned,” you stuck your tongue out between your teeth jokingly in an effort to mask the vulnerability you’d briefly shown.

Johnny took the hint and changed the subject. “The Killers, Bleachers, Paramore, Fall Out Boy… not saying I don’t like your taste in music, but I’m surprised it’s your picks were so astoundingly pop-punk-rock. Woulda taken you for a—”

“If you finish that sentence by saying ‘country kinda girl’ I’m locking you out tonight and taking the cookie dough with me,” you warned.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, you strike me as too high strung to enjoy country. Like it’s typically too slow for your tastes, or something like that.”

“Oh I’m obnoxious about my taste in media, if you couldn’t already tell. I’ve listened to mostly the same artists for the last ten years. In high school I was that kid that thought making it known that I ‘didn’t listen to the radio pop main stream’ was a personality trait, whatever that meant.”

“Oooh, so edgy and mysterious, did she used to cut her own bangs too?” He giggled into his mason jar, taking another sip.

“Nooo, that was only one time and I swear it was on a dare and not because of a break up!” You jokingly wailed out, throwing your head back in exaggeration. “Although I do regularly trim Wendy’s bangs for her because she can’t be trusted with sharp objects. Knives, needles, scissors, none of it, girl’s a total klutz,” you took another sip and uncorked the bottle again to refill your jar. You held the remainder up for Johnny to see, silently asking if he wanted a top off to finish the last of the second bottle you’d opened.

Johnny was a big guy— tall and muscular, you were sure it would take him a bit more than a bottle or two of shared champagne to get him tipsy. That’s why you didn’t think too much of it as he stared into the reinvigorated fizzing bubbles as he quietly said, “I’d like to meet her someday. Wendy, I mean— you talk about her so fondly, she seems like a great person. Like she’s good for you in your life.”

Why did you feel a little uneasy at the way he spoke about Wendy? He had no idea what she looked like, it was only from the stories you’d been telling that he knew anything about her. And it wasn’t even the real her, it was just her as she existed to you, so what was there to be uneasy about? You were overthinking again, so you had to come up with an answer to fill the silence you’d created— “Yeah well, Wendy’s sick of dick, she’s very bisexual and I’m pretty sure she’s head over heels in love with this Joohyun she started seeing recently, she’s just too much of a chicken shit to tell her how she feels,” you hid behind you glass and drank deeply, not minding as the floating slice of alcohol soaked lemon rested against your nose.

“Sounds familiar,” Johnny said quietly. “I… can relate, I think,” he mumbled out, and you glanced over in time to see him place his now-empty cup on the wood beside him. “Sometimes you just feel the way you do and you don’t really have a reason for why, but you can’t even put it to words to the person it matters to.”

This time when your breath caught in your throat, it wasn’t because of a mounting attack, but in anticipation of what Johnny would do next. The space between you had slowly waned as you’d been drinking, your bodies inching closer to each other without you even realizing it, almost like the way the moon pulled the tide to the shore over and over again. When your eyes traveled from where his hand was pressed into the deck flooring up to meet his hooded gaze, you don’t really know what you were expecting, but Johnny’s parted lips shining slightly (probably from that last drink of wine) was not it.

You knew this feeling. This was when you were supposed to lean in, right? That’s how this usually went. Your hand shifted closer towards his for a moment and then pulled back, and the end joint of Johnny’s fingers flexed as he pressed his fingertips into the deck.

You didn’t lean in. Your heart was hammering in your chest far too loud for you to be able to do so; instead, you look away, his eye and his lips and his face and his everything suddenly too much, and your turned your cheek to him instead.

Instead, he leaned in, and for just a brief moment the crickets stopped chirping, the distant ocean stopped moving, the music stopped playing, and your heart stopped beating as Johnny’s perfectly pouty lips pressed against your cheek, and then your temple, and then your throat. And then his head tilted down and his nose brushed against your skin delicately, leaving a trial of burning in its wake, and time didn’t start turning again until the snort of his laughter broke the silence and he fell into your shoulder in a giggle fit.

It took all of your patience and self control to make your lungs continue to function as you listened to Johnny giggle so much he stopped making sounds until he was spewing out between fits of laughter ‘The bubbles make everything funny, why is everything funny with bubbles?’

‘Why indeed’, you wondered silently, letting the clearly tipsy Johnny rest his head on your shoulder as he continued his giggle fits, stroking the palm of your hand against his back as he’d first done for you under far different circumstances, trying to not think about how much faster your heart was beating while doing so, and how if your accelerated heart rate was from his proximity to you, you didn’t mind.

How long did you stay like that, in such a familiar embrace with Johnny? Long enough, it seemed, for the playlist on his phone to come to an end and for him to start dozing off while resting against you, his light snores the thing that finally made you disturb him so you could go back inside. It was late anyways, nearing midnight you said softly and you tried to wake him gently—

A surprisingly loud boom shook the sky followed by a burst of light and color. Immediately the dog inside woke up and started barking, and Johnny bolted upright, eyes darting around in search of the source of the noise that had disturbed his snoozing.

“Fireworks,” you breathed out, more to yourself than to him. “Guess it’s midnight already.” Johnny didn’t say much, but his eyes twinkled as he watched in earnest as a few more went off before you tugged on his sleeve and insisted that he needed to make his way to bed and sleep. There were sure to be more tomorrow, and he could watch them then.

You didn’t sleep for hours that night. After helping the mildly intoxicated Johnny to his bed, you sat on the floor of your room, knees pulled into your chest and a hand laying flat against your cheek where he’d planted his trail of kisses. “He was just drunk, he’s just a flirty drunk, that didn’t mean anything,” you repeated to yourself over and over again.

But something about the way Johnny’s lips felt against the apples of your cheek and the hollow of your throat when he’d been nuzzling against you stayed with you all night long, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a flame where your heart lived. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and inhaled deeply, breath shuddering on the exhale.

Against all your hopes and intensions, Johnny Seo had slowly chipped his way through your armor and into your heart.

You had to get him out. Fast.

tbc.

—

author’s note | Me: this first part is gonna be like, I dunno, 5k? 6k? Also me: writes 19,000 words. We call this ✨processing your own trauma through writing as an outlet✨ Originally this was going to be one really long one shot and then I decided to split it up for ratings purposes because I am a thirsty whore for Youngho. The ending is rushed but honestly I was so sick of editing and overthinking this lmaooo. No I have not spent a summer living in Kona working on a coffee farm. Most of my coffee knowledge is second hand from the time my brother in law bought a coffee farm and started a roasting business because my sister dared him to by saying “do it you won’t” (an exact quote I shit you not). There’s more to this story and uh I dunno I’ll maybe post it eventually if people don’t hate this one *shrugs*

[thedeathdeelers]

Trevor doesn’t remember when he first starts thinking of his bandmates again. His dead bandmates, that is, and just thinking the word dead makes him want to curl into the fetal position all over again like when he was seventeen. He thinks he starts remembering them when a decade has passed and Carrie is born. He was twenty-seven and there was this little baby with big eyes and small pink fingernails in his arms, when he thinks ‘She’ll never get to meet her uncles.’ He doesn’t cry then, but it’s almost as if his baby girl can feel his sadness because she starts screaming in his arms and it's enough of a distraction that he rocks her to sleep without thinking of the boys again that day.

He keeps them locked away in the back of his mind for the better part of five years until kindergarten rolls around and little Carrie with her curly pigtails and glittery Hello Kitty backpack comes home excitedly talking about her new best friends.

“Daddy, they are so cool! Flynn has dinosaur stickers and she gave me one. See!” She points to the top of her right hand where there’s a green pterodactyl cartoon sticker firmly slapped on. “And Julie has this huge purple crayon and she let me use it to write my name!”

At first, he’s beyond excited. His little girl made friends on her first day, which shouldn’t have been such a surprise now that he thinks about it since she has always been a little go-getter. Still, he ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ at the right moments as she talks his ear off about her new friends. By the end of the first week, Carrie has decided she wants to invite her best friends over for a small back to school party with just them and lots of pizza. She reminds Trevor three times Friday night not to forget that Flynn likes Hawaiian pizza and Julie likes orange Fanta best, and that he should become best friends with their parents because she’s decided they are all going to grow up and live together.

He laughs and a twinge of ache in his chest reminds him for a moment of a time when he was younger, not as young as Carrie maybe but just as naive. He remembers for a second flashes of running around playing tag at the park and scrapping the top of his thumb’s skin off. He still has the scar.

He can still remember Alex pulling a Batman sticker out of his pocket and taking him to the public restrooms to clean the cut. Alex the worrier, even at twelve, rambling about getting the cut infected and the proper way to tie his shoes and doesn’t he ever think about where he’s walking.

“Bobby! Oh my god, please tell me you don’t need stitches!” He can remember floppy blonde hair and blue eyes and gasping breaths. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt, you idiot, your eyes are watering.”

“Maybe I’m just mesmerized by your beauty, dude,” he can hear himself replying to try and ease the rigid shoulders and deep frown on his friend’s face. “Really, man, I’m fine. Just a little blood.”

“Let’s just get you to a bathroom and wash it off, okay?” But Alex had been hiding his eye roll and curling lips and his shoulders no longer made him look like an awkwardly hanging scarecrow. It was enough to make him forget his thumb was throbbing and dripping blood.

The scrape is deep enough that it bleeds for a while into the sink, he can still picture the reddish water as it goes down the drain. He and Alex had met in the back of their sixth grade English class, Alex was shy and constantly biting his nails while he was just trying to catch a nap without getting in trouble. They’d bonded over a mutual silent agreement: Bobby held Alex’s hand under the desk when he had to read aloud in class and Alex would nudge him with the right answer when the teacher would call him in the middle of a power nap.

“Gatsby is gay,” he can remember Alex whispering to him when Miss Augustine had called him one time in class. He remembers repeating it without a second thought and realizing only seconds later what the fuck he had just said. He remembers wanting to turn to Alex because he knows there’s something important in the interpretation for his friend. He knows it by how Alex sometimes stares at that soccer player, Gabriel, who sits two rows in front of them. He knows by how Alex turns red when the guy notices him staring and the anxious way he strums a beat with his fingers. He wishes he could turn to him and say he accepts him no matter who he loves without saying it because he knows Alex isn’t ready for that discussion yet. But they’re in class so instead he turns to his best friend and gives him an overly exasperated look, hoping it conveys how he has no idea how he’s going to dig himself out of this one but Miss Augustine had smiled and just went about her lesson.

They never talk about it but a few days later, when he plops his copy of the book onto Alex’s desk before class he smiled and says, “You were right. Daisy was totally a beard. Nick and Gatsby were totally in love.” And reading shitty Fitzgerald - who stole more than half of the amazing work written and attributed to him from his wife Zelda, and as a feminist Bobby knows that’s just some misogynistic bullshit he cannot tolerate even for a school grade - is all worth it. Because Alex looks at him with a look of pure joy that makes him feel like he just scored an extra carton of strawberry milk at lunch (and that’s immense happiness because everyone loves that’s pink milk.)

He’s thinking about the park with a bloody thumb when he hears the doorbell and goes to answer it. And suddenly all the excitement of meeting his daughter’s new friends leaves his body as a chill kisses his spine. Nothing prepares him for seeing the girl from the Orpheum staring at him with a taller, blue-eyed man who must be her husband. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, What are you doing here? He wants to ask. Are you a ghost? But before he can, he feels Carrie wiggle her way past him and leap into two pairs of arms. He can just make out black, thick boxer braids, deep brown skin, and a bright mint feather boa above Carrie’s head and he knows he’s just met Flynn. The other arm wrapped around his daughter is attached to a girl slightly smaller than both of them, a huge mass of curls making her appear their height with light brown skin and a wrist covered in macaroni jewelry. And that must be Julie, which means, he looks up to see the parents in front of him - the girl from the Orpheum is her mother and he’s never going to be able to forget that night again.

“Flynn’s parents asked us to take her because they were running late for a dinner reservation they had scheduled months in advance. I hope you don’t mind just us,” the man says with a friendly smile as he reaches his hand out. “I’m Ray Molina and this is my wife, Rose.”

Rose, Trevor thinks as he briefly thinks back on that fateful night. Size beautiful, he can practically see Reggie handing her their band’s t-shirt. He can almost feel Luke leaning his arm against his shoulder and telling her that he’d had a burger for lunch. He didn’t even have to look to know Alex was rolling his eyes at how bad his flirting game was. It was like losing them all over again, only he couldn’t; this was his daughter’s day and he couldn’t wallow in pity. He has to host, so he reaches his trembling hand out and offers the best smile he could offer.

“Hi Ray,” he turns to his wife. “Rose,” he nods and watches as her polite smile fades into a softer one, a genuine one, “I’m Trevor.”

She doesn’t correct him on his name. She doesn’t even look to be affected to be honest, until Trevor leads them inside and she sees some of his awards on the walls. Ray is busy helping to serve the pizza and soda for the girls and it leaves him alone with Rose. She doesn’t mention the award for ‘Now or Never’ new hit single on the Billboard 100 or its being #1 on VH1. Rose doesn’t have to, all she has to do is look at him and Trevor feels himself turning back into the scared kid who showed up at the hospital screaming about his friends. Screaming to the nurses who told him he wasn’t looking for a hospital room, he was looking for the ID numbers of bodies at the morgue. He gives her a slight head shake, as if to plead with her not to bring it up. She nods, but he feels his guilt grow heavier as she leans up to gently smear a line across his name TREVOR WILSON next to the title for up-and-coming artist.

It’s Carrie with her signature giggle and yell that makes them head for the kitchen. “Daddy, can you come sit down! Before we eat we have a surprise!”

They walk in to find Ray sitting amusedly at the dinner table. He beckons them to sit down with him and Trevor can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of him. The girls have obviously gotten into his stage makeup and Carrie, Julie, and Flynn are wearing matching bright red lipstick and glitter on their cheeks. Flynn is sashaying with her boa as Julie holds Carrie’s pink one, and Carrie has her hand on her hip as she strikes a pose before snapping her fingers and triggering the sound system. ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua starts blaring in through the speakers and the three adults share a look. Should they turn off the song? It is highly inappropriate. But to do that would mean having to explain why it’s inappropriate and do they really want to ruin a song that as far as their kids are concerned is about Barbie living in her Barbie world?

“Hey!” Carrie yelps and their heads all snap back to the girls pouting at them, “We are trying to give you a concert! Don’t make us waste all of Flynn’s cool moves!”

“Okay okay,” he shakes his head, “Don’t you have more cool moves to show us, Care?”

“No,” his daughter gives him a dead serious face, “we have limited choreography.” She says it with such a puff of dismay and sass that Trevor can’t help but let out the loudest laugh he has in a while. There’s no way Carrie even knows what she’s saying but she must have heard it when he was on the phone with his agent who was arranging his next music video.

The thought pops up before he can squash it, Alex would’ve loved her sass, he would’ve loved to dance with her. But it doesn’t hurt as much, to think of Alex smiling and dancing with glitter everywhere.

It’s not long until Rose and Ray are laughing along too and the three watch the girls spin, twirl, improvise lyrics, and throw their feather boas around long after the pizza has grown cold. - 🌙 (so this is the first bit and each bit shows how I decided to headcanon bobby met the boys in school and remembering them and leads you to rose confronting him and learning about the boys before her death ahhh ok let me know if it’s ok 🙈)

excuse me this is

really good????

more please 😌

[gstqaobc]

🇨🇦🇬🇧🇨🇦STOP THE PRESSES🇬🇧🇨🇦🇬🇧

STOP PRESS: We thought you'd be delighted to hear that, thanks to members’ generosity, our first advertising about the League for many years in La Belle Province appeared today in the leading newspaper of Quebec City, Le Soleil. If you would like to receive a pdf copy of the ad, please request by return email.   ECOMM 8.5.21 A JUBILEE BLESSING...OUR THANKS... LEAGUE FLAGS - again available LEAGUE TARTAN SCARF - update and last but not least A SPRING SALE OF MONARCHICAL ITEMS PLATINUM JUBILEE MEDAL Our thanks to the many members who told us they have contacted their MP and the Prime Minister’s office to express their support for the issuance of this Medal in the Canadian tradition.  We look forward to hearing of replies any of you may receive; and we ask you keep up the chain of advocacy by thinking of friends to whom you can send our original message, and urge then to participate in our efforts. A BLESSING ON THE QUEEN IN THE IROQUOIAN TRADITION A member of the UEL Association who is a Kanienkehaka Embassador at Large, wrote to the League as follows: Please remember our Mohawk members, who would like to express our good wishes and thanksgivings to our Sister. You may be familiar with our ceremonial blessings, and the thanksgiving address to be offered before all matters; it is an Iroquoian custom:

Next year marks the 70th Anniversary of The Queen’s reign. Our Monarchy has never before seen a Platinum Jubilee! Thus the occasion calls for celebration, thanksgiving and above all, a sense of gratitude and unity. LEAGUE FLAGS NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER AT DISCOUNTED RATE With hundreds of new members in recent months, the League has received a number of requests as to when we will re-issue the League Flag. Part of our Armorial Bearings, it bears a Royal Crown by personal permission of Her Majesty The Queen. Produced for many years by our friends at the Flag Shop, it is ideal for your den or boathouse, a kid's bedroom, college dorm - with grommets so it can if you wish also be flown on a flag pole outdoors Its dimensions are 24 x 42 inches, and it is made of 200d nylon.  We order and keep only a limited stock, so as not to tie up funds in inventory, as it is a specialty item. PRE-PRODUCTION SPECIAL: $85 INCLUDES POSTAGE LIMIT: TWO PER MEMBER If you wish to reserve a Flag (we should receive it in around three weeks) kindly access the League’s online store at https://store.monarchist.ca/en/products and make a “Fighting Fund” donation for $85.  We will know your purpose, and get a Flag right off to you once we have received them.   THE LEAGUE’S TARTAN SCARF Progress Report Thanks to our friend Matthew Rowe, who runs the Prince of Wales-patron Campaign for Wool in Canada, we have located a UK manufacturer who is willing to manufacture scarves in a small quantity by commercial standards. The fine Tartan chosen by you, and designed by our member Carol Martin, will be woven of  wool, sized 180cm (app 70 in) X 30cm (app 11½ in) with tassels of 7cm (app 2 3/4 in). We will approve the cloth material this coming week. It appears a custom label may be expensive given the quantity required - we will do our best to resolve that issue and deal with somewhat tiresome but important details remaining, such as the method of shipping to Canada and potential duty and taxes. It is our hope to come up with firm pricing in June, and shortly after to solicit pre-orders within the price range acceptable to the several hundred members who expressed interest in a scarf.  All of which is to say - we are on track, and look forward to producing and getting to you the League’s first - and long overdue - piece of apparel suitable for both women and men!   AND NOW.... WHAT (SOME OF) YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR... OUR SPRING SALE! These monarchical souvenirs, for one reason or another not suited to our annual Silent Online Auction in September, have been donated to the League in recent months. Many would be suitable for young people to interest them in the Monarchy and history. IF YOU WANT TO PURCHASE AN ITEM/ITEMS, PLEASE CONTACT US FIRST TO MAKE SURE YOUR CHOICES ARE STILL AVAILABLE. WE WILL THEN CALCULATE THE POSTAGE APPLICABLE TO YOUR ORDER, AND GIVE YOU A LIMITED TIME TO PAY ONLINE VIA THE LEAGUE STORE, THE ONLY FORM OF PAYMENT FOR THIS SALE, BEFORE MAKING THEM AVAILABLE TO THE NEXT MEMBER REQUESTING. 1) THREE CORONATION 1953 MAGAZINES The Sphere, Illustrated, and The Illustrated London News, lovingly used condition, each telling the story of the Coronation as only the British can do!  The advertising is fascinating, too. These will be enjoyed as living images and texts describing the beginning of a glorious Reign! $20 2) SIX ROYAL SOUVENIR PUBLICATIONS Maclean’s magazine’s tribute to Diana on her death; Pitkin glossy colour booklet Charles and Diana’s Wedding day; The Queen’s Silver Jubilee Pitkin-sized booklet; another similar-sized booklet by Ronald Allison: The Queen - The Life and Work of Elizabeth II; Illustrated London News Royal Year 1986; Illustrated London Newscoverage of The Marriage of Princess Anne, 1973. $25 3) HMY BRITANNIA POSTER Sized app. 16 x 20 inches, a glossy photographic portrait (2002) of The State Rooms aboard Britannia.  Especially appropriate now that the Yacht is, in a way, to be replaced by the HMS Prince Philip. In a tube with Britannia-watermarked tissue paper and a gold Britannia seal, we suspect it was sold at the resting place of the ship, now a tourist attraction. Some water stains. Will need to be dry mounted to remove creases from rolling, after which it will occupy pride of place in a den, a kid’s bedroom or a man cave! $25 4) A CRAZY FUN ITEM: COLOUR RUBBER 3-D DIANA KEYCHAIN You will never lose your keys with this app 1 3/4 inch high rubberized moulded Diana key chain! We’ve not seen anything like it previously. You might well use it - or display it as a sure conversation-starter on a shelf, perhaps next to a bobbling Queen! $20 5) SILVER JUBILEE MEDALLION & CHARLES AND “LADY DIANA SPENCER” WEDDING CROWN Both 1 1/2 inch diameter. Gold-coloured Souvenir medallion bears profile of The Queen, 1977, with a  surround referencing the Jubilee. The Crown, encased in a plastic holder by the Westminster Bank, is official coinage from 1983, with the usual image of The Sovereign on front, and verso, a profile of Charles and Diana with a surround referencing the occasion and year. $25 

(the mark on the Royal Arms is not a defect, but a seller's sticker that is not on our plate)6) UNUSUAL, RATHER-MODERN IN DESIGN, SOUVENIR PLATE FOR SILVER JUBILEE - BY WEDGEWOOD A heavy 10" plate produced by Wedgewood in 1977, respectful and colourful, but, in our view, not really “traditional” and thus of special interest. A deep blue silhouette of Thhe Queen in centre, surrounded by the Garter motto, with tne lancets extending which depict Heralds, Guardsmen and elements of the Household Cavalry and one Royal Shield surmounted by the Crown. Many decorative flowers, Rim references the Jubilee and states “God Save The Queen.” Crimson tracery surrounds the plate. Condition: as new $35   (The picture is the Van Dyke etching of the King, whose image appears in the framed print offered below)

7) A CANADIAN-FRAMED PRINT OF KING CHARLES ENGRAVING After the original by Van Dyke, the engraving from the original owned by the Earl of Pembroke, it is unusually but attractively framed, we believe in pine, ready to hang, with modern “Art handmade Plaque Canada” sticker on back. The entire object is app 10 x 13 inches, with the engraving proper about 5 ½ x 10 inches. Condition - engraving darkened by age but distinct; frame: excellent; print: slight water-stain foxing at bottom adds authenticity rather than detracting from the overall appearance. $50 8) BOOK: CHARLES & DIANA VISIT CANADA Vivid colour pictures, hardback, published by Collins, and covering many moments from the Royal couple’s 17-day first visit to Canada in 1983.  Condition: excellent. $15 9-14) LIVING HISTORY: DRY-MOUNTED ROYAL PHOTOGRAPHS From the collection assembled by the federal government in Diamond Jubilee year, these are terrifically “usable” as, hard mounted without “frames” they are light in weight - and ready-to hang in your den, or child’s room, or to fill a wall with multiple pictures! All are app 10 x 14 inches b&w unless noted otherwise. We will advise you of the postage cost at time of your inquiry, as this varies considerably depending on your postal code.  If anyone wishes to purchase all seven of these at a favourable price, please contact us immediately. 9.    In colour: Prince Edward in his late teens, a broad smile on his face as he leans against an oak and relaxes on autumn leaves with his Labrador Retriever.    $15 10.    Front cover of Paris Match depicting The Queen returning in the Golden Coach from her Coronation, Orb and Sceptre displayed, and Prince Philip by her side. $20 11.    Princess Elizabeth on the telephone in her office at Buckingham Palace, 1946.        $15 12.    In colour: The Good King, George VI of late, happy and beloved memory, wearing a tan jacket - a reflective portrait on the grounds of Buckingham Palace.    $25 13.     The Princesses Elizabeth & Margaret Rose, probably just after the war, looking ready to go out for an evening in lovely beaded formal dresses. $20 14.    Our favorite of this tranche of pictures. Colour shot of the Royal Family, shortly after the War, in the Palace Gardens. The King, The Queen and the Princesses are seated on wicker chairs - with Elizabeth’s dog beside her. This happy family - “we four” - exemplifies the bequest of a happy, close family life that made our Queen such an extraordinary person. $30 15.    Colour 3/4 length study of a beaming Princess Elizabeth, hands clasped in front, on her 19th birthday.    $25 16.    The shade of the Abdication not yet visible, this 1936 picture shows the future King and Queen as Duke & Duchess of York at the door of their Piccadilly residence, with a serious-looking Elizabeth holding her Mother’s forearm. $25  

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE BEING A PROUD MEMBER OF THE MONARCHIST LEAGUE OF 🇨🇦 CANADA 🇨🇦 

💜🙏🏻🙂✝️💟PG💟✝️🙂🙏🏻💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[quicksilversquared]

The Substitute Ladybug: Chapter 3

After Lila takes things too far and Marinette ends up with a broken leg, Paris is going to have to deal with a different superhero arrangement for a bit. Having to share her superhero identity with her parents before Hawkmoth can be defeated isn’t something that Marinette had planned on doing, but- well, it might end up being a bit of a blessing in disguise.

links in the reblog

The news of the incredibly short akuma fight didn't take long to spread through Paris. There wasn't much footage of it, only what the night news anchor had managed to shoot from inside of the building before getting hit himself, but the guards and everyone living nearby had seen how Coccinelle and Chat Noir had worked together in perfect tandem, practically anticipating the akuma's every strike.

(They had been anticipating every strike, but that was- well, that was being picky, really, and also the superheroes weren't about to give away their secret weapon.)

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to deter Hawkmoth. He attacked the very next afternoon, and Marinette had to hobble her way out of class for a "bathroom break". Thankfully she was getting faster on her crutches- though she was still being careful, Tikki, thank-you-very-much- so it wasn't as hard as she had worried to slip into an empty closet in the library and transform. Chat Noir was already out, and it wasn't long before Coccinelle's symbol appeared on Vipera's screen.

