#i need to clear off the drawer and top of the bookshelf and call it a night

[firstdove15]

Absolutely love making progress but the room still looks like a hot mess. OTL

[ms-demeanor]

do you have any tips for cleaning a space? I’ve been frozen trying to clean my room for 4-5 months now and just spent 10 hours reading through your adulting blog et al. and most of your tips have been incredibly helpful (despite me being much more on the autistic than ADHD side of the venn diagram)

YES. YES I DO.

Hi. On top of the ADHD I also have some history of OCD, which primarily manifested in being a hoarder. Like. Clinically. Like towers of stuff in my room and piled on my bed so I slept on the couch. In retrospect, cleaning it up was a problem for a number of reasons, but one of those reasons was executive dysfunction and not knowing how to start cleaning.

Long story short the way that I did it was by finding something called "40 bags in 40 days" where the goal is to remove 40 bags of trash/donations from an area in 40 days. 40 bags in 40 days was initially created as a challenge for Lent and a bunch of the people who blog about it do so in a manner that is religious to an extent that I am uncomfortable with, and there's this weird bullet-journal thing where planning ends up becoming aesthetic and there are charts and shit but you can ignore all of that, here are the basics:

Start with a written plan

You are going to try to declutter while you do this

Limit your scope each day so you don't get overwhelmed

Remove things that you won't be keeping in the space immediately; don't leave piles of "throw away" or "to donate" or even "to keep and organize later" stuff in the room you are clearing

Give yourself a firm deadline/number of days to do this project

The written plan: Break the area you are cleaning down into manageable bite-sized chunks. When I was doing this I moved in a pattern for increasing access to the room, because I literally could not get further into the room without cleaning some parts first, so my first chunk was "the space between the door and the bed" and then it was "the surface of the bed" and then it was "the nightstand." People who aren't doing cleanups on quite as catastrophic a mess might focus on even smaller areas (make each drawer of a dresser an area, or a single jewelry box, or one shelf in a bookshelf). But the key is that you have to sit down *outside* of the room that you will be cleaning and make a list of places that you need to clean. Don't stand in the room and look at everything and get overwhelmed because there's so much, don't go in and actually try to clean, just make a list of areas that you think you can do in an hour or two. And make sure to actually write it down so that you can use the list to refocus yourself - it's super easy to drift when you're cleaning and to move into another area because you found something that belongs in that other area, but you need to clean the other area before you can put more stuff in it, but you can't. You are focused on ONLY the area you've written down that day.

Declutter as you go: Do whatever you need to do to sort stuff you're going to keep from stuff you're not going to keep, Konmarie spark joy sort or rainbow label or whatever sorting scheme works for you, but you should have three categories of stuff: keep, donate, throw away. The "bags" in "40 Bags in 40 Days" is supposed to be bags of stuff to donate or throw away, but I actually made another category of bag which was "keep for memory book."

One of my huge problems is that I want to keep tons and tons of little mementos and business cards and stickers and fliers and photos and wristbands from shows and the thing is, if you do that you eventually have a huge pile of what pretty much looks like trash. So what I did was I had gallon storage bags (see-through) and any time I ran into some weird little memento thing that I wanted to keep but that probably seemed like trash, I would put it in the storage bag. Eventually I ended up with ten bags full of that kind of stuff, which I set aside for later, and in the end I put that stuff into three fuck-off huge photo albums with self-stick pages. They aren't organized scrapbooks or anything, they're a bunch of bullshit arrayed together in a displayable form, but it is so much better to have these three huge books than a million tiny piles of paper that I don't know what to do with. I also have a pile of tee-shirts I cut the image off of that is in a bag to become a quilt someday, and I have some small decorative boxes for stuff that I didn't want to get rid of but didn't fit in the albums and that wouldn't really go on display shelves or anything like that.

My "keep for a memory book" bags were more key to decluttering than the trash or donation bags, because a LOT of stuff that I had was stuff that I wanted to keep but didn't have anywhere to put. I *still* make bags like this. I have three or four of them right now, one of which is JUST stuff like wristbands and drink passes and business cards and fliers from shows I did with my band. I just fill up the bags until I've got enough stuff to sit down and work on a memory book for a while, then I go through and stick stuff in the book for a few hours. Having someplace to put all that stuff has been a huge help to prevent me from ending up with the same kind of messy disaster that I had before. This is my personal biggest kind of clutter and isolating it in bags and books has been an enormous quality of life improvement for me.

Limit your scope each day: Cleaning is mentally exhausting, and looking at how much you have left to do or getting distracted by uncovering another area can murder your momentum, so limit the scope to just your area for the day. You aren't cleaning your room, you are cleaning the surface of your desk today. You aren't cleaning your room, you are cleaning the floor of your closet today.

If you're feeling up to it, you may be able to move through several areas on your list in one day - that happened to me a lot, and 40 days ended up becoming more like 15 days - if that happens, and you're up for it, feel free to move on to the next area. But you still should be limiting yourself to the areas in your list, not the room generally. Don't finish cleaning the bottom of the closet and then look up and go "I can clean this whole thing, actually", if you finish cleaning the bottom of your closet and feel like working on cleaning still, move on to the next area on your list instead of randomly attacking everything.

Remove stuff from the space that you're cleaning while you're cleaning it: take any full bag of trash or donations out right away, but also remove stuff that you need to reorganize later. For example: I had books on every surface in my room, but the book shelves were on the wall furthest from the door. Instead of trying to put every book I found on the shelf, I set aside books as I cleaned and took them out of the room so that I could put them on the shelves when I got to them, but wouldn't be tripping over them or dealing with seeing them as distressing visual clutter as I worked on other areas. It helps to have a designated space to do this, so if you live with roommates or family make sure to tell them about the project and designate an area where you will be placing stuff until the project is done; if you can't get that, then have one dedicated box/bin/area in your room that is the 'sort when i get to it' station, and add books/clothes/etc to it as needed.

Give yourself a firm deadline: I know that brains are weird and deadlines are sometimes fake and sometimes motivational, but this deadline is a combination of "promise to your housemates that this pile of stuff won't exist in the entryway forever" and "schedule so that I know that I'm not going to be doing this project for the next seven years." 40 days was the suggested schedule because it was originally a lent thing, but also because that's a reasonable number of chunks to clean up. If your room would work better as 10 chunks, it could be 10 days. I think that more days is probably better because it lets you make smaller areas to focus on, but you know your space best.

Also, be kind to yourself. There have been a number of times that I have gone through all the effort of cleaning and reorganizing a space only to sit down at the end and cry because it's too different and I don't like it. That's not me being unreasonable, that's me being stressed after a stressful process and I am not allowed to beat myself up about it. I'm not allowed to yell at myself for how bad I let my space get, I'm not allowed to call myself names or denigrate myself 'because an adult should be able to keep a tidy space.' Cleaning is stressful and facing your flaws is stressful so the very least that you can do is not add to that stress by topping it off with self-criticism. Other people may be critical of you in this process, and if they are my advice is to let them know that feeling bad about your room isn't going to help it get any cleaner, and that if they want you to keep cleaning they shouldn't make cleaning more of a painful process than it already is by making you feel bad about it.

Good luck! I hope this helps!

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 2

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Hosting the Guardians of the Galaxy proves to be... interesting. (Read: Difficult) Maybe it'd be easier if Rocket wasn't such an ass...

Part 1 here | Part 3 here

Author’s Note: Dropped hints of Reader's tragic backstory. Feel free to make guesses if you want lol (Also let me know if you like when I write Reader as a mystery. I've done it before and people seemed to like it, but if you feel stories like this are better as an OC, let me know that too) Also I can tell you guys right now this will end up being at least 6 chapters already.

Word Count: 6,217

You awoke to the feeling of your lover's arms wrapped around your waist, and you smile, sleepily snuggling backwards into the touch.

You are about to whisper their name, tell them good morning, but then you remember... it can't possibly be them.

Your eyes snap open.

Who the fuck is in your bed!?

With a startled scream you twist around and kick, realizing only once your assailant is on the floor that it was Mantis, who had also let out a startled cry at being flung off the bed.

"Mantis? What the hell are you doing?!" you cry, hand on your chest as you sit on your knees on the bed looking down at her on the floor.

Mantis looks at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry! The storm kept making the loud noises and I was scared and-"

Your door flings open. Peter and Drax tumble in asking what's wrong, where's the danger?

Waving them off you say irritably, "Nothing. It's nothing. Just wasn't expecting to wake up to Mantis in my bed."

Peter lightly chuckles, almost nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess we should have told you she can be a cuddler, huh?"

You throw a look at him and Drax. "You think?" You then shield your eyes. "Dude! Put some pants on or something!"

And that's how you also unfortunately learned that Drax sleeps in the nude.

***

Breakfast went more or less smoothly. You had to find a straw for Groot so he could drink out of a cup, and someone spilled their drink all over the floor, and Rocket made one or two more complaints about the indignity of needing to sleep in a crib, but all-in-all it went fairly smoothly.

Well, if you didn't count Rocket snapping at Kraglin's arm for accidentally resting his elbow on his tail. That was also how the drink got spilled, by the way. You just gave them an unamused glance at threw a towel at them from the counter on your way to grab an apple. They got the message.

Ok, so it wasn't totally smooth, but it definitely could have been worse. Maybe.

When you were finished your breakfast you got up to do the dishes you had meant to wash the previous night, this time being sure not to burn your hands off. Rocket hopped on the counter to drop his bowl in while you were washing, promptly scampering off without so much as a please or thank you, which slightly annoyed you, and you turned to side eye him as he hopped off the counter, but you let it slide for then.

It apparently also annoyed Peter too as you heard him say in a hushed irritated whisper, "Rocket!" only to be responded with Rocket whispering back "What? She was already doing them!"

You pretended you couldn't hear them.

After you finished the dishes and wiped up the counter you went upstairs, having had an idea that might prevent another incident like this morning from happening.

You made your way into your room and closed the door behind you before heading to your desk to retrieve the key to the attic from the top drawer.

This would prove pointless, however, as you'd soon find that not only had Fury's team not bothered to lock it back up when they finished, they hadn't even properly latched it. You sigh in annoyance, but push on to the attic anyway.

You come to the landing and take in the space you hadn't visited in some time. Boxes stacked neatly around the rafted walls leaving plenty space to walk. Light peaked through the small windows at either end of the rectangular space.

You located the box you came for on the furthermost corner of the attic, the stretch of floor that rested above the ceiling of the room Drax now stayed in. You open the box, and pull out a stuffed bear, looking at it with a mix of longing and sadness, remembering who owned it past. Shaking the memories away, you thought to open another box next to it, pulling from it a small wooden toy car. It wasn't fancy, little more than a carved block of red-painted wood with some windows bored-in and some black stained wooden wheels, but you still thought it'd be a nice gesture- you mean, you thought it'd keep the kid busy... You doubted they had brought many toys with them to keep him occupied.

And after all, how much could these items really serve you by staying up in the attic til the end of time?

A teddy bear for Mantis, and a toy car for the little wooden child to play with.

After a moment of being stuck in the memories the objects brought, you close the boxes back up and leave the attic with the toys, locking the door after you made it back into the bedroom. You placed the bear on Mantis's pillow, and went to return the key to the drawer.

Before heading downstairs you decided you would leave the toy in the room Groot was staying in, rather than give it to the child directly. You weren't good with sentiment, and he'd find it soon enough anyway. Less awkward this way.

The door was open so you stepped just inside. A wood framed double bed rested in the left corner, the crib that Rocket seemed so unhappy with rested in the right. The twisting in your stomach came back, and you set the toy to the right of the doorframe on the floor, eager to leave the room. Too many memories, none of which you wanted.

You wanted to clear your head, so you decided you'd have a tend to your garden, make sure the storm hadn't torn anything asunder, and you were sure that it could use a good weeding anyway. You could also stand a little time alone, too. You weren't used to having people around the house anymore, let alone eight of them having been sprung on you overnight. Questionable judgement on your part, volunteering for this was, you were sure. Then you remembered this was all part of Fury's plan anyway, so you supposed the choice wasn't even really yours, so maybe you weren't entirely to blame.

You had just sat down on the hall bench to lace your boots when you noticed Mantis and Gamora coming out of the sitting room, Mantis looking uncomfortable and Gamora irritated as they made their way past you and to the end of the hall.

Gamora knocked on the bathroom door roughly and in a loud but firm voice said, "Rocket! Hurry up, Mantis has to go and she says you've been in there forever."

"I have not!" came Rocket's reply, "And why doesn't she use the one upstairs?"

"Drax is taking a shower." Gamora answered irritably.

"So?" came Rocket's incredulous reply.

"Rocket." Gamora said warningly.

"If she can't pee just 'cause someone's showering then she can hold it," came the response from behind the door.

Mantis made a small unhappy noise and shifted uncomfortably, prompting Gamora to smack the door once more. "Rocket!" she said more forcefully, her tone having switched fully from irritated to angry.

You narrowed your eyes as you tied. Clearly the raccoon was going to be a problem.

"Ok! Ok! Jeez!" Rocket said in frustration, opening the door and walking out, Mantis quickly entering once he had cleared the doorway.

Gamora just huffed at him in annoyance and began to walk back towards the sitting room.

Having just finished tying your boots you pulled your jeans over them and straightened up, eyes still narrowed at Rocket, which he noticed.

"What?"

"Don't do that again." you say flatly, reaching over to grab your earbuds from the hall table. "You keep being an asshole and we're gonna have a problem."

Rocket looked at you defiantly, arms crossed, clearly irritated that you were telling him what to do. "What you gonna do about it?"

Still in the hallway, Gamora turned to glare at him.