"I'd like to try the same thing as last night," Vipera told them, settling herself up in the closet, half-perched against a shelf. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but hopefully the fight wouldn't last very long. On their end, at least. "If there's two quick take-downs in a row, we might be able to unnerve Hawkmoth a bit, and he might take a step back on the akuma attacks."

"Because he would think that Coccinelle and I are an even more formidable team or something and it would be dangerous for him to go up against us," Chat Noir filled in. She could hear the grin in his voice. "Nice thinking. Are you up for using Second Chance a ton of times again, though?"

"Yeah. And if I end up using it more than I planned, I can always take a nap after school." Vipera allowed herself a smile at her partner's concern, then buckled down to focus on the fight, focusing on the news and camera feeds coming from the area. Once again, she was getting some early intel on the akuma, and this one seemed to be an akuma-sentimonster partnership. That by itself made things more dangerous, but if they could figure out the possessed items on one go-round and then she would know already with the reset...?

That could work.

"Or would I need to bother?" Vipera murmured to herself, eyes scanning the scene. The sentimonster teaming up with the akuma was oddly shaped, the perfect size to get stuck if, say, a manhole cover was unexpectedly missing and it tripped in. One solid whack over the head or yank from below would probably wedge it in well enough to remove it from the fight, leaving Coccinelle and Chat Noir to deal with the akuma- and with Mayura, if she had read the flash of blue along the rooftops correctly.

Hopefully it was just Mayura and not Hawkmoth as well. He tended not to come out as often as his blue-skinned counterpart, though the why was harder to say.

Personally, Vipera was of the opinion that it was poor planning. If Hawkmoth had come out with Stoneheart the first time he had shown up, it would have been all over for the superheroes. Instead, he had lurked in his lair (she assumed that he had a lair, at least- maybe he was just lurking in his bedroom) and waited for the superheroes to actually become competent fighters.

That, and Hawkmoth was a coward.

"I don't see any signs of Hawkmoth personally being there," Vipera finished as she relayed everything that she had seen to her teammates. "But I might recommend coming in from below and capturing the sentimonster first, or at least having one of you doing that. It keeps running really close to the manhole cover near the base of the Arc- Chat, you know the one?"

"Yep!"

"You want us to identify manhole cover locations from below now?" Coccinelle sounded incredulous. "I mean, I can see your plan, but..."

Chat Noir laughed. "The maps on our weapons work wonders, really. And we've used that manhole- I'm not going to say a lot, but enough that I'm familiar with it. I just wonder how we're going to keep the sentimonster from pushing itself back up, even if we yank it down to wedge it in."

"Oh, that's easy," Coccinelle said cheerfully. "There's some men over here who have ropes- I'm going to ask if I can borrow one. Then we can lash the feet to the ladder and buy ourselves some time."

"Fantastic." Vipera flipped to another camera, scanning the area. "Let me know when you're close?"

"We've met up and dropped down into the drains," Chat Noir reported a minute later. "Headed towards the manhole cover. Are they still in the same spot?"

"Oddly enough, yeah." Vipera glanced over the area again and- okay, it wasn't hard to figure out why. Apparently even Hawkmoth's seemingly smarter sidekick sometimes made dumb tactical decisions. "Mayura's found a good hidey-hole and so she doesn't want to move. Chat Noir, you know the place where-"

Vipera explained quickly, and it only took her partner a few seconds to figure out the place she was talking about. By the time the two other superheroes reached their manhole cover, the beginnings of a plan had been put into place. Coccinelle would trap the sentimonster while Chat Noir ambushed Mayura from behind. With two of the three threats contained or distracted, Coccinelle could take on the akuma on her own once she popped out of the drain system.

Well. Visibly on her own, at least. Vipera would be keeping an eye on her and Chat Noir at the same time, so she wouldn't really be on her own.

It didn't take long for the superheroes to reach the right sewer, and then Chat Noir moved out and into position. Seconds after he sent his ready signal, the manhole cover twisted and slid out of place, nudged to the side quietly enough that when the sentimonster made its next rounds, it tripped over the loose cover and stumbled straight into the open hole. There was a jerk, and then it started flailing. The akuma abandoned its latest victims as a purple mask flashed around its face, and then it turned towards the trapped sentimonster, clearly worried about already being down an ally. Vipera set her timer, and then focused, mind frantically sorting through all of the information being thrown at her.

Chat Noir's fight, his earpiece set to continuously stream audio. Coccinelle and the akuma battling it out, her audio also on. Keeping an eye on the sentimonster to make sure that it wasn't wriggling free. Switching between video feeds to watch both of them, re-setting and giving instructions and weighing how helpful those instructions were. Making adjustments when things didn't work as well as she had hoped.

At least her teammates weren't bantering with the supervillains. Their audio was limited entirely to quick updates or suggestions for the next go-round, which helped her keep her focus. Chat Noir was entirely serious as he faced off with Mayura, holding his own well enough. He only needed the occasional instruction as he fought, though that was in large part because they weren't actually trying to defeat Mayura, just hold her off.

Four minutes later, the akuma was defeated and the amok-possessed item had been knocked away from Mayura and also purified. Mayura frantically knocked Chat Noir back and fled as the Cure rushed over Paris, and Vipera let her. It wasn't worth another go-round attempt to see if they could defeat her this fight.

"Should I ask how long that took you?" Chat Noir asked breathlessly over the earpiece as he re-joined Coccinelle. "Because I could hear a lot of instructions going on."

"I didn't really keep track," Vipera admitted, slumping on her little strip of clear shelf. She was going to need a nap after school let out, so she could tell that it had been a long time, but- well, she had kind of done that to herself, hadn't she? She had been the one to suggest that her teammates split up, even if she hadn't needed to interfere with Chat Noir's fight that much. "But I'll be fine. Hopefully that'll scare Hawkmoth off a bit."

"Or we'll have a sentimonster, an akuma, and both supervillains out next time," Chat Noir said with a laugh. "Because they'll figure that eventually they can outnumber us."

Vipera snorted. "Then we'll send out Dad. I'd like to see their faces when he comes out."

Coccinelle started giggling. "Oh, that would be funny! And you know your dad would love to help out. I don't know if we could have both of us come out during the day, though."

"Right. That's something to take into consideration." Vipera glanced at her Miraculous. She was almost out of time. "I might have to start carrying backups with me, either that or tell you where I keep them. But we can talk later- I'm out of time. See you later!"

Her teammates called their good-byes, and then Vipera detransformed. She grinned at Sass- even if she was mentally exhausted, they had done a really good job- and then listened carefully to make sure that no one was around before popping out of the closet and heading back to class.

Even though she was still interrupting her day, Marinette was glad that she was still being involved in the akuma battles in some form. It kept her mind sharp, forcing her to keep up with noticing- well, everything- and she wasn't getting distracted in class, worrying about her mom out there battling Hawkmoth when she didn't have the same amount of experience that Marinette herself did.

Marinette couldn't help but smile to herself as she headed back into the classroom and hobbled back to her seat. When she first started being a superhero, she had hated missing out on class to go battle akumas. Now, when she had the chance to sit back while her leg healed and not worry about it... well, she couldn't help but want to still be involved.

  The city was ecstatic about the apparent new trend in akuma attacks. After months of attacks that- with some exceptions, of course- usually took closer to half an hour to clear up, two attacks in a row that were wrapped up in under five minutes was amazing.

It also sparked a lot of gossip about how, exactly, it was being done.

"Well, obviously the weak point was Ladybug," Chloe sniffed at school, inspecting her fingernails as though she was otherwise completely disinterested in the conversation. "She's been replaced by someone older and wiser, who wouldn't do something stupid like take my Miraculous away from me."

Nino snorted loudly. "Yeah, right. If that's the case, then why haven't you gotten the Bee back yet, Chloe?"

"And didn't Chat Noir say that it's just temporary?" Adrien chimed in before Chloe could snap back, probably with the argument that Chat Noir should get replaced by someone, too, because obviously he was the weak link now keeping her from getting the Bee back. "Because Ladybug was out sick or something?"

"Or something," Alya agreed. "He wasn't very specific about it, was he?" She tapped her phone. "The consensus on the Ladyblog is that Ladybug's family is going on vacation and she couldn't get out of it without being suspicious. I mean, Chat Noir didn't say she was sick exactly, did he? Just that she was getting some much-needed rest."

The class considered that.

"So maybe Ladybug will be out for the rest of this week and then Chat Noir will have a substitute so that he can get some rest?" Rose suggested. She shrugged when they all looked over at her. "Maybe Chat Noir was just telling the truth and we're all reading too far into it?"

"I can't see either of them just sitting back and not coming out to the battles if they were in Paris, though," Alya countered. "That's just not their personality, is it? Or at least that's the impression I've gotten from them," she added quickly. "So I think something else is up. If they just wanted to relax, I feel like they would pull out more full-time holders so that battles would go faster."

"Right, and they should choose moi-"

Alix snorted loudly. "Right, give the one temporary holder whose identity all of Paris knows their Miraculous full-time! There's definitely nothing that could go wrong there!"

Chloe scowled.

"Kids, please," Ms. Bustier pleaded, casting a disapproving eye over the class. Everyone settled down, though not without a fair amount of grumbling. "Let's just be thankful that whatever the superheroes have going on at the moment is working out so well, and try to be positive so that we don't add to their workload. I know we're all concerned about Ladybug, but all we can do is hope that she's okay and will be back defending Paris soon enough!"

Most of the class nodded. Sabrina started to, then caught Chloe's furious glare and promptly stopped, shrinking away from her glowering friend.

"Some people on the Ladyblog are already hoping this team becomes permanent, because they've been doing so well," Alya whispered once Ms. Bustier turned around to write on the board. She leaned forward so that Nino and Adrien could hear as well. "Because people are so tired of akuma attacks, and the last two attacks went so fast."

"But the previous- what? Three, four? They didn't go nearly as smoothly," Nino whispered back. "They aren't going to count the most recent two as just flukes for now?"

Alya shrugged, keeping one eye on their teacher. "I don't know. I think it's too early to call. But the fact that there was such a change, and so suddenly- either they've just really found their stride, or something else is going on. And I don't think that we've seen all of the Miraculous powers out there. Who says that there isn't something else going on behind the scenes that's making them fight so well?"

Marinette hid a smile. Ladybug- well, Vipera, technically- was the thing behind the scenes that was making such a change, but they weren't going to tell anyone that until- well, probably until Hawkmoth was defeated. It was much too useful of a tool to give away.

"People are seriously preferring Coccinelle over Ladybug?" Adrien hissed, sounding thoroughly distressed. "I mean, I know Coccinelle is doing a good job, but Ladybug's done so much!"

"Class, I can still hear whispering," Ms. Bustier told the board dryly before Alya could respond. "Please settle down."

Adrien and Nino promptly whipped around to face the front. From her seat, Marinette could tell that Adrien looked somewhat distressed, ducking his head to exchange a few quick words with Nino that she couldn't hear. Marinette frowned at that, wondering what could be upsetting Adrien so much. She knew that he liked Ladybug a lot, so maybe he was offended on her behalf that anyone would think that Ladybug should step down in favor of Coccinelle.

Honestly, Marinette wasn't surprised that that opinion existed, though it did sting a little that people would so easily consider replacing her. She knew that the interest of akuma attacks had worn off for most of Paris, and even the novelty of superheroes was starting to ebb. People wanted to know why they hadn't defeated Hawkmoth already, never mind that they were trying and they were dealing with adults who were bigger and stronger. Most people understood that they were trying, at least, and so they liked the superheroes, but others just wanted to be done with the whole thing, no matter how it was done.

Marinette could understand that. Even though she sometimes enjoyed the challenge of figuring out how to defeat an akuma and of course she loved the freedom of swinging around the city, having to interrupt her day to deal with the akumas...well, it got old for her, too. So now that people were seeing an older superhero all of a sudden and the fights were going really well and they didn't know the real reason why. Of course they would assume that the change was due to the change in superhero lineup.

Hopefully they wouldn't openly protest Ladybug's return, once she was well again. That would be disheartening.

The rest of the day flew by. Adrien and Nino flanked Marinette as she moved from class so class to keep her from getting jostled, and while there was a lot of talk and speculation about the superheroes, the teachers kept most of it under control. They were there to learn, as Madam Mendeleev rather testily pointed out when she caught Alya whispering with Alix mid-class, and not to gossip about what the superheroes were or were not up to. That could wait until after school.

Besides, she had added, people were gossiping far too much for a simple two fights in a row that had gone well. That hardly provided enough data for anyone to call it a trend.

Thankfully for Marinette's sanity, Alya had to go babysit her sisters right after school and so couldn't lead the continued discussion on what might be going on with the superheroes. She had tried inviting Marinette, but one comment from Marinette about the wisdom of combining Alya's rambunctious sisters with Marinette's broken leg and crutches had Alya backing off right away.

Which meant that Marinette was free to go home and catastrophize on her own, a day's worth of whispers and overheard gossiping enough to make her start doubting everything.

"I thought you seemed to brush off that comment earlier, no problem," Sass commented as Marinette tried and failed to pace on crutches before flopping down on the couch, wincing as her leg got jostled a little more than she had intended. "Because it is dumb that people are being so impatient with the superheroes. You and Chat Noir have gone through a lot of struggles recently! You've lost Master Fu as a mentor and your temporary holders got outed. Hawkmoth and Mayura solved whatever weird energy was polluting Duusu and the Peacock, and now they're stronger. Now you've broken your leg! And still, you've found solutions and you've kept going. I'd say that most people would have lost the battle by now."

"Yeah, but..." Marinette sighed. She hadn't wanted the comments to eat at her, but they had. "The fights, with any luck, will keep going like the last two. People are going to get used to short fights, and then I'm going to come back out all out of shape, and things- well, things are going to take longer again. And people are going to talk. And if we don't give away our secrets, then people are going to assume that I'm the weak link. It's a no-win situation." She slumped a bit more, than attempted to straighten. "And the public doesn't know about all of the other stuff we've had to deal with, either. All they see is Hawkmoth and Mayura coming out and us not managing to defeat them, even though they're right there and not hiding like they did before."

"If they're reasonable, they'll have to admit that fighting up to four times as many supervillains as you did before will be harder, and you can't be expected to do four times as much work with just two of you."

Marinette sighed. "Yeah, but- okay, so I've read the Ladyblog, and people are confused about why we haven't pulled out the temporary holders we had before and keep them on more. I don't think there were many people in this area of Paris who didn't get hit by Chloe's bees, so nobody besides her and Hawkmoth and Mayura actually know that people's identities got revealed."

Sass considered her. "Did you tell your temporary holders?"

"Of course! I didn't want them to get upset that we passed them over when we need to get out those Miraculous next time. They were angry at Chloe, but I asked them to please try to let it go, because I really didn't want to have to fight any of them right now." Even the thought of it was completely awful. "And they listened, thankfully."

"Hmm." Sass gave that some thought. "Perhaps you could assign them different Miraculous? Either that or assign them the same one but require that they have a vastly different look and a different name. Could you use them again then- and perhaps assign some of them as permanent holders?"

Marinette immediately made a fact at the thought, though she certainly didn't mean to. "Honestly? Maybe I could re-use them as temporary holders, but I wouldn't dare give any of them the Miraculous permanently. Some just haven't been out enough for me to get a good read on them, of course. Chloe is a hard no and should have been a no from the start. Alya... she's my friend, but she also has the Ladyblog and not the greatest filter about what should and shouldn't go online sometimes. And she's gotten Akumatized, like... a lot. Not Mr. Pigeon a lot, but more often than most other people in Paris. She's got a temper. And Nino... well, he's Alya's boyfriend, and they knew about each other before. If I tap him for either temporary or long-term superheroing, he's going to assume that Alya will get to do the same thing and then tell her and then she'll get mad again."

Sass considered that. "That would not be ideal."

"Not at all, which means that I need to find more potential holders." Which was a lot of work, truth be told. Adults had an advantage with the endless power usages and no timer, but a disadvantage in the fact that- well, they had jobs and would be noticed going missing on a long-term regular basis. Teenagers had the limitations of timers, single power usage, school, and parents, when- well, the last of those really depended on the parent in question.

Kagami, for instance, was a strong fighter. She had showed a lot of promise in her time as a superhero. But she had a strict mom and went to an equally strict private school, which meant that she would no doubt get in a lot of trouble if she had to leave class on a rather regular basis. That by itself meant that Kagami could really only be a temporary superhero even if she changed her transformation. Just like the others.

(Besides, even with a changed transformation... well, that still seemed too risky.)

Ugh. This superhero stuff just kept on getting more and more difficult.

Marinette sulked through her after-school snack, trying not to loiter on thoughts of- well, everything to do with the superhero part of her life. Even though she knew how important she still was in the fights, it was hard not to feel a bit down, a bit useless.

She was limited to helping while sitting in a closet or a bedroom, instead of throwing punches and kicks and being there in person.

"Marinette? Did something happen at school?"

"Oh, hi, mom," Marinette said, trying not to sound too down. "No, school was fine-"

"Her friend was saying that some people want Coccinelle to stay, since the last two fights were so short," Sass reported. "And Marinette was dwelling on that."

She gaped at him. "That- that's tattling!"

"But it's important to not bottle everything up, too," Mrs. Cheng told her. She came over to stand by Marinette, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Marinette, you know that we wouldn't be doing so well without you helping. And four-minute battles? That would be completely out of the question without you."

"Yeah, but..." Marinette tried not to sigh. She and Sass had already discussed this, and really, there wasn't much else they could cover.

Still, she filled her mom in.

"-and I don't want to stop doing the short fights, because I know that it's important for you to be able to get back to the bakery, and Chat Noir probably wants to get back to his life, and I don't exactly want to be missing class, either," Marinette finished. "But when Ladybug comes back, I know that fight times will shoot back up again."

"You could keep using some of the techniques that you've picked up now!" Tikki suggested right away. "The using cameras before you go in to figure out the akuma's powers and what the possessed item is from a safe distance, and potentially spotting Hawkmoth and Mayura ahead of time. That's given us a real advantage."

"And maybe towards the end of my time as Coccinelle, we can admit that Ladybug's been watching with another Miraculous and that's why she's doing so well, because you've been helping and directing the fights," Mrs. Cheng offered. "We don't have to say it was the Snake or mention the Second Chance uses, because I can see where you might be worried about Hawkmoth getting ideas from that. But by saying that you've been helping out so much and that's why we're doing well, that's telling the public that the difference isn't necessarily because of me."

Marinette nodded, her mind whirring. That...was a good idea. It was safe, because they could just refrain from sharing too many details, but Paris would know that Ladybug had been a large part of the success that Coccinelle and Chat Noir had been enjoying.

Hopefully that would make her transition back to being Ladybug easier. Of course people would expect a well-trained trio to do better than a duo, even if the third member of said trio wasn't physically present. Maybe there would be people pushing for them to add a third permanent member in the role that Vipera had been filling, but- well, hopefully that would quiet the people who were pretty much ready to swap Ladybug out for Coccinelle. And if not, it would at least lessen their numbers.

For the first time since that morning, Marinette could really relax again, her mind set at ease and no longer veering off the rails catastrophizing. Even though it was going to be weeks until Ladybug re-joined the battles in person again, they had a plan in mind.

And that made all the difference.

[pinkykitten]

meet & greet - part 1

2845: EXILE

synopsis: It’s the year 2845. A year where Earth is in shambles and space is the new frontier. You are sent along with other cadets to a distress call about some type of unknown creature. You are new as an engineer on the ship Shiganshina and you have to work for your boss and leader of your group Levi Ackerman. But remember, in space no one can hear you scream.

pairing: levi ackerman x female! reader words: 3,406(　〇□〇） genre: fluff, space au, series, future au, romance, comedy 

a/n: this is my first au series. my sis is obssessed w the alien franchise and she showed me alien isolation and it was so good she watched it like all the time and she saw markipliers game through so im excited to show yall my idea, hope yall like it. hope u like some sexy space levi cuz i know i do. 

You remembered what your father taught you - how to create with your hands. How in your mind you felt lost and insignificant in this vast existence called space. But he explained to you that you could be so much more. With your help people can depend on you and believe in you and that makes you important. That makes hard work payed off when you are there for someone. 

“Hey rookie, make sure to get those screws in. We don’t want this compartment tearing apart.” Hannes, your co-worker, ordered you. 

You wiped the grease from your forehead. Sweat was dripping down your face. “How many times do I gotta tell you this, Hannes, just because I’m new to this job doesn’t mean I don’t know how to seal a door.” You banged the object and rolled your eyes and the insensitive words of that man. He thought he owned the business. “Besides, once I get enough cash, I can buy my own ship and head on out of here like a-”

“-person’s hair caught on fire,” Hannes chuckled. “We know this. You tell us every time.”

You pushed yourself up to get yourself a cup of coffee. “It’s true though, I’m gonna do.” You bit your gloves off as you scratched the back of your head. “Somehow.” It was difficult finding jobs for engineers. Every thing was growing and getting more modern as the days went by. Now robots took care of things and did what you could do but 10 times faster, better, and more work. Plus, you had limited knowledge, you needed to be trained more but there was only so much your old man taught you. “I already know how I’m going to decorate it and the speed.” You whistled. “That baby is going to go faster than a meteorite.” There were stars in your eyes. It was all you ever dreamed of, ever since you were a little girl. It was all you wanted to do. Build things and be on your own. Making your own rules and being your own person. 

You picked up your wrench and went under the compartment to take a look at its legs. 

“Um, Y/N. There’s someone here to see you.” Hannes said. 

You rolled out from under to see your best friend who is like your little brother, Eren, with his two pals, Mikasa and Armin. “No way! Hey guys!” You ran to them for a hug. “I haven’t seen you guys in like 2 years!”

Eren smiled wide as he brought you aside. “Yeah, its been a while.”

“Why are you getting so tall squirt?” You ruffled his chocolate brown hair. You and Eren knew each other as little kids. His father was a doctor and was acquainted with your father. From time to time they worked together. 

“Must be all that food we eat at the academy!” Armin said with a cheerful spirit. 

That’s when you took one look at their attire and saw all of them wearing their space academy suits and that’s when you knew Eren came here to change your mind. 

You shook your head as you walked away to look for parts. 

“Y/N! Where are you going? Y/N!” Eren called out for you. 

“Nice going really subtle.” Mikasa smacked Armin.

“What?” The little sunshine was lost. 

Ever since Eren got into the space academy he had been trying to get you enrolled as well. It was his dream and all but not yours. You didn’t want to be stuck in a room with entitled brats that think they know it all when they really didn’t. It wasn’t your calling and you didn’t want to go and nothing, nobody could change your mind. 

“Please Y/N, listen up.” Eren helped you pick up the box of parts. 

“Why should I? I can’t believe the only reason you would show up and see your friend is to convince her to do something she doesn’t want to do.”

“That’s not true. It’s not like that,” Eren tried to explain. 

“So you didn’t come over here to change my mind?” 

Eren was silent but then gave in, “Okay, yes. But it’s because we need you!”

“Sure,” you said sarcastically. “Like I’ve never heard that before.”

Mikasa cornered you and slapped her hands on the wall near your face. “Listen to what he has to say.”

“Eren you better come grab your friend before I throw hands on a kid.” You gave a warning look. 

You served them coffee as you sat and talked. “What do you need me for?”

“They’ve seen the way you work. They think you’re incredible and one of the best which you are to me and they want you on their team.”

“What makes you think I’m going to say yes?”

“We got in a call, a distress call from one of Warrior’s ships, Marley. One of our own. It’s a real emergency and it sounds like they are in real distress. They’re far away and on our radar it shows the ship is in critical condition. Warrior is sending people out to rescue those from Marley.” Armin reasoned. 

“And why do you need me? Can’t Warrior do it themselves? They’ve got the people and they’ve sure got the money.”

They go silent and Mikasa places her hand on Eren’s knee. “The call that we got from one of our own said that something on the ship was dangerous to the crew. We need capable men and women on this job. Warrior has you in their files and they’ve been watching you on how you react to things. They feel you are really fit for this job.” 

You shook your head, “no. I gotta get back to reality. I got so much stuff on my mind that I have to do.”

“Wait!” Eren pulled your sleeve. “They’re willing to pay a lot.” 

You bit your lip. You couldn’t resist.

As you walked into the classy headquarters you regretted a bit coming here. Deep down you really didn’t know what danger could they have meant. 

“Hello sir, here is Y/N L/N. She is very strong and highly capable to complete this mission.” Eren saluted to what seemed to be the boss of Warrior.

“Hello there Y/N. We were expecting you,” the man was tall and had short blonde hair. The bangs were split apart and he wore glasses. He gave his hand for you to shake. “I’m Zeke.”

“Nice to meet you Zeke. This a nice place you got here.”

“Thank you, now without further a do I would like to show you the crew that will be assisting you on this mission.”

“There’s more?” You gulped. You were not that spontaneous at working together with others. You had many ideas and usually that clashed with peoples opinions. 

“Yes indeed. You will need the help,” Zeke chuckled. “I’ve seen your work that you do. You’re the one who created that electromagnetic pull to connect and pull together the two trains. I’m very impressed.”

“It’s just, stuff I learned from my pops,” you followed Zeke. Every corner you took amazed you more. Chandelier upon chandelier, buttons leading to new discoveries. You were so curious! 

“I’m sure Eren told you about the distress call and the mission in itself?”

“Yeah, he told me a little about it. It sounds real terrifying. I hope the people are okay.”

Zeke smiled, “that’s why we need people like you that care enough to go save them. Now your crew that you’ll be working on is called the special operation squad, created by their captain of their ship, Erwin Smith.” He gave you a pad to look at captain Erwin’s photo. He looked very handsome and charming. His eyebrows thick and a face of seriousness. You glimpsed over his information and handed it back to Zeke. 

“Looks tough.”

“Indeed he is, he once landed a plain when it ran out of power. It was just falling down to the surface and he managed to let the legs stick out the right moment that it didn’t even have a scratch.”

“Wow.”

“We have Eld Jinn, Oluo Bozado, Petra Ral, and Gunther Schultz. They graduated at the top of their classes. This will also be their first mission.”

You saw their pictures and couldn’t believe one of them was that age.

“We have Hange Zoe, smarty that one. And second in command, Levi Ackerman. He is amazing under pressure and is very strong. He is one of our best.”

You saw his complexion and he had bags under his eyes. Not what you were expecting, “he looks short.” You popped gum in your mouth.

“He is but very, very, scary. And he is going to teach you and be beside you mostly during the procedure just so you can understand and get a taste.”

“I think I can handle this myself besides why would I want to take orders from someone half my size.” You laughed as walked right into Levi. 

He raised his brow, “you were saying.” His voice was deep and gruff and he truly looked like he could kill you.”

“Yes, here is the crew. Special operation squad I want you to meet your newest member Y/N L/N.” Zeke presented them to you. 

You waved awkwardly. They all looked like they could eat you alive. 

Oluo walked over with his hands in his pockets, “I hope you can keep up you little,” he bit his lip and started choking.

“Karma,” you smirked. 

“Don’t listen to that idiot. I’m just glad to have another girl on the team! Yay!” Petra ran and high fived you. 

“Hey what about me?” Hange pouted. 

“Fine you too.” Petra gave her a high five. 

“Sir, if I may have a word. We think we might have found a way to get into the breach. Since the power is down there may be a way we can open the latched door and connect Shigashina to Marley.” Erwin walked Zeke over to the map on the screen.

“Actually that won’t work.” You spoke up.

“Who is she?” Erwin questioned. 

“See,” you pulled the blue print of Marley to the crew. “There is only a limited power left on that ship circulating certain items on it and is whats keeping the ship staying up. Light, vents, door, you get the point. If we try to open the gate to connect the two ships all the power left will go to that door. So instead we go over to Marley and get in our suits. Physically walk to Marley and try to open a small vent or door there. It will be safe because we’ll be hooked. I’ve done it many times...Names Y/N L/N.” You shook Erwin’s hand. “And I’m your newest crew member.”

Everyone cooed and awwed at your ability. It was like you said the best comeback. You looked to see Levi not smile but his eyes did the talking. You could tell he was proud of you. 

“Excellent work Y/N. I knew you were made for this job. Levi, make sure you teach her more. She is already a great learner.” Zeke said. 

Hange pushed you to Levi and you wrapped your arms around his head for support. “I guess you’re my student now. Don’t mess this up.”

You weren’t a fond of this amazing hero Levi. 

“Has she heard the call yet?” Erwin asked. 

“No i haven’t.”

The call was shaky at first but then a girls voice came on, “Hello Warrior. This is Marley in the midst of completing the Warrior program. Day 34. Every thing was fine at first. But then everything went to Hell.” There was a bang in the background. “I don’t have much time and I don’t know if I’ll be alive but we need assistance here, asap! Something is here, its coming and its killing! We need someone quick! Please!” It cuts off with a roar and then silence. 

Your heart is beating fast and you feel faint. You take a seat, “that’s awful.” Were you really ready for this mission? “Why did they go there in the first place?”

“To look for more planets that contain life of course. Isn’t that what its always about.” Zeke explained. 

“Our mission crew, is to rescue Marley and bring as many home to safety. We do our best and we make sure we take down whatever that threat may be so it doesn’t come to the population.”

You ship Shiganshina was being loaded with supplies. Gun were being transported and you almost felt your throat go dry. You tried to keep a tough face but you were never in a situation like this. 

“You okay?” Levi asked. 

He startled you with the suddenness. “Will we be using those?”

Levi saw the fear in your eyes and patted your back, “only if we need to.” He handed you a black space suit. “For you. Put it on, were going to be ready in about 5.”

As you put on the skin tight space suit you began to realize how real this really was. It frightened you and made you want to go back to where it was safe. But you made a promise. Your father taught you to help people and these people needed your help. 

Being and engineer you fell in love with Shiganshina. It was an older model ship but it was redone to look modern. It was bigger than any ship you ever seen that it took more than 20 people to pilot this thing. It was so gorgeous to you every aspect of it. “I’m in love.”

“Did you know that this was the first ship of its kind to be made?” Hange Zoe spat out facts. Zeke was right, she was very smart. 

“It’s so special,” your fingertips grazed the cool metal of the ship. 

Waling into the chilling area you saw the crew playing ping pong and reading. It was announced that the ship took off. You grabbed a coffee and sat next to Eld. 

“Man the way you gave it to Erwin!” Oluo joked. “He looked like he pooped himself!” He laughed. Petra came and sat on his lap. “Don’t act like you’re so cool. You always copy Levi.”

Gunther almost died laughing. “She got you there dude.”

“So this is your guys first mission too. Are you scared?”

“Why are you? Then maybe you shouldn’t be on this ship.” Oluo eyed you down. 

Petra smacked his head, “stop being a jerk! Y/N is part of us now. I am a little scared but I know I am ready to prove myself to Warrior.”

“At least you had training. I’m just learning as I go.”

“I’ll teach you the best way I can.” Levi suddenly appeared holding his cup of coffee odd. “You just have to be teachable.”

“I am!” You were getting aggravated. You were equal to them and you had to start believing it. 

“Psst,” Eld tapped you. “Don’t worry, I’m a little scared too. I’ve got a wife and two kids back at home.” Eld showed you a picture of them in his locket. 

You grinned, “they are a beautiful family. I’m sure you’re making them proud. Thanks by the way. I’m glad someone else is scared around here.”

You scooped the rest of your stew out of your cup as the others bursted out laughing while saying stories of their training. 

“Remember you fell in the sewer?” Hange chuckled as she picked up the dishes to put away in the sink. “That was pretty gross my man.” 

Gunther rolled his eyes, “I got all that crap in my hair for like months. It was not funny and you know it.”

“What about when Eren slipped and did a split when he was talking to that chick?” Levi recalled, sipping his tea in a strange manner. 

“He did a split?” You almost choked on a piece of meat. “That behemoth?”

“Ha ha very funny.” Erwin said sarcastically. “I thought she was endgame and that was so humiliating.”

“You still went on a date though.” Oluo said, “I remember she threw that cake on your face.”

You raised your brow and tried to hold in your chuckle. “What? She did that to you? Why?”

“It’s because-” Levi started. 

“No let me tell it,” Hange butted in. “Erwin, I don’t think this is gonna work.” She impersonated the lady in a valley girl voice. “Like, you are too much in your job and you will never make time for me. I need a man who will spoil me and who will make me,” they all yelled in unison, “their sexy, little, queen of a thang!”

Oluo banged on the table, cackling loud, tears running down his face. Hange fell on the floor while Erwin was trying to cover his face to hide the blush. You laughed so hard you flipped your bowl. “Oh crap!” You looked and saw a tiny hint of a smile on Levi’s face. It was a different look and you liked it. He looked cute and it made you happy. 

“You finished?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you yawned. “I’mma hit the showers.”

You couldn't go to sleep. Tossing and turning you had all these expectations of what this mission entailed. Some were excited while some were terrified of the danger that laid on ship Marley. You didn’t know what to expect. 

Sweat dripped down your back and your heart pounded fast. You shot up and breathed deeply. 

Going to the kitchen you were looking for milk to drink to help with your insomnia. You were searching the refrigerator. 

“What are you doing up?”

You shrieked as you jumped. It was Levi, leaning against the counter. “Oh my God, you scared me!” You clutched your heart. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You nodded, “is it that obvious?”

He peered down to the carton of milk. “Eld told me what you two talked about.” Levi crossed his arms and you saw his muscles trying to rip out of his hoodie. “Its okay to be scared. If you’re not scared then you’re not human and when you’re doing this type of job you need everything to remind you that you still are. Besides, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You were silent because no one had ever said that to you. But you wondered if he was genuine. “I’ve never left that garage I worked at. Traveling space like this its always something I wanted but I’m just - the unknown is whats terrifying. I’m scared that I’ve wanted this for so long, what if its not what I expected? What if I fail?”

“That’s why you have to try it though, its to see what you feel about something. Because you’ll live your life not knowing and that being a mystery, and that is the worst feeling ever.”

“Yeah,” you scratched the back of your head. 

“Give me your hand, I want to show you something?” Levi outstretched his hand to you. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“I want to show you something amazing, idiot just take the dang hand.” 

You clutched his palm and he made his way to the window of the ship. It was big and wide. It was as if the world was laid out in front of you. 

“Wow,” you said amazed. Your eyes widened. The amazing galaxies and space reflected into your eyes. The sun was a little far way and was bright and beautiful. “Its so...perfect.”

“Right?” Levi leaned against the wall. “That’s kinda about the good thing about this job. The view is unbeatable.”

“I’ll say.” You smirked. “To think we are just a tiny part of this bigger picture. Makes you feel insignificant.”

“No, to me it makes me feel lucky. Lucky that I’m alive to witness something this great.”

You grabbed a hold of Levi’s hand, still looking at the space. “Thank you Levi.” Tears fell down your face. 

Levi looked shocked and was about to ask but your look turned into something that was horrifying. You covered your mouth as you gasped. “What happened?”

He gazed to where you were pointing and his eyes widened. He ran and shouted and he went to go get the crew. 

The ship Marley was there. Out of power, just floating like a lump of rock in the middle of space. It pieces broken and looking ruined. Something was terribly wrong. 

a/n: oooh spooky lol i wonder whats gonna happen. phew that was a lot of writing i hope u guys enjoy it bc it means so much to me. but i mean u all can tell that levi is ready to drop everything for y/n, they already having heart eyes!!!

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[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 23

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 11,552

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Sorry, did I miss a point back there where my car transformed into a submarine to cross the Atlantic Ocean?"

I turned my head towards Lea, knitting my eyebrows together. "Pardon?"

"Well I just don't see how else we would have ended up at freaking Buckingham Palace," he muttered, keeping one hand on the steering wheel while the other tipped his aviators forward for a better look at the mansion at the end of the long, extravagant driveway he was currently cruising his car down. He gave a low whistle, "Shit, all it's missing are those dudes in the highschool band uniforms and big fuzzy hats."

Rolling my eyes, I snorted softly. "Oh come now, it's not that big."

He scoffed, "'Not that big' is something girlfriends say about their exes to protect their insecure boyfriends' fragile male egos. It's not what you say about the Taj Ma-fucking-hal here."

The dreaded weekend was upon us at last.

You know. The Weekend. Capital T, capital W.

Aka, the visit with my parents.

Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really was about to be tested to the extreme limits.

The chateau in question (maybe villa would be a better word? Or manor, perhaps? Really, it wasn't big at all, Lea was just exaggerating) belonged to my parents. This was the home I'd grown up in. It was weird coming back here now after all that had happened. Was still in the process happening, I suppose. My fingers fidgeted with my braid as the mansion loomed ever higher the closer we got.

Actually… now that we were more up close and I was really seeing it again… oh gosh, it was rather enormous, wasn't it?

...had it somehow grown in size since last I-?

Shush, now, don't be ridiculous. That was just the anxiety talking.

Of which I was in no short supply of. I still had no clue what was in store for this weekend. Anna seemed almost just as much in the dark as I was, which was strange seeing as how she still lived here. Then again, I was pretty sure she'd been spending a lot less time around home lately in favor of staying over at her new boyfriend's place. A man I still surprisingly knew absolute zilch about, but I was hoping Anna had invited him to join us for this weekend as well. That way, I'd get to meet him and maybe even have a little of the attention taken off me. Long shot, I know, considering he was only Anna's still relatively new beau whereas I'd skipped out on my own wedding and shamed my whole family (apparently), so this guy was kind of small potatoes by comparison. But hey, a girl can dream, can't she?

It was actually Friday evening right now, so we were going to be in for more of a long weekend - in every sense of the word. Lea and I had both worked early shifts today before going to our respective homes, getting changed, packing bags for staying over for two nights and then finally heading up. Not knowing what this weekend was going to entail was wreaking no small amount of havoc on my nerves. That said, it could have been worse. Pretty sure I'd actually been more nervous for the audition a couple days ago than I was for this. Maybe that was because the audition had just been so last minute, whereas I'd been preparing for this little get-together for a couple weeks now. Even I had to admit that Lea and I made a pretty convincing couple at this point. Sure, I still got a bit awkward with PDAs, but I was no longer anywhere near as bad as I had been the day I'd seen father at my old condo.

...then again, doing the whole relationship act around the mall for the past couple weeks was one thing. Trying to pull off the same charade in front of my parents now, not to mention the Duke as well? Probably was going to be a lot more complicated.

I really had no idea what was going to happen the moment we passed through those ornate double doors leading into my parent's home.

But I was about to find out.

Whether I liked it or not.

"Alright, we made it," Lea announced as he parked the car next to the big fountain in the middle of the circle driveway, shutting off his engine. He shot me a grin, "You ready for this, my lil sötnos?"

I blinked over at him, then narrowed my eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"It's a Swedish term of endearment. Its literal translation is sweet nose. And if yours ain't the sweetest, I dunno what is," his grin twitched wider as he reached over to tweak said nose.

"Sweet n-" I groaned, swatting his hand away. "Veto."

"Aw c'mon, I thought that one was cute!" he gave a little whine. I just drooped my eyelids at him and he sighed, stretching over to open his glove compartment and pull a black marker from it. "Guess America's just not ready for the sweet nose," he grumbled, pulling the cap off with his teeth and marking something off on his palm.

I frowned. "...what are you doing?"

"Regrettably giving up on what is arguably the greatest pet name of all time, that's what."

"No, I meant with your hand." I snatched his in both mine, yanking it over in front of my face to discover a small list written on the inside of his palm, located at the top of which was sötnos with a line struck through it. "...are these... more terms of endearment for me?"

He smirked as he leaned in closer to stare down at his palm alongside me. "Yup! Since the big weekend's here, figured I'd best come prepared. This is important stuff we gotta nail down!"

I squinted at the words before me, reading, "Kruzynko…?"

"It means breadcrumb."

Scrunching up my nose, I stole the marker from him and crossed that one off. "No. Bogárkám?"

"My little bug," Lea supplied, sounding more confident in this one.

A snerk. "Nope," I popped the P. And another one bites the dust. My tongue tripped uncertainly over the next one, "Blodyn tatws?"

"Heh… potato flowers?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh wow, I love that one."

He perked up, "Really?"

"Absolutely... not," I said flatly, looking him dead in the eye as I drew a line across it as well.

"Aw man, not cool!" He pouted, then pursed his lips to one side. "Hey, is now really the best time to be doing this? We, uh…" he chuckled sheepishly, holding up his second hand to reveal a whole other list scrawled on that one too, "...might end up being here all day."

I stared blankly at him. "Just how many more of those do you have?"

"I'd show ya, but that'd require me going a lil more half monty than you'd probably prefer I'd get in your parent's driveway."

My brow furrowed and I leaned away slightly, eyeing him up and down. "...where…?"

He waggled his eyebrows at me, "That's for me to know and you to find out."

I let his hand drop from my grasp, "I'm good, thanks." As he snickered, I looked away, rubbing my fingertips over one of my (now brought to a low simmer) cheeks. "Can't you just stick to El? It's simple. Nice… I like El."

"You do?" I heard him ask and I directed a furtive sideways glance in his direction. A slow smile was curling his lips, "Alright… El it is." But then he was peeking down at his palm again. "...and also krúttið mitt."

Biting back a grin, I swat his shoulder. "How would you like it if I kept calling you some weird pet name in a foreign language all the time?"

Lea beamed, "I'd like it very much actually."

"Really? Fine," I took up his hand again, scrutinizing his palm, "...mo chuisle it is then."

His eyes lit up, "Ooo, that one's spicy!"

Oh dear, why had I thought this was a good idea again?

"...what's it mean?"

He bent towards me, eyes hooded as he purred, "You just called me your pulse."

I've made a grave error this day.

"Ah-ah!" he chirped, pressing a finger to my lips as they began to part. "Too late! No take-backsies!"

I huffed, unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me.

Lea looked far too smug as he climbed out himself, retrieving both our bags from the backseat of the car on his way out and slinging them over his shoulder. He removed his aviators, hooking them into the collar of his black, fitted v-neck shirt as his eyes took in the mansion before us once again. He'd reclaimed his leather jacket to wear for this, accompanied by snug jeans tastefully ripped at just one knee and a pair a black, heavy, steel-toed boots. He'd blinged out a bit as well, sporting a small sun medallion that hung from a chain down to his mid-chest, along a few strappy leather bracelets and a couple of rings decorating his fingers. His winged guyliner was somehow even darker and bolder than usual and his hair had been pulled back into a half-tail.

Not going to lie, my traitorous fingers practically itched to pet that little red tuft at the back of his head.

Instead, I settled for fussing with the necklace that rested against my skin just above my collarbone. The pendant was formed of three blue, almond-shaped gemstones gathered together at one point. A present from Rayne to wish me luck on this trip. I was a much bigger fan of her good luck charm than I had been of the one Lea had "gifted" me with for the musical tryouts. I wore the small charm with a classic little wrap dress in a soft lilac. Off the shoulder of course - it was me we were talking about here, so you can probably guess it before I even say it at this point - and with the hem of the skirt flaring out around the knees.

Needless to say, looking at him and me side-by-side right now, it was clear one of us was either severely over or underdressed. Considering it was my parents' door we were about to knock on, one guess as to who was what.

"Try not to scratch the paint, chief!" Lea chipperly called out as he was suddenly tossing his keys at one of the staff under my parents' employ who just so happened to be walking past us in that second.

Eyes widening, the man fumbled to catch them. As Lea turned to head towards the front door, I followed, quirking my eyebrow at him. "What was that?"

"I'm blending in," he flashed a cheeky smile, shoving a hand into one pocket of his jacket. "Whatcha think, do I sound like a rich asshole or what?"

I tipped my head to one side. "...actually, you kind of sounded like my ex."

A snort escaped through his nose. "I'll take that as a yes then."

We walked a couple steps in silence. Then, "That wasn't a valet, by the way."

He froze midstep, looking at me sharply. "What?"

"That was a gardener. My parents don't even have a valet."

"Oh." Lea glanced back over his shoulder, frowning. "...maybe I should go get my keys back then."

I hid a small grin behind my fingers. "Maybe you should."

Waiting politely, I watched him jog back towards the worker to do just that, along with offering what looked to be quite the humble apology. "Got 'em!" he declared once he'd rejoined me, flinging them up into the air before catching them again to slip into his pocket. "So even a proper gent like your old man feels the need to prove what a hot, young stud he still is, eh? Wouldn't of thought him the type."

"What?" I blinked a couple times. Where'd that come from?

He tossed his chin back towards his vehicle. More specifically, at the few other cars he'd parked next to. "I recognize Anna's Porsche over there, but that blue Ferrari reeks of midlife crisis."

"...that's my car." Then I grimaced and amended, "Rather, was my car."

"Huh?" he looked taken aback. "You drive? Since when?"

I gave a small shrug, "Since always."

"Then why're you always having me n' your roomies chauffeur you around? Not that I mind..."

"I don't have a car or the funds to purchase one." He wordlessly jerked his thumb back towards the Ferrari, face blank. I sighed, "My parents bought me that. It didn't feel right keeping it after… everything. Not with me trying to separate myself from them and make it on my own. No, I plan to buy my own once I've saved up enough."

"Shit, still shoulda kept it," Lea said and I gave him a dull look. He hastily waved a hand in front of him, "Even if ya didn't want it, you coulda sold it and made bank before giving all that munny away to charity. Ya know, just so you could really stick it to your folks."

Shaking my head with a soft chuckle, I started walking towards the entrance again. "Let's just get on with this."

"Aye aye, Capitaine," he gave me a two-fingered salute, catching up to me with his long strides.

Feeling my chest start to constrict as we drew nearer to those doors, I blew out a soft, slow breath. "I hope we're not late. I shouldn't have let you talk me into that salon visit after we got off work."

"What, you needed something to help ya relax and a quick spa day was just the ticket! 'Sides, I wanted to make myself all pretty for this! Whaddya think?" He stretched his arm out before us both, fingers wiggling to show off his fresh coat of black nail polish. "If this doesn't impress your folks and tell 'em what a man of sophisticated tastes I am, I dunno what will!"

I snorted. "I think my father is more of a mauve man himself."

"Really? Crap, you shoulda said something! I'd have asked for a matching color so he and I could be twinsies! Shucks," he snapped his fingers, "missed opportunity."

Coming to a stop on the doorstep, I reached for the bell, but my fingers hesitated.

This was so strange. I'd lived here. Spent my childhood here. I'd never had to use the doorbell before.

...why did the idea of doing so now seem so hard?

A sudden warmth enveloped my other hand. I looked down to discover Lea was holding it. He gave it a small squeeze as he said softly, "Hey. Whatever happens in there, just know I'm here for you."

I felt a small stutter in my chest as a tiny smile tugged at my lips. "...thank you," I murmured, squeezing back before looking to the doorbell once more. Taking a deep, calming breath, I pushed the button at last and a heavy chime could be heard within.

While we waited, a glimmer of something at Lea's waist caught my eye and I turned to see what it was. A crease formed between my eyebrows. "...is that… a wallet chain?"

How had I missed that thing until now?

"Hm?" he followed my gaze. "Oh! Yup! Heh, thought it might really pull the whole look together! Do I look like a punkass bad boy now or what?"

"Or what," I fixed him with a deadpan stare. "You look ridiculous."

He splayed a hand against his chest in mock offense. "Rude. Can't believe you'd talk to your pulse like that."

Face warming, I hung my head. "...I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"

"Nope!" he grinned wickedly.

"Would you just take that silly thing off?"

"No can do, sweetcheeks! Boys like to accessorize too, ya know," he sniggered, giving the chain a little twirl. "Just be grateful I left the spiked choker in the glove compartment."

"Spi-?!" I spluttered over the word before managing a scoff and crossing my arms. "Oh, trust me, I am. The point is to get my parents to back off, not to send them into cardiac arrest!"

...huh… Lea in a spiked choker…

"You're trynta imagine what I'd look like wearing it now, aren't ya?" he'd hunched down beside me to whisper into my ear with a smirk.

My cheeks burned so hot, you could have roasted marshmallows on the damn things.

"...am not."

I was almost grateful when the door swung open just then. And also a little surprised, because the face that greeted me wasn't that of my parents' house maid Gerda.

No, instead it was that of a pale, wide-eyed, huffing and puffing Anna.

(With Gerda right behind her, looking quite harried and put out by the fact that my sister had stolen her job.)

"Elsa!" she cried out in relief. "Finally! What took you so long?!"

Furrowing my brow, I began, "Anna? What-?"

"No time! Get." She lunged towards me. "In here." Her hands seized my shoulders. "Now!" I was forcibly yanked inside.

I heard the door booming shut behind me and could only hope that Lea had managed to slip in himself in time as well. Gripping my sister's arms, I tried again, "What's going on? We couldn't be more than a few minutes la-"

Her hand suddenly shot out to squeeze my cheeks together between her thumb and fingers, squishing my face and effectively silencing me. "Shush! No talkie! Only listen! Oh, it's bad, Sis. Really, really bad! It's him! He's here! Like, here here! Right friggin' now!"

"Who's here?" I asked, tugging my face free of her vice-like grip and working my jaw. I knit my eyebrows together at Gerda, who was frantically circling us as she kept trying and failing to get a word in edgewise. "The Duke? I already knew-"

"No! Not the Duke! Of course not, he won't be here until tomorrow! Gah! You know, Sis, sometimes you can be really-" Anna cut herself off in a tiny snarl, fingers curling in front of her to strangle empty air. "Ugh! Anyway, it's- I didn't- It was just- Out of nowhere- Mom and Dad, they- He- His-"

"I think she's trying to tell us something. What is it, Lassie? Timmy trapped in the well again?" Lea snerked as he let our luggage fall to the foyer floor beside his boots.

Ignoring him, I gently rubbed my hands up and down Anna's arms. "Breathe. Calm down. Take a minute to gather your thoughts."

"People!" she suddenly blurted out, startling me a bit. "Lots of them! Loads of them! So many people!"

I frowned. "People? Where? You mean here, now?"

She shook her head rapidly, "No, no, no, no! Not now people! Future people! Tomorrow people! And… and caterers! And musicians! And decorators and, and, and him! He's- Right now, he's- just down the hall, he's- he's-"

"Who, Anna? Who?" I insisted.

Her hands violently shook me, "Him!"

Right. Thanks, Sis. Big help you are.

Why was she like this?

The maid finally managed to pipe in, "What Miss is trying to tell you is that your-"

"Got it, Gerda, thanks!" Anna huffed out with a tiny scowl. Then she took in a deep breath, preparing to say something.

"Crap, I think that dude just robbed us," Lea chimed in first.

Holding a finger up to Anna, I whipped my head around to see what he was talking about: an older gentleman in a black suit walking briskly away with our bags. "Oh, that's just Kai."

Lea cocked an eyebrow at me, "The robber's name is Kai?"

"No, the butler's name is Kai."

"Why would the butler rob us?"

"He's not robbing us, he's just taking our things up to our room." I blanched. "Rooms." Plural. As in more than one. My parents would never, not in a million years, have put Lea and me in the same room under their roof… right? Oh gosh, why was the possibility only just now occurring to me? "He's, uh… he's p-putting them where we'll be staying. Separately. As in, not together. Completely and one hundred percent apart," I (overly) clarified, fighting that blush I felt creeping up my neck now.

Anna suddenly grabbed my head with both hands and forced me to look at her again, grounding out through her teeth, "You're. Not. Listening to me!" Then with a grumbling sigh, she snagged my hand in hers and started dragging me down one of the many corridors that branched off from the foyer. "Come on, we better hurry, they're probably wondering what's taking so long."

Gerda squeaked and scurried after us. "Right this way, please, and I'll see you to the Marigold Room where your hosts await your presence!" she awkwardly trilled, trying to maintain some semblance of performing her duties despite Anna's continued interference.

A whistle from Lea confirmed he was following as well. "Lemme guess. The Duke in the conservatory with the candlestick."

"Wha-?" my voice faltered as my feet tripped trying keep up with Anna, only barely managing to keep myself upright.

He grinned down at me as he strode along, shrugging. "This whole place is a legit, life-sized Clue board. Just trynta play the game here."

I stumbled again. "Ow, Anna! Not so hard. What is the rush?"

Not slowing down, she glanced back at me over her shoulder. "Come on, Elsa, think! What day is it?"

"Uh…" Was this a trick question? "...Friday?"

A low, agitated noise emitted from her throat. "No, what day?"

I squinted up at the ceiling in thought. "...the seventh?"

"Yes!" she spun around to tap her nose excitedly, her feet still moving backwards. "Which would make tomorrow…?"