Yondu exited the kitchen from the door further up the hall, saw Gamora glaring and turned to see you and Rocket looking like you were about to have a standoff. He had half-heard the conversation from the kitchen, but stood there with an eyebrow raised, curious to see how'd this would turn out.

You looked at Rocket calmly as you put one earbud in. "Fuck around and find out." was your only answer as you inserted your other earbud and turned into the kitchen via the other door at the end opposite of Yondu, making your way towards the back door.

Yondu chuckled and Gamora rolled her eyes as Rocket flipped you the bird behind your back and angrily stormed past them to the sitting room.

***

Yondu found Peter in the sitting room looking among the many bookshelves along the back and sides of the back half of the room.

"Ya reckon you can still read Terran, boy?"

Peter looked at him, ignoring that 'Terran' wasn't a language, and said in a slightly offended tone, "Of course!" before quietly adding, "The translator helps too..." under his breath as he turned back to examining the books.

Kraglin laughed from his place on the sofa. "Didn't know Quill could read at all, Cap'n."

Peter shot him a glare even though he knew Kraglin wouldn't be able to see it and Rocket, who was also sitting on the couch to keep an eye on Groot, said, "Why you still call him captain? Did you forget about a little thing called a mutiny? Pretty sure you were there..."

Gamora and Peter both snapped at him, Gamora hissing "Rocket!" and Peter scolding, "Not cool, dude!"

Yondu eyed him. "Ya know I can still run my arrow through you, right, Rat?" He leaned against a bookshelf. "Yer lucky it'd be mighty rude to get yer blood all over the floor of our host."

Rocket mock held his hands up, "Alright, alright, soRRy. Didn't know the wound was still fresh. Lighten up."

This only earned him a few eye-rolls before Peter returned his gaze to the bookcases. "There's so many." he said. He picked up a white book that said "Atlas of Human Anatomy" and flipped though the pages. "Whoa." he said flipping the book around to show Yondu the pictures.

"Yeah, that's what yer insides look like, boy."

Gamora approached and Peter handed her the book while he took another one from a shelf higher up. Gamora looked that the pictures and said, "Hm. You only have one liver. Explains why you're such a lightweight."

This earned chuckles from the others and Peter said, "I'm gonna ignore that. Look at this one." He was holding a book of fairytales. "I should tell you some of these stories sometime," he said, looking at the list of titles. "I remember my mom telling me at least half of these."

Yondu decided he might as well glance over the books as well, seeing as he didn't exactly have much better to do. He peered over the titles; Herbal Medicine- might be good to know... Grim Tales of Horror- Heh, maybe he could scare Quill with it... Wound Treatment- definitely good to know... Archery Fundamentals- he might actually look at that one later, just to see how the Terrans do it... What to Expect When You're Expecting- weird title, wonder what that's about?

Before he could pick up the book to examine it Kraglin spoke up. "Hey Pete, is it normal for Terran houses to be this... empty?"

"What do you mean?" asked Mantis, having just walked in to rejoin the group. "It doesn't appear to be empty?" She glanced around at the furniture in confusion.

"No, I don't mean that. I mean- Like there's no photos? Don't most people keep photos of their families and stuff out? Little knick-knacks? Personal effects?"

Peter looked around. "You're right. Well- at least that's how I remember it. My grandparents did, so did all my relatives." It finally hit him how there seemed to be none of that in your house. "I guess it is weird."

Yondu had noticed too the first night they arrived. Not a single photo adorned the walls or shelves. Not in the sitting room, not in the hall or kitchen either. A few plants sat here and there, but other than that, there was almost no personality. It did feel empty, for lack of better word.

Rocket spoke up, suggesting that maybe you just "didn't feed into all that sentimental crap."

The others shrugged. Maybe he was right.

However, Yondu felt there might be something to the emptiness. He felt something was a little off, although he kept it to himself. It was likely nothing a little watchful eye wouldn't suss out. He had already been watching you, trying to get a read on his new host. It was strange to him that you would live in a place this big by yourself, and it didn't help matters that you hadn't seemed willing to answer that question when he asked. Sure, it was none of his business really, but still odd.

***

Mantis came outside just as you were about finished weeding. She stopped to admire the growing cabbages and asked a few questions about the various other vegetables and you removed an ear bud to give her answers, albeit short ones. Soon enough she got distracted by a small white butterfly and wondered off to chase it. "Don't go into the forest!" you call after her. "Don't want you getting lost!"

She hollered back an "Ok!" and you turned back to finish pulling the last of the weeds.

Once you were finished you dusted yourself off and decided to head inside for some water. You had only gotten a few feet inside when you could hear the sound of Mantis screaming, and it was getting closer. You turned around just in time for her to run through the door and into you.

Alarmed, you check her over. You instinctually grab onto her hands, then her shoulders, and finally cupping her face as you looked up and down for any injury as you say, "What?! What's wrong?!"

Mantis sniffed. "I saw this cloud of tiny black things, I thought it looked interesting, so I reached to touch it, and they started biting."

You let out a breath. Midges. She had only reached into a cloud of midges. "Gah-! Don't scare me like that! I thought you'd been hurt!" you scold. Seeing her hurt expression you softened. "Let me see."

She showed you her hand and her upper arm. The rest of her arm had fortunately been spared by her long arm bands. "It itches."

"Yeah, just what I thought. Midge bites." Sure enough, little faint pink welts were already forming that you missed earlier in your shock. Normally the bites didn't appear so fast, but you assumed it must just be because whatever type of alien she was made her more sensitive to them. "You'll be fine. Come here." You led her to a drawer and pulled out a tube of gel that would help with the itching. You applied the gel for her. "Better?" you asked.

She nodded and you told her that if she needed the gel again she could find it in the same drawer, also telling her not to scratch the bites lest she make them worse before sending her off.

Once she left you sighed and finally got your water. As you drank you contemplated finding something else to keep you busy.

***

Yondu had been about to head upstairs when he heard a muffled sound of Mantis yelling before it was abruptly cut off with an "Oof!"

He walked to the doorway to see what was going on, telling himself he wasn't being nosy, he just... had nothing better to do what with being stuck here and all.

He watched as you checked Mantis over, as you scolded her for scaring you, and as you treated her bites, noticing that Mantis's "feelers," as he called them, glowed almost the whole time, though you didn't seem to notice yourself, being preoccupied.

He huffed a silent laugh through his nose. For you not being exactly happy with this arrangement, your actions now didn't exactly match your previous "I don't care, just don't annoy me." attitude. But maybe he was just reading it wrong. Maybe you were only worried because your boss wouldn't be happy if any of them got hurt while in your care.

When you sent Mantis off and he saw she was approaching the doorway he quickly backed out so as to not be seen spying.

"Hey, Bug." he said quietly once she was in the hall, making her jump.

Seeing it was only him, she relaxed and gave a friendly smile. "Yes?"

"Come here," he nodded toward the stairs. "Walk with me."

She obeyed and together they ascended the stairs.

"So, yer feelers there, they glow when yer doin' that 'reading peoples feelins' thing, right?"

Mantis nodded, smiling wide.

"Couldn't help but notice you two in the kitchen," he admitted, adding that he noticed she was doing her empath thing back there when you were fixing her up, and asked what kind of reading she got off you. Just out of curiosity, of course...

Mantis pondered and said, "It felt... maternal? Almost? It was quite nice to feel. It was almost like being hugged."

"Huh..." is all he managed to respond. Maybe Mantis was mistaking your real emotion for something else? It didn't quite fit with 'grumpy reclusive agent who got tricked into taking in a group of dysfunctional people.'

He then asked her if you knew she could 'do that', meaning read someone empathically. He wondered if it would be possible for Terrans to fake an emotion well enough to fool an empath. He highly doubted it, but who was really to say?

Mantis shook her head. She said she hadn't thought to bring it up, and asked him if she should tell you right now, wondering if she had been rude by not saying something.

He responded by telling her not to tell you yet.

"Why? Mantis asked.

"Oh, because it'll be real funny later, trust me." he said. It wasn't the real reason, but he knew that she was more likely to keep a secret if he told her that. She liked to make people laugh.

"Oh! Like a practical joke!" she giggled.

"Uh, sure. Like that." Yondu smiled. "You can run along now, Bug."

Mantis trotted down the stairs while Yondu pondered over the odd puzzle pieces of his host.

***

You spent most of the day feeling antsy. You had always made it a point to keep yourself busy with your work, either for Fury or with work on your home, and knowing that you were essentially retired for the foreseeable future made you anxious.

It was when Peter came outside for some fresh air that he found you pacing along the back of the house, seemingly making an effort not to go past the windows.

"You're gonna wear a hole in the ground." he joked.

You only looked at him and sighed, but continued pacing.

Sensing you were agitated about something he tried to break the ice. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about." you reply.

"Right. So you're just pacing for no reason. I'm sure it has nothing to do with any recent changes or anything." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door with a knowing grin.

"Look- Just... I'm just not used to this," you admitted. "I'm not used to people being here, I'm not used to not working on a case..." you continued to pace.

"Well," Peter pondered, "What would you be doing if we weren't here? What would you do on a normal day off."

"I'd be working on the electrical, but Fury just had to take that away from me." you say with a toss of your hand towards the house.

"Oh." Peter said. He couldn't help you there. "Well, what would you normally do to relax?"

You stopped. "What?" You shook your head, "I don't need to relax, I just need to find something to do." You began pacing again.

Peter gave you a strange look. He remembered what he heard Fury say the previous night about you not having taken a vacation in five years. "You really don't know how to relax, do you?"

You then stop pacing in front of him, as if trying to prove him wrong. "I could if I wanted." you say defiantly.

"Sure ya can." He grinned back at you.

He was trying to bait you. You rolled your eyes and waved him off. "What do you know." You start to pace again but then stop to look at him again. "You, um, ever had Earth food before?"

Peter smiles. "Well I lived here until I was eight, so yeah. I've had it before."

You widen your eyes slightly in surprise. "So you're from Earth?- I didn't realize. I just thought you were all from space."

"Nope."

"And the other guy- Kraglin?"

"Nah, He looks Terran, but he's from Xandar. It's just me."

"Oh," you say, the wonder of how he had come about living in space being brushed aside by your need to be busy, "Well have any of the others tried Earth food before? 'Cause I could maybe cook something tonight... you know, to pass the time." You were already mentally preparing the ingredients in your head. You already knew you had potatoes in the cellar, and some meat and a bag of mixed frozen veggies in the freezer. You were almost certain you didn't have any lamb, but you could substitute ground beef and make shepherd's pie like your grandmother used to make.

"I could ask, but I'm sure they'd be willing. They're not exactly the type of bunch to turn down free food." he laughed.

"Nah, don't bother. If they eat it, they eat it. If they don't, they don't. I don't care," you say, not meeting his eyes as you shoo him from the door so you could enter the house. "Not like it's gonna be a regular thing, ya know. Just doing it 'cause I'm bored."

"Right. Of course." Peter said, smiling as he followed you inside. If living with Yondu and later Rocket had taught him anything, it was how to tell if someone was putting up a shell, and you definitely were. He then made it his mission to chip it away. Who knew how long they'd be stuck there? Might as well attempt to make friends with you in the meantime.

You pulled out a skillet and let it heat up with some oil before grabbing some ground beef from the freezer.

"Need any help?" Peter asked.

"Nope. Go play." you say absentmindedly, setting the package on the counter.

Peter chuckled. "Go play?"

You shook your head. "Eh- You know what I meant. Shoo. I'll call you when it's finished."

"Maybe another time then." he said, slightly disappointed you were kicking him out of the kitchen as he wanted to try and get to know you a little, but he didn't show it.

"Yeah, maybe." you reply, already heading to the cellar with a bowl to grab some potatoes.

***

Peter mentioned that you were cooking to the others when he joined them in the sitting room, mostly to tell them that even if they (Rocket) didn't end up liking this Terran food, to still try and be nice. He said that while you acted like you didn't care if they ate it or not, he didn't want anyone (Rocket) being rude because he could tell you were having a rough time adjusting to everything.

Rocket rolled his eyes but everyone seemed to more or less agree with Peter to be nice and went back to what they were doing.

It didn't take long for the smell to start wafting from the kitchen, prompting Kraglin to say that whatever you were making, it at least smelled good.

Groot nodded then looked at Rocket. "I am Groot."

"I don't want to play tag." said Rocket.

Groot made puppy dog eyes at Rocket. "I am Groot."

"It won't hurt ya to play with the kid for a little bit, boy." said Yondu, polishing his arrow at the the table on the other end of the room by the bookcases.

"You do it then!" Rocket complained.

"I'm too old to be doing that kid stuff, boy. 'Sides, yer more Twig's size." he chuckled, never looking up from his task.

"I am Groot." Groot said sadly, really laying it on thick. Peter and Gamora hid smiles behind their hands as they pretended to be focused on the movie playing on the TV screen, Kraglin finally having figured out how the Netflix worked.

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Alright! Fine! I'll play the stupid game." he relented, muttering under his breath that he shouldn't have ever taught him that game.

Groot shot up in glee and tagged him on the knee before taking off towards Yondu, making a hard left about a meter from the table and causing Rocket to slide on the wooden floor into the table leg. Yondu laughed so hard he nearly dropped his arrow and Rocket glared at him before declaring that Groot was "Really in for it now!" and making chase, following the tiny tree child out into the hall and up the stairs.

***

You listened to the sound of giggles and little feet running upstairs, then down the stairs, getting louder and softer depending where the little feet happened to run and you smiled. You missed that sound... You shook yourself out of the memory before it could play in your mind, refusing to let yourself get sentimental over a sound.

You had just put the mix of meat and veggies into a glass pan and turned away from the stove to start mashing your drained potatoes when a flash of brown and orange zoomed past your feet and nearly made you lose your balance.