"The eighth." Lost by this line of questioning? I know I was.

"Of?" she pressed. "What month, Elsa?"

"The eighth of… oh!" It finally clicked and I staggered again, my eyes growing round. "...oh no. It's his birthday. Oh gosh, he's here?! Right now?!"

"Yes! Finally! Thank you!" Anna cried out in exasperation.

"Who?" Lea asked, both eyebrows shooting up his forehead at my sudden change of attitude.

"It's-" I began, but that one word was all I got out before Anna took a sudden sharp turn, yanking me into the Marigold Room with her and bringing us face to face with-

"Grandfather!" I breathed, feet faltering as Anna brought us both to a sudden and jerky stop before him.

He cut an imposing figure, my grandfather. Tall, like father, and with the same red hair too that had been passed down to Anna. His however bore prominent streaks of grey at his temples - really the only sign of him getting on in years as he otherwise looked remarkably good for a man of his age. Still fit as a fiddle, barrel-chested, with a strong, square jaw and a sharp, piercing gaze.

A gaze that was so cold right now that I didn't know how I wasn't frozen into solid ice on the spot.

Anna had been wrong.

This wasn't bad.

This was catastrophic.

Because my grandfather? Not exactly the nicest person. Remember what my father had been like? Well, just think - he'd had to learn it from somewhere. And next to Grandfather, my father seemed warm and cuddly. Like sunshine and rainbows. Heck, Father was as friggin' teletubby by comparison to the man who'd raised him. Grandfather was cut from the same cloth as his brother, the Duke. The epitome of old fashioned and proper etiquette. The thing was, where the Duke was all bluster and tantrums, Grandfather just got quiet when he was angry. Like... really, really quiet. An ominous kind of quiet. A bone-chilling kind of quiet. Whenever Grandfather stopped talking, that's when I really got scared of the man.

No, scratch that. That was when I got petrified of the man.

So the fact that he was just staring down his nose at me right now, eyes narrowed, lips set into a grim, disapproving line, and not uttering a single word? Would have been enough to turn my hair stark white if it weren't pretty damn close already.

And to make matters worse? Mother and Father stood not five feet behind him looking rather unamused with me themselves.

Oh gosh, this wasn't going to be some pleasant, little family gathering.

This was going to be an execution. Mine, to be exact.

Gerda suddenly appeared off to one side, panting to catch her breath and making a hasty curtsy towards my parents and grandfather before announcing, "Elsa and her guest have arrived."

...thanks, Gerda. I think they figured that out already.

I watched as she turned and hurried to make her exit before reluctantly returning my gaze to Grandfather. Still, he said nothing. Just arched one bushy eyebrow at me and waited.

Oh fudge, he wanted me to be the first one to speak? Where do I even begin? What do I even say? Could I even talk right now? I don't think I could, not with how heavy my tongue suddenly felt, like it had turned into solid lead. What was I supposed to do here? How-

Suddenly, I felt it. A hand. Lea's hand, slipping across the small of my back and coming to rest on my hip, pulling me gently into his side. "Aren'tcha gonna introduce me, babe?" he asked, voice low and sugary-sweet as he grinned and pressed a kiss to my temple.

Grandfather's thick mustache gave a little twitch.

That's all it took for me to know. Not thirty seconds into this and there was absolutely zero doubt in my mind.

Before this weekend was out, Grandfather was going to murder Lea.

Inhaling and exhaling, I wrung my hands together and somehow figured out how to do this thing called 'talking' once again. "F-Father, you've already had the, uh… the pleasure, but Grandfather, Mother… this… this is…" I screwed my eyes shut, trying to steel myself.

Come on, Elsa, you can do this. Just one word. Just one measly, little word.

"This is my boooooo-" What was this? What was I doing here? "-oooooooooooooooo-" Why was I stretching the syllable out so friggin' long? What, had I gotten stuck? "-oooooooooooooo-" Dear god, how was there this much oxygen in my lungs? "-oooooooooo-" I didn't think there was even this much oxygen on the whole planet, much less inside my lungs. "-oooyyyyyyy-" Oh good. Progress. At this rate, I'd complete the word sometime this century. "-yyyyyyyyy-"

Anna, my divine saviour and blessed angel of mercy, jabbed her elbow into my gut.

"-friend!" I finished at last with a cough. "Boyfriend. This is my...my boyfriend. Yes. This is he. He is this." A beat. Then, "Lea! By the way. His name, that is. Yup. Lea the Boyfriend. My boyfriend. That's right, Lea is my boyfriend. My boyfriend is-"

"I think they get it, Sis," Anna hissed quietly out of the corner of her plastered-on smile.

Gee, I was getting so good at this whole lying thing, wasn't I?

"Pleased to meet ya, Gramps," Lea stretched out a hand towards him.

Grandfather didn't take it. Instead, he just stared long and hard at it. At the black nail polish and rings adorning it. Finally, he lifted his chin with a sniff and straightened his already ramrod posture even further. "That'll be Sir to you, young man."

"Oo, how formal. Whatever you say," he retracted his hand with a smirk, "Sir Gramps."

This had been a mistake, using Lea as my rent-a-boyfriend.

Actually… no, mistake would be an understatement. This was a powder keg and Lea was a goddamn burning match.

Pushing past my now rigidly stiff grandfather, Lea approached my parents next. "Pops, always a pleasure. Ma'am," he took my mother's hand in his to politely press his lips to the back of it, "lovely to make your acquaintance."

She looked slightly taken aback, blue eyes widening. However, Mother recovered quickly, delicately plucking her fingers from his grip to smooth at the tight bun her brown hair was currently up in before primly folding her hands together just below her waist. When she smiled, it was gracious but tight. "As it is yours," there was a briefest of pauses before she tacked on a hesitant, "Lea. Please, take a seat. Dinner should be ready shortly, but would anyone like a drink prepared while we wait?"

I was relieved to hear Lea answer with, "I'm good, thanks." Because a return of Wine Tipsy Lea was by far the very last thing this situation needed right now. As I declined as well, a quick look around brought to my attention the fact that we were the only two not partaking as it seemed the others had already started before we'd gotten here. Mother and Father were sipping at what looked to be some sort of dark red cabernet, while Anna retrieved her own glass and moved towards the mini bar to refill it - most likely with something sweet, fruity and potent enough to bring down an elephant, knowing her. On the low table around which all the seats gathered was a sturdy glass full of ice and an amber liquid. Probably Grandfather's. Probably bourbon.

I shifted over towards the sofa opposite the table from my parents and all three of us took a seat at the same time. Lea joined me soon after, slipping his arm around my shoulders as he flumped down into the cushions beside me. Grandfather, however, hadn't budged from where he stood since we'd entered the room. Not one inch. "Father," was all my father said to him - partially warning, partially pleading.

Grandfather's mustache twitched again and his left eye ticked. But then he moved to sit down in the armchair in front of the bourbon, snatching up the glass and sullenly nursing it.

Dear lord, this was a nightmare. No, this was Hell. That had to be it - I'd died and was now in my own little corner of the Underworld specifically designed and crafted to torture me in the cruelest way possible. I could already feel the stress burning an ulcer into my stomach and no amount of Lea's fingers lightly trailing up and down my arm would calm me down.

There was no point in putting it off, right? I should just do it now. Bring up the thing that was on all of our minds but no one was talking about. You know, the thing. The wedding thing… or rather, the whole lack of the wedding thing. I should just get this over with. Rip the bandaid off. Getting it all out in the open now had to be better than this. Anything had to be better than this… right?

Hands fidgeting furiously in my lap and this close to dislocating a finger, I licked my dry lips and managed to find my voice. "Perhaps now… we should discuss what exactly h-happened on… on my-"

"That is a topic that would be best saved for later," Father talked over me, his stern voice cutting me off. "Let us speak of other things right now."

My head rocked back at that, my forehead wrinkling. I flicked my gaze over to Grandfather briefly - who was still stewing quietly over his drink - then back to my parents. "But I thought-"

"Now's not the time, Elsa," Mother insisted firmly. "This is not a discussion that will be brief, nor will it be suitable to have over dinner. Besides, your father and I will have our hands full preparing for the party tomorrow evening, so this is a conversation that will just have to wait until the day after."

A frown tugged at my lips. "You're hosting a party?"

"For Grandfather's birthday," Anna plopped down onto the sofa beside me, freshened drink in hand. "Since, ya know, it's such a huge one. The big seven-oh. The whole family is going to be there to celebrate. And I mean, the whole family," she shot me a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she took a swig.

Oh. So that's what she'd meant earlier by "tomorrow people."

Why couldn't she have been this articulate when she'd greeted me at the door?

Mother added, "You are, of course, invited to attend the celebration as well, Lea. I know Father would be thrilled for you to join us."

Uh-huh. Sure. Grandfather looked positively pleased as punch over there at the very prospect.

"Sounds like a blast, count me in," Lea grinned.

Alright so… the birthday soirée would be tomorrow, then The Talk™ would be the day after. Roughly two days… forty-eight hours of waiting and worrying and dreading and- oh dear, I had to wonder what the world record for longest sustained panic attack might be. Start the timer, I was about to shatter that sucker.

A hush fell over the room, with the only sound coming from the clinking of the ice in Grandfather's drink accompanied by the ticking of the ancient but well-kept longcase clock in the corner. The ticking seemed to get louder with each passing second.

After one painfully long minute, Mother was finally the one to break the silence. "So Lea," she began, her eyes intent on him, "please… tell us a little about yourself."

"Where to even begin? Lessee here." Uh oh. I didn't like that little gleam he had in his eye as he rubbed a curled finger over his chin. "Well, I guess ya could say I had the kinda childhood every lil tyke dreams about: full of joy and love and the foster system." It was probably a good thing I hadn't gotten a drink because I'd probably be choking on it right now just like my parents were with theirs. "But I mean, with a druggie dad who bought the farm and a druggie mom who split outta my life first chance she got, where else was I s'posed to go?

"As for the rest after that, let's just give ya the highlights." Now he started ticking off his fingers, "College dropout. Ride a motorcycle. In a hardcore death metal band. Smoke ten packs a day." For the love of… he did remember the part about not giving my parents a heart attack, right? "Just got my thirty-day chip from AA - hey, fifth times a charm, right? Oh, I'm also a wanted felon in three different states. Wait…" he squinted one eye, pursing his lips to the left, "...make that four. Always forget about Connecticut. Which reminds me, I need to check in with my parole officer."

"He's joking!" I said quickly with a tiny, nervous laugh.

"Or am I?" he leaned forward in his seat to whisper conspiratorially, eyebrows bouncing. I pinched his arm, forcing a soft tch from him. "But let's not forget the most important thing ya need to know about me: how completely," he kissed my pinky, "and totally," another one for my ring finger, "head over heels," three more, one for each word and each remaining finger, "I am for your daughter."

Alright, you need to cool your jets, cheeks. This was all just part of the show, after all.

A show that was possibly being performed a bit too well. Grandfather's knuckles had gone so white around his glass, I was surprised the poor thing hadn't shattered into a million pieces yet.

Lea tapped his index to his lips now, "Hmmm, what else? Oh! Got a pretty cool story about this gnarly scar my half-brother gave me with a-"

"Anna!" I suddenly burst out, turning towards her at the same time I snagged Lea's hand, keeping him from lifting the hem of his shirt. She froze mid-sip, glancing at me out of the corner of her eyes. "What about you? What's new with you? You have that new boyfriend of yours, right? What about him, will he be joining us this weekend?"

Who me? Trying to change the subject? Psh, I would never!

She winced, averting her gaze and lowering her drink as she traced a finger around the rim. "Oh jeez, my…? Well... he, er… he was going to make it for dinner tonight but… something… unfortunately came up! But he should definitely be here in time for the party tomorrow, so… don't worry! Heh… I- oo, little cheeses!" she cried out excitedly as Gerda abruptly appeared once more to place a small platter of hors d'oeuvres on the coffee table. Anna immediately proceeded to stuff her face with them before pointing at her bulging cheeks and shaking her head, signaling she could no longer talk.

A crease formed between my eyebrows.

Huh… was it just me or was Anna acting kind of weird?

Maybe the tension around the room just had us all on edge, even her. Yeah, that was probably all it was.

"And you, Elsa?" Father's cool tone snapped my attention back to him. Each word that followed was slow and measured, as if he were picking them very carefully, "Tell us how you have been keeping yourself occupied during these past several weeks."

"Oh!" I gnawed on my lower lip, my fingers already tugging at my braid before I'd even realized it. "Well, I've… reconnected with an old friend - you remember Rayne from when I went to summer camp? Well she's married now with a baby on the way, can you imagine? And… and I've gotten myself a place to live and have found a job and-"

-and auditioned for a musical.

That was what I'd been about to tell them. However when I tried, the words got caught in my throat.

I knew they'd disapprove. That they'd probably scoff and wonder why I was still wasting my time on such childish, useless things. But it wasn't childish or useless, at least not to me. To me, the audition had been so important, had brought me so much happiness. I didn't want to give my parents the chance to belittle and ridicule it. I didn't want them to take this thing that was so special away from me.

So instead I released my braid and folded my hands in my lap, sitting up a little straighter as I simply said, "...and that's it really."

I could sense Lea's eyes on me. I think he knew what I'd purposely omitted. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut about it.

"So… Lea…" Grandfather spoke up suddenly, his voice dangerously low and making me flinch. "I hear you're in the…" his lip curled in a slight sneer, "...pizza business? Is that right?"

Smirking back, he slouched a bit more comfortably into his seat. "That's right. I sling dough at a lil pizza joint in the local mall food court. Great place by the name of Pizza Planet… you ever been?"

His jaw clenched ever so slightly. "No, can't say that I have. But this... Pizza Planet," he said it like those were the two most offensive words in the english language, "...is that where you see yourself working for the rest of your life?"

Lea chuckled, his hand batting the air, "Nah, that'd just be silly! No, I won't be selling pizza forever." His mouth curved into a cheshire grin, "Instead I'll be selling ice cream."

"He plans to own his own business, Grandfather," I hastily clarified.

"His own business… selling ice cream," he growled, pointer finger incessantly tapping against his glass now. "And this is how you would plan to provide for and take care of my granddaughter."

"Pardon me, Sir Gramps," there was a hint of an edge to Lea's voice now, despite his unwavering smile, "but I was under the impression that your granddaughter was her own person fully capable of taking care of herself."

You know that chilling, goosebump-inducing, hackles-raising energy you can feel crackling in the air right before a devastating storm strikes and ravages the land?

That was exactly how it felt right now in the space between Grandfather and Lea.

Luckily, Gerda appeared in the nick of time to divert the tempest by announcing, "Dinner is ready!"

"Thank you, Gerda," Mother had stood in the blink of an eye and was already making her way over to Grandfather. "If you would be so kind as to escort me, Father?"

His hard, unblinking gaze was still on Lea and for a second it seemed like he hadn't even heard her. But at last he tore his eyes away with a harrumph and put his drink back down on the table with a sharp, audible clink. "Of course, my dear," he said evenly as he rose from his own chair, offering her his arm and leading her out of the room.

I turned to Anna, but before I could say anything she'd already bolted up and around the table to grab both of Father's hands in hers. "C'mon, Dad! Walk me to dinner too!" she yanked him up, startling a soft grunt out of him as he staggered to his feet. Then she was hooking her arm through his elbow and all but dragging him out of the room with her.

What the…?

...maybe Anna was just super hungry?

"I think that went really well!" Lea chirped, giving me a thumbs up.

I merely drooped my eyelids at him and said nothing.

Later that night found me in my old bedroom. I'd deduced this was where I was expected to sleep, seeing as how this was where Kai had deposited my luggage. As suspected, Lea had been set up in one of the guest rooms further down the hall, so it was just me alone in here now.

It felt odd being back in this room. Just like it'd felt odd returning to my parent's home or going back to my old condo. I don't know, I guess I just didn't feel like I... belonged here anymore. Like I was some piece that everyone else was trying to force into the wrong puzzle, even though my edges didn't fit and the picture didn't match at all.

Sighing, I shifted in my chair to face the mirror on my vanity once more - this one a lot nicer than the one we'd scrounged up for my room back at the apartment I shared with Rayne and Riku, as you might imagine. Having just finished combing out my hair, I set my brush aside and my fingers idly went to work on rebraiding as my thoughts began to wander.

Dinner had ended up just being the sequel to drinks in the Marigold Room. My parents had continued to try and maintain some semblance of being hospitable hosts while keeping up strained conversation. Grandfather had continued to be a seething ball of barely-held-in-check fury and I don't think he'd said more than two words for the rest of the evening. Lea had continued to… well, be Lea. And as for my sister…

I quite honestly had no idea what was going on with her. Maybe it was just my imagination but it seemed every time I'd tried to talk to her, something else had always gotten in the way. Like I'd open my mouth to speak but before I could so much as make a peep, she'd already engaged Mother or Father in some new topic. Or I'd ask her a question only to have her look at me, lips pursed shut against a mouth full of food and shoulders shrugging. There was even one time where all I'd said was her name before she'd accidentally knocked over her drink. At least, I thought it'd been accidental… unless...

Could it be that she was... purposely avoiding talking to me? Had I done something to upset her? I couldn't even begin to think what. Last I'd seen her a week ago, she'd been fine. Everything had been normal between us. What could have possibly changed since?

...maybe I was just reading too much into it. It was probably just a lot of coincidence and poor timing. In fact-

There was a knock at my door just then.

Ha! Bet you that was her now. See? Nothing to worry about, I'd just been overthinking it all. Tying off my completed braid, I rose to answer the door.

And indeed, it was a redhead that I found waiting in the corridor on the other side.

Just not the redhead I'd been expecting.

"Lea?" I frowned, both my eyebrows rising.

He snerked, "Yeesh, don't act too excited to see me."

"What? No, I'm- You're just not who I-" I pressed my lips shut, heaving a small sigh through my nose. "...nevermind. What brings you here?"

"Brought ya something," he grinned and for the first time, I realized he was hiding his hands behind his back. "May I come in?"

My head tipped to the right. "Uh...sure," I opened the door wider, my bare feet stepping off to one side as I absently smoothed at my dress - the same one from dinner. Lea had arrived just before I'd been about to change for bed.

He was still in his earlier clothes as well, though he'd left behind his boots and jacket. I couldn't help but notice he hadn't taken that cute little half-tail out of his hair yet. I also couldn't help but notice the way he carefully managed to keep whatever he had behind him out of sight, even as he walked past me into the room. I closed the door and when I faced him, he hunched down to my eye level, "Ya ready?"

I crossed one hand over my abdomen and gestured with the other for him to continue.

"Ta-da!" he brought one hand forward now, revealing a little black strip lined with sharp, metal points dangling from the clasp pinched between his fingertips.

That's right. It was the spiked collar.

...whatever I'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.

My eyes blinked once. Then twice. "...you were serious? You actually have one of those?"

"Course! What, didja think I was lying? I'm offended, madame," he hmphed, putting his free hand to his breast.

I snorted with a roll of my eyes, "Well no, not lying, but more so just joking."

"I never joke about studded leather," he waggled his eyebrows at me.

Nose crinkling, I delicately poked a finger into one of the spikes. "Alright, so why exactly are you showing me this?"

Lea smirked and shrugged. "Your curiosity just seemed so piqued when I mentioned it earlier."

I gave him a flat look. "It was not piqued."

"Keep telling yourself that," he chuckled then paused, eyes crinkling. "...so you wanted to know what it looked like on me, right?"

Cheeks lightly toasted now, I scowled, "I never said-"

He wrapped the thing around his neck, holding it in place with a hand instead of fastening the tiny buckle in back.

Oh.

Oh, I see.

...it was, um… hrm, it was… interesting.

Damn it, face, be cool. That goes double for you, heart! Don't go thinking I can't hear that racket you're making down there!

"Well, I guess that's one mystery solved," was all I said as I glanced away, hand coming up to cover one cheek in a vain attempt to hide the growing blush.

"Glad I could be of service," he murmured as he (mercifully) removed the collar from his throat once more.

"...why do you even own one?" I asked, hesitantly reaching for the accessory now.

He let me take it from him. "Just a relic from my pissed-off, rebellious juvenile delinquent days that I managed to dig up again recently. What a punkass lil poser I was back then, huh?" he hummed a tiny laugh as he looked down at his feet, lightly scuffing one against the carpet.

Intrigued by it now, I turned it over in my hands as he spoke before taking it over to the mirror on my vanity. "I suppose we all try to find different ways to express ourselves when we're young. Just a part of growing up and figuring out who we are," I said distractedly as I watched my reflection bring the choker up to encircle her neck, tilting her head slightly to the left with a thoughtful frown.

"Well I guess that'd make me a-" whatever quip he'd had locked and loaded was forever lost as he made a sudden strangled, choking noise.

I looked over at him sharply, brow furrowing as I lowered the spiked collar once more. "You okay? What happened?"

His fist thumped his chest as he fought for breath, which was making his face red. "N-nothing," he wheezed, rapidly shaking his head. "Just oxygen, man. That shit'll kill ya, am I right? Heh."

I squinted at him dubiously.

Lea was such a weirdo sometimes.

He averted his gaze now, rubbing at the back of his neck. "You, uh… that choker looked good on ya. Like really, really good."

"You think so?" I frowned down at where it rested in my palm before holding it out to him, "I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Keep it," he grinned, pushing my hand back towards me. "Ya never know when you'll need one for an impromptu angry goth phase."

I smiled at that, "I think I'm in the clear. Isn't that more of a teenager thing?"

"Please. Angry goth isn't an age, it's a state of mind."

"If you say so," I snorted, but put the choker down on my vanity. I had to wonder what my parents might say if they ever discovered it in here with the rest of my things.

"So," he piped up once more, pulling my attention back to him, "this is the bedroom that sweet lil El grew up in, huh?"

As I watched Lea take a few steps further in now, it suddenly occurred to me... this was the first time a boy had ever been in my bedroom. And not just any boy - this was my crush.

Wow… it felt so highschool when I put it that way.

To be fair though, this wasn't an experience I'd ever got to have while I was actually in highschool.

Better late than never, I suppose?

I only wish it didn't make me want to squirm so much as his eyes roved over everything in here, from the big, purple, gauzy canopy bed to the embellished, oversized wardrobe and matching dresser set. From the cushy, inset bench beneath a grand window in the unique shape of a triangle to the tall, antique shelves of neatly arranged novels and DVD cases of old musicals and plays. From the small sitting area in one corner furnished with plush red chairs to the vintage Broadway posters hanging from the walls in expensive frames.

The room was not small by any means, but him being in it somehow seemed to make it shrink. Like here was this big guy that had somehow found his way into a cutesy little dollhouse room. The comparison did not make me want to fidget any less.

Trying to take my mind off it, I began, "So… earlier at drinks and dinner, did you really have to be so…" I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to find the right word. "...just so, ah…"

"So much of a grade-A jackass?" he suggested brightly. Not exactly the word I would have used, but still, I gave a slow nod and he laughed. "Remember, the whole point was for me to be a total hooligan so they didn't just think me some pushover they could boss around or scare off. Think they got that message loud and clear. 'Sides, pushing every last button of the girlfriend's folks is kinda a hallmark of being a classic bad boy."

My fingers found their way to my braid, running up and down it. "But there's a big difference between pushing a few buttons and having a deathwish."

"Aw, how sweet, you worried about lil ol' me, El?" He paused briefly in his casual perusal of my room to glance my way, flashing me that cursed dimple of his, "I'm so flattered."

I shook my head, "I just think you didn't have to go to such extremes or be quite so-"

"Gotta question for ya," he interjected, coming over to stand in front of me. "Say I had showed up on my very best behavior. The perfect gentleman, minded all my P's and Q's and was just the saintliest boyfriend to ever saint. Do you think your family would be singing my praises right about now?"

My eyes shifted about and I tried weakly, "...well… maybe if-"

"Do you truly, honestly believe that your family would ever accept a white trash lil nobody like me dating their precious princess of a daughter?" he pressed quietly yet firmly.

I tucked in my lower lip, hesitating for a long moment before a tiny grimace twisted my face and I mumbled, "Probably not, no."

Lea gave a little smile that almost seemed a touch sad before he turned away once more, returning his attention to exploring the bedroom. "Thought so. I was screwed the second I so much as dared to breathe the same air as your gramps. So if they're all gonna hate my guts whether I play the part of boy scout or hoodlum, might as well go with door numeros dos and at least have some fun while I'm at it," he chuckled.

"Fine, I see your point," I crossed my arms with a frown. "But still, you might want to tone it back just a smidge. Grandfather has munny and connections. He can seriously make you disappear."

A snerk. "I'd like to see him try. I'm one tough son of a bitch to get rid of," he muttered as he neared my bed now, reaching out a hand to poke some of the draping aside as he peeked in, "Trust me, no one axes me that easily, got it memorized? He's in for one rude awakening if he thinks he can just- gah!" he stumbled back in surprise, blinking a couple times before shifting the canopy again for a second look. "The fuck is that ugly lil bastard?!"

I rushed over, snatching up the stuffed plushie sitting atop my neatly made bed and hugging it close as I glared at Lea. "It's a snowman and shush, he's cute! Cuter than you anyway!"

His horrified gaze darted from me to the doll and back. "Dear god, I hope not!"

Sitting down on my mattress, I spun the little guy around in my lap for a better look at him - it'd probably been at least four-some-odd years since I'd last seen the plush, after all. And okay, sure, I could admit he probably wouldn't be winning any beauty contests any time soon, but give the poor, stuffed snowman a break! I��had had him since I was a baby and he had had to endure more than one stitch repair job, especially with what a destructive little toddler Anna had been. Despite all that, I still thought him rather handsome with a unique, quirky charm to him.

Giving Lea a flat look and hitching my chin, I said dryly, "My statement stands."

"Wow, guess it's true what they say, beauty really is in the eye of the beholder," he grumbled, narrowing his gaze on the plushie as I snuggled it close to me once more. But then one corner of his lips quirked up and he bowed down to look me in the eye, tipping his head to one side as he murmured, "Hope I at least rate a close second."

Resident cheeks be advised: flash fire warnings are now in effect.

I held my tongue and just glanced away.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he straightened back up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "So… about that big party tomorrow…"

Thank goodness, a new topic! "What about it?"

Shrugging, Lea said, "Just wanna know what to expect."

My fingers idly stroked at the snowman's head - the fabric still felt soft after all these years, even if it had taken on more of a dull gray color by now as opposed to its original pristine, snowy white. "Well… it'll probably be held in our ballroom-"

"This small palace has a freaking ballroom too?" He shook his head with a snort, "I was kidding before, but this place really is just one big damn Clue board."

Rolling my eyes, I continued, "And it'll probably be packed with all our relatives. Believe me, there are a lot of us on both sides of the family. Acquaintances too. Honestly, it'll most likely all be rather boring. Just a whole lot of mingling, maybe a speech or two, and an over abundance of food accompanied by music."

"Music…" he repeated, frowning up at the ceiling now as one hand went to the nape of his neck, tugging at the little hairs there. "So that mean there'll be dancing? Like… the fancy kind?"

I cocked my head at him. "Are you worried about having to waltz?" Resting my stuffed doll against my pillows, I stood up, "I can teach you if you'd like."

He blinked at me, expression unreadable. Then, "Alright."

I stepped over to stand before him. Now that I got close, I was reminded of just how freakishly tall the man was. My stomach did a little somersault at that and I was already regretting this decision. But it was too late to turn back now. Beating the blush back, locking it up and throwing away the key, I schooled my face into seriousness.

I was going to handle this like a professional, damnit!

"It's fairly simple really, and you've probably seen more than your fair share of it in those sappy movies you like so much. Our hands come together, like this," I joined my right with his left, holding them up to one side. "While your other hand goes…" gingerly taking his wrist in my grasp, I tentatively guided his palm to rest on my hip, hoping the action didn't seem as awkward as it had felt, "...right there." Finally, I settled my left hand on his shoulder and looked up the few inches that separated us.

Big mistake.

Jeez, having eyes as green and beautiful and heart spasm-inducing as his should've been illegal!

And being surrounded by his warm, cinnamony boy scent was not helping matters one bit.

I hastily broke eye contact, opting to look down at our toes instead. Toes are nice. Toes are safe. "It's, uh... it's very easy. You just take steps in the shape of a square. Watch my feet and follow along, I'll go slow. Forward with your left foot first," I took a step back and he moved with me, "then to the side with your right… now bring them together… Good. Then back with your right… out with your left… and together again." I took him through it a few more times without issue. "See? Simple. You're already getting the hang of it."

"I just must have a really good teacher," he said in a low hum.

"At this rate I'll soon be the one following your lead instead of… wait," my forehead wrinkled, "...you are already leading." I looked up at him suspiciously. "Did you already know how to ballroom dance?"

He smiled sheepishly, "Heh… guilty?"

"You brat, why did you tell me you didn't?" I laughed, trying to step away from him.

"I said no such thing," his hand shifted from my hip to the small of my back, not letting me escape. To be fair, I didn't try that hard. "You just assumed I didn't know how. And you know what they say when you assume," he teased as he continued to lead me in our little dance.

I scoffed in spite of the upward tug I felt at one side of my mouth. "Where did you even learn to waltz?"

"My lil secret," Lea winked. "But you know the deal. I'd be willing to give it up for one o' yours."

"You want me to give you a secret?" My eyes darted to the left. "I'm not sure I even have anymore…"

He snerked, pulling me ever so slightly closer to him. "Now I know I don't believe that. You must be able to think of at least one."

...actually yes. There was… at least one more I could think of…

That of certain feelings I was having for a certain redhead.

Sensing a small, familiar heat creeping up into my face, I cleared my throat and shook my head, still not meeting his gaze. "No… no I don't think so. Pretty sure I'm all tapped out."

He dipped his head down next to mine and I could feel him smirking against my ear as he whispered, "You wouldn't be lying to me now, would you?"

His warm breath tickled and I had to suppress a shiver. Conceal, don't feel. Don't let him know. I finally looked at him with a small, playful smile that I hoped didn't betray my hammering heart. "Come now… does this look like the face of someone who'd lie to you?"

Lea bit back a tiny, crooked grin as his eyes hooded, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of my dress. Then his lips parted, about to speak.

That was when, for the second time that night, a knock came at my door.

That must be Anna. Smile widening as I continued to stare up at Lea, I called out, "Come in."

I heard it open followed by a soft, "Oh!" that caused me to pale and my feet to stumble.

That wasn't the sound of my sister's voice.

My head whipped towards it as I stammered, "M-Mother!" This time when I attempted to break free of Lea's hold, he let me.

She stood there, posture perfect and hands clasped together in front of her. "Sorry, I didn't think you already had company."

"S'okay, I was just leaving," Lea said before pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. "Night," he told me, voice low as his fingers tucked some of my hair behind my ears. Apparently, he couldn't just depart without giving me one final whammy of the warm fuzzies. Jerkface. "Ma'am," he nodded to my mother as he walked past her towards my door, closing it behind him on his way out.

My gaze followed his exit before drifting over to my vanity right beside the door.

More specifically, to the spiked collar still resting on top of it.

Fudge. Had I wondered what my parents' reaction would be if they ever discovered it in here? Yes. Did I particularly need to find out the answer to that little question this very night? Hell no!

Luckily Mother hadn't seemed to notice it on her way in and her back was currently to it as she said, "That young man is… quite the character."

Funny. That's what Father had said. Almost verbatim. I wondered if my parents rehearsed these things.

"He, uh…" I sidled past her, putting myself between her and the choker, blocking her line of sight to it. Then I forced an innocent smile and a weak chuckle, "...he makes me happy."

If she thought my movements strange, she was good at hiding it. "And he seems very fond of you."

"Ah… yes, I suppose so." I casually leaned back against the piece of furniture and slipped a hand behind me, discreetly moving the offending item into one of the vanity's small drawers.

Whew! Mission Hide The Goth Contraband was a success!

The small feeling of victory swiftly waned however and I frowned. "Mother, I…" I began, only to find I had no idea what to say to her.

I hadn't had any idea for years now.

It had not always not always been like this. In fact when I'd been very little, I'd felt like I could share anything and everything with her. She'd been my biggest supporter in all things, especially in my love of the performing arts. As I'd always been such a shy child, she'd gone so far as to even encourage the activity, perhaps in the hopes that it would build my confidence and make me more outgoing.

But as I'd grown older, our relationship had changed. She became more aloof and distant. I suspect she and Father had hoped my interest in theater was just a phase, one I'd grow out of eventually. But when it seemed I wasn't going to - not on my own anyway - she'd started taking a sterner approach with me. That's when she stopped being my friend. That's when it became harder to talk to her. And it'd only gotten harder and harder with time. Things were never quite the same between us after that.

She watched me now, patient for me to continue. Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I finally settled on, "Why are you here?"

"I would think the answer should be obvious." Her small, gentle smile caught me off guard, but not nearly as much as her now stepping forward to take both my hands in hers. "I wanted a little time alone with my daughter. Away from your father and grandfather... just the two of us."

My breath hitched, my chest constricted, and before I knew it I was blurting out, "I auditioned for a musical."

Her head reeled back slightly and I winced.

Welp. So much for not letting that cat out of the bag.

I swear, mouth, I can't take you anywhere.

Waiting with bated breath, I searched her wide-eyed gaze for any clue as to what she might be thinking. Was she angry? Annoyed? Disappointed? I couldn't tell as her face gave away nothing for several long seconds. Finally though, she tipped her head to one side, "...did it go well?"

I blinked, a crease emerging between my eyebrows. "I, uh… yes, I think it did. But they won't announce casting until next week."

"I see. Well," and here she was smiling again as she leaned in closer to whisper, "we can just keep that our little secret, hm?"

...who was this woman and what had she done with Mother?

I stared at her before slowly nodding. It was all I could do. Words abandoned me at the moment. I hadn't been prepared at all for this.

And I was even less prepared for what came next.

Mother's gaze softened as she brought her hand up, cupping her cool fingers to my cheek. "That must have taken a lot of courage. I'm very proud of you."

My throat tightened and I swallowed past the lump I felt forming in it. I blinked away some tears, my voice hoarse as I somehow managed to get out, "Th-thank you… Mother."

Had I entered some sort of Twilight Zone? If so, I never wanted to leave.

She regarded me kindly for a second more before her expression turned to that of concern. "You look tired. Have you been sleeping well?"

Honestly, I hadn't. The last good night's rest I'd had was the unplanned sleepover in Lea's room. Every night since then was one night closer and closer to this weekend and whatever unspeakable horrors awaited me. Every night had been less and less dreams, replaced by more and more tossing and turning. I'd actually spent all of last night wide awake, just staring up at my ceiling until the sun had at last arisen.

So, naturally, my answer to Mother was, "Yes."

Her quiet tsk said she didn't believe me. "Come here," she turned away, walking towards my bed and lowering herself down onto it. I hugged myself, feet rooted to the spot as I stared after her, bewildered. Sitting back against my pillows and tucking in her legs, her hand patted the spot on the mattress beside her, "Cuddle close, scooch in."

Instantly I was transported back to when I was a little girl. Back to the last time I'd heard her say those words to me. My response was automatic and before I'd realized it, I'd already curled into her side and was resting my head against her shoulder.

She started humming a familiar lullaby. One she had used to sing for me all the time when I was small. It was from my favorite musical, the same one that the song I'd sang in the tryouts had been from.

This was nice. It wouldn't put me to sleep, but still, it was... nice. Comforting. Nostalgic. Her hand was lightly stroking my arm, my hair, my cheek. Then she was trailing the tip of her pinky down the bridge of my nose slowly before bringing it back up to do it again. An old trick she'd used to use to get me to pass out. Cute. That may have worked when I was a child, but I was an adult now. There's no way it could still possibly have the same effect on me now, not in a million-

Within minutes I was out like a light.

Author's Note: Ah, it's finally here! The dreaded weekend with (dun dun dun)… The Parents (TM)! Elsa's spent most of the story in Lea's KH universe, now it's his turn to spend a few chapters in her Frozen world xP Let me tell you, when I was writing outline notes for this whole story, I had very little planned for this arc at first. I had a smattering of a few vague ideas, but hardly enough to fill even so much as one chapter with! But thankfully, Frozen 2 was released, coming to my rescue and giving me a whole new host of Frozen characters to include xD Then the ideas started flowing, thank goodness! Soooooo, more F2 characters to be introduced in the chapters to come! Fun Fact: Elsa's dress this chapter (complete with lil necklace) is loosely based on the dress she wears at the beginning of F2 for the Some Things Never Change song, just picture it shorter (cuz apparently I just want to do that to all her dresses) and with a maybe slightly poofier skirt.

Next chapter, what new trial and tribulations does The Weekend (capital T, capital W) hold in store for our couple? Is there something up with Anna or she just being her normal oddball self? Was there a reason behind Mother's unexpected show of affection? Will there be trouble brewing at Gramps' bday shindig? Just who REALLY is the cuter cutie to ever cute: Lea or Elsa's wonky snowman plushie? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[midnight0stars]

**This Side of You ~ Aqua x M!Reader NSFW**

Words: 2637

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The door to your room swung open as you pushed your body against it. A twin sized bed was settled under the window, the covers ruffled and wrinkled from you scrambling to get up just a few hours before. You hadn’t meant to sleep through the first half hour of training, but Master Eraqus was sure you more than made up for it when you finally did arrive. Your muscles were sore, your legs wobbling with exhaustion, and the start of a migraine throbbed in your skull from a well placed hit by Terra during a sparring session.

Today just wasn’t your day.

With a sigh, you plopped your bag on the floor, uncaring as the contents spilled out of it as it impacted the ground. Your legs dragged forward, meeting with the edge of the bed and allowing you to belly flop on top of the plush comforter that welcomed you back with its warmth. It wouldn’t take much for you to drift away into your dreams, and part of you yearned for what you believed was a well deserved rest. But you couldn’t… There was still so much to be done that day and you were only excused to take a shower before heading back to study for an upcoming trial.

Grumbling, you rolled onto your back, your arm over your forehead. You gazed out the window beside your bed, able to see the shimmering lake and the birds dipping under its surface. The sight brought a smirk to your lips, recalling just a few nights before when you and Aqua had gone in for a dip of your own. She rarely misbehaved or did anything that she knew would upset Master Eraqus, but according to her, you brought out the worst in her. While she called it the worst, you preferred to think of it as her true self. The side of her that acted on her heart and her desired, without a care of her mounting responsibilities as an upcoming Keyblade Master.

You admired her. But you also loved being able to bring her out of her shell and see a part of her that no one else was privy to. She had been at training, as she was nearly everyday. The look she sent you when you arrived late should have made you feel embarrassed. Instead, you merely sent her a wink paired with a smirk and she averted her gaze with warmed cheeks. It didn’t take much to make her blush and you took full advantage of that any chance you got.

Oh what you’d do to have her there with you right then. She was probably off studying with Terra or mentoring Ventus, as she often was. There was usually no time for you until the others had gone to bed and she could breathe a sigh of relief at finally being on her own. Then she’d come find you.

Today though, you wondered if you could convince her otherwise.

It seemed that you weren’t the only one considering the option as a light knock on your door grabbed your attention. You pushed yourself to sit up, running your hand through your hair as you called back, “Uh, yeah, come in!”

The knob turned and the door creaked open as Aqua poked her head in. “I hope I’m not interrupting,  Y/N.”

“Aqua,” you greeted her as you stood up from the bed. “What’s up? Everything alright?”

“Of course,” she assured you, stepping in and shutting the door behind her as she leaned back against it. Her eyes danced over you, before settling on your collection of trinkets along your desk. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Alright?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side, before a throb of discomfort reminded you. “Ah, training?” When she nodded, you waved her off, hiding the wince of pain on your face. “It’s fine. I’m just having an off day.”

“We all have them from time to time,” she agreed, her hands clasping in front of her. “I can heal you if you need me to.”

“You really don’t have to worry about it,” you stepped towards her, brushing your fingers through her hair to push it back behind her ear and drawing her gaze back to you. “Plus, I don’t think Master would appreciate you undoing the lesson he was trying to teach me for sleeping in.”

She chuckled, leaning into your touch and bringing her hand up to yours along her cheek. “I imagine you’ve learned the errors of your ways.”

“One can only hope.” You sighed, smirking from her short laugh in response. “But, I mean, if you really want to heal me, I won’t stop you. I’d… actually really appreciate it.”

Her soft lips against your palm caused your breath to catch. Usually, you were the one initiating affection and making her breathless. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to her being the one to sweep you off your feet.

“I really want to,” she assured you, smiling softly as she laced her fingers in between yours.

A green, golden glow emanated from her palm, swirling around your arm as it traveled up your body. You took in a sharp breath, feeling the cool sensation of the spell seeping into your skin and undoing all the damage from the past week. Humming, you slipped your eyes shut, feeling as her soft hand cupped your cheek.

“I always forget how amazing this feels,” you murmured, your heart jumping from her breathy laugh.

“Just relax,” she whispered, her thumb caressing your cheek.

You hummed again, your eyes fluttering open to see her gazing back at you, a warmth covering her cheeks. She was beautiful.

Leaning forward, you felt her breath hitch just before your lips met. She whimpered, her hand tightening around yours as she kissed you back. The kiss broke, for just a moment. Your eyes danced over each other, your smiles turning into grins before you kissed again. Everything was perfect and you wished time could stand still. Of course, nothing could last forever as the moment your tongue ran along her bottom lip, her hand slid to your chest and pushed you back. The lock broke, both of you breathless as she averted her gaze from yours.

“We’re getting carried away,” she muttered, swallowing hard when you feathered your lips along her jawline. “W-We’re supposed to be on a short break to shower.” A whine came up her throat as you hummed against her skin, reaching her neck with your mouth. “Master will be expecting us back soon…”

“I know,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to see her eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you suggested, “Why don’t we take one together?”

She blinked, the warmth on her face darkening considerably as she darted her eyes away. “We’ll get caught.”

“Oh yeah, by who?” You asked, going back to kissing along her neck.

Her fingers hesitantly laced into your hair in a halfhearted attempt to pull you back, but they instead stayed there, allowing you to continue. “Ahh, Y/N, please,” she begged you, her head slinging back against the door.

You paused, fighting the urge to push her further. Taking in a breath, you pulled back, leaning your head against hers. “Alright… I won’t force you.”

Her breath shook as she licked her lips and swallowed. Fingers tightened in your hair before sliding away, settling instead on your arms. Her eyes betrayed her words, a sense of longing and disappointment in them that you had stopped.

“No one will know… right?” she asked, her voice barely audible between you.

Your lips curved into a smirk, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

With a huff of breath, her hands gripped your shoulders, tugging you forward and crashing your lips together. You groaned in her mouth, your arms wasting no time to wrap around her hips and hoist her off the ground. Her hands cupped your face, fingers lacing into your hair as her legs wrapped around your waist.

The kiss broke, your eyes dancing over the other as you navigated towards your bathroom.

“You bring out the worst in me, you know.” she pointed out, swallowing your cheeky grin with her lips as she pulled you back into the kiss.

“Are you kidding?” You asked as you placed her back down along the tile in your bathroom. She leaned back against the wall, you leaning over her as you kissed her neck and murmured in her ear. “This is my favorite side of you.”

She took in an audible sharp breath, her fingers clawing at the back of your shirt to tug it off. You chuckled, pulling back and following her command, tossing the fabric away before your fingers undid the ties to her corset with practiced ease. The corset fell, followed by your pants as Aqua undid the buckle while you worked. You kissed her shortly, before turning to turn on the spray of the shower. By the time you turned back to her, she was just taking off her halter, freeing her breasts and making you breathless.

Before she could say anything, you were pressing her back against the wall, her breasts melded into your grasp. Her moan filled the bathroom, resonating off the tiles and mixing with the patter of the shower as the two of you waited for it to heat up. Kneeling down, you kissed down her neck and collar bone, keeping your eyes on hers as your swirled your tongue around her breast. She whimpered, biting her lip and slinging her head back.

You groaned, your hands sliding down her sides to her shorts. Hooking your fingers under the hem, you tugged them down along with her panties, leaving her completely bare for you. If it hadn’t been for the shower and constraining time limits, you would have gone further down, lavishing every inch of her until she was begging you to push her over the edge. Instead, you pulled back from her breasts, allowing your eyes to drift over her perfect body until her hands grabbed your wrists to pull you back to your feet.

“Less looking, more kissing,” she teased, giggling as you scoffed and kissed her.

“As you wish, milady,” you teased in return, sliding open the glass door to your shower.

Aqua went in first, humming as the heated water covered her body. You took a moment to admire her, taking notice of every curve and nuance to her form. It wasn’t often the you got the chance. One look from her though, and you were scrambling to get your briefs off and join her inside.

The hot water did little to douse your lust for her. Instead, it merely heightened it as your arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She grinned, her hands lacing behind your neck as she pulled you down to her level to meet her lips. You hummed into her mouth, your hand drifting downwards to her hips and backside to press her up against you. She moaned, feeling your hardened shaft rubbing between you. Her hips rolled, making your breath hitch and the kiss break.

With a smirk, she lowered to her knees, making sure to grab the bottle of soap. Your chest heaved, lips parted as you waited to see what she had in store.

Perhaps this day wasn’t so bad after all.

Her tongue flicked along the head of your cock, matching the rhythm of her soap covered fingers as she stroked the rest of your length. You hissed, leaning back against the wall for support as the soap allowed her to move with slicked ease. Each little movement was sending your mind reeling and you wished it could last forever. But with a pop of her lips coming off of you, she stood back up, kissing along your abs and chest as her soapy hands traced the indents of your muscles.

“Oh, Aqua,” you whispered, your hand gripping the back of her neck once she was standing and pulling her to your lips.

Her breath caught, melting into a hum as your tongue danced alongside hers. Fingers wrapped back around your shaft, pumping and using the soap as the perfect lubricant. Blindly reaching over, you grabbed your bottle of soap, squeezing a generous amount into your hands before lathering them against her body. The kiss broke with a sharp gasp from Aqua as her breasts melded into your hands. With the soap, her nipples slipped between your fingers, making her a moaning mess.

Hearing her mesmerizing voice paired with the way her hand went pumping your shaft tightened the coil of pleasure building deep in your gut. Your legs trembled, your voice melding with hers whenever her thumb would accidentally slide over the head of your cock. Lips met back together, your tongues dancing and sliding against the other. One of your hands left her breast, wrapping around her back to pull her closer before your fingers trailed down between her legs.

She sharply moaned in your mouth as you met her folds. They were warm, begging to be touched and if her whines and whimpers in response were anything to go by, she had just been waiting for you to do this to her.

“Y-Y/N…!” She breathed out between your kisses, her voice trembling as her thighs tightened around your hand.

You hummed, slicking your fingers further in and sliding two inside of her. She gasped, her head slinging back and eyes slipping shut. You grinned, taking the opportunity to ravish her neck. Her hand laced in your hair, her voice filling the shower as her other hand continued to pump sporadically when she could focus on what she was doing.

“I want to hear you come, Aqua,” you murmured against her neck, suckling her skin.

“Ahh, Y/N,” she whimpered, her chest heaving and stuttering as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge. “I-I want to hear you, too.”

Your breath caught, melting into a long groan as her hand tightened over your cock. She quickened her motions, meeting your pace, until your voice cried out, breaking as you called out her name under your breath. Your legs trembled as you buried your face in her neck, cum spilling out of you and covering her hand.

Aqua’s hips rolled against your hand, watching as you came. You were sure she was saying something to you, sweet nothings and telling you how much she loved seeing you like this, but your mind was spinning too much to fully understand what she was trying to say. With a gasp, her body froze, her legs tightening around your hand as her head slung back.

She wasn’t as loud as she normally was, moaning your name under her breath as you continued to push your fingers in and out of her. All at once, her body went nearly limp against you. It was all it took to send you sliding to the floor of the shower with her leaning over you. Both of your chests heaved, your warm, naked bodies curled around each other as the afterglow of your orgasms washed over you.

“W-We’re going to be so late,” you mentioned, making Aqua sigh.

“Don’t remind me,” she grumbled, nuzzling against your chest.

You chuckled, your hand trailing up and down her back as the patter of the shower fell around you. There was so much waiting for the two of you outside your small temporary paradise, but all of that could wait. You’d make sure you got the brunt of whatever punishment was awaiting you for being late again. No matter what it ended up being, an afternoon with Aqua made all of it worthwhile.

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 11 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Tessering

Part 11, coming at you! This part doesn’t have too much Sonic x Y/n, but don’t worry my darlings, I am saving that for the next chapter ;) This one includes some mother-daughter relationships and tons of foreshadowing. Enjoy!

Warnings - slight angst, robotnik x stone mentions

♡♡♡

“Why so down, Sonic?” A man with a head as smooth as an eggshell asked his pet boulder as it sat next to him in his poorly repaired drone. The boulder had tiny little dents in its craters that were obviously created by Robotnik to form a dopey grin and two misshapen eye sockets. The man chortled to himself as he tapped the cracked glass where an electric blue quill sat, charging up his entire machine. “Aww, are you sad because I’m coming back home?”

Robotnik stared intently at the little boulder, watching as it practically began to sweat under his intense gaze. He finally sat back up and let out yet another loud chuckle, filling the silent air around him for miles. “Sorry to disappoint, bud, but you and your little girlfriend are going to be toast as soon as I wrap my hands around your puny little necks~” He sang out the last part, his time spent in isolation taking an immense toll on his sanity. His tethered and gloved hands expertly found their way across his very dented control panel, clicking on a bunch of buttons that ended up making the drone begin to whirr. The air surrounding him that reeked of fungus began to churn at the new winds. 

“Come on, baby,” Robotnik grumbled, pushing his prized invention to the limit as it began to levitate its misshapen and damaged body a couple feet off the ground. The engines worked in tandem with one another, struggling to compensate for the extreme damage that had been inflicted upon them. Even Robotnik’s expert repair jobs using the emergency kits Stone had made him place in every one of his drones wasn’t enough to make up for it all. 

He guessed Stone was right for once. Shocker.

The erratic energy being extracted from Sonic’s quill mingled with the artificial power he was able to save. As the drone began to sputter, he quickly grabbed onto the throttle in an attempt to steady the drone, even his hideously long mustache hairs twitching with anticipation. He had to do it. He had to make this work. He couldn’t stand another second trapped here with Mushroom Bertha, Mushroom Kick-Sonic’s-Ass, Mushroom Carl, and Mushroom I-Want-A-Hedgehog-Skin-Rug or IWAHS for short. After a couple of minutes spent in agonizing suspense, a little glimmer began to form in the air before him. A malicious grin made its way across his lips as he realized that his plan was working.

The energy coming from his drone was enough to cause a small rip in the universe, mostly due to Sonic’s alienated DNA and ability to tesser between universes. The tear grew a decent size wider, its edges glowing an abnormal white and a very faint image of what he presumed to be Green Hills glimmered within it. It was right there. He was going to make it! It was barely big enough for him to pass through, but it was all he needed. With a surge of energy and Robotnik practically gritting his teeth until they chipped, the drone shot through the portal in a flash of blinding light, crash landing onto a very mossy green ground. The impact made Robotnik slam his face against the throttle, but luckily his gigantic mustache hairs cushioned the blow. The drone slowly began to let off steam, already having used all of its juices to float for less than thirty minutes. A steady blow of steam began to shoot up into the air from one of the drones' important capsules, and Robotnik was quick to regain consciousness, standing up and practically falling back down into his seat from the excitement. He looked around the area, hoping taking over his entire internal chemistry as he looked at his surroundings. The hope died almost instantly as he came to a horrific conclusion.

This… this wasn’t Green Hills! 

What the actual fuck?!

There were oddly misshapen trees and abnormal creatures waddling around the perimeter and LOOP-DE-LOOPS?! The anger got the better of him as he picked up the boulder sitting next to him and screamed at the top of his lungs.

“God damnit, Sonic! This is all your fault!” And the tiny boulder was sent flying out of the drone to land against the grass, where it rolled down a hill.

It was safe from the evil man’s clutches at last.

Robotnik let out another frustrated groan and slammed his fists down onto the dash, causing even more smoke to secrete from vital components of the drone. But he didn’t care right now. He had been working on building up all of that power for months. To have it all lost getting him somewhere that wasn’t even where he needed to be - where those goddamn hedgehogs were! And now he was stuck in this crazy backwards land with nothing to defend himself with. At least back with the mushrooms the only predator was sleep deprivation.

And of course, that was self inflicted.