"Hey Hey! No running in the kitchen! Take it outside!" you cry out, grateful you hadn't been carrying anything. "Shouldn't need to tell you that, I'm not your mother." You shoot them a warning look as you continued over to the counter.

Then you hear Rocket say, "Good thing! You'd probably be terrible at it!"

You swallow and clenched your jaw, looking down at the bowl of potatoes. "Get out of the kitchen," you say firmly, not looking towards him.

Rocket raised an eyebrow, having expected more of a fight than just being told calmly to leave, but he did so anyway when Groot tugged on his the leg of his outfit.

***

Peter and Gamora's head snapped toward the kitchen when they heard you scolding the boys, and their eyes narrowed a bit when they heard Rocket's response, but like him they of course hadn't realized the weight of his words. They only knew that there was no reason for him to say that other than him just wanting to be a dick.

When Rocket walked back into the sitting room Kraglin was the one who scolded him this time. "Do you really need to be such an ass to everyone you meet?"

This was followed by Gamora scolding him and saying that you didn't have to let them stay here, and that maybe he should try not to be so mean to the person willing to let them stay in their home.

Rocket looked to Drax, and then Yondu, to back him up, but he received nothing, so he settled for grumbling and climbing on top of the back of the couch to sulk.

***

An hour later Peter walked back into the kitchen to get some water and saw you putting plates out.

"Food's done, if you want to get the others." you say gruffly, putting down the last of the plates.

Your table wasn't quite big enough to fit everyone, being only a six seater, but you figured the kid and the asshole raccoon could eat up on the counter until a better solution could be found.

The other's filed in as you put the pan of food on a towel in the middle of the table. You look up. "Food's there." You then point to the spatula, "Here's something to serve it. Help yourselves." you say, adding that Groot and Rocket could eat on the counter since the table wasn't big enough before starting to walk toward the other door as the others sat down.

"You're not eating with us?" asked Mantis, seeming a little disappointed.

You kept walking. "Not hungry."

Yondu narrowed his eyes and spoke. "Should we assume it's poisoned then?"

This make you turn back. "Why the hell would I poison it?" you ask angrily.

Yondu stayed cool, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up as he said, "Well you went to the trouble to cook, but you're not eating it. Seems mighty suspicious to me."

Drax and Kraglin exchanged confused glances. Neither of them understood why Yondu was accusing you of trying to kill them.

Yondu didn't really think you had poisoned the food, he was doing one of the things he did best. Playing a con. He was as sure as he was blue that your lack of appetite was a direct cause of Rocket being an absolute shit, and he'd be damned if someone was going to offer their home and cook for his group and then not join to eat it because the rat hurt their feelings. He may have been a space pirate, but he still knew a thing or two about good form, and that wasn't it.

"First off, it wasn't trouble. Only did it because I got bored. I couldn't care less if you eat it or not," you said with a roll of your eyes, trying to keep your tone even despite the insult.

"I think you'd care if I said I'm not gonna let anyone else eat it either until you sit down and prove to me it's not poisoned by eating with us."

Your nostrils flare. "You can't be serious."

"Oh I am. What's it gonna be? Ya really gonna let me make Twig and Bug here go hungry?" He grinned a wide smug grin and received a confused look from Peter who was wondering why he was acting like this. Gamora shot Peter a look as if to ask the same question, but he just shrugged and shook his head to let her know he was just as confused as she was. Mantis and Groot just looked at Yondu like he was nuts.

You seethed but approached the cabinet to pull down a plate for yourself. "You're a real peice of work. Come into my house and accuse me of poisoning you lot-"

"Yeah, yeah. Just eat it." Yondu snarked.

You refused to eat until everyone else was served, but did finally relent to take the first bite to satisfy the blue man's irritating request.

Seemingly satisfied, Yondu gave the clear for everyone else to eat, and despite the awkward and rocky start, the rest of supper actually went more smoothly than breakfast had. You didn't speak much, but everyone else seemed to like the meal well enough.

When everyone had finished Peter insisted that he and Yondu stay behind to do the the dishes for you, saying it'd be rude to make you both cook and clean up. You didn't argue, wanting to put distance between you and them anyway. You stated that you were going to go take a shower, convinced that the new boiler Fury imposed upon you could handle both water uses at once.

Once Peter was sure you were gone he turned to Yondu. "What the hell was that? What happened to agreeing to be nice?"

"I was nice." Yondu said flippantly.

Gamora scolded him, saying that accusing you of poisoning them wasn't "nice."

He only shrugged, handing a plate to Peter and stating that it got you to eat, so he didn't care.

This, of course, earned looks of bewilderment from the rest of the team. He continued, "It would've been bad form to let our host cook and then not eat any of it, boy. Thought I'd have taught ya better than that."

Peter frowned. "No, you taught me to fight and steal things."

Yondu gave him a look but didn't get a chance to reply before Rocket hopped down from the counter saying, "Who cares if she didn't want supper? She's an adult."

Yondu then turned his full attention to Rocket, saying that he knew it was his fault you hadn't wanted to eat in the first place.

"Me?! What did I do?" Rocket scoffed, majorly offended by the accusation.

Drax answered, "You've been rude since we got here. You complain about everything, and you insulted our host just for telling you not to run through the kitchen."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Really?" He looked defiantly up at Drax, "You honestly think me saying she'd make a terrible mother hurt her widdle feelings? Look around! She doesn't even have kids!"

Tired of hearing him, Yondu said, "If yer not gonna be helpful, Rat, go find somewhere else to be."

"Fine. Bye, losers." was Rocket's reply as he collected Groot and departed for their room.

***

After your shower you stayed in your room for the rest of the evening, scrolling through tumblr on your phone to pass the time.

Eventually Mantis comes up to get ready for bed, and she spots the teddy bear you left on her pillow. "What's this?" she asks, picking it up.

"Teddy Bear. You sleep with it. Figured you could, you know, cuddle that instead when you get scared at night."

Mantis's eyes grow wide, and her waterline wet. Her bottom lip quivers as she says, "You- You gave me a gift?"

Really hoping she wasn't about to cry you say, "If you want to call it that, I guess..."

Mantis practically attacks you with a hug and an excited squeal. "Thank you! Thank you! I love it!"

You all but fall backward on the bed from her hug attack. "Uh- Glad you like it." you manage, patting her on the back before gently persuading her to let go.

She straightened up and hugged the bear tightly to her chest with a big smile before setting it back on her pillow so she could get ready for bed. Before she left, however, she came back to you and grabbed your hands, saying again how much she loved the bear, and you honestly started to wonder if she had never been given a gift in her life.

You noticed the little antennae on her head were now glowing, and you then wondered if that was happening because she was happy as you felt an unexpected, though not unwelcome, feeling of peace and happiness wash over you.

You smile, finding her whole display endearing as she giggled and released your hands before finally leaving the room.

By the time she came back about 15 minutes later, the feeling had already worn off, replaced by your previous melancholy. You heard Mantis returning and you pretended to be asleep just in case she would have tried to hug attack you again.

Once her breath deepened and you thought she was asleep you sat up. Maybe a walk would make you feel better.

You quietly pull on some jeans and made your way out of the bedroom into the dark landing, taking a moment to notice a thin line of light under the door of the room Yondu and Kraglin were sharing.

You didn't turn on the light before descending the stairs. You knew this house like the back of your hand, even in the dark, and you quietly made your way down so as to not disturb any sleepers.

You make your way into the hall to grab your boots and ear buds before cutting through the kitchen and opening the back door. Putting in your ear buds and finding some music reflective of your mood, you set out into the cool night air.

***

Yondu and Kraglin stayed up a bit later in their room, just talking about nothing of much importance. How Rocket was being a dick, how it was mostly his fault they had to go into hiding, and wondering how long it might be until they could all come out of hiding.

Yondu's bed was pushed against the window, his and Kraglin's beds much in a similar arrangement to yours and Mantis's.

Movement outside caught his eye.

"What is it?" Kraglin asked, noticing how Yondu's attention had turned to the window and he had gone quiet.

Yondu turned to him, a look of puzzlement painting his face, and he told him it looked like you were walking out into the forest.

Kraglin raised an eyebrow. "What would she be doing that for?"

Yondu shook his head to indicate his lack of explanation.

"Should we investigate?"

Yondu thought for a moment before deciding they wouldn't follow you. Not yet.

But he'd be keeping an eye on you.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Where We Start Again 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: how do you fake date someone you have real feelings for?

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Playlist by @tiny-friggin-human

“This is my room.” Peter weakly gestured to his bedroom as you walked through his door. His eyes were immediately drawn to everything he needed to hide as you began to look around. He kicked a pair of boxers into the closet and threw a hoodie over the vials of web fluid on his desk. When he looked up at you, a smile dawned on his lips. You stood out in your mini skirt among his nerdy ambiance, but you didn’t look out of place. You noticed him staring and tucked your hair behind your ear nervously.

“What?” You asked, feeling a little self conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing. I just like looking at you.” His lips moved faster than his brain and he was defenseless to stop the words from coming out. Luckily, you found it sweet and gave him a small smile.

“Star Wars bedsheets?” You nodded towards his unmade bed where tiny green Yoda heads dotted his sheets.

“Those aren’t mine.” He scoffed playfully, watching as you took a seat on his bed. His throat tightened at the thought of your bare legs on his sheets. The skirt he’d fawned over so many times was on his bed right now, and he was beginning to panic.

“Uh huh.” You humored him and ran a hand over his pillow. “They’re very soft. You should thank whoever they belong to for taking care of them.”

“I have your laundry- oh! A female.” May was startled by your presence when she came to Peters open door. Peters eyes widened when he noticed she was holding a few pairs of his boxers in her hands and prayed you didn’t notice too. Unfortunate for Peter, you had manners and got up off his bed to shake Mays hand. You shoot Peter a look when your eyes fell on the pile.

“Hi Mrs. Parker. I’m Y/n.” You said politely as you shook her hand. May looked between you and Peter with a surprised expression.

“Y/n L/n?” She asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, that me.” You told her. Peter looked up at the ceiling, silently cursing God for what was happening in front of him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Peters been telling me about you since freshman year. You’re the one with the skirt, right? Oh, you’re wearing it now.” She laughed spritely and handed Peter his boxers. “You were right, Peter. It is a nice skirt. And please, call me May.”

Peter knew a nail in the coffin when he saw one. There was no coming back from what May just said. You were gonna think he was a creep and your fake relationship would end before it began.

At least you sat on his bed, though.

“Thank you, May. It’s from H&M and I hear there’s a sale right now. It kinda matches your nails. They’re so pretty.” You told her and she looked down at her nail color. Peter did a double take between you and May. For some reason, you weren’t running out of his apartment in fear.

You were giving his Aunt shopping tips and nail compliments.

“Oh, wow. It does. And thank you. I just got them done but of course this one didn’t notice.” She gave Peter a pointed look before returning her attention to you. “I think I’ll go check it out. I’ll leave you kids to it.” She winked at Peter before closing the door.

Peter braced himself for an abrupt end to your newfound relationship as you turned around. Instead, you had your arms folded and a surprised smile on your face.

“Have you been talking to your aunt about me?” You put yourself hand over your heart like you couldn’t believe it. Peter opened his mouth to apologize, but decided against it when you didn’t show any signs of disdain.

“However did you know?” He replied sarcastically and got a laugh out of you. So you didn’t want apologies, he thought. You wanted humor. “I hope you know, you just witnessed the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

“Well if I know anything about women, she’s gonna be at H&M for a while. You don’t have to worry about her coming in here to embarrass you and drop off your Scooby Doo boxers.” You picked up a pair from the pile he was holding and dangled it in front of his face. He snatched them away from you and quickly stuffed them in his drawer.

“Give me those. They also aren’t mine.” He lied and you held up your hands in defense.

“I believe you.” You insisted and walked over to his LEGO Ferris Wheel. He joined you, standing next to you in silence for a moment as you admired it.

“Ruh roh.” You muttered and his head snapped to you.

“Hey.” He whined. You leaned into him as you laughed, making his breath hitched in his chest when you touched him

“I’m sorry. How does this thing work?” You returned your attention to the Ferris wheel. Peter took a moment to admire the wonder in your eyes as they trailed over the bricks. He pushed a button on the side and it began to move.

“Effervescent.” You said flatly at the anticlimactic way it worked. Peter watched you fondly as your eyes followed the LEGO man and woman in one of the carts.

“What made you want to come over?” He asked suddenly. “Do you have to do community service or something?”

“No.” You said like it was a crazy thought. “I wanted to hang out with you.”

Peter was taken aback by this answer and thought for sure you were lying. He looked at you skeptically as you watched the Ferris wheel.

“Why?” He asked. “And how has nothing you’ve seen so far made you want to stop hanging out with me? You know, the boxers, the bedsheets, the aunt.”

You leaned against his book self and looked down at your boots as you shrugged.

“The boys in our school show up hung over, smelling like mango juul pods and hotdog water. They sleep through class and pelt spit balls at each other at lunch. And I’m pretty sure half the football team hasn’t made the full transition from monkey to human yet.” You said as you kept your eyes down.

“These are all things I already know.” Peter said when you didn’t answer his question. You looked up at him and shrugged slightly.

“You show up in button downs and cute sweaters, smelling like apple shampoo. The one that can get in your eyes and won’t sting. You pay attention in class and build LEGO desk lamps for the science fair. And you give people your gogurt.” You said timidly. The corners of Peters mouth turned down as he fought a smile, as well as the urge to scream into a pillow.

“Well she packed me an extra one.” He reminded you and you rolled your eyes. You walked away from his bookshelf and over to where he had set the LEGO lamp down.

“Can I help you glue the legos down?” You changed the topic. “It’ll go faster with two people.”

“Sure.” He nodded and joined you at his desk. He took a vial of web fluid from under the hoodie and handed it to you. “Here.”

“What kind of glue is this?” You asked as you examined the vial.

“Oh, uh, I made it myself.” Peter stammered as he pulled up a chair for you. You gave him a grateful smile and took a seat.

“You made your own glue?” You asked him once he sat down next to you at the desk.

“Yes?”

“You’re incredible, Peter.” You shook your head and started glueing pieces down. “Out here making your own glue. Elmer’s is quaking.”

Peter took a moment to collect himself before he started glueing the pieces together. Everytime he thought he did something lame, you liked it. And not only that, you praised him for it. All the things that made him unpopular were the things you seemed to enjoy. He was curious about your intentions and could only hope they were good.

“The fair is this Friday, right?” You peered at him through your lashes as you focused on sticking a piece to the base.

“Yeah, right after school.” He replied, freezing momentarily when your pinky touched his.

“I’ll be there.” You said definitively. He stopped what he was doing and looked at you to see if you were joking, but you looked completely serious.

“You don’t have to. It’ll be really boring.” He said softly but you dismissed him.

“Then I’ll hang out by you the whole time.” YIU said simply. “What kind of fake girlfriend would I be if I wasn’t there to watch my boyfriend win the science fair?”

The tips of Peters ears turned pink when you called him your boyfriend. As much as he’d love to have you cheering him on at the science fair, he didn’t want to make you do something you didn’t want to do. He was about to insist that you didn’t have to go when he stopped himself. Something about all the impossible things that had happened today made him want to go against his normal behavior.

“It’s every boys dream to have his fake girlfriend watching him awkwardly tell judges about his science fair project.” He said instead of telling you you didn’t have to come. You seemed like you wanted to, and he’d love to have you there. Why not let it happen?

“I know, right? How’d you get so lucky?” You tossed your hair off your shoulder and winked at him. Peter has gone from never speaking to you to you winking at him three times in one day. You were right. How did he get so lucky?

“Are you sure about committing to this whole fake dating thing? If you’re at the science fair with me, more people are gonna know. It won’t just be between you and me and Flash anymore.” Peter warned you. You stopped glueing legos and looked at him.

“I am sure. I want to do this. It’s just until the dance right? I can dedicate two weeks of my life to mess with Flash.” You insisted as you put your hand on top of his. He tensed up so you quickly drew it away and cleared your throat. “We should probably come up with nicknames for each other to really sell it. What do you want to be called?”

Still recovering from the hand holding incident, his mind was blank.

“You pick.” He said blankly.

“Thank God. I thought you were gonna say “my lord” or some shit.” You laughed and went back to glueing. “How about baby? Nice and simple.”

“Sounds good.” He smiled shyly. He wasn’t even on your radar this morning and now you were calling him baby.

“What do you want to call me?” You asked. The hope in your eyes made Peter determined not to disappoint you.

“Daisy.” He said confidently. You raised your eyebrows at his quick response.

“You had that prepared.” You remarked and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I see you drawing daisies on your notes all the time.” He admitted. “And then you color the center with yellow highlighter. It’s cute.”

“Good eye, baby.” You emphasized the pet name for effect.

“I just have a good view, daisy.” He did the same. You pulled your tongue between your teeth and giggled. The sight of it made Peters knees weaken as he glued on the final piece.

“You should give me one of your shirts or something so I can wear it to school.” You said as you got out of your chair. “Do you have anything that says your last name on the back?”

Peter got up from the desk and dug around in his closet for his decathlon hoodie. He made sure not to touch the area where his suit was hidden.

“Would this work?” He asked as he held it out to you. You traced your fingers over the bold white block letters and smiled.

“That’s perfect. And here.” You slipped your scrunchie off your wrist and gave it to him. “Wear this on your wrist. I wear it a lot so people will know it’s mine.”

Peter put it on his wrist and thought of all the times he’d seen you wearing it. He loved it when you wore your hair up. And down. He loved it all.

But so did the rest of his school.

Guilt bubbled in the pit of his tummy at the thought of what the fake relationship could do to your reputation.

“You really don’t have to do this, Y/n.” He said softly. “You’re committing social suicide.”

“That’s not a thing.” You stated as you tied his hoodie around your waist. “And I told you, I’m happy to do this. Flash needed to be put in his place. I always hear him picking on you over nothing.”

“Yeah. He’s a real piece of work.” Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out a breath.

“You pronounce “dick head” funny.” You smirked. “Why do you let him get away with what he says to you? How do you resist the urge to punch him in the face?”

“He’s not worth.” Peter shrugged. “I want to get out of here and go to a good college. I’m kinda depending on scholarships and I hear schools prefer kids who don’t get into physical fights with other students.”

“Well you’re very patient.” You complimented him as you stepped closer. “I see him beating up on you all the time.”

“Are you stalking me?” He teased and you shoved his shoulder.

“Says the boy who tells his aunt about my mini skirts.” You shot back before pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Touché.” He squinted at you. “You know, you could’ve just told him to back off. Now you’re stuck pretending to be my girlfriend.”

“Would you stop?” You pouted as you sat back down on his bed. “I don’t feel stuck. I think this is gonna be fun.”

“Not that I’m not enjoying looking at legos with you, but wouldn’t you rather be spending your time with your actual friends? Not your fake boyfriend?” He asked as he took a seat beside you. You took a rubix cube off his nightstand and toyed with it, solving it almost immediately.

“Wanna know a secret?” You asked him as you handed him the solved rubix cube.

“Tell me.” He urged.

“I hate those people.” You laughed sadly. “All of them. Everyone who cares more about what brand you’re wearing than how your day was. I don’t think I’ve ever had an intelligent conversation with any of my “friends”.”

“Then why do you hang out with them? And how was your day?” He added to make you laugh.

“It’s a lot better now.” You said as you drew your knees up to your chin. You had shed your boots at some point and Peter could see your mismatched socks. “And I hang out with them because they count on me to. I don’t know when I became the cult leader around here but now they don’t leave me alone. It’s like, you have to be at this party and you have to wear a dress by this brand unless you got it from this store because that’s cheap. And you must wear your hair this way and drink this alcohol and know this song. It’s exhausting. That glue smells like flint stones vitamins, by the way. It’s all over my hands.”

“I didn’t realize being popular was so trifling.” Peter replied as he reached for a bottle of web dissolver (disguised as hand sanitizer) on his desk and offered it to you. You held out your hands and he squirt some in.

“I know how it sounds.” You said lowly. “I know that people would kill to have my status. But no one in my circle is happy. They’re running on 10 shots of expresso and fake smiles.”

Peter took what you said into consideration as he watched the solemn expression on your face.

“Are you unhappy?” He realized. You had said no one in your circle was happy, and he worried that included you.

“Sometimes. A lot of the time, actually.” You admitted and his heart sank. “I know it looks like I have a lot of friends, but I don’t have a single one. Not one who cares about me or checks on how I’m doing, anyway. I would give up my dozens of fake friends for one real one.”

You kept your eyes down as you spoke to hide your emotions, but Peter couldn’t ignore it. He tried to redeem himself from earlier by putting his hand over yours.

“I care about you.” He promised. “And I may be your fake boyfriend, but I’m your real friend…friend.”

You gave Peter a half smile and flipped your hand so you were holding his instead of just under it.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve done something after school that I actually enjoyed.” You told him.

“We could hang out more, if you want.” He suggested, not thinking you’d actually say yes.

“Yeah, totally.” You agreed, much to his surprise. Your smile seemed different to him, more genuine.

“To convince Flash, I mean.” He added quickly. Your face faltered a little and you took your hand away from his.

“Right.” You gave him a tight smile. “Flash.”

~

“I need to talk to you.” Peter whispered harshly the next morning when he found Ned at his locker.

“Is this about you walking home with Y/n? Everyone’s talking about it. People are saying you took her to an alley and killed her.” Ned recanted the rumors he heard with excitement.

“What? I didn’t kill her.” Peter defended. “She wanted to come over to see my legos.”

“Oh wow. And I had Tia and Tamera over to bake me a loaf of bread.” Ned said seriously.

“I’m being serious, Ned.” Peter sighed. “Flash was making fun of me and she just-“

“Peter!”

As soon as Peter turned around, you jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. He quickly wrapped an arm around you to keep you from falling as you hugged him tightly. When you let go, he could see you were wearing his hoodie over a jean skirt. It reminded of of his sleepless night as he couldn’t get over the fact that his bedsheets now smelled like you. He tossed and turned all night with a smile on his face, too giddy to go to sleep. He didn’t even care when he heard the birds chirping, signaling that he had never fallen asleep. Nothing could break his smile.

“Good morning, baby.” You cooed as you kept your arms around his neck.

“Baby?” Ned sputtered. “Big confused.”

“Haven’t you heard? Peter and I are dating.” You smiled brightly as you linked your arm through Peters. A huge grin broke out on his face at your display of affection as Ned’s eyes bulged out of his head.

“Fake dating.” He said to calm his friend down.

“Semantics.” You replied quickly. “If anyone asks, we’re together.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Peter explained when Ned still looked shocked.

“Look! I’m wearing your hoodie.” You pulled the hoodie forward so Peter could see.

“And I have your small headband.” Peter held up his wrist to show you where the scrunchie was.

“It’s called a scrunchie.” You giggled. You took his hand and held it to your chest. “We look so convincing. Ned, don’t we look like a couple?”

“I’m having network connectivity problems.” Ned mumbled as he struggled to understand what was going on.

“Wait. I forgot I have to talk to the student council about the dance decorations.” You remembered. “See you at lunch?”

“Have a good day, s-sweetheart.” He stuttered out a new nickname he had always wanted to call you.

“Sweetheart? I like it.” You twirled yourself under his arm before walking away. “Shaking things up.”

Peter and Ned watched you walk away, Ned with his jaw slacked and Peter with his eyes soft.

“Dude.” Ned breathed.

“I know.”

“You have a fake girlfriend.” Ned said in disbelief. “And it’s Y/n.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been in love with her for years.” He whispered.

“I know.”

“She is way out of your league.” He looked at his friend.

“I know!” Peter exclaimed. “Do you think people are gonna buy it?”

“I don’t know.” Ned answered honestly. “Why did she agree to this? You didn’t try to kill her in an alley did you?”

“No, Ned. This was all her idea. She asked for my hoodie and gave me this little skirt for your hair.” Peter held up with wrist with the scrunchie again.

“It’s called a munchie, Peter.” Ned rolled his eyes.

“Well she gave me hers so people would know she’s my girlfriend. Or fake girlfriend. I don’t really know the details.” He sighed but broke into another smile. “She came over yesterday and God, she’s so much better than we thought. She’s funny and a good listener and everytime I thought I did something lame, she liked it. She liked me! This might be the greatest thing that ever happened to me, Ned.”

“But is this really what you want? You’ve liked her since the first day of school when her dad almost hit you with her car and she started crying.” Ned reminded him. “Do you really want your first relationship with a girl, especially this girl, to be fake?”

“MJ was right, Ned. A girl like that will never be interested in someone like me. This is the only chance I’m gonna have with her. And yeah, it’s a fake relationship. But it’s a real friendship. I’ll take what I can get if it means I can be close to her.” Peter decided.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Peter. If this ends badly, it’ll crush you.” Ned said sincerely.

“I know what this. I know she’ll never actually like me. As long as I keep reminding myself that, I’ll be fine.” Peter insisted.

“Okay.” Ned patted his back. “If you say so.”

“Don’t-“

“Didn’t even notice. No punches there to roll with.” Ned began to sing as he walked down the hall. Peter kept his distance as he followed him to class, already thinking about the next time he’d get to see you.

~

Peter waited a lifetime for the lunch bell to ring. The best parts of his day were when he got to see you. Those parts were the morning if he got to his locker on time, lunch, 7th period, and after school when you had Volunteer Club. They met right across the hall from the Decathlon team and of Peter angled his chair correctly, he could catch a glimpse of you.

He kept his head up as he headed to his table, always on the lookout for you. He spotted his hoodie a few seconds before you made eye contact.

“There you are, baby.” Your eyes lit up as you made your way over to him. “Come on. Let’s eat together.”

Peters heartbeat quickened as you lead him towards your usual lunch table. It was already full of popular kids, the very popular kids that Peter feared.

“Your friends won’t like me.” Peter protested to save himself from 40 minutes of torture.

“No one at that table likes each other, Peter.” You laughed but he sensed a sadness in your voice. “Let’s sit with your friends then.”

You pivoted away from the cool kids table, earning yourself a glare from every inhabitant. It struck fear in Peters heart, but it didn’t phase you. You linked your arm through his again and led him towards Ned and MJ’s table.

“Are you sure?” Peter asked nervously as he made eye contact with an angry quarterback.

“Yes. Come on.” You tugged him harder until you got to the table.

“Hey guys.” You greeted Ned and MJ as you sat down. Ned looked up in shock and the water he was drinking fell out of his mouth.

“Girl?” He asked Peter, reverting to his inability to speak around you.

“Yes, girl.” You chuckled. “Come sit with us, Michelle.”

“Fine, but only because this cannot end well.” MJ picked you her stuff and slid next to you. You handed her her daily granola bar and she took it with a sly smirk.

“Flash is coming.” Ned whispered and you quickly took Peters hand. You leaned your head on your other hand and stared at him with a dreamy smile as Flash walked by. He shot you guys a look and pretended to gag before walking away.

“He totally bought it.” You squealed as you watched him sit down. “We are so good together.”

Peter nodded stiffly, his full attention on the fact that you were still holding his hand.

“Are you in the science fair too, Ned?” You changed the subject but began to trace patterns on Peters palm. It took him a moment to realize you were drawing daisies.

“No. I’m not.” Ned replied and everyone perked up.

“He just said a full sentence.” MJ realized.