“Oh thank god.” A sudden voice broke through his frustrations. Robotnik’s head snapped up so quickly he was sure he heard his neck crack. He was expecting the worst: three headed bear, snake crossed with a lizard, horse sized horsefly, something deadly and positively hideous. So when he saw a little black and red hedgehog staring at him intently with ruby irises and what looked to be a gun and a little bag situated around his hips, he was very, VERY surprised.

“Well, who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Robotnik couldn’t help but blurt. The hedgehog looked incredibly relieved as he came closer to the drone, showing his gloved hands in a means of presenting no harm.

“My name is Shadow. I was created by your assistant, Agent Stone.” Robotnik’s heart stopped at the sound of his name. “He sent me through the different universes to find you. It’s taken forever, but I finally did it. I have more rings left to get us back to the planet where Hedgehog Sonic and Hedgehog Y/n reside.” 

Robotnik was floored, to say the least. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Agent Stone, the little guy who made delicious lattes and who knew him better than anyone else, MADE a hedgehog and sent him to help Robotnik defeat the two once and for all? 

He owed him a thank you. Or maybe more than that, if you catch my drift ;)

“W-Well then, I suppose it’s nice to have you on board, Mr. Shadow. Unfortunately, my drone was a bit destroyed during the movement here, so unless you have a giant bag of tools next to your gun there, I-”

“Don’t worry, Sir, I’ve got it handled,” Shadow interrupted him, turning around to point into a throng of bushy trees. “I met an Echidna along the way who might be of use to us. Perhaps we could brainwash him into assisting us.” 

Damn. Agent Stone really did a number on this guy. Robotnik liked it. 

♡♡♡

A few hours later and a lot of impressive manipulation, Shadow and Robotnik had recruited yet another member onto their team: Knuckles the Echidna. He was a very burly red thing with intimidating eyes and an unfortunate lack of brains. But, he had resources and his muscle could even out Robotnik’s brains and Shadow’s apparent fiery temper. They were able to convince him that Y/n and Sonic were two beings from a far away planet that were power hungry and had a plot to destroy the entire universe, including this planet. Of course, Knuckles was petrified and said that they must be stopped immediately. The guy was also pretty handy with supplying the needed instruments to fix up Robotnik’s drone. 

Of course, it wasn’t the best job, but it would have to do for now. After Robotnik had done his little patch job, the trio were beginning to prep for their return to earth.

“I assume that you are very excited to defeat the two hedgehogs, Doctor,” Shadow spoke with authority. “But I think it would be better to hide out in a secluded spot for a little while in order for us to build up our resources. We wouldn’t want to go straight into battle without being prepared.” 

Even though Robotnik was really looking forward to crushing Bonnie and Clyde, he had to admit that Shadow had a point. He nodded slowly. “We’ll hide out in the woods in order to gather resources and start the formation of Metal Sonic. Agreed? Agreed.” Even though he wasn’t looking for a confirmation, the two nodded despite. Everything was going according to plan. Robotnik had gathered two allies and had already begun his plan to form a metal-based version of Sonic. For two reasons, really. The first was to use Sonic’s greatest power and turn it into his weakness, and the second was to try and trick Y/n into not being able to fight the one that she loves. They were going to destroy the two hedgehogs once and for good, donating their bodies to Robotnik’s favorite charity: science.

But what these little twerps didn’t know was that a certain fox had been spying on the three of them ever since Robotnik had crash landed a couple feet away from his lab. It was finely secluded within the weeping willow trees, so he hadn’t been able to see it. But his security measures sure saw the mustache guy.

The little fox’s stomach began to fill with dread as he thought about all of this. These guys were obviously up to no good. Anyone who loved the color combo red and black was obviously up to no good. Especially someone who grew their mustache past five inches. 

On each side.

Those two hedgehogs they had been mentioning… What were their names? Bonnie and Clyde? Funny named for hedgehogs, but he guessed that their world was different than his. He began to rummage through the different gizmos and gadgets he had spent ages on until he finally gathered all of the materials he needed. His little gloved fingers found their way to his energy-tracker as he calibrated it to their energy sources. Funny, he thought. One of them was stronger than the other. 

He narrowed his eyes in determination, steadying himself as he thought of the realm they lived in and tossed one of his golden rings. The second the portal opened, he jumped through, landing on what appeared to be a cliff looking over a small town. Relief filled his orangish-yellow chest as he looked across. He hoped he knew what he was doing. 

Extending his two tails, he leapt off the cliff.

♡♡♡

“M-Mom?” Maddie stirred in her sleep. 

“Mommy?” 

The young mother’s eyes slowly opened to be greeted with the sight of her daughter who had tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight of her daughter in distress kicked all of the sleep out of her as she instantly shot up in bed and immediately started wiping away the tears. Most of them got brushed into the fur around her eyes, but she didn’t care.

“N/n, baby, what’s wrong?” She asked softly, trying her best not to wake up her husband who still lay sound asleep behind her. Y/n only continued to cry harder, her e/c eyes glowing in the dark.

“I-I’m sorry, Mommy. I-I didn’t w-want to see i-it, I-” Maddie gently shushed her, standing on her feet and expertly lifting up the frail hedgehog onto her hip, holding her like she was a toddler. 

“Y/n, honey, you’re not making any sense.” She glanced over at the clock and realized it was barely five in the morning. What on earth was she doing up this late? Y/n was in such hysterics that all she was able to do was plant her face into Maddie’s shoulder and continue to cry, her chest feeling like a million daggers were being dug into it. Maddie’s heart was ripping at the seams for her daughter, as the last time she had seen her this upset was when Sonic had died. She quickly and quietly took the weeping hedgehog out of her room, making sure not to make a sound as she closed the door to leave her sleeping husband alone, and continued through the darkened halls until they made it to the main bathroom. She closed the door behind them and set the hedgehog onto the counter, grabbing a wad of tissues and quickly dabbing her eyes while Y/n wrapped her arms around her trembling torso.

“I-I’m s-sorry-” She hiccuped, choking on the mucus being created from her tears. Maddie’s gaze softened.

“Sweetie, what on earth could you have to be sorry for?” To her surprise, Y/n’s eyes only filled with guilt and self-disgust as she looked down at the floor. 

“...what happened?” Maddie gently cupped her daughter’s furry face in her hands and stared into her liquid e/c eyes. The deeper she looked into them, the more she was able to picture Y/n before she had turned into a hedgehog, back when she was a human. The little hedgehog exhaled a shaky breath and wrung her hands together.

“I… I woke up to singing. And I followed it outside, and there was this… thing out there. It was calling to me, and when I touched it, this is going to sound insane, but it showed me pictures of the future. I-I saw Robotnik, and I saw me and Sonic with two other people and then… the last one… M-Mommy, it looked like someone was trying to k-kill me-” Maddie’s heart stopped in her chest, her eyes widening in horror. Fresh tears began to spill down Y/n’s cheeks even faster. “I-I don’t want to die!”

Maddie quickly enveloped her in a tight hug, pressing her daughter’s head into her chest and stroking her quills gently. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. You’re not going to die.”

“H-how do you k-know that? M-my powers are growing a-and I don’t know how to s-stop it, I don’t want to kn-know how we’re going to d-die, I-” 

Maddie hushed her, continuing to stroke her quills. They sat like this for quite some time, with Maddie consoling her hysterical daughter until her sobs finally died down and were replaced with melancholic sniffles. Maddie’s heart continued to pound, however, fear and confusion coursing through her veins. She was trying with all her might to wrap her brain around the matter, but she was the one who had had the worst time figuring out how Sonic and Y/n’s powers worked in tandem with one another. Even Tom relatively understood better than she could. She knew that Y/n had vocal telekinesis, but seeing the future? Little wisp-like creatures? It didn’t seem like those had ever been mentioned or used before. 

What was going on? Was her daughter truly in danger?

Her grip around her tightened. Y/n exhaled softly and it was then that Maddie realized she had fallen asleep. A small smile crossed her lips as she picked her daughter back up and began to make her way back into the living room. She could have just taken her to her bedroom, but in all honesty, she felt safer leaving her with Sonic than by herself. As she walked through the darkened hallways, she tried to silence the red alarms blaring endlessly throughout her mind. 

Something was wrong.

She could feel it. She didn’t even need magical powers to feel it. Her breath hitched in her throat as she made her way down the stairs, making sure not to trip as she entered the living room. Sonic still lay sound asleep on the couch, not having moved an inch since Y/n had woken up. Maddie gently set her daughter down on the couch, resting her head on Sonic’s chest and covering the two with a fleece blanket. Her fingers softly traced Y/n’s jawline as she slowly stood back up, a small, yet sad, smile staying on her lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she whispered into the silence. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

♡ a.a.

[carnal-lnstinct]

Conton City Lockdown

Summary: Time patrollers have returned from missions carrying an unknown disease and infecting others denizens of Conton City with it, forcing Trunks and Supreme Kai of Time to shut down most operations and training around the City and drastically limit missions for a while until they can get everything under control. Everyone is instructed to stay inside their assigned domiciles until further notice. "Who knows what that could do to the timeline if Patrollers pass it on during a mission?!" Supreme Kai of Time urges Conton. The Conton City Hero has also been quarantined with her current Master, Goku much to both their dismay as there was still so much training left. What other shenanigans can the two saiyans get themselves into while being all cooped up.

Word Count: 7,140 (Chapter 1) AO3 Rating: Explicit / Mature Warning: nsfw ( smut, explicit language ) A/N:  This was inspired by tumblr's lilhemmo/AO3 moegan's "Alone Together" series (Definitely check that out) and the recent events effecting the world today. An anthology of encounters with the beloved earthy saiyan, Goku who is the current Master of the Saiyan Time Patroller, currently known around as the Conton City Hero. I can't do anything but write in this quarantine so here we go! Also, it has been YEARS since I wrote smut so the rust will be very evident.

Chapter 1

This was such a waste of time. You didn't spend all this time getting stronger just to be thrown into hiding from some fever and little coughing going around. As far as you could tell only the humans and namekians were getting sick, but it was pressed urgently by The Supreme Kai of Time and Trunks that everyone take part in preventing it from spreading around lest more patrollers are put out of commission because of it. Even the Hero of Time was getting involved in it. Your long tail flicked in annoyance as you stare outside the window with a grump, upset that on such a perfect day for perfecting a new move you were stuck inside to endure the sounds of your current teacher gobbling down all your food behind you. "Never been sick a day in my whole life." You grumbled. Were you not all warriors of your respective races? Stronger than anything that has come at you? That was why you were all chosen in the first place to help fix time. As selfish as it sounded coming from the Hero of Conton City, it doesn't change the fact that sitting idle for an undetermined amount of time would settle in your warrior blood so easily. With a growl, you immediately turn to let off some steam, giving your own Master an earful, "How can you just sit there and eat at a time like this?! Aren't you the least bit concerned as to when we can go back out to finish training!" You snap, breaking the doe-eyed Saiyan's concentration as he looked at you, cheeks full to the brim and chopsticks hanging off his lips.

"Aw c'mon, there's no need to worry on an empty stomach. Besides, this place has everything! I'm sure if Bulma gets involved she'll be able to fix this up in a jiffy." Goku's muffled protest follows an audible gulp as he reaches over and pats the empty table setting across from him. " Now come on, as your fighting Master I order you to sit and chow down with me, or else!"

"Th- That's not how that works! You don't get to boss me around like a child!" You growled again, but so does your stomach, prompting your cheeks to tint a pink at how your body betrayed you in the moment. Goku hums an "over here~" sound as he pointed to empty space again with his chopsticks, settling back down to continue his assault on the various plates around him. You tuck your arms and turn your head away, however you do walk over and sit down across from him.  Your temper subsided as you begin to eat, pace picking up to match that of your Master's as the flavors settle on your tongue.  Before you know it all the plates are empty for the most part, leaving only small traces of food behind and some bones picked clean of their spoils. That really did hit the spot, but it only reminded you now that you felt 100% again there was no way of burning off the energy. The assigned housing of the Time Patrollers are pretty spacious, about the size of a one bedroom apartment but that could not accommodate a saiyan's training methods. Let alone Mr. "Go All Out" and his teaching style.  You were so excited to keep practicing the Super Kamehameha Wave you recently learned. In truth it wasn't that much different from the others you learned in your training other than its charge time, but it did pack a bigger punch and you needed to know how to effectively apply it in battle if you were every going to whip it out successfully. Goku's been pretty relentless in his sparring with you because of it too, purposely not giving you the opening you needed to apply the new skill but hoping you find your own way to use it for your benefit. You were so sure you finally had it, too. You sigh leaning back in your chair and craning your head back over the edge, hearing your Master stretch himself out as well and suddenly get up from the table. "Alright! Well, since we can't train anymore for today I guess I better get goin'."

"You can't." You point out not making any movement from your restful position. "Supreme Kai of Time says we all have to stay put. That include you, Kakarot."

"What?! No way, that's hardly fair."

You jerk your head up to look at him, scowling at his whine. "That's what I said hours ago before you started stuffing your face!"

"Well, yeah but see, If I use the Instant Transmission technique, so long as I avoid anyone whose sick I shouldn't get it." The larger Saiyan confidently explains with his signature grin. You sigh, knowing the logic was pretty sound for him but there was still some issues with that.

"There was a whole announcement about this from Trunks. It's airborne, 'Master' , and also passed on through physical contact. Even if you Instant Transmission back, there's no way of telling who has it when you come in contact with them or if you became a carrier while you were already here training others. Then you pass it on to everyone you know and all of a sudden all your Earthling friends are sick. There's no sensu bean for that, remember?" You explain to him calmly now, somehow hearing it from your own mouth makes it seem more of an emergency than Trunks and Supreme Kai of Time making their announcements throughout the city. "Sure...Bulma could be helpful somehow, but if she gets it too..." This really is serious. The despondent look your Master gives you all but breaks your heart as he sits back down and mull over what's going on. "Like it or not Teach', we're stuck here until they give the okay."

Realizing you're now going to have to accommodate your single space for another, you cross your hands against your chest again in thought. You know the Conton Bots are doing what they can to sanitize the whole city and keeping rations in order so cleaner utilities would be the best first stop. Your storage gadget may need to be cleaned off, too. Goku doesn't seem the type to carry around any tools so he may not need anything sent out for the bots. You have a pretty comfy couch he can crash on, too. Since you were both outside today, you're going to have to change. Luckily he left some spare clothes here the last time you trained, that blue tracksuit he got from King Kai's planet. You open your mouth beginning to bring it up but hesitate and a small croak comes out instead, prompting him to look at you curiously. If you bring up King Kai, he's sure to teleport there instead leaving you here alone. Nope! Not after this mess he made of all the dishes! You clear your throat and put aside that fact for a while. "W-well, you better get cleaning. These dishes aren't going to wash themselves." You cheekily say as you fold your arms behind your head, kicking your feet up at the table. Goku gapes at you.

"No way! You made just as many as me! What kind of selfish meanie makes their guest do all the work, anyways?!" He whines once again, looking over the pile of bowls and plates that stood higher than him in his seated position. You grin and shrug, snapping a finger at him, "Chop, Chop." Goku pouts, standing up and leaning over an opening among the tall stack.

"Then I challenge you for it! Rock, Paper, Scissors!" He grins once again, extending his hand with a closed fist in the "rock" formation. You tilt your head and smirk. He had you at "challenge".  You extend your hand as well in the same position. "Loser does the dishes."

"Ready?" He smirks, game face on.

"Yep."

"Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" Goku switches his hand to form paper "Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" You leave your fist to form rock.

"--Wait! Best two out of three!" You readied your hand again, intensely staring down his as he moves back into the starting position with a giggle.

"Fine then! Get ready!"

"Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" Goku switches his hand to form paper again "Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" You switch your hand to form scissors.

"For the win! Go!" You shout, excited.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" Goku switches his hands to form paper once more. "Rock! Paper! Scissors, Go!" You switch your hands to form rock.

You growl loudly, slamming your fist onto the table in defeat and rattling the stack of dishes, Goku holds two fingers air, posing for victory and motioning away from the dining table. "Alright! It's settled then. Looks like you still have more to learn, pupil." He giggles again. You could sock him in his face right now for that. But a deal's a deal. You'll settle this later when you're allowed to get outside again. "Don't think this is over!" You shout out after him as he rounds a corner into the main area of the domicile. Pile by pile is begrudgingly moved from the table to the sink, water running to allow it to heat up as you started on the chore. You mutter again, sure he cheated somehow in that last round with his freaky god powers or something to get in your head. Regardless, the pile was taken care of and the dishes were stowed away as you sigh with relief it was over. You make your way back over to the suspiciously quiet main area of your home to find Goku flipping through a book with a colorful cover. Once you noticed the black and white images on the exposed pages, you froze.

"What the hell are you doing?!" You fling yourself at the taller male to snatch the manga from his hands and curl around it to keep it from his eyes, using your tail as some makeshift bat to swat him away. "That's not for you to look at!" You shriek at him. No one must know the Conton City Hero was into such trashy reads. If one could call it reading.  

Goku with his hands up defensively takes a step back and blinks confusedly. "Woah, What? How come? It's just a book, isn't it? I, uh, just noticed the people on the front of it had tails like Saiyans." He laughs, "Is it like a wrestling book or something? They have some pretty weird techniques...Oh! I get it, you're going to use those as secret techniques to fight with."

"IT'S NOT FIGHTING!" You're louder and clearly defensive, but curiosity already has the best of your Saiyan Master. You get back to your feet holding the manga close your body staring him down with your dark eyes. "It's...literature." You pause, now averting your eyes as your face warms to a pink blush. "I...read it for fun, that's all."

"Oh..." He tilts his head after a moment of silence, "Why would anyone do that?"

"I HAVE OTHER HOBBIES THAN FIGHTING, JACKASS!" You snap again, energy flaring in your hostility despite the redness of your cheeks, making your master throw his arms up again defensively, somewhat shrinking away from you.

"Okay, okay! Sorry, I won't touch it anymore. Doesn't seem like my kind of thing anyways." He laughs more nervously this time, scratching at the back of his head unsure how to proceed to calm the atmosphere again. "Uh.. I guess I should have noticed it wasn't for fighting. I don't see how mashing your mouths together is gonna win a fight. " You shudder at his words, practically disgusted by his naivety. How in the hell was this one of the strongest warriors in all the known universes? Who refers to it as "mashing your mouths together"? You somewhat calm yourself after realizing he has no idea what he was looking through despite being left alone with it long enough to figure out. Honestly, it would be like explaining it to a child. A scrutinizing glare lingers on the larger saiyan's face making him waver just a little under your eyes, scratching a finger across his slightly pink cheek. "...What? Do I have something on my face?"

"...Goku." You straighten up, lowering your arms to your side with the book in hand.

"Y-yeah?"

"Have you...never kissed anyone before?"

His eyes widen a little more in their doe-like stare, innocence now present in his visage. "Kissing? What's that?"

You practically choke on your words as they all try to come out at once. "Y-You're kidding! Y-You're...You're married! With Kids!"

"Me? Married? I don't remember that. Oh, that's right. Chi Chi wanted me to be married to her a long time ago but I guess she got fed up with me and stopped asking me." He laughs once again, hand back on the back of his head.

You are frozen again in shock, the cogs are turning in your brain as you process and sum up the information you were given with a look similar to your Master's confused gape. The Saiyan Goku you know as your master is not married to Chi Chi? If time traveling and universe hopping had taught you anything it was that there were thousands of possibilities of how time flowed and it all kept a balance to their respective universe but what kind of timeline could occur in a universe where there is no Gohan or Goten? No one there to save Dende from Frieza's slaughtering henchman or defeat Cell in his perfect form? What becomes of the fusion technique if Goten is not there to fuse with Trunks and fight the evil Super Buu? How...could he have possibly achieve the Super Saiyan God form without them? You gasp, blinking yourself out of your trance. Is he just the strongest version of Goku? A version never anchored by family, who could train endlessly from master to master and only grow more powerful as time goes on. No wonder he's here teaching Time Patrollers how to harden their battle prowess and hone new techniques. It's an amazing thought, and frightening. "So-" You stepped closer, giving him the same look the demon Fu gave you before asking for some of your blood. "So you have never...kissed with anyone before? Not even as a reward for all the times you saved the world or cared enough about anyone to try it?!"

"Uhh...I guess not." He shrugs, guileless.

"Well..that doesn't excuse not knowing what it is! You saw Vegeta and Bulma at their wedding, didn't you?! Or...Old Man Roshi's magazines?" Kami, you hope that last part is a definite no. Your questions only seem to confuse your Master further and make him just a little bit uncomfortable with how close you were to him prying into his affairs like that. "Afraid not." He laughs, "I was actually dead when they got married. King Kai was busy training me in the Other World."

"....Oh." Is all you can say, backing off from him now. "That actually sounds very lonely of you." But it all made...some semblance of sense. Goku as you have come to know him has never seemed the type to be bothered by those kinds of things. A literal man child living out his dream of wanting to becoming stronger and fight the strongest out there with all his friends cheering him on. Same could be said for Vegeta but he has at least kissed his wife.

You take in this moment as you finally having something over your master who likes to rub it in how you need to become stronger to beat him in a real fight. Not with kissing! Though to be fair, your first kiss was a mistake on itself. When you really were a rookie Patroller out on a mission with others and you got slapped down hard by Perfect Cell into a Majin landing face to face, lip to lip as the yellow blob had surged forward to try to meet your impact and catch you only for it to end up like that and you both knocked down by the force of Cell's attack. It doesn't count, you continue to tell yourself, but in this case it could! You brush that off and smirk at Goku who is still looking more confused than ever. "Ha...So you're not the man I thought you were, Kakarot." You smugly say to the man you have deemed the strongest version of himself. A hand resting on your cocked hip, you jab a finger into his chest where it peaked out from the gi given to him by Whis. "No wonder you have all this free time to train."

The orange clad saiyan gives a childish pout at you. "How can you say that? Cut me some slack, I'm still a lot stronger than you." Here we go again.

"Tch- Well at least I have kissed someone before! And know what a kiss is!" You raise your voice back in the larger Saiyan's face, wearing your pride full on your sleeves.

"Well I don't see what the big deal is. It looks pretty strange to just do that to someone." Goku nonchalantly points out once again about what he's seen in your manga. How can he still seem so calm about it after seeing such an exaggerated version of it for the first time?

"People do it to feel good, Kakarot! It's suppose to make both people feel good!"

"Alright, Alright, I get it. Settle down now." He attempts to withdraw from riling you up even further, smiling innocently. "Wow.. Maybe someone should kiss you to make you feel good, huh?" Your face is pure red and your stun silent. You shrink away embarrassed he even had the nerve to say that. Here you were trying to get a rise out of him and he's managed to flip the script on you instead. Again! This was not how this was suppose to go. "Oh whatever!" You finally stammer out before slapping the book against his chest. It doesn't phase him, only making him laugh more.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). What can I do to make it up to you?" He asked, opened to what you suggest and oblivious to your wiles. Outside of combat, at least. But that was what made Saiyans such formidable foes. They treat everything like a battle. You eyeball him, measuring the depth of the suggestion. You did always want to learn the Dragon Fist or figure out how to unlock the Kaoiken while also in Super Saiyan form without burning out too much stamina so quickly. Those are off the table for now lest you explain to the Supreme Kai of Time and Trunks why you need a new home during a lockdown. Smiling like a scoundrel, you come up with the next best thing.

"Give me your first kiss."

"Oh, that's it?"

"What do you mean that's--?!" You cut yourself short and tuck your arms at your chest, attempting to keep your composure this time. "Yeah. It's the only way I'll forgive you." You move away from him and settle cross-legged in the open space on the carpeted floor, mimicking the same gesture he made earlier at you to sit down and eat, the open space in front of you awaiting his presence. He hesitates a little but then nods, walking over as well and sitting in front of you, crossed legs as well.

"O-Okay. So do I just-" Goku makes odd tilts of his head and soft motions forward as he looks at your face and try to figure out the perfect angle. You get the feeling he's going to just ram his mouth into yours like a headbutt and sigh, setting the manga to your side and taking his face in both hands. "Just let me. Close your eyes."

He obliges, the dark orbs disappear behind his eyelids as your thumbs gently stroke the skin underneath each eye. It should be nothing to just lean in and place a quick peck to his lips now, then rub that in his face as the woman who stole the first kiss of the Legendary Son Goku. But... you're not moving. A sensation in you chest pauses you. Nervousness. Your eyes scan over the surprisingly smooth skin of his face and how his messy spikes of hair frame it just right. He's so...calm about the whole thing. 'How does he keep doing this to me?!'  You scream in your thoughts. 'He should be the one nervous about it, it's his first kiss! I have the upper hand here!' You gulp, blush decorating your face up to your ears as your fingers tremble a little against his head. You close your own eyes now, moistening your lips as they lightly puckered in preparation for contact. You move in a little, but you are unable to bring yourself all the way over or even pull him in closer to make the contact. The beat of your heart quickens in your chest and in your ears. Goku impatiently peaks open one of his eyes to look at you, seeing the redness paint across your features and the light tremble of your form. Even your tail twitching the behind you in a frantic manner. If only you could see how his own face started to glow with a pink color, but he smiles through it. He closes his eyes back and in your stead leans the rest of the way to meet your lips. The contact coming so unexpected to you made your eyes jolt open and your entire frame snatch back, surprising you and your Master. Your face could not get any redder than it was now as you held your mouth. "Uh...Did I do it right?" He finally asks reclining back into his upright position. Your insides are going crazy, the sensation when your lips met bouncing around inside like a wild ki blast. 'Say something', you urge yourself, 'Say something!'.

"T-That was f-fine." You speak behind your hand, trying to will your trembling to stop. That small touch electrified you all over. Even thinking about it speeds your heart again.