“Yay!” You released Peters hand to clap softly. His hand felt cold without yours holding it and he felt disappointment sink in. He thought he’d be okay as long as he reminded himself that the relationship was fake, but he wasn’t. He wanted to hold your hand all the time, not just when Flash was around.

“Why not?” You asked as you opened up your lunch bag.

“I usually just hang out by the snack table until Peter wins. Then we go to Delmars and order a sandwich with every single ingredient on it.” He explained. “It wasn’t that bad until they added tuna to the menu. Tuna really doesn’t go with peanut butter and hot sauce.”

“Haha, he’s kidding.” Peter lies and shot Ned a look. “We don’t do that. That would be absurd.”

“I have this really strong feeling that you do do that-“

“Do do.” Ned chuckled.

“-and it sounds fun. Is it cool if I tag along this year?” You asked Peter, slipping your hand back into his. Peter looked at your intertwined hands before looking to Ned for approval.

“Girl welcome.” He nodded until he realized he was doing it again. “Damn it.”

“Of course you can come.” Peter made the decision when Ned was no help. “But I have to win first.”

“I’ve seen your picture in the display case the last three years. Come on, you had the robotics arm, the homemade spinneret, and the thing with the flies.” You surprised Peter by listing his lady entries. “This solar powered LEGO lamp is gonna blow the judges away. You’re gonna win. My boyfriend is the smartest guy in school.” You gloated as you moved some hair off Peters forehead.

“You know your don’t have to call him your boyfriend around us, right? We’re not the ones you’re trying to fool.” MJ cut in. Peters has tightened at MJ’s interruption.

“I know.” You said timidly and took your hand away from Peter again. He huffed out an angry breath but kept his mouth shut. If you could take his hand, he could take yours.

“She can do what she wants.” Peter said decidedly and laced his fingers through yours. You smiled proudly at him and squeezed his hand.

“Thank you, baby.” You said, happy he was taking initiative. “What are you doing after school today?”

“You’re in luck, Y/n. You chose the best possible boy to fake date. His schedule has been open for the last 18 years.” MJ jeered.

“Haha. Don’t you have a chicken to ritualistically sacrifice or something?” Peter shot back.

“Ooo. Witch joke. Original.” She whispered and twiddled her fingers like she was casting a spell.

“I’m not busy, daisy.” He ignored MJ and kept his eyes on you. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ve been so busy planning the dance that I never got a dress.” You told him. “Would you come with me to pick one out?”

“Do I want to spend my afternoon watching you try on dresses?” He repeated your question back to you and you realized how boring it sounded.

“You don’t have to-“ You began.

“Hell yeah I do.” He cut you off and you smiled. “Where do you want to meet?”

“If you walk me home after school we can go from there.” You suggested. Peters mouth dried out at the thought of going to your house but he forced himself to nod.

“Okay.” He squealed.

“Shoot, I almost forgot. I have to meet with Mrs. Carlisle about the DJ.” You packed up your lunch and cupped Peters chin. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be at your locker.” He nodded as your thumb slid off his chin.

“Good boy.” You smirked. “Bye Ned. Bye Michelle.”

Ned waited until you were out of sight until he freaked out.

“Dude! She invited you to her house! She totally wants to jump your bones.” He whispered loudly.

“Why would she jump on my bones? Like my skeleton?” Peter asked innocently. “You think she want to kill me?”

“How is the hottest girl in school interested in you?” MJ shook her head. “Especially when you ask questions like that.”

“Shes not into me. We’re fake dating.” Peter reminded them.

“And who’s idea was it to do that?” MJ cocked her head. “Because she called me yesterday to tell me all about your little plan.”

“Yesterday you were saying I’d never have a chance, and today you’re insisting that she’s into me?” Peter asked in confusion. “Wait, she called you? About me?”

“I hadn’t seen you interact before yesterday. She was doing girlfriend shit when no one was watching. Not even you! Check your notebook.” MJ grumbled and angrily took a bite out of her granola bar. Peter curiously opened his notebook and found a pink slip of paper inside. He opened it up and read it out loud.

“This is my favorite color on you. Have some sweet tarts, for my sweetheart. See you after school.” He read the note and held up a fun sized packet of Sweet Tarts.

“She put that in there when you were too busy staring at the jocks.” MJ told them. “Now tell me, why would she sneak candy into your notebook entirely out of Flash’s view? Who does that convince?”

“I love sweet tarts.” Peter muttered as he stared at the note. Even your handwriting was pretty.

“Everyone knows that. Remember when you had to go to the nurse freshman year on Valentine’s Day because you ate 18 packets?” Ned brought up.

“I don’t remember that.” Peter mumbled, trying to think of what Ned was talking about.

“Because you were sent home for going into a sugar coma.” MJ snorted.

“Wow.” Peter raised his eyebrows. “I never knew that.”

“Well she did. And now she’s sneaking you candy.” MJ said and laughed in disbelief.

“What’s so funny?” Peter laughed defensively.

“I think Y/n actually likes you. And I think that hilariously paradoxical.” She laughed again.

“What? No.” Peter didn’t allow himself to have hope, even for a minute. “She doesn’t like me. She’s just faking.”

“You’re going to her house today right?” MJ raised a single eyebrow. “See how she behaves. If you acts like your girlfriend when no one is around, you’ll know she isn’t faking.”

“Okay.” Peter decided, figuring he had nothing to lose. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

~

Peter stationed himself at your locker directly after school. He kept MJ’s advice at the front of his mind as he waited for you to arrive. All he had to do was observe you. He did that all the time anyway. Only this time, it counted. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and let out a breath.

“Baby.” He heard your sweet voice from behind him. He turned around and saw your equally sweet smile.

“Ready?” He asked as he took the books from your hands. You gave him a puzzled look and he explained. “I’m carrying your books for you. My uncle told me to do this when I got a girlfriend. I figured he’d still appreciate it, even if our relationship is fake.”

“He sounds like a smart man.” You said kindly and Peter nodded.

“He was. I’ll tell you more about him on the walk.” He offered and you smiled like you liked the idea. “Lead the way.”

Tag List 🏷

@a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @wendaiix3-blog​ @dorbiksbitch​ @t-monosapiens-h​ @badhollandfluff​ @silteplaittais-toi​ @thisisthebiplace​​ @seasidecrowbar​​ @spideygirl2003 @5-seconds-of-mendes @bitchylittleredhead @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @everydaymj @write-from-the-heart @blackpetalsmeandeath @electraheart-3174 @shawni-h @peterparkoure

[sgtbradfords]

"Sorry, were you sleeping ?" with Chenford ?

Love your writing

Thank you for the prompt anon, I hope you enjoy! :)

Tim Bradford’s Thursday shift had been one of the longest he had experienced in a while. Not that it was a hectic night, especially for a Thursday but it all started after he had dismissed his officers on the nightshift to hit the streets.

“Hey Sarge, got a second?” Officer Amelia Hatch asked as she walked to the front of the room, the room clearing out as everyone went their own way. “That kid from that domestic the other night, can I contact the school, see if she will talk to me or maybe the guidance counselor?”

Tim sighed, “It wouldn’t be a bad idea, the kid doesn’t need to be bottling that shit up.”

“I think she would have talked to me the other night, but the mother pulled her away before I could ask any questions.”

Tim took a second to think before giving her advice, his lips forming a thin line, “Swing by the elementary school near their address tomorrow after shift, see if that’s where she attends and go from there. But Hatch, don’t blame yourself if she has no intentions of talking now.”

“Understood Sir.” The officer told him before walking away.

Tim had a pile of paperwork in the metal basket on his corner of his desk that grows by the minute that he knew he needed to get a start on, but being a man of few habits, he had gotten in the habit of visiting booking just after the start of the shift.

“Evening Luke, any regulars in yet?” He asked the intake officer who was typing away at the computer behind the counter.

“Not yet Bradford. But there is a full moon and a bad batch of drugs going around.” The officer spoke, never looking up.

Being the nightshift Sergeant of the Mid-Wilshire prescient of the LAPD, Tim had gotten to know his fair share of regulars, the junkies, druggies, and the few prostitutes that frequented one of the three holding cells.

“Great.” He mumbled under his breath. When you work in law enforcement, you always keep track of the moon cycle, the brighter and full phased the moon was, the crazier everyone got. Though it is not a proven fact, it is just a well-known fact that you learn comes with the job. “Let’s get those in, processed out soon, the quicker the better.”

“Wreck on I-10, van’s stuck in traffic. According to radio traffic they should be here within the next thirty or so minutes.”

Tim was about to thank the officer for keeping him updated when a loud disturbance stopped him, the door of the garage flying open.

“I didn’t do shit, you motherfucker!” yelled the man that was being escorted through the door.

The Sergeant moved closer to assist, the man fighting the two officers every step of the way.

“Harper, you good?” Tim asked, grabbing onto the other man’s upper arm.

“Fine. Found this one defacing the side of the church on Harrison Avenue, drunker than a skunk.” She told him as she secured him to the bench.

“You bitch, I told you I had to piss! You can’t prove nothin’.”

Nyla rolled her eyes. “There’s footage on the camera in the alley and on my vest.”

“You fuckin’ lyin bitch.”

“Enough.” Tim glared. “Get him booked, then throw him in the drunk tank to sober up.”

Nyla nodded as Tim walked away, heading back to his office.

He sat down behind his desk, keeping an ear open on the scanner that sat in the corner of the bookshelf in his office. He picked up the reports, reading them one by one as he began sorting through the pile in the basket, checking, filling, and signing the reports filled out by his officers. The report in his hand was particularly captivating when the shaky voice of Officer Hunt came over the radio.

‘7-Adam-22. Shots fired at my location. Suspect gave chase but is now in custody. Roll back-up and EMS.’

Tim stood, grabbing the keys for his shop out of the top drawer of his desk. The rest of the evening was spent documenting the crime scene and making reports before he headed to the hospital, checking on the suspect and now patient, the man getting stitched after cutting his leg while hopping over a fence. Tim made it back to the station thirty minutes after his shift was intended to end, preforming the daily maintenance on the shop before he made his way inside, heading for the office of the day shift’s Sergeant, Wade Grey. He brought the other man up to speed, filling him in on what occurred overnight, by the time he was done updating his fellow superior it was well past eight in the morning and Tim was dead on his feet.

Tim hastily went to the locker room, changing out of his uniform and back into his normal clothes before heading out of the department. He was lucky that he only lived twenty-three minutes away (on a good day) from the department and for a Friday morning, his commute was harmless besides the lingering effects of the morning rush hour traffic.

He pulled the vehicle in, parking his truck in the drive, reaching over for his duffle bag from the passenger seat before he exited the extended cab. He pulled the ring of keys from his front right pocket, unlocking the wooden door as he made his way inside, disabling the alarm system before reengaging the security system as he kicked off his shoes. The silence of the house had always been strangely comforting, the quietness enveloping him as his sock clad feet padded through the dark bedroom, heading for the bathroom. He tiredly stripped of the clothes, throwing them into the hamper before he walked back out into the bedroom, blindly grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs from the top drawer of the dresser, sliding them on before he pulled the covers back and falling into bed.

He stretched out, laying on his stomach, an arm under the pillow and one over his head, sleep claiming him within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, the comfort of the memory foam mattress with the coolness of the multitude of pillows creating the perfect combination.

The dream he was having was one he wanted to stay in forever, the scene his dreaming brain had concocted was perfect, the sunset hitting the woman in front of him, casting her in the hues it was projecting.

“Lucy, I-“

Lucy smiled as she stepped forward, moving towards him. “It’s perfect.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She grinned, staring at him the sounds of the ocean before them began fading into the background as she leaned in, the buzzing in his ears growing louder.

“What the hell?” he mumbled in his dream as the image began to dissipate.

The buzzing of his phone bringing his sleep addled brain back to reality. There were only four people that could get past his do not disturb settings, and out of the four of them he could immediately eliminate two.

“Hello.” He grumbled into the phone, sitting up as he let out a yawn.

“Tim! You are not going to believe this. Wait- shit.“ she said as the sound of shuffling came through the receiver. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“No I wasn- actually yeah, I was.”

He could picture Lucy grimacing on the other end. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I forgot that you worked last night, and that tonight is your night off. I got my days mixed up. I’m just- I’ll just hang up now.”

“Lucy.” He sighed, laying back onto his pillows. “What did you need?”

“It’s not important, I can just tell you tonight wh-“

“Luce, I’m awake now, might as well tell me.”

“Are you sure?” she hesitated as he grunted on the other end. “Ok, so remember me telling you about that high-speed chase we had the other day on I-10? The whole thing is about to get weirder…”

Tim grunted, listening as she continued in her story, her voice becoming softer and softer the longer she spoke and before he knew it, he had fallen back asleep, lulled by the sound of her voice.

“Tim? Babe?” she asked, smiling when she heard the even breaths and soft snore coming from the other end. She ended the call, placing her phone back into her pocket as she made a mental note to make it up to him when she seen him after shift tonight.

Working on two separate shifts and trying to maintain a relationship was difficult, sometimes they would call the other, forgetting that they were likely asleep. Other times, one of them would stay awake for the other, long after their shift had ended, just to catch up. Tim and Lucy have always been a different couple but when all the pieces fall into place, it makes the perfect puzzle.

[supernatural-jackles]

The Arrangement

Title: The Arrangement

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,376

Warnings: Hunt Gone Wrong, SPN Level Angst, Anxiety, Mentions of Sex,  Tears, Cuddles, Fluff. 

Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, you take Dean up on the extremely useful  arrangement you both agreed on many years ago to help you get through the night. 

Squares Filled: Hurt/Comfort ( @spngenrebingo​)  Hunt Gone Wrong ( @spndeanbingo​)

A/N: Here is a lovely comfort fic for your Sunday evening! I hope y’all enjoy this one! It’s one of my favourites I've written in a while. This one was to cheer up my friend Help You Anon! Happy Reading!

 There were three things you were certain of in your life. One, monsters were most definitely real. Two, Bert and Ernie are gay. And three, you only have one person in the world that is solely made for you. Granted believing number one single handedly goes with number three and number two you know because Dean embedded in your head all those years ago. Either way, you knew them all to be true.

 You had been in the backseat of Dean’s ‘67 impala since you were twenty years old. Twenty and terrified of what had just happened right before your eyes. You were in the midst of studying for your midterm in the middle of the night. You had taken up the fourth couch in the library, not wanting to go back to your dorm room with your bitchy roommate still in there. You were about to fill up your cup of coffee when the lights flickered and the library went cold suddenly. You never believed in that sort of thing before. Not until you saw it with your own two eyes. An angry lady standing by the coffee station, blood dripping from her eyes as she stepped closer to you. You screamed and cried out, only to be thrown into the bookshelf. She almost finished you off when someone came rushing to you, slicing through her with what was a rod you used for a fireplace.

 Dean Winchester.

 You had been thrown pretty hard according to Dean. He helped you pack up your stuff before taking you to the hospital to get checked out. You had a minor concussion and needed about eight stitches for your arm that you didn’t even realize. He sat with you, making sure you were okay before he gave you what was now known as the talk.

 After that, you decided to join him on the road. Knowing what you know, you were never going to be able to live the same. You were going to be paranoid and vulnerable and you didn’t want to live your life scared. He offered to train you up and teach you what he knew about everything. You never looked back and most days, you didn’t regret it.

 In that time, Dean became your best friend. He was your mentor, your best friend, your partner in crime. That’s all it ever was. You knew each other like the back of your hand and it came in handy a lot of the time. You knew all his tells better than Sammy, and he knew all of yours. Somewhere along the line, it became the unspoken arrangement between the two of you. Eventually, the two of you came up with a check in system that seemed to work well for the arrangement. Purple means I’m not doing good and really need you right now. Black means sex. Green means I’m okay, I just don’t want to sleep alone tonight. Red means I need a distraction. White being I need to be alone for a little while. And blue, everything is okay.

 Over time, you became less and less about talking and more about taking what you need without asking permission for it. At first, it was a little awkward, but you grew into it quickly. After a rough hunt, you’d share a bed and curl into one another for that safety you needed. It started out that way. Some hunts were worse than others and needed special attention. Cuddling would sometimes turn into sex. Sometimes it was just sex. It was something that worked between you when nothing else did. When nothing else seemed to make it better. You found the comfort in his touch and the feel of his skin on yours. But it never went any further than that. You knew the life you lived. You knew it was short and dangerous. It was no life for love.

 You were on your way back from a hunt in Omaha. One of the hardest ones you had in awhile. Maybe it felt so bad because things had been looking up and this was a major set back. Or maybe it was the fact that things had gone so horribly wrong in the blink of an eye. All you knew was that you felt like a failure. Dean hadn’t said a word since the warehouse and for the first time in a really long time, Sam was pissed at both of you. It made for a really awkward ride home. Granted it was only three hours, but it felt like a lifetime.

 Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage just after midnight. Sam was the first one out, slamming the car door before stalking off into the bunker. Dean only got more angry as soon as the door slammed, following him back into the bunker, hot on his tail. You took a deep breath, kicking your door open to head in. You hated it when they fought. Every argument was the worst, more so when one of them stormed off without coming to terms with everything.

 You tiptoed into the library, both of their voices filling the bunker loud and clear. Hell, even if you were on the other side of the bunker you could hear them going at it. You swallowed hard, knowing full well that you didn’t want to get involved in it.

 “You knew full well what we were getting into and you still thought it was a good idea to go in just the three of us instead of waiting like I said we should have done,” Sam pointed out. His eyes narrowed at Dean as he stood on one side of the table.

 “None of us knew what we were walking into in there and you know it. None of us could have been ready, regardless of how many people we had,” Dean argued. “Besides that, who could have helped us Sam? Last I checked all we had was the three of us. Bobby is dead. Cas is MIA. Garth is a werewolf with a family to take care of. What, you want to call Rowena? Better yet, let’s take Jody and Donna, who have never handled demons before and have them play back up. What the fuck is your problem?”

 “My problem?” he scoffed. “My problem is this stupid macho ‘I can handle anything’ shit attitude you have when something doesn’t seem to be going our way. You give up at the first sign of trouble and jump into bed with her instead of having your head in the game. It’s shit like this that keeps happening and I’m sick and tired of losing, over and over again.”

 “We had one bad hunt,” you breathed out. “One in the last how many months?”

 “Sam, look. We’re all tired -”

 “Save it. I’m going to bed,” he scoffed, taking off out of the library and down the hall to his room. You let out a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. Dean stood there with his hands on the back of the chair, trying to control his breathing. You knew this was going to go one of two ways. The chair was going to go flying into the wall, or he was going to walk over and pour himself a drink.

 “You okay?” he asked you, turning his head to look at you.

 “Yeah,” you nodded, your voice barely there. “I’m just gonna go shower.”

 “Don’t wait up,” he swallowed hard. His words made your heart sink in your chest. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering if you should say something to him. Maybe that you lied when you said you were okay. He turned and headed over to pour himself a drink. There was no use. He had his mind set.

 You slowly wandered down the hall to your room. You knew you didn’t need a shower. You showered in the motel room to get all the blood off of you. If you scrubbed anymore, you’d start to bleed.

 You twisted the knob to your door, stepping inside before shutting it behind you. The room felt incredibly large. So much space for one person. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes to try and relax. Visions of the hunt came crawling back. The bodies hanging from the rafters in the warehouse. Families. Loved ones. Demons were evil, nasty sons of bitches. Now that Crowley wasn’t King of Hell, they thought they could do whatever they wanted. You were seconds too late and couldn’t exorcise the guy before he killed his vessel in the worst possible way. It was jobs like this that made you hate your job as a hunter. It was things like this that made you want to hang it up and never look back.

 You shook your head, trying to get the searing image out of your head. You opened up your drawer, grabbing a pair of comfortable pyjama pants and an oversized shirt. You could feel the heavy weight settling in your chest. Your hands were starting to shake. You knew you had about ten minutes, fifteen tops before everything came crashing down. Fifteen minutes to get yourself to safety.

 You slipped out of your room as soon as you got changed. Your feet took you quickly to Dean’s room. If he couldn’t be there, then at least the smell of him was. Your hand twisted the knob, kicking the door open as you took another deep breath. The light in his room was already on and much to your surprise, Dean was in his room, standing at the end of his bed in his sweats and his navy blue henley. You wasted no time. You were over at him in an instant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. Seconds later, his arms slipped around your back, holding you close to him.

 You had no idea how much you needed it until you got it. The smell of his body wash filled your nose, and his warmth coursed through you like a good glass of top shelf whiskey. This was exactly what you needed to begin to process the events that happened. He was what you needed.

 “Colour?” he muttered into the crook of your neck.

 “Purple,” you stuttered, tightening your grip on his shoulders. “You?”

 “Purple,” he whispered. “And a little bit of red.”

 “What do you need me to do?” you asked him.

 “I just want to feel you for a while,” he admitted. “What do you need from me?”

 “Close proximity,” you swallowed hard.

 “Climb into bed and I’ll be right in,” he assured you. You didn’t want to let go of him. You were needy and clingy and you didn’t want the cool air to hit you as soon as you let go. You knew he was coming right back to you. You reluctantly released him, slowly making your way over to his bed. The memory foam mattress did wonders for your back. His sheets were soft and his pillows were comfortable. His bed was the greatest place in the world, and the only thing that made it worth sleeping in was the man next to you. It was just a plain bed without him.

 Dean flicked the light out and shut the door completely. You rested your head on the pillow, waiting for him to slip into the bed with you. You could feel the tightness growing once more. Dean was the only one who seemed to make that go away. That’s why you were so certain that he was the one made for you. He was the one who was there for you, no matter what time or what it was about. He got you like no one else did. He was your one.

 He slipped his arm around your waist tugging you close to him. He positioned himself close to you, his leg fitting between yours, half of his chest pressed to you. His hand traced up to your cheek before he leaned in, giving you a soft peck on the lips that had your heart aching for more. You took a deep breath, settling against him. Your arms wrapped around his back, feeling the warmth of his muscles beneath your palms.

 “You lied to me,” he said with a soft smile.

 “You were mad. I didn’t want to push you after Sam,” you said softly. “Regardless, I still came in here looking for you. If I didn’t find you, I would have come back to the library. Or I would have texted you purple.”

 “It was a losing battle tonight,” he breathed out. “We weren’t going to make a damn difference even if we had gotten there two days before that.”

 “How can you be so sure?” you questioned.

 “Call it a gut feeling. They know how to toy with us,” he started. “They like theatrics. Chances are, that meatsuit was deep fried extra crispy before we got there. He would have been a mess.”

 “Doesn’t take away what happened in there, Dean. It doesn’t take away the fact that I saw those poor lifeless bodies hanging there. All that blood. This job sucks so much sometimes,” you confessed. “And it’s terrifying to know that it could happen to you and Sam and take the two of you away from me. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.”

 “We’re not going anywhere,” he assured you. “Even if Sam’s pissed at us right now.”

 “He’s cranky,” you shrugged. “He might be better in the morning.”

 “Yeah. Sleep usually helps him,” he nodded. “What about you? Are you going to be okay?”

 “I don’t know yet,” you swallowed hard. “I’m so on edge right now. My chest is tight, and I feel shaky. Like at any second, I’m going to have a panic attack and it’s only the start.”

 “So definitely purple for you,” he frowned.

 “I’m trying to be okay,” you mouthed, tears welling in your eyes. You felt a lump forming in your throat as you looked away from his gorgeous green eyes. You knew you would cave and everything would come crashing down.

 “I know you are,” he mumbled. “But it’s okay if you’re not. This life is hard, and it’s rough. We always get the short end of the stick. All we’ve got is each other to get us through the really bad stuff. And there is some really bad stuff.”

 “I hate the bad stuff,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “And not being able to save people.”

 “I know, sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing the back of his knuckle over your cheek.

 “Purple,” you sobbed out, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You tightened your arms around him, squeezing him hard, as if he was going to disappear before your eyes. You felt his arms shift, pulling you into him. You felt the tears running down the sides of your face and into your hair. Your nose was filling with snot and your bottom lip quivered. You felt it with your entire body. At the same time, you felt a bit of release. You were safe in his personal space, like he had this bubble around you that no one could penetrate but you. All the warding in the world there to protect the both of you from harm's way.

 “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Let it all out. I’ve got you.” Man, did you let it out. You quaked beneath him as the sobs shot through you. The tears kept on coming, sliding down the sides of your face and into your hair. Dean’s hold never let up. His body was warm and welcoming with every tear that fell. His breathing was even, giving you something to match yours to.

 Eventually your nose got stuffed up and the tears fell less and less. Your breathing began to even out. You nuzzled into Dean’s neck a little more, relishing in the warmth of him so close to you. You never wanted to let go of him. You didn’t want to feel that cold fill the space between you again.

 “Colour?” you whispered.

 “To be determined,” he answered. “How are you holding up now?”

 “Better. Crying helped,” you nodded.

 “It usually does for you,” he half smiled. “I’m proud of you. You’re good at letting go when you need to and asking for help.”

 “So are you, Winchester,” you said, clearing your throat. Your voice hoarse from the tears. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit for how good you are doing. I draw my strength from you on the bad days. The days where I feel like shit, you’re there to pull me out of my funk. You’re the bestest friend a girl could ask for.”

 “I got scared tonight,” he confessed. “When I saw that family and the way he was looking at you. For a split second, I thought he was going to target you and take you away from me. That’s why I charged at him and why I didn’t question what I was doing. It was reckless and stupid, but when it comes to you - I don’t want to go through the pain of losing you knowing I could have done something about it. I won’t.”

 “Then you have to know that I won’t go through it again either, Dean. How many times have I lost you? How many times has something gone wrong to take you away from me?”

 “Too many,” he answered. “But you can get out of this life. Settle down somewhere and do whatever it is you want to do. You have a world of options. I have you and I have Sammy. That’s my life. I won’t lose either of you if I can help it.”

 “See, that’s where you are wrong, Winchester,” you swallowed hard. “I have you and I have Sam. You know the reason why I’m still in this with you. I can’t do this alone. Hunter life or regular life. At least when I’m here with you, I have a family. I need you and I need Sam. End of story.”

 “You’re just saying that because I’ve ruined all other men for you,” he winked.

 “Shut up, loser,” you scoffed playfully. “You got an answer for me?”

 “Green. Just need you to sleep next to me tonight,” he breathed out.

 “Big spoon or little spoon?” you questioned.

 “I’ll be big tonight. You look like you could use some arms around you still,” he smiled. You nodded your head as your eyes flicked up to his gorgeous green orbs. In a moment of confidence, you arched your head up, capturing his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.

 “Night De,” you muttered, turning in his arms. He settled down behind you, wrapping his arm tightly around your middle. He rested his head against yours, making himself comfortable. You placed your hand on his, nuzzling into the pillow.

 “Night Y/N.”

 Your eyes fluttered shut as you found comfort in his arms. A small smile played on your lips at the feel of him pressed against your back. There was no one else in the world you’d rather be with right now than Dean. Not even Sam could replace this man’s spot in your heart.

 “Mmmh, plaid,” you muttered.

 “Plaid?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

 “Multiple colours,” you whispered. “It’s a new one for us. Unless you want to use kaleidoscope instead.”

 “Depends,” he paused. “What does this one mean?”