"Hmm...You don't look like you feel good." Goku adds with a tilt of his head, a little disappointed that maybe you were sparing his feelings and it didn't work at all. He's fine with moving past it if it doesn't mean anything. Again, you're cursing yourself at the outcome of how he keeps getting the better of you. This isn't training, you shouldn't be collapsing under something as stupid as a peck on the lips. Especially not to him! Even like this, he wins. He's brought something new to the table and utterly defeated you with it all over again, leaving you to gather yourself and come back later with a new angle to overcome him. Rinse and Repeat. It would seem you both still have a lot to learn from each other. You lower your eyes and finally remove your hand from your mouth. "Can...Can you try it again?" You ask in a tone foreign to you. Gentle, meek. Even your cheeks have lightened to a soft hue of pink, dark orbs lifting to find the large Saiyan's face. He blinks at you before giving an even more gentle nod and leans over again with his eyes closed as you instructed him before. He'll get it right this time! A little more daring, you inch closer, unraveling your legs and crawling forward on your hands to lessen the space between you both, allowing your eyes to drift close as you pressed your lips to his on your own and let yourself linger a little more this time. Your tail sways in deep, slow motions behind you, and you feel Goku's large hand brace your cheek as he leaned even closer to deepen the caress of your lips together. Your own lips part in a soft gasp as he presses more, a passive hum from you eaten by the kiss, electrifying your whole being all over again. This was what a real kiss felt like? It's way better than good. Finally you break away from the kiss, body shuddering at fresh air returning to your lungs and you look up only to see the sable hues of your Master staring back into yours. "Better?" His voice breaks through on an exhale. You can only nod before a breathy "More" escapes your mouth and you do not wait for him to position himself for it. You just take it, you take his mouth against yours and anchor yourself to his face with hands on either side of his jaw. So eager to have it send that energy dance up and down your spine and down into the lower regions of your body. It's like the build up of a ki blast without the payoff of releasing it. But you're still trying, you gotta get there. You try to pull away for air again, but the larger saiyan's hands now gather you up from your knees and pulls you into his lap, pressing further to keep your mouths close. Your hands can only wrap around his neck to steady yourself as you straddle upon him. You take a page from your filthy reads and draw your tongue across his bottom lip, however you feel his body tense against yours making you pull back from the kiss. You make eye contact again, chests heaving together in out of sync rhythms.

"H-Hey, you did that thing like in your book." He notes, making you grin as your hands rested on his shoulders. He's seen more of it than you thought.

"Did you like it?" You ask, almost growling it out. That sound you made suppressed the innocent gleam in his eyes and something more foreboding had taken its place. His tone dropped an octave to a sinful purr when he opened his mouth again. "Yeah.." Your thighs squeezed around him as the sound rang in your ears and straight to your loins. It's like he is speaking to you in his fury, that dangerous tone he took up whenever he transformed into any of his Super Saiyan Forms. You practically drooled over it, your saiyan blood knew there was something powerful behind it and you were prepared to drown in it.  "I can do it aga-" Your voice, entranced by the shift in the energy is eaten by the Orange clad saiyan's kiss again and you can only hum deliriously accepting his embrace. Melting into it. Thank Kami, you did not remind him of the North Kai's planet. Only Goku could learn a new trick and adapt to it in record time like this and leave you on cloud nine with just a kiss. You hate him for it. He is not suppose to have this kind of control over you, Trainer or not. But you get the feeling this is going both ways. He can't seem to take enough of you in his hands either. His kiss has become so greedy but his hands remain so chaste. You feel them at the small of your back just above where your tail jutted out and pushing up to your shoulder blades as your equally wild hair tickles at his knuckles, smoothing over the fabric of your training gi as he squeezes your shoulders. Meanwhile all you have of him in your hands is his firm skin stretched across these tone muscles. Your hands had long slipped down into the collar of his top and gripped upon the bulging ripples of his back while caressing the back of his neck as he devoured your mouth. It's not enough to keep going like this. You withdraw your hands from his flesh to reach in between you both and tug at the knot holding his entire outfit together. "W-..Wait." He manages to speak against your lips in his normal tone before pulling back much to your reluctance slow down, but he takes hold of both your hands to pause you. "What are you doing?" How do you answer that? chest bouncing in short pants, you manage to put your brain back together and swallow to moisten the inside of your mouth again to give an answer.

"I thought you wanted to..you know..."

"Know.. what?"

God damn it, Kakarot. You stare at him in disbelief but you only have yourself to blame this time. Of course the man who didn't know what kissing was had any idea to where it leads. You sympathize with the Chi Chi of his timeline and praise her for quitting while she was ahead. You reach behind you and pick up the manga once again, opening it up to a random page displaying the ol' razzle dazzle before shoving it into his face.

"--Wrestle!" You emphasized. You feel him tense against you again as a meek "o-oh" sounds from behind the book. He laughs nervously once you lower it from his vision, goofy face brightened with blush.

"I-I don't know how to do that either!" He stammers out in his goofy tone. There is nothing but a deadpan stare at him from you. You can already see your hands wrapping around his thick neck and squeezing with the full force of your might for him rousing you up like this without any satisfaction to follow. But you know it's not his fault. You sigh instead and run your hands across your face trying to put it in words he would understand. "You like kissing, don'tcha?" You ask. lowering your hands from your face. He nods without hesitation, leaning against you some as if expecting this to lead back to it. "This will feel 100 times better. Kissing..is just a part of it. And it's call "sex", not wrestling...sometimes. Or... "love-making"..."Intercourse"..."Breedin-" No." Now you're nervously scratching at your cheek, thinking of all the innuendos for the act that may better suit his vocabulary. "...-Going to a level beyond kissing." Nailed it. Goku silently nods again.

"I get it now. Then...I trust you know what you're doing if...you want to go beyond kissing with me, (y/n)" He raises your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, face darkening in his blush as he watches you and leans down to kiss the side of your mouth. You can't help but wonder if he was torn between planting that on your lips or your cheek, but its...adorable all the same. "Of course," You answer, pressing your forehead to his as your hands rested upon his chest again. "Master." You feel his eyebrow furrow at that.

"That made it weird." He utters and lifts his head from yours. You roll your eyes and look off in thought before looking back at him. "...Goku." He grins at that and wraps his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder before burying his face there to keep your hair from tickling his nose. Your entire body shudders at that new touch of him there. Your hands, now free to continue where they left off, are back at the blue knot and with less fumbling from a clearer mind. You draw it through all its loops once its undone and pry open the cloth, lightly nudging him to release you just enough to slip it off his shoulders and remove it all together. There is it, all those muscles you could't wait to beat your fist into now traced over with your fingers. The body of the strongest man you know, and it's perfect. Not so much as a scar on him. You take his hands this time and bring it over to the knot that held your training gi together, sitting back in his lap and waiting for his hands to go to work. He blinks a few times, but follows through and unties the knot, leaving the sash to hang on either side of you. You rock your own shoulders a bit to knock it free of your body and slip your hands out, taking his hands again and placing them just above your breasts. Encouraging fingers urge  him to peel down the strapless fabric supporting your chest. Each breast bounces free once the fabric sits tight around your torso and you lean forward against him, bare chest to bare chest as you meet his lips again, one hand wrapped around his back to hold you close. Goku is tense all over, you can feel it in the way he flexes his muscles against you. You know he is desperate for the same purchase you want but not quite sure how to get there. This wasn't something he could just power up and blast a powerful ki wave to relieve. It's a whole new technique he's going to have to allow his body to fall into. There is small jut in his hips that brush your thigh when you settle a little closer, and your free hand couldn't wait to grab the length of it making the large saiyan flex suddenly again. A sharp sound within the kiss from him makes you tremble with excitement. You already have a handful of him and it doesn't feel like you're anywhere near the base of length yet. Trying to remain mindful of his experience, you gently stroke against the tent of his pants,

His hands are squeezing you biceps now, more to support himself under the sudden ministrations and he raises his head from the kiss to take a breath he desperately needed, his head remains tilted back as more of those sweet sounds fell out of his throat. You attacked him there next, drawing your tongue along the muscles there before pressing firm pecks up to his jaw. Your teeth scrape at his skin as well, slowing your motions around his hard length to drag out the pleasure for him only to be met with jerks of his hips for more contact.  "Look at me, Goku." You instruct him in your growl, his head lowering to meet your gaze. You can see the haze of his stare. He's a mess, putty in your hands already from just a little touching. "Does it feel good?" You ask, that scoundrel smirk on your face again. He opens his mouth to answer but your give him a squeeze, an indecent cry falling out instead. The muscle throbs in your small hand and you figure you better get this over with before he loses it. Letting go, you give his hip a pat to encourage him to lift up enough to pull his pants and underwear down, him taking the moment to adjust his legs from their crossed position and instead lay out flat in front of him, He removes his own hands from you, bracing them both on either side of him to support him up now. You take this opportunity to stand with your legs on each side of him and undo the draw string of your own training pants, slipping it and your underwear off and kicking them over, not wasting a moment as you lowered yourself back into his lap. Your eyes narrow on his exposed cock, it had more to it then your hand made you believe. Your finger slides across the tip and find some pre-cum shine on its surface, using your thumb now to smear even more to slick the skin from tip to base, all it's muscles throbbing at the direct contact of your hand. Goku's head lulls back on its own weight trying to endure as much as this as he could. To be so sensitive, you can only imagine he has never actually masturbated before, either. Truly, Goku is a pure soul. "Watch me." You tell him, languidly his head roll back up as a stream of drool slips down his chin. You lift yourself up on your knees to position yourself above him and steady yourself with a hand against his chest, the other wrapped just under the head of his length. You lower yourself enough to feel the head spread your wet lips a some, circling it against your clit and entrance to mix your weeping sex with the drip of his. You press it against you more only to slide down the side of his length, grinding your hips against his fullness a few times much to his torture. You had to hold it still to keep it from bouncing away from you before you pushed the head against your entrance again, this time allowing it to spread your lips and enter. You are barely containing yourself at his lament, finding it harder to watch you as you told him. You are a good ways down his cock before your body refuses to take anymore for now. "S-See...Beyond kissing." The Saiyan male managers to stare down at where you are connected as you slide your hands around his shoulders and balance yourself on your knees to drag your hips into his length, drawing back enough to slide him out and take a little bit more of him inside when taking him back in.

You set a pace to settle into with him, slow and tasteful stroke of your insides around him, wanting to pull more of him inside with each descend upon his hot thickness but such purchase needed to be worked up to. You embraced his head to the underside of your jaw, fitting his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to muffle himself against your skin. Your chin pressed into his hair, indulgent gasps from you breaks the rhythm you set as they fed into his lust. A few abrupt jerk of his hips becomes a pattern of quick, shallow thrusts that easily moved in and out of you. He's getting it now. Goku lurches forward and grabs your hips to still you enough to allow him to compose himself for a moment, long enough to pick up his own pace again. He pushes down on your hips to meet his thrusts and you feel the delicious graze of his tip at that sweet spot making you moan out, your core clenching around him in excited twitches for more. Before you knew it your skin was slapping against his as he could now bury himself deep inside of you. You had all but lost control of it now to the harmony of his moans and yours, the unsteadiness of him plunging into you in a mix of wanting to have you more for himself but hold out for you to feel good too, and then that lewd slick sound of your sex entwined with his. He's so thick inside you, the way his cock opens you up to accommodate his size and consistently knocks against your core, the desperation of his thrusts was pushing you to brink of your pleasure. You moved your legs to wrap around him now, trying to brace your heels against the floor to support his motions. A part of you is still waiting for that depraved side of him to creep back up on you, that enticed look he had in his eyes when he couldn't stop kissing you, and the vexing low tone he had. Instead, the large saiyan ruts himself into a frenzy of pumps before pausing deep inside, flush against your sweet spot as he spilled himself inside you. Your insides ate it up, mouth gaping as you are left gasping for breath and all of you clenched down around him to draw out more of his seed.

Goku moves your feet and lies back as you fall over with him, your own hips still slowly moving to ride out your own orgasm. You are equally heavy and weightless on his heaving chest, but his arms do not release you. You sit up enough to attack his mouth with your own, once again drawing your tongue against his lips and he does not shy away this time, letting you tongue slip inside and tease his to play with. He is so obsessed with you in this moment, cradling your head to his to return the kiss with matching vigor. You had already spent yourselves but still held so much passion in your actions. Of course, its not over yet. Goku shifts his legs beneath you, feet planting firmly into the carpet for leverage as his hands once again take hold of your waist much to your surprise. Against the half-hearted roll of your hips still riding the high of your orgasm, you can feel his pace pick up again. He's still hard inside you, thrusts now ravenous and unyielding in this new angle. You both just came, but he's already back in it. You haven't yet recovered from your first orgasm either, all of his movements are more intense and overstimulating. You cry out into your open mouth kiss, trying to will yourself through the euphoric agony as he continued. Your insides were so saturated with him, you know he was spilling out of you, that warmth trickling down to his balls and making your connection sound all the more lewder. He's wrestled control of your body now and looping your hips to meet his thrusts while your insides continue to twitch around him, building up all over again so soon. "G- Ah!..Go-" You can't even speak, pressing your forehead into his chest now as your toes curl in  and hands clench at his skin. And then..there it is..

"Look at me, (y/n)" That merciless octave commands you in his own winded breath. "I-I...I  wanna see you this time." Sweet Kami, you are a total wreck now. Your orgasm washes over you much more powerfully and hits you so quick this time you can barely process it taking over you. Before you can even raise your head to see his face, you are limp against his chest. Drunk on your pleasure. Goku uses a finger to lift your chin up, easily balancing the weight of your head to look at the smutty expression as you savored  his ravenous assault on our core. Your blurry vision sees him smirk, the dark fade in his eyes weakening you more to the bliss of his hips still smacking into yours. You wish he would relent for just a moment but you're stuck in his wiles now. "Does it feel good?" The Powerful Saiyan asks huskily, compelling you to let out a meek sob in place of a yes. His second orgasm wasn't far behind yours, clenching your hips again as your chin fell back into his chest and he rode out this one with you, more of his cum filling you abused insides again.

[dana-sculy]

Vive Ut Vivas - Chapter Three

Chapter Two / Chapter One

This was so far my favorite chapter to write! Let's just say it has a really cute msr moment, it has Melissa being really up to help Scully get some fun, and it’s based on both Mulder and Scully’s perceptions of the story. Feel free to tell me anything, hope you guys enjoy!

tagging @today-in-fic   (To read it in AO3, come here)

Fox

I check my watch for the millionth time today. It’s been forty minutes. Were these things supposed to last this long? Is she going to come here after it all or is she just going to flee to her sister’s home and leave me here alone?

I check my pencils inside the top drawer of the table. There are two left. The others now decorate the dusty grey ceiling. I turn to my shells at the end of the room, but everything’s cautiously organized in there now. Scully would be so proud. She mocked me for months, after we were assigned, for having such a lack of organization with my stuff.

Call it boredom, but I had to do something, anything, to fill my mind with other than Scully. Since yesterday, when Skinner told me she would be evaluated today, I couldn’t think of much else. I tried to find cases to work on, but they only made me think of crackpot theories I wanted to tell her, so I could see those beautiful blue eyes roll to the top or her head. So I cleaned my stuff, and it helped me get distracted for a while, but then I thought about how I would feel triumphant over her reaction to it, how she would pretend it was nothing but wouldn’t be able to hide her proud smile in the corners of her mouth.

It’s useless, it seems, to try to forget Scully. She’s in every little thing I do or think, and sometimes it drives me nuts. Going to Skinner’s office could be an option, but I don’t want to make her any more famous than she already is right now, after everything that’s happened. People already talk about her abduction, how it was as strange as our job, about how we probably sleep together, and I don’t want to give them more reason to spread these rumors about her. I decide to wait a little more.

After four, as I return from the bathroom, I feel a tiny pair of hands cover my eyes from behind, and even if it wasn’t for the size of her hands, or for the fact that nobody else would do that or even come down here, I’d still be perfectly aware that it was Scully. My body senses her presence like a magnet, like an invisible line that connects us, a telephone signal.

“So, what do I have here, a visitor? Isn’t it nice to be suddenly so highly regarded?” – I say that as I turn to face her, holding her hands with mine.

“Nice to see you too, Mulder.” – She gives me a wry smile, walking towards our office room.

She stops at the door, clearly noticing the place is cleaner than before. Then, she sits on the edge of the desk, legs crossed, slowly thumping her fingers at the table. There’s a triumphant look in her eyes, as she directs them to me.

“What happened here, Mulder? Did you get visited by your cleaning fairy godmother?”

“Well, Scully, as a friend once told me, this place needed some care.” – I tease her with a wink.

“Smart friend you have, Mulder.” – She stares directly into my eyes – “I wonder if she used to kick your crazy ass a lot.”

God help me, because how much I missed sassy Scully. I know she is just joking with me, but the truth is, she did had my back more times than I can count on our partnership, not to mention that she helped me keep our department going with her down-to-earth reports. I may not always agree with her theories, but in all honesty, she keeps me on the right track.

I come closer to the desk and bow my head to whisper in her ear.

“It’s not out of the realm of extreme possibility, Scully.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between us after that. My partner seems immersed in thought but, judging by the way she’s chewing the inside of her cheek, and how she doesn’t dare look into my eyes, I know she’s nervous too. She’s holding back something, and I wonder if it has something to do with her evaluation today. I was so excited by her arrival that it didn’t even cross my mind how maybe they didn’t allow her to go back to work yet.

As a profiler, the prospect of reading people’s behavior surges with quite frequency to me. It’s almost natural, their actions end up being noticed by my mind and then it follows its own path. With Scully, though, I never dared to do that. Despite the fact that I always suspected the reasons she was sent to me in the first place, as to debunk me – and her behavior was fitting quite well in that – it all changed when she entered my motel room in barely a robe that night on our first case.

She had just met me, and yet she allowed herself to be entirely vulnerable with me that night. It was an act of fear, of course, but she decided to trust me, and after that, I decided I was willing to do the same with her. At the time, I made a decision. I was never going to profile Scully. I would listen to what she had to say, and I would limit my watch to the signals she was willingly showing me.

We became incredibly good at that kind of communication, ironically. Sometimes we don’t even need to verbalize what we are thinking before the other gets the message. Sometimes our bodies show more than we could with a speech too.

Therefore, I know better than anyone that pushing Scully to tell me right now what’s wrong won’t do any good. Finding it out myself before her decision to tell me wouldn’t be right, either. It has to be in her time. For now, I just lift her face with my thumb and wait, looking into her eyes, asking for permission to know whatever there is to know.

“I, hum… I just came back from Skinner’s office. He’s approved my return to work any time from now.” – She finally speaks, keeping our eye contact.

“That’s the best thing I heard today so far, Scully. Do you agree with Skinner? I mean, do you feel alright to be back to duty?” – I cup her face with my hand and caress it softly. She trembles a little, but doesn’t stop me.

“I’m fine, Mulder.” – She rests her right hand on top of mine, which’s still cupping her face, and holds it. There’s a strange sense of déjà-vu in the air. Months ago, when her father died, we stood here in a very similar conversation. I suppose she’s thinking the same thing.

“I need to work” – her eyes plead me to understand, and that only makes me feel more worried.

If only I could go back in time and protect Scully from the all the damage I caused her. I never gave much thought about the costs of my pursuit of the truth: I had already lost my sister, my family; there was nothing to lose before. But after Scully, that was not true anymore. They’ve put her in the middle of our crusade because of me, because of what she meant to me.

What did we become?

Sometimes that question keeps me awake in the middle of the night. Partners. We are that, for sure, but partners would never be willing to go as far as we would for each other. Friends. Our friendship was built in a solid ground of trust, of mutual care, but is that just as far as it goes? Assuming we’re friends doesn’t seem to cover the deep depths of our relationship either. We’re deeply connected: by heart, by mind, we have a bond that irradiates into our entire lives. I know Scully’s favorite perfume, her favorite type of flower, how she loves the spring and how she was never afraid of the dark. I’ve held her in my arms multiple times, in life and death situations, whenever she needed support. She takes care of me so often; she’s always stood by my side.

That intimacy seems to trespass the territory of friendship in all aspects, except the physical one. That’s a line we never dared to cross, but it doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the sensuality Scully exudes, or how beautiful she is. I keep that effect she has on me inside elaborated mental boxes wrapped up with yellow tape written “do not cross”. Even so, sometimes it’s arduous to keep myself unaffected by it. It’s a dangerous path, to try to define us, and an even more dangerous one, to wonder what I’d wish us to be.

“Mulder, I can hear you thinking.” – She says, bringing me back from my thoughts. – “I’ve already spoken to Skinner, my sister is taking good care of me, and, most importantly, I'm alive. But Mulder, I don’t want to come back to a life where people treat me like I’m broken. I need to feel capable again, to feel strong. I need you to support me on that, please.” – The last word comes above a whisper; her eyes watered yet steadfast.

“Scully, are you familiar with the sea anemone and clownfish?” – She’s taken aback by my question, but decides to go along with it.

“Well, as far as my biology classes in school would allow me. Why?”

“Did you know that only select pairs of anemone and clownfish are compatible to each other? At first, the possibility of a fit between the two of them, not to mention a beneficial one, would be highly improbable. The anemone is protective, using nematocyst strikes to scare every kind of threat. It was up to the clownfish to adjust to that, in an act of not trying to eat her tentacles, like most fish do. In return, the anemone has evolved to not strike the clownfish. You see, they both had to move further from their natural behavior in order to create their relationship, and despite the risks, they work better together than alone.”

“Mulder, are you saying you and I are like fish?” – She muses with a smile.

“We don’t live in the bottom of the ocean, Scully, but that doesn’t mean we can’t relate to that somehow.” – She laughs a little, making me feel better for lighting up the mood.

“We also need to adjust sometimes, Scully, to make ‘us’ work. If you want me to adjust, I will. I just want you to be willing to do the same for me. You scared me to death, you know, I thought I’d lose you.”

“You’ll still have to put up with me for a long time, Mulder.” – She smiles. – “I’ll be your anemone, Fox Mulder.”

“Then I’ll be your clownfish, Dana Scully.”

—

Dana

The sun was lowering slowly in the sky, leaving threads of light lingered in it, mingling with the rolling clouds in a beautiful gradient of colors that stood upon its original blue, now mixed with orange, purple and yellow. Absorbed in this welcoming view, my thoughts drift away by their own will, far from everything.

I feel the soothing breeze that flows in the park, which is still crowded with kids in school uniforms that play nearby. Some other people pass through the bench I’m seated in, some jogging, others riding their bikes. It feels peaceful, to be around this kind of normalcy once again.

“Lost in thought, sis? – Melissa taps my shoulder before sitting next to me. She’s smoking one of her herbs.

“You know I’m a federal agent, right?”

“Sister’s don’t put each other in jail, Danes.” – she turns to me with a teasing smile. – “Want some?”

“Maybe I could use some of that.” – I give her a small laugh, but it ends up sounding more like a sigh.

“Oh, having problems with the man candy? You know, I could really help you with that if you’d let me, Dana.”

“Enough with this idea, Melissa. I’ve already told you, Mulder and I are just partners and friends if you want to know.” – I give her a serious look, and it only makes her smile more broadly.

“Are you saying he doesn’t make you weak to the knees, sis? You can’t tell me you don’t think he’s hot. That would make me consider taking you back to the hospital, because there would be definitely something wrong with your head.”

“Okay, okay. I’m not blind, Melissa. Mulder is handsome and very sensual at times, but it would be highly inappropriate to get myself involved with him, even if I wanted to.”

“You should try to have fun sometimes, you know? You’re too boring.” – She laughs and takes my hand, standing up.

“What are you doing?” – She pulls me out of the bench, walking towards the avenue and out of the park.

“It’s time for us to go do some mundane, silly stuff, Miss Federal Agent.”

Two hours later and I see myself being guided through the glowing streets of a crowded Friday night. I have no idea where Melissa is going to take me. It reminds me of our early days in San Diego: she could always find the best places for us to hang out, even when dad was on our back. That was something I used to love about her, the fact that she would always include me in her plans, either if it was a party she was invited to, or just a ride to the beach or the mall. She would never leave me behind.

Street lamps flicker on our way. There’s no wind, but is not too warm; the fresh air is perfect and the stars are a beautiful sight I’m not used to pay attention to. It’s funny how my mind seems to be noticing these things more nowadays: the stars, the quiet laughter from the couple on the other side of the street, the smell of candy coming from somewhere near. It’s interesting how things in the universe can be perfectly standing while your life has just come from its way upside down.

Melissa makes a turn four blocks away from her place, and she seems to find the pub she’s been looking for. From the outside, it looks pleasantly rustic. Its construction rises through time-worn bricks, and it's difficult to see through the windows, but the cheerful sounds from within can be felt outside. She rests her hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and push.

The ambient is crowded, but comfortable enough. Aside from a set of tables and a large booth on the back of the pub, the space is composed by a long mahogany bar and a number of tall bar stools arranged to accommodate any drinker who didn’t want to be seated at one of the tables. The ceiling height is pleasantly commodious, and I notice stairs leading to somewhere worth further explorations later.

“Well, sis, I must admit that you still have your touch for picking up these things.”

“Not so bad to stay with your sister, uh?” – Melissa takes the free reminiscent table for us, and makes a sign for the waiter. – “Plus, you really needed some fun in your life, Dana. Let’s forget men and worries for a little while.”

The waiter approaches us with a charming look in his eyes. He seems nonchalant about it, though; as if it was something automatic that he’s quite used to do. His bronzed skin and green eyes only add to the view.

“What can I do for the ladies tonight?” – He asks us with a foreign accent.

“Well, my sister here has just come back to life, so to speak, so what do you suggest?” – Melissa winks at me.

“Well, Ma'am, it should be something with a strong taste, yet soft, remarkable; something that reminds you how life is worth living, don’t you think?” – The answer is directed to my sister, but despite that, his eyes direct to mine as he speaks.

“I totally agree.”

“How about you? A lady with such fierce eyes must have an opinion of her own.” –  At this point, both the waiter and my sister look at me expectantly, waiting for a response.

“For now, I’ll just have a cold beer, please.” – The waiter nods at me and turns to Melissa, waiting for her turn to order.

“Bring me some tequila, would you?”

“Sure. And my name is Adam, by the way. Just call me if you need anything.” - As he storms out to get our drinks, she turns to me.

“So much for having fun, Dana. You should be the big sister, you know.” – Melissa points a disappointed look at my direction.

“I’m not looking so forward to having a massive headache in the morning, Missy. Plus, someone will have to be sober enough to take care of the both of us.” – She laughs at that.

“You should really live the moment more, instead of worrying that much about the future, sis. After what happened to you, I thought you’d get better at that.”

I remember the hospital nights and the complete sense of soreness I felt on my body for a moment. It makes me tremble a little, and Melissa notices it instantly. There’s no breeze of air coming at our direction, so I’m pretty sure she guessed it was no weather that caused that.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you feel bad, Dana.” – She reaches her hand out and places it on top of mine.