 “It means, in this fucked up world we live in, there is no one in the universe I’d rather have next to me than you,” you revealed. “All the colours and then some in one. It’s my way of saying that I love you, Dean Winchester.”

 “Well then, plaid it is,” he chuckled. “‘Cause I love you too.”

 “Mhh, good,” you yawned. “Besides, I’m fairly certain you’re my soulmate at this point.”

 “I know you’re mine,” he said, tightening his arms around you. “Made for each other.”

 “And now everytime I steal your shirt, you’ll know I love you,” you giggled.

 “Best arrangement we’ve ever come up with,” he breathed out. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

 “Night handsome.”

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

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me going! 

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [8]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: angst if you squint, I guess

↳  Word count: 2,294

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | You Are Here! | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

WEDNESDAY - 8 TWO YEARS LATER

The heart of Toronto would never compare to the magnificence of Times Square in New York, but the mass amount of billboards by the Eaton Center always managed to send you into awe during your nightly trek home from work. 

You looked up toward the billboards with a sigh as you waited for your streetcar, barely managing to squeeze out a smile as you saw Mark’s visage splayed along one of the electronic spaces. The night sky was too polluted with the city’s light to display any real stars, but Mark’s face was more than enough for you. For the past week, you had seen NCT127’s faces sprawled across that billboard, part of promotions for their latest global comeback. It was a brief respite as you waited for your streetcar home every night, to finally know that the day was over and that you could relax.

It had been such a long time since you’ve seen Mark in person. Even though you texted him every day when the two of you were awake at the same time and video chatted whenever he had five minutes to himself, it always felt depressing to be without him. To not kiss or touch or hug at all was torture.

Everyone knew that it was deadly for soulmates to be apart for so long, that depression would set in and even worse physical illnesses were a real risk. It was hard to be so far away and over the past year you had been let go from multiple jobs because you were constantly sick, and therein lies the problem. You simply couldn’t afford the solution to your problem. So, depression and illness it was. It took everything you had to keep your head above water, to keep your dream alive and know that one day your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it does at the present moment.

After a 20 minute ride on the streetcar, you entered your building and took the stairs up to your little hole-in-the-wall apartment, the bare minimum that you could afford after Rhiannon paid her last half of the old place’s rent. A single bed, bath and a tiny kitchen that housed a little chair and round table. Thankfully, there was enough counter space that you could place a tiny TV to watch Netflix on while you ate. You were lucky that the house had a large living room, which doubled as your studio.

The coffee table was one of the only things left from your old apartment, along with the tote of Marvel films you kept hidden below it. Atop the table now rested all of your cameras, a drawing tablet and cards that you got in the mail from Mark from time-to-time, instead of notes, binders and textbooks. Sitting against the wall across from the table was a small bookshelf and an easel with a large frame sitting on it, housing the last portrait you finished the night before, ready to be shipped to the buyer.

After… somewhat enjoying a quick pot of white cheddar mac & cheese and watching a rerun of Supernatural on your little TV, you head into your room and sit at the desk next to your bed. After starting your computer, you opened up discord and sat back in your wheely chair, waiting for Rhiannon’s status to change to green. Wednesday was the day that she had to be up early for her job, so that meant time for a 10-minute call before you went to bed and she went to work. 

Next to your computer was a copy of the photo you took two years ago, of your soulmate and all his friends beneath the shedding cherry trees in High Park. You smiled at it, the memory was fond but now faint in your mind. You reached forward to pick it up, but you stopped yourself. You knew that if you inspected the photo more, you’d only miss Mark and all your friends more. 

There were times where your apartment became so quiet that it reminded you how alone you really were. You had lived with Rhiannon most of your life, and that meant there was at least some noise going on at all times. Whether she had her headset unplugged when she was listening to music or watching youtube videos, she was clattering about when helping you wash and dry the dishes, or if she was walking around and tripped on nothing. She was always talking, laughing, or doing something that always let you know that she was there. Now, you had nothing.  

The silence is broken and you’re startled by the calling sound from discord, Rhiannon’s icon popping up on the top of your screen. You place your hand on your mouse and click the join call button, adjusting the webcam perched on the top of your desktop monitor. 

"Hey," Rhiannon was the first to speak, yawning and reaching back to pull her hair into a perfect, tight ponytail. 

"Hey," you respond, watching her closely and leaning your chin on your right palm. "How are you holding up?"

"I should be asking you that, Jesus, you look like the Hulk if he got the swine flu," she retorts, and even through the grainy quality you can tell she has sympathy written all over her face. "I'm doing great, we've got two cleanings today and a wisdom teeth removal, so that'll be fun." 

You scoff and attempt to smile, "I'm fiiiiine, other than the fact that I'm here and you're there, 13 hours in the future and at least one ocean in between us and an entire continent and a half. I'd say that constitutes abandonment."

"I got the getting while it was good and you know that," she stuck her tongue out at you. "You need to keep saving so that you can fly your ass out here." She squinted at the screen. "You really need to drink like… an entire bottle of nyquil, dude."

"If only it were that easy," you groan. "I don't even have a photographer's position yet. All I get is sitting at a desk and responding to emails… even with my head start, I can't find a good job and I barely make enough to keep living in Toronto." You stick out your tongue back at her for the nyquil comment. "As if I haven't been hiding a bottle of dayquil in my desk for the past week."

Rhiannon stopped what she was doing and leaned toward her camera. "You know why you can't get the jobs you want," her voice is soft, empathetic. "Mark is having trouble, too. He's been doing a lot of half days, so I don't know how they plan to do their tour with him being constantly sick." 

You looked away. "I can't afford to take any more time off… I don't want to lose this job. If I do, I'm not sure that I'll be able to make my rent."

"You're going to need to take time eventually,” Rhiannon stated firmly. "If you don't get at least some of your strength back you're going to end up in the hospital like I did. Remember?" 

You glanced back at your screen, watching Donghyuck wander around in the backdrop. You were beyond jealous that they got to live together. 

"Maybe. I just miss you. More than I miss having a clear passageway in my nose." 

Rhiannon smiled sadly at you. "I miss you too, everyone does. You'll be here soon, I promise. I gotta go, sleep well and drink plenty of water, okay?"

"Okay." 

Rhiannon waved at you before her screen went dark, ending the call. The call was shorter than usual, so you presumed that she had woken up late. You zoned out a little, acutely aware that the apartment had gone silent again. You didn't want to cry, to give up after surviving for so long. You had made it this far without letting everything get to you.

You knew that your deteriorating health was because of your separation from Mark and companies saw that as a liability, even though laws had come into place last year to protect separated soulmates from workplace discrimination. You felt a tiny ping of hope when Rhiannon said you would be able to move soon, but you knew she was lying to make you feel better. 

Feeling lethargic, you stand and make your way to the dresser in the corner of your room, stripping and throwing your clothes about the room. You open up a drawer and pull out a pair of sweatpants and the softest t-shirt you could find and slipped them on, wandering to your bed and slowly climbing in. You slipped off your glasses, placing them on your desk and reached forward to turn off your lamp.

You hugged your polar bear and tried to get comfortable, hoping to fall asleep quickly. You supposed you could call into work when you woke up; at least your manager was nice enough to understand when you needed a day off. You rolled over, tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn't come. Not while your phone was constantly buzzing. 

"What the hell," you mumble to yourself, untangling yourself from the knot of blankets you had tied yourself in to reach for your phone. Your lock screen lit up with a photo of Mark, one you had taken two years ago of him standing in Union Station. 

[Rhiannon (5)] 

She sure knew how to type quickly. 

Rhiannon: I'm on my way to work, I'll let you know when I'm there

Rhiannon: sorry our call was so short, I was running a little late

Rhiannon: I talked to Mark last night, did he say anything? 

Rhiannon: are you asleep already? It's been like 5 minutes 

Rhiannon: ok you're basically just ignoring me at this point

You: calm down bro I was getting in my pyjamas 

Rhiannon: I forgot how slow you get when you're sick, I could die of boredom waiting for you to respond 

You: hardy har 

Rhiannon: so have you talked to mark today? 

You: around lunchtime he woke up from a nightmare but I assume hes busy right now 

Rhiannon: Things have been pretty bad around now, I think you might have guessed that

You: Yeah, things aren’t really that great here either, but I’m more worried about Mark… have they given him time off? 

Rhiannon: Not much besides half days. He’s really been missing you. Maybe you should message him and see if he’s not busy

You: Yeah, maybe. I feel really guilty

Rhiannon: I know. I still could help you buy your plane ticket, you know. You: You know I can’t do that, I can’t take more from you than I have already. I owe you too much.

No response. 

You: Rhiannon I’m sorry 

You: Come on, you can’t have scrubbed in that fast!

You sighed, staring at your screen and still seeing no response from your best friend. You took a deep breath in and immediately regretted it when you began coughing up a lung, but at least you weren't upchucking your dinner. Instead, you decided to send a text to Mark.

You: mark, you there? 

You close your mind for a moment, thinking that maybe going to bed even later than usual would just make you more sick in the end, but you really needed to know what was going on. 

Mark: yeah I'm here babe, what's wrong, can't sleep? 

You: no not really… do you have time to talk for a bit? 

Mark: yeah, my legs gave out during our first practice so I'm taking a break

You: I'm sorry

Mark: it's not your fault (Y/N) 

You: it kind of is, we're both dying because I can't afford to move 

Mark: (Y/N), we're not dying, and it's okay, you'll be able to move soon

You: face it you know that we are… I haven't felt this horrible in a long time and I've thrown up three times today 

Mark didn't respond right away. 

Mark: why are you putting yourself down so much 

You: I just… have a lot of regrets right now 

Mark: what do you mean

You licked your lips and rolled over in bed, wondering if you should tell him.

Mark: are you okay? 

You: no, I feel like this would make you hate me 

Mark: I could never hate you and you know that. Tell me what's been bothering you.

You: For the past while… Rhiannon’s been offering me money. It’s honestly not much because everyone’s struggling nowadays, but it would be enough for me to fly to Korea, and I’ve felt so guilty about it that I kept saying no and she stopped offering

Mark: You mean that you could have been here faster? You: and now I feel that saying no was a really bad idea… and I.. I can’t afford anything, barely even food and now I hear that you’re even more sick than I am and I feel terrible

You: I don’t know what to do

Mark: It’s okay, (Y/N), really. I know how hard it is to take money from someone else, I’m not mad at you

You: Really?

Mark: I’m just disappointed that I have to keep waiting. You’ll be able to move soon, I promise, I promise, I promise

You: Are you going to be okay

Mark: As long as you are. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll be there for you the second you land. Okay?

You: Okay. I… I should probably get some sleep now. Mark: Rest well, I love you

You: I love you too 

You sighed, placing your phone on your desk and turning over in your bed. It was time.

[cakesunflower]

Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 2

Previous Part: Part 1

One of the biggest changes from teaching in a small town in Nevada to a high school in Los Angeles was the technology. It wasn’t that Odessa was technologically challenged—she was aware of most of the software the school used and was able to get around it pretty well. But Monday was proving to be a challenge as her computer kept crashing, preventing her slideshow from appearing on the Smart Board, and Odessa had been trying her best not to get flustered in front of the ninth and tenth graders even as they tried to help her out. It only made her feel worse when she failed to remember a couple of their names.

Odessa told herself she was still new at the school, and wasn’t used to teaching so many students since her old school was less than half the size of this one. It was understandable that it would take her time to put names to the faces she would be seeing every day, but that didn’t meant it didn’t make her feel like shit for getting names wrong or just not remembering them at all. She didn’t want her students to think she didn’t care.

When her last class of the day walked out of the classroom, Odessa let out a sharp breath and dropped her forehead to rest on her folded arms on top of her desk, shoulders sinking with the breath she expelled. She closed her eyes, hearing the bustling of the hallway outside as students lingered by lockers or made their way to their next class, and tried to calm herself down. Telling herself she was being overdramatic and that it was just one bad day wasn’t necessarily helping, but Odessa had never really been one to go easy on herself. 

“Alright, Miss Kline?” Odessa looked up at the sound of the deep accented voice, looking towards the door to see Calum watching her with raised eyebrows. He stood with arms crossed over his chest, right shoulder leaning against the door frame as he eyed her curiously.

Odessa ignored the embarrassed flush she felt heat her skin as she sat up with a deep inhale, shoulders straightening as she offered Calum a small, close mouthed smile. “Just one of those days, I guess,” she told him truthfully, hands bracing on her desk. 

Calum clicked his tongue. “Ah,” he sounded knowingly, one corner of his lips quirking up. “Rough one, was it?”

She scoffed, sound nearly defeated as her shoulders slumped. “That’s kind of an understatement.”

He chuckled lowly, pushing himself away from the door. “Right—come to my room,” Calum said, ticking his head to the left encouragingly before he took a step over and disappeared.

Odessa raised her eyebrows, curiosity itching at her as she stood up and followed him, stepping out in the hall in time to see him enter his classroom two doors down. The hallways were emptying out as students began rushing, and when Odessa entered Calum’s classroom, she realized he didn’t have a class this period, either. 

She liked his classroom; the desks were all placed in a U shape, his included, and he had told her it was because he wanted the set up to be the way he taught: open where everyone saw and heard one another. Just like Odessa’s room, he had a bookshelf in the back stacked to the brim, a closet where the textbooks were stored at the end of the year, and bulletin boards in the back with literary posters as well as some of bands and musicians, which wasn’t surprising. 

Odessa followed Calum towards his desk, watching as he sat down in his chair, giggling when the weight of his body and the wheels on the chair had him rolling away until he leaned forward the grab the desk and pull himself back. Calum merely grinned before he reached for the bottom drawer, pulling it out to show Odessa the snacks he had in there. “What the hell?” Odessa laughed, eyebrows shooting up as she looked inside.