“I’m fine, Missy. Can we just… not bring that up just yet? It’s too soon, please.”

“Sure. Let’s talk about something else.”

We talk for several minutes and the conversation becomes lighter. We talk mostly about my sister’s recent life: how he’s just broken up with a boyfriend I never got to meet, how she’s been really enjoying her new job, how mom still thinks she should go back to church. I realize there’s a lot about her that I’ve lost, not exactly just because of my disappearing, but because, with the busy routine I was living before that, I ended up not being very present in her life.

I wonder if Missy noticed that through the years. She’s done so much for me in the past months, in the hospital, and now opening space in her daily life to take care of me… I was so worried about the FBI, about my own personal issues that I didn’t stop to think maybe Melissa only wanted something I’ve been neglecting her in a long time: to be with me.

Maybe she was right about living the moment, after all. All I’ve done was to worry about myself, while she was just trying to enjoy spending time with her sister. Maybe it’s time for me to give her what she wants.

“You know what, Missy, I think maybe you were right.”

“Wow, the alcohol must be working well, because I can’t believe you just said that.” – She mocks me, contented. – “About what, specifically?”

“Well, about me not living my best life lately. I see how much yours changed, and I wasn’t even there to be part of it. I’m sorry, I haven’t been exactly the dream family lately, have I?” – I give her a sorry look and a sad smile.

“Well, you’ve been distant. I wondered why for quite some time. We used to talk about everything, even when we were apart. I guess changing is part of life but… can we come back to that? I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too. I was so involved with my career, with… things I can’t explain to you. I suppose I tend to close myself off to the people I love.” – She returns my smile, staring at me.

“That you definitely do. I’ll tell you this: I don’t care how you live your life, as long as you are happy. And as long as you trust me to be part of it. Deal?”

“Deal.” – I say, squeezing her hand.

At this point, our glasses are barely empty. I scan the pub until my eyes find what I was searching for.

“Adam!” - I shout for the waiter, who’s carrying an empty bottle that was left on the bar.

He notices me from the crowd and approaches our table pleased.

“Here I am. Would you like some more beer?”

“In fact, I think it’s time for that drink you suggested me. Bring me your best, and fill a glass for my sister here too.” – I give him a teasing wink that only improves his delight. – “It’s Dana, by the way.”

[dance-with-sum1]

Mayhem Go Round | Nessa & Nadia

TIMING & LOCATION: The Carnival

PARTIES: @humanmoodring & @dance-with-sum1

SUMMARY: The Not-So-Merry Go Round throws some people around.

TW: None

Nessa just found the Carnival so darn intoxicating! She was usually drawn to places of excitement and reverie, but this was something else! The mimes, though a bit unsettling at first, were a blast. The ferris wheel, you could ride it forever! Not to mention the food and the games! She wondered how many of White Crest’s citizens knew who they were really playing games with, but honestly, she didn’t really care. What the squishers didn’t know would only benefit the fae running the booths. Twirling a bit and inhaling the sweet scent of fatty fried foods, Nessa pondered where to go next.

“You’re up, little lady!” A booming voice rang out behind her and a pair or rough hands pushed her up the small, metal stairs. “W-what? Oh! No, I’m not in line-” Nessa’s eyes went wide when she realized she’d inadvertently entered the line for the Merry Go Round, probably the only ride in the entire place she’d steered clear of. Hooves. Way too many hooves. But they were just plastic! It was fine, she told herself as she shuffled over next to a dark haired woman. “You er- you’d think there would be an age limit for these guys, right?” She chuckled nervously, an out of place look of apprehension written plainly across her face.

The carnival, Nadia had decided, would be a damn good place to do a bit of pickpocketing. Crowds of people were always bumping into each other, getting jostled, and, damn it all, sometimes people just lost their wallets in the process. Really, if she thought about it long enough, Nadia was doing them a favor. These people were just going to waste their money on some cheap carnival ride. They were gonna lose it anyway; she was just making sure the money went towards something worthwhile, like new motorcycle parts or bullets or fine liquor. She’d picked two hundred dollars in cash, three credit cards, and five relatively nice wallets in the few hours she’d been at the carnival. The last time she’d been in a place like this had been in Texas about three years ago, so she bought some cotton candy for old times’ sake. Somehow, as she was walking around, she ended up in line for the Merry Go Round. Not her first choice; she liked thrill rides, things that got her blood pumping. But she was in line, so she figured she might as well stick around. The woman maneuvering beside her, her apprehension both visible on her face and coming off her in waves, didn’t startle Nadia too much, and she smiled at the question. “You’d think,” she said, taking a bite of the cotton candy. “This is kind of kids stuff, but maybe it’s a slow day for the carousel. Looks like we’re the only two people they managed to rope in for a while.” One of the workers motioned them forward.

Nessa took a cautious step forward towards one of the less menacing looking mounts, a small purple donkey. Donkeys were at least a tiny but smaller than horses, but just as strong and just as terrifying. She wondered how humans let their children ride these things without fear, but that was only one of the many mysteries of the squishers. “Yeah! Hah! I guess we get the thing to ourselves!” Yayyyy, she thought. At least only one person would be witness to her sour mood. “I bet it’s a short ride anyway. Kids don’t like sitting in one place for long, right?” Speaking more to herself than the other woman, Nessa clenched her teeth and swung a leg over, settling herself into the saddle. “Sorry you got roped into this with me, but it’s nice to have a riding partner!” Nessa hoped her small joke didn’t fall too flat. Oi, was she out of her element.

Oh. Fuck. Nadia didn’t realize she was supposed to actually get on one of the fake animals. Where were the little seats for parents that these things were supposed to have? That was where she wanted to sit and eat her cotton candy and wait for the ride to end so that she could get back to work. She picked a red horse not too far from her new acquaintance’s donkey. Damn, these fuckers were lifelike. The horse was the size of a real one. It was almost like it was breathing at times. Nadia blinked that thought away, she needed to get some glasses. “Nah, kids don’t like sitting still much. Can’t say I blame them.” She did enjoy the small reprieve, though. Even after six years of getting used to it, emotions were overwhelming, and carnivals were full of just as many negative emotions as they were positive ones. The woman next to her, for instance, though muted (probably not human), was feeling more than a little uncomfortable in their predicament. “No need to apologize, babe,” Nadia said with a smile and a wink. “You seem like pretty good company.”

Nessa squirmed in the saddle, trying to force out one of her signature smiles. “Under normal circumstances I might agree with ya,” she chuckled. Nessa had never ridden any sort of animal before. It simply wasn’t something glaistigs did. Not only was it mildly offensive to ride something that had such similarity to her own anatomy, but the beasts were just terrifying. They were huge, they had weird teeth, they had no regard for clothing or manners. Not to mention they could kill you with one kick if they wanted! But these were fine...they were plaster and fake and just a ride. “Sorry, I’m just not a huge fan of horses...or goats. Or donkeys, as it were,” she nodded down to the obscene creature she was straddling. “Hold on to yer horses, lassies!” The worker yelled in an over-exaggerated southern accent as he slammed the ride into motion. Only it didn’t seem to be working right. The main part of the carousel wasn’t moving, however something was lurching forward.

Damn. This girl really was uncomfortable, wasn’t she? Nadia almost felt bad for her. “Hey, don’t sweat it. At least they’re not real, right?” Merry go rounds were kind of child’s play; nothing really intimidating about a couple of shittily painted animals going around in a circle to carnival music playing in the background. But fears weren’t exactly logical. And this merry go round was pretty fucking weird. Nadia’s horse almost felt like it was breathing. That was… odd, to say the least. And when the worker started the ride. “What the fuck?” Nadia yelped as the horse sprung into action, not the ride. She attempted to grab onto something, but… it wasn’t a real horse. She’d ridden a horse for the first time several years ago, after splurging a bit of money to get the Wild West experience. This machinery underneath her seemed to breathe and move like a real animal, but there was nothing for her to hold onto. She jerked forward and gripped the creature’s neck as tightly as she could. “What the fuck!”

A loud bleat escaped Nessa as she doubled forward, attempting to grasp anything to keep her from falling off and being pummeled by the creature’s plaster hooves. “WHY ARE THEY MOVING IS THIS NORMAL??” She screamed and clenched her eyes shut as if that would erase the horror from happening. Judging by the other woman’s reaction no, this was not how merry go rounds usually worked. “Make it stop!” She squealed at the carnival worker who simply laughed in return. At least the things weren’t running off through the rest of the fair, but it was bad enough just galloping along in circles. “How- do you- stay on?!” Nessa looked desperately at her riding companion who seemed so cool and collected only a few moments before.

Gritting her teeth, Nadia attempted to hold on to the make believe horse for dear life. “They’re, uh, not supposed to move like this, girlie,” she forced out as she scanned the beast quickly. Without a mane or bridle to grasp onto, she simply wrapped her arms around the creature’s plastic neck, feeling its muscles twitch under her hands. She felt dizzy, in a way that wasn’t just from the motions of the merry go round. She felt too light. For a moment, terror gripped her as she thought she was being forced from her body, but the pounding of her heart grounded her. She slumped forward a bit before she tried to fight through whatever fatigue was overcoming her. “Just hold on,” she told her companion, focusing on the other woman’s fear and desperation. She turned her head in time to lock eyes with the carnival worker, memorizing his face, his laugh, his smugness. Something in her eye caused his smile to dim.

Nessa clutched her mount for dear life, her claws protruding slightly as she struggled to stay attached. “That’s the plan!!” The beast below her jumped and jostled and Nessa wondered why on earth anyone in their right mind ever rode these things EVER, and especially why anyone would make a children’s ride out of the terrifying creatures. Though she supposed if this ride was a normal one and not bewitched by some sort of magical nonsense it might be a bit safer and more fun. “Turn this off RIGHT NOW SIR!” She screamed, her high pitched voice not exactly embodying a tone of authority. “This can’t go on forever, can it??” Though the ferris wheel sure had lasted quite a long time...Nessa’s stomach began to turn at the thought of being stuck on this thing for hours. “Oh I think I’m gonna hurl…”

This wasn’t anywhere close to riding a real horse, but Nadia managed to hold on. She felt impossibly weak, like she didn’t have a body again, and she kept feeling herself slip a bit as she tried to stay on the ride. “Why are we moving so fucking fast?” she snarled out. “This is a fucking kids’ ride.” A kids’ ride that was moving far too fast and with machinery that obviously wasn’t normal. This had to be some kind of fae fuckery. Or maybe it was just regular, run of the mill supernatural fuckery. But it was a load of fuckery, this much Nadia was sure of. “Can’t last too long,” she said loudly to her companion. Ugh, her head was spinning faster than the ride. At least her pounding heart was a stabilizer. As long as she could feel it, she knew she was alive. She managed to laugh a bit, higher in pitch than normal and a little hysterical. “If you’re gonna hurl, make sure not to do it in my direction, babe. I don’t wanna join you.”

Nessa groaned and threw the woman a look of desperation. “If I can aim, you got it, love!” The glaistig slammed her head against the plastic neck of the donkey and she let out a small, pained bleat. It was like the damned thing was trying to make this whole ordeal as painful as possible. “This- isn’t- supposed to be- a thrill ride!” Nessa LOVED thrill rides. But she usually knew she was going on one before it happened. After what felt like EONS, the beast below her began to lose steam – or so she thought. Loosening her grip for a millisecond, Nessa unclenched her eyes and looked up at the other woman. “I- I think it’s stopping!” As if on cue, the plastic creature gave a final lurch before screeching to a halt, suddenly devoid of all sense of life and motion. The unexpected standstill threw Nessa forward, over the head of the donkey and flat on her ass in the middle of the ride. Huffing a piece of hair out of her eyes, she could have sworn she heard the beast chuckle at her. “Why I oughta-” she warned at the inanimate object.

One thing was certain: someone was gonna have hell to pay when Nadia got off that ride. “Well, it’s certainly,” she said, her breathing harsh, “thrilling.” It felt like she was clinging to the plastic horse for hours, dizziness frequently causing gaps in her memory. She almost fell off two more times, her grip too weak to hold on. When the horse jerked to a stop, Nadia slammed forward. Still holding on, she managed to slide off the plastic horse. She groaned and placed her head between her knees, trying to stop the spinning and ward off the nausea. “Fuck. I need a minute.” Just a minute, and she was going to get up and kick that fucker who was controlling the damn ride in the ass. And maybe the teeth. Guy was gonna be in some major pain before she was done, though. She looked over to her new friend, who was threatening the purple donkey she’d been held captive by. Nadia laughed a bit. “I think you scared him stiff.” None of the animals were moving, anymore. It was as if they’d never moved in the first place.

Stretching and testing her limbs to make sure no damage was done, Nessa tried to glare at the woman’s joke, but she just couldn’t. A smile slowly spread across her lips and she shook her head, pushing herself up to her feet. “Good. Serves him right!!” She chastised the plaster donkey once more, giving it a final slap for good measure before flinching, just in case it decided to retaliate. “I’m Nessa, by the way. Here,” she offered a steadying hand, leading them quickly over to the exit. This had been by far her least favorite experience with the carnival and she didn’t want to remember the night on such a down note. “I can say with extreme certainty that I will not ever be doing that ride again.” Nessa glared at the carnival worker, keeping his face burned in her memory for a later date. Perhaps a week’s worth of fae pranks would change his tune a bit.

Nadia allowed the other woman to lead her off the ride, her head still spinning and her body feeling a bit too heavy. “I’m Nadia,” she said. Laughing, she added, “Nice to meet you. Wish it was under less stressful circumstances.” She took the time to look at the carnival worker, not unlike Nessa. However, where Nessa had glared, Nadia smiled. Soft, gentle, charming with a little something else. She knew how to read emotions and present emotions adequately through facial expressions and body language while still being unreadable. In animals, the baring of teeth meant danger. The worker’s thoughts were filled with snarling dogs as he looked at her, and his smugness was tinted with a bit of fear. Good. He should be afraid. Nadia looked back at Nessa. “I can safely say that I’ve never been on a carousel like that one, but I don’t think I’m gonna risk anything like that again.” Nessa seemed like a nice person. Cute, bubbly. It wouldn’t hurt Nadia to keep her around. She allowed concern to color her voice as she asked, “You doing alright after all that?”

Nessa took a deep breath and raised her arms in a yoga-like pose, centering herself. The plaster donkey couldn’t hurt her anymore. Or anyone else, if she could get back to it when no one was around. She’d be sure of that. She smiled, the expression flooding every inch of her tiny body. “Yes, I think I’m alright. Now that my feet are firmly on the ground,” she specified. The fae wasn’t adverse to being in the air, but she much preferred to have her hooves connected to the earth. Not only was it safer, it helped her feel truly connected to herself. Oblivious to the viciously sweet smile Nadia gave the worker, Nessa threw her arms around the other woman and trapped her in a quick bear hug. “Thank you so much for not making fun of my stupid little fear. I just- I don’t even like riding real horses.” Her eyes flitted back to the purple monstrosity. “Or half horses, at that.”

Hugs weren’t really Nadia’s thing, but she allowed the other woman to give her one, even offering Nessa a pat or two on the back before she stepped away. “Hey, yeah, don’t sweat it. Lots of people don’t like riding big animals.” She, too, glanced at the ride. “And, after that load of bullshit, I don’t fucking blame them. That’s actually right on up there in my top worst experiences in this town.” She gave Nessa a soft smirk. “The company’s the only thing that made it alright.” That, and the amount of money she’d picked up before getting on the damned contraption. See, Nadia wasn’t aching for money. The opposite, really. But she liked having a surplus, and then a surplus on top of that surplus. And she kind of liked picking pockets. It was an enjoyable pastime, and the risk of getting caught added to it. So, despite the fact that she was going to come back and bust the worker’s head open, she was still in a pretty good mood, if a little lightheaded. “Wanna grab a bite to eat? The ride’s around here seem a little touch and go, but carnival food always kicks some major ass.”

Nessa’s face lit up and she bounced up and down, almost as if she hadn’t just been holding onto the neck of a sentient purple donkey for dear life just a few minutes before. “I’d love to! Have you tried anything in the carnival yet?? I’m a pretty big fan of the funnel cakes, especially if you have them add some of those syrupy strawberries on top! And extra sugar! Oh- and the corndogs! I swear, they’re magical. ” Nessa reached out and snaked her arm through Nadia’s. “It may have been hellish, but it’ll be one hell of a story,” she winked, leading them off towards one of her favorite food booths in the fair.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Everything Money Can Buy (8/12)

Summary: The Greatest Store in the World AU. When misfortune strikes and leaves Emma Swan and her son homeless just before Christmas, the ever-resourceful Emma has a ready solution. They’ll move into Mills Department Store, a place they can only dream of affording to buy from. It’s not easy, having to deal with a perpetually grumpy doorman, a nasty assistant manager, and an extremely suspect Santa, but Emma and Henry soon learn that the kindness of strangers is something money can’t buy.

Swan Believer centric, with eventual Swan Queen and background Rumbelle and Dwarf Star.

Rated: G

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [AO3]

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Eight

It was Christmas Eve, and despite everything, Henry was feeling rather upbeat about it. They had snuck out of Mills with the cleaners like normal, and they had spent most of the rest of the day walking around town trying to keep warm, holing up in the library when it got too cold to stay outside. 

Unfortunately, the library was closing early due to it being Christmas Eve, and so they had come back to the slightly less well-stocked and slightly more upmarket library that was the Mills book department. Gold hadn't said anything as he'd let them in, but at least he hadn't stopped them. Maybe because he hadn't seen them leave in the morning, he could claim some kind of plausible deniability for himself.

Mum had gone to check on the bags, and Henry was sitting in his usual armchair, tucked away behind a pillar, hidden from the view of the cash desk by a strategically placed display of Harry Potter merchandise. The display had not been strategically placed there when Henry had first started hanging around in the department, but he had moved it by inches with no one noticing and now he had quite the cosy hideaway.

"Pst!"

Apparently, not quite hidden away enough. Cautiously, Henry looked over the top of his book to see Astrid from the tearoom peeping around the Harry Potter merchandise. She smiled at him and squeezed past the display, catching the life-size sorting hat as it toppled precariously from its perch.

"I thought I might find you here; I've seen you here a couple of times."

Henry didn't say anything, very much wishing that Mum would come back from the camping section in the nick of time and rescue him from whatever predicament was about to unfold. Although, then again... He thought of the past couple of evenings, of the sell-by food packed away separately in the fridge ready for them so that they wouldn't have to hunt for it, the very splattered chocolate cake.

"Leroy and I clubbed together and used our staff discount to get you some things." She handed him a small carrier bag from the food hall. "Stuff that's got really long sell-by dates that you wouldn't get to have ordinarily. You know, since it's Christmas tomorrow and all."

Henry looked inside the bag. There was a Christmas pudding, a bag of candied nuts, a pack of Christmas cake slices, and a single serving bottle of mulled wine along with a selection of confectionary.

"There are also instructions on how to work the microwave without blowing out the plug," Astrid added helpfully. "They're on the back of the receipt. I know it's bad form to include receipts, but I didn't want you to be accused of pinching it."

Henry just stared at the gift for a long time, completely unsure of what to say. He and Mum had relied on the goodwill of strangers in the past, but this was the first time he could remember that something had been given to him completely unbidden and out of the blue like this. Astrid was about to squeeze back out past the sorting hat (it was a good job that it was supposed to look battered) when he realised that he hadn't actually said anything to her, least of all expressed his gratitude.

"Thank you," he blurted out. "And thank Leroy too."

Astrid smiled. "You're welcome. I think everyone deserves to have nice things at Christmas."

"How did you know?" Henry asked. "About us, I mean."

"Well, I knew that someone had been taking the sell-by food overnight, because you saved me a job sorting it and clearing it out in the morning. And I knew that I hadn't broken the microwave and it had been working perfectly fine when I went home, so someone else must have broken it between me going home and me coming back in the morning."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"It's ok." Astrid waved away his worries. "Leroy's a master with a screwdriver, he had it back up and running again in no time. And everyone's so used to everything going wrong around me that it wasn't exactly unexpected. Breaking the microwave is really quite minor compared with some of my other kitchen-based mishaps."

Henry laughed. "I'm sorry you got the blame though."

Astrid shrugged. "My shoulders are broad. Have a great Christmas."

"Thanks. I'm sure we will. How... How did you know that it was me? Out of all the people in the store?"

Well, that took a bit of detective work. Leroy and I figured out that someone must be staying in the store overnight, and we voiced our theory to Belle, what with her seeing everyone coming and going. I mean, I would have asked Gold because he really sees everyone coming and going, but he scares me witless. Anyway, Belle confirmed it and said that it was you. Like I said, we've seen you around here a lot in the last few days. No one spends that much time in a department store not buying anything."

Henry was slightly worried as to how many other people had noticed them. At least the sphere of people who knew for certain seemed to be limited to Belle, Gold, Astrid, and Leroy, all of whom he was fairly sure that he could trust not to betray their secret to someone with less benign intentions.

"Henry?"

Mum was back, peering around the display where Astrid was blocking her way. The waitress gave a cheerful wave and squeezed back out.

"Merry Christmas!"

Mum stared at her retreating back for a long time, then she looked at Henry, then back towards Astrid, who had long since vanished into the crowd, up towards the tearoom again.

"Have I wandered into a parallel universe?" She came into Henry's cubby hole, settling herself down on the floor in front of him and taking a look in the carrier bag. "God, I haven't had mulled wine for years. What's going on?"

Henry regaled Astrid's tale, not entirely sure that he wasn't in a parallel universe himself. For a long time, Mum didn't speak.

"I suppose that it just goes to show that there are good people in the world after all," she said eventually. "I've always been sceptical of the idea of the kindness of strangers. I guess that you and I have seen so little of it over the years that I just thought it didn't exist. You never get something for nothing; people always want something in exchange for their help. But Astrid, Leroy, Belle, Gold... They've all helped us out, in their own ways, and expected nothing in return."

"Maybe it's the Christmas spirit," Henry suggested.

Mum gave a huff of laughter. "Yeah, maybe you're right. It's almost a shame it's so close to closing time. We could have gone out again and shown Gold that we actually have a Mills bag this time. I'm not sure whether it would make him laugh or send him into apoplexy."

"I hope not apoplexy." Henry had no idea what apoplexy was, but it sounded painful, and since Gold had already proved himself trustworthy with their secret, he didn't really want anything too bad to happen to him.

Mum smiled. “Yeah, it’s Christmas. We shouldn’t really wish anything bad on anyone. And I don’t think Gold’s as bad as I make him out to be most of the time.” She paused, getting comfortable leaning against the armchair before looking back up at Henry. “He told me that he had a son your age, actually, so he probably doesn’t want to ruin your Christmas.”

“Huh.” It was strange to think of Gold as having a life and a family outside of the store. It had been weird enough seeing him in a Christmas jumper on that first morning when they were sneaking out.

He wondered if Gold’s son knew about the little romance between Gold and Belle, and what he thought of it. Henry personally thought that it was rather sweet, but then again, it wasn’t his dad. He leaned back in his chair, wondering about Mum and the dark-haired woman from the staircase. He was definitely rooting for that romance, whoever the mysterious stranger turned out to be.

X

Belle was in a quandary, and she was also in a hurry. It was only ten minutes before the cash desks closed and the food hall was already beginning to wind down for the night with fresh produce being packed away back to the central chillers. It wasn’t her fault that she had left her Christmas shopping so late. Well, it wasn’t exactly her fault. She had indeed left it until the last possible day, but she hadn’t intended to leave it till the last possible moment. She’d intended to buy on her lunch break, but things being as they stood, she hadn’t had one. It had been all she could do to persuade Zelena to let her off the desk twenty minutes before her time, because she’d spent her entire lunch break politely telling a customer that no, her Christmas hamper order was not ready for collection, because all hamper orders had to be placed before the nineteenth of December in order to guarantee collection by Christmas Eve, and since this customer had only placed her order yesterday, naturally, the hamper was not ready.

How it had taken over half an hour for her to get this into the woman’s skull was beyond Belle, but hey, unbelievable customers were all part and parcel of the Christmas experience.

Anyway, she had ten minutes left to buy, and she was stumped. At least it was only one gift. Indeed, it was rather a spur of the moment decision to buy it in the first place, which was why everything had been so rushed.

She’d decided to get Alistair something. Nothing big, nothing ostentatious, just a little something to remind him that no matter how bleak his Christmas might look, what with his son being away with his mother again, there was still someone who cared for him and wanted to make sure that his day had a little cheer in it.

“I recommend the caramel, personally.”

Belle looked down to see the little boy who was living in the store standing next to her. His mum was a few metres away, looking at a display of Turkish delight. She was carrying a small food hall carrier bag, and Belle smiled, glad that Astrid and Leroy’s gift had reached its intended recipients. The boy was looking at the rows of chocolate bars with the eye of a practised connoisseur, and he beamed at her beatifically.

“I love caramel,” Belle admitted. “The thing is, I’m not buying it for me.”

“Mr Gold?” the boy suggested. There was something distinctly mischievous in his eyes, but it was softened by a sparkle of genuine hope.

“I… What… How did you…” Belle’s shoulders sagged. “Yes.”

“Hmm. He strikes me more as a peppermint person.” The boy reached up for the peppermint bar in its shining turquoise and silver wrapper, but he couldn’t quite reach. Belle grabbed it.

“Yes, I think you’re right. I know he drinks peppermint tea; I’ve smelled it in the flask he keeps behind the customer service desk.”

Her companion gave an emphatic nod. “You know, I think I could be a personal shopper. That’s what they do, isn’t it? Tell you what to buy?”

Belle laughed at the summation. “Pretty much. Thanks for the suggestion, kid.”

“My name’s Henry.” He held out a hand solemnly, and Belle shook it.

“I’m Belle.”

“I know. It’s on your name tag.” Henry looked around the food hall. “Who’s that lady over there?” he asked. “We’ve seen her around a few times, but she never wears a name tag.”

Belle followed his sightline, but before he could point out the person in question, the five-minute warning came over the PA system and she had to rush to the checkout to pay for Alistair’s gift. By the time she returned to the confectionary section, Henry and his mother had both disappeared, no doubt slipping away to find a place to hide whilst the store closed down. Belle felt her stomach flip-flop in her mouth.

She should have warned them about the party.