Calum leaned back in his chair, hands lacing over his stomach as he told her, “They’re mostly for me whenever I get hungry, but sometimes I give ’em to a student who impresses me the most in class.” 

She felt an amused smirk curl at her lips, sitting at the edge of his desk as she raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you show favoritism?”

“I show appreciation,” he corrected her with a grin. Then he gestured to the drawer and added, “Go on—pick something you like.”

She blinked in mild surprise. “Really?”

Calum nodded. “It’s my dumb way of trying to cheer you up,” he told her, and his words had Odessa’s heart melting because the gesture was so kind and thoughtful—something she truly appreciated after the day she’d had.

“It’s not dumb,” Odessa told him, her voice as soft as her smile as she looked down at the drawer. Her eyes caught sight of the small blue bag of mini sandwich cremes, bending down to pull it out before straightening and letting her eyes meet Calum’s. He still wore that smile on his face, kind and charming, and Odessa nodded at him with a smile of her own. “I appreciate it, Calum.”

He used his foot to close the drawer and sat up, propping his elbows on the desk as he looked up at her with dark brown eyes, resting his chin on his knuckles. The two of them were close to one another, yet Odessa ignored the heat of his body and focused on his words as he spoke. “I know it wasn’t an ideal day, Odessa, but you’ll get the hang of it, yeah? The transition to a new school isn’t easy but, like I said, if you need anything, let me know. I’m here to help.” Then, with a return of his charming smile, he added, “And provide comfort snacks.”

Odessa let out a small laugh as she opened the bag of cookies. “These are my favorite,” she told him as she held up one small cookie between her index finger and thumb. “Thank you, though. I guess I’m still getting used to teaching in a school of this size compared to where I taught back home,” she reasoned with a tired sigh, dropping her gaze to the bag in her hand. “Everything’s so different.”

“I can imagine,” Calum hummed in understanding, tilting his head to let his fingers run through his blonde hair and muss them up a bit before she felt his gaze on her again.

“On top of that, I’m still trying to adjust to living in a city and that on its own is challenging.”

With a tilt of his head, Calum inquired, “You don’t like big cities?”

She shrugged after swallowing one of cookie. “Not really used to them,” Odessa told him, crossing her ankles, making sure she didn’t knock over anything on Calum’s desk as she remained seated on it. “Spent most of my life in my hometown in Nevada except for when I’d visit my grandparents or the four years at college, but—” she let out a small laugh as she shot Calum a look. “Berkeley isn’t the same as Los Angeles.”

“Yeah—L.A.’s in a league of its own,” Calum told her with a gentle chuckle before sitting up once more. “But it’s all about giving it time, y’know? Before you know it, you’ll be in love with the city. And if you need a little help with that, I’m happy to offer my services,” he added with arms crossing over his chest as he shrugged modestly.

Odessa felt a smile tug at her lips, lowering her chin as she laughed gently. “You’ll be my tour guide?”

Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes, knocking her foot with his as he told her. “I’m your friend. Get that through your head, Miss Kline.”

“Sorry, Coach,” Odessa returned with a teasing grin, referring to him as what the students did. No one really called him Mr. Hood, Odessa had come to learn. Being the soccer coach for the boys’ varsity soccer team, all of the students called him Coach, whether they were his athletes or not. Calum grinned at her use of it, clearly fond of the title. 

She continued eating the cookies, a comfortable silence falling upon them for a brief moment. But when Odessa’s blue eyes landed on the instrument in the corner of the room, she raised an eyebrow. “You brought your guitar?”

Calum turned his head to follow her gaze, as if he’d forgotten it was there. “Oh, yeah,” he answered with a chuckle, looking back up at her. The fluorescent lights of the room glimmered against his dark irises. “I do this thing where for a couple of the stories I teach the class, I’ve got a song for them that I’ll sing for the class. The kids seem to enjoy it.”

Odessa blinked as both of her eyebrows rose, feeling the awe rush through her too quickly and the smile on her face widen as she took in his words. Why was that so endearing? The devotion Calum had to his students was just like Odessa’s, maybe more, and it made her all the more fond of him. She could tell, with the glimmer in his eyes, how much he truly enjoyed teaching, how he wanted to make it fun for his students, and as a teacher, Odessa admired that. “That’s great,” she sounded with a light laugh, the appreciation clear in her tone. “A coach, a teacher, a musician—you’re just gunning for Teacher of the Year, huh?”

Calum blew a light raspberry, pressing his lips together after as he waved her off. “’Course not—I do this for the kids.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “But the title isn’t too shabby.”

She laughed before popping another cookie into her mouth, shaking her head in amusement as Calum merely grinned, the crinkles by his eyes softening his otherwise sharp features. Odessa could easily say this budding friendship wasn’t too shabby, either.

*****

Wednesday evening found Odessa at a local Italian restaurant for an early dinner with Sierra, Crystal, KayKay, and Paige. She had just gotten off work, staying an extra hour or so in her classroom grading classwork before leaving to join the four other women, who made her feel welcome as soon as they all had been introduced. Odessa was grateful for the company, despite being with her college roommate and the mild discomfort she felt in Paige’s presence. Still, she wasn’t going to let it put a damper on her mood.

“How’re your students, Odessa?” Sierra questioned, sitting across from her as she ate her salmon. “Are they a handful?”

Odessa let out a laugh after sipping her drink. “Not for the most part, no,” she answered, picking up her fork. “They’re all so smart, you know? Some of them have such interesting perspectives on the books we read that I never picked up on. Sometimes I think they should teach me instead,” she laughed.

As her laughter subsided, KayKay asked, “And are the other teachers nice?”

“Yeah, totally,” Odessa nodded truthfully before scoffing lightly. “But for the most part, Calum and I stick together since we’re the only ones close in age and in the same department.”

The second his name fell from her lips, Odessa had a feeling she was going to regret it, her thought confirmed when she saw the subtle, almost unnoticeable quirk of Paige’s eyebrow. She liked Calum, Odessa knew, and when Paige liked a guy, she had the habit of becoming protective, eyes sharp and ready to defend what she believed was hers. Even if it wasn’t. “You two get to hang out a lot during school?” Paige asked as she reached for her glass of wine. 

To anyone who didn’t know Paige as well as Odessa did, her question probably came off as innocent, just conversationally curious. But Odessa could pick up on the skeptical undertones lurking within her voice, like she was digging for information. Would Odessa ever be able to keep her guard down around her? “Only when we don’t have class,” she nonchalantly answered, twirling some noodles around the piece of shrimp on her fork. “He’s good company.”

“Mm, speaking of which,” Crystal hummed, obliviously and fortunately cutting off whatever Paige may have had to say. Blue eyes landing on Odessa’s, she said, “Michael and I are having a little party Saturday night. I think he’s gonna DJ the whole thing and maybe we can get the boys to actually play something.” Gaze pleading, Crystal added, “Please come.”

Sierra and KayKay added on their pleads, and Odessa couldn’t fight the smile that upturned her lips. These new friends of hers were sweet and kind, and Odessa could easily admit their company was making her transition into living in Los Angeles easier. The friendship they offered her was one she was grateful for, easily putting her at ease as she agreed to come by to the party.

Once they ordered dessert, Odessa excused herself to go to the bathroom, only to press her teeth together as Paige shot up as well and chirped, “I’ll join you!”

Odessa wished it was socially acceptable to sit back down and say never mind.

Instead, she merely pressed her lips together in a close mouthed smile before making her way to the bathroom in the back, all too aware of Paige following after her. Odessa didn’t mind the silence between them—preferred it, actually—as the heels of her ankle boots clicked sharply against the floor of the bathroom, making her way into an empty stall. When she stepped out after flushing, she saw Paige by the sink, reapplying her nude lipstick as Odessa stepped up, a sink’s distance away, to wash her hands.

The silence between them didn’t last long enough. “I’m excited for Saturday—Michael could totally be, like, a professional DJ if he wanted to,” Paige hummed after rubbing her lips together.

Odessa didn’t want to, but she still made conversation as she pumped some soap into her hand. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be fun if the boys play something, too.”

“Oh, hell yeah—they’re incredible,” Paige nodded in appraisal as Odessa dried her hands with a paper towel. As she then moved to reapply her own lip gloss, Paige turned to lean against the sink, arms crossing over her chest as she innocently continued, “I love when they have gigs. They’re so fun.” With a quick laugh, she added, “Most of the time Cal and I end up going home after, so I can’t wait.”

Odessa fought to keep the scoff from escaping—or keep the unwanted image Paige’s words conjured up out of her head—as she balled up the paper towel and threw it in the trash. The forced innocent, nonchalant tone in Paige’s voice told Odessa that Paige was only trying to get some kind of reaction out of her—not that Odessa would give her one. Or even had the right to have a reaction. Odessa prided herself in not letting her feelings run her too much, made it a point to believe that whatever attraction she may feel towards Calum was just that—an attraction. Physical, that’s all. It wouldn’t be the smartest idea for it to be more; he was a friend, her friends’ friend, and a coworker. No point in risking any of that.

Especially if Paige was involved.

Still, Odessa wanted to laugh at how hard she was trying to—to what? Fish for something? Trying to see if Odessa was interested in Calum because Paige already had a claim over him? Please. All Odessa wanted to do, in that moment, was point out that the boys didn’t have a gig and that Paige was just trying too hard—especially when she remembered Luke’s words from that night of Calum not being as interested in Paige as she was in him. But Odessa was nice. She’d never say it—to her face, at least.

So Odessa merely smiled as she glossed her lips, trying to keep whatever contempt she may feel for Paige at bay as she looked up, meeting Paige’s gaze through the reflection of the mirror. Odessa noticed the glimmer in Paige’s hazel eyes, sharp and purposeful. An easy smile quirked as Odessa’s lips as she offered a shrug. “Should be fun.” 

Whatever Paige was looking for, she wasn’t going to find it with Odessa.

*****

“Jeez—Grams, we don’t need all of these ingredients,” Odessa huffed, watching as Grams placed an abundance of the same items in their already filling shopping cart—all ingredients to make cookies, brownies, cakes, you name it. “You don’t have to bake every other day, you know.”

Grams scoffed dismissively, eyeing the different brands of chocolate chips. “It keeps me busy—plus, you know Grandpa loves his sweets. So do you.”

Odessa rolled her eyes, arms folded on top of the cart handlebar as they stood in the baking aisle. “Yeah, and so do you. Even though you have diabetes,” she responded pointedly with a raise of her eyebrows. If this kept up, Grams would be giving Odessa a heart attack—and not just from all the brownies and cookies.

“I take care of it, relax,” Grams hushed, not at all phased by Odessa’s words. Not that she expected her to be. 

It was Odessa’s turn to scoff. “Eating one brownie or cookie every time you bake them doesn’t mean you’re taking care of it,” she sighed, running her hands through her straight brown hair and used her free hand to push the cart into the cereal aisle. “That adds up, Grams.”

“You worry too much.”

Odessa stuck her tongue out at the older woman. “You don’t worry enough.”

Grams waved her off, clearly not taking Odessa’s worries too seriously, but Odessa knew Grams took some of it seriously. She had to, what with all of Odessa and Grandpa’s warnings and worries being sounded every time. It’s one of the reasons why Odessa decided to live with them—other than saving money and because they had all but pleaded for her to come stay with them. Grams always had the habit of running around to keep up with errands and housework, even when she was sick. She was the most stubborn person Odessa knew, and would often join in with her mom, a flight attendant, whenever she was on FaceTime with Grams and were all but yelling at her to sit down and relax. When she wasn’t working, Odessa made sure to take as much load off Grams’s plate as she could.

Clicking her tongue Grams said, “Can you grab that box? You’ve got long legs.”

Odessa scoffed as she glanced up at the family sized box of Cheerios, Grandpa’s favorite, sitting on one of the top shelves. Odessa already knew she wouldn’t be able to reach it, no matter the length of her legs, but tried anyway as she stretched her hang up and stood on the tips of her toes, grunting when she failed to grab the box.

“Damn,” she huffed, puckering her lips as she glared up at the box like it was mocking her. She settled back down on her feet as she glanced around to see if there was anyone who would be able to help, only to let out a scoff of disbelief when her eyes landed on the person turning into the aisle with a shopping cart of their own. With a gentle laugh escaping her, Odessa called out, “Hey, Calum.”

His eyes met hers upon hearing her call for him, and Odessa watched the smile upturn his lips as he continued his way over. The wheels of the shopping cart rattled as he approached them, greeting with a smile, “Miss Kline—fancy seein’ you here.”

Odessa chuckled as Grams spoke up, curiosity coloring her voice. “Who’s this?”

“Oh,” Odessa glanced at her grandmother, who came to stand next to her right when Calum stopped in front of them. “Grams, this is Calum. He’s an English teacher at the school and he’s also a friend of Luke’s.”

She watched as Grams’s eyebrows shot up, eyeing the tall, tattooed man in front of them as she smiled. Odessa could’ve sworn she saw a mischievous look in her grandmother’s blue eyes, which could never be a good sign. “Oh, the one you told us about?” With a chuckle and a gentle nudge to Odessa, she added, “He’s like your work-husband, isn’t he?”

“Uh—” Odessa nearly choked on her words as she gaped at Grams, her eyes widening in both amusement and embarrassment. Work-husband? Never had Odessa referred to Calum as that—or even thought of him as that, no matter how innocent the playful title may be. But Odessa knew her grandmother, knew the glint in her eye. The woman didn’t mean it as innocently as she uttered it. 

When Odessa forced herself to look at Calum, she wished for the ground to open up beneath her as she saw the completely amused raise of his eyebrows and the corners of his lips curled up, before pressing his smiling lips together to shoot Odessa a playful look. He looked too entertained by Grams’s words, and Odessa gave a shake of her head as she told him, “For the record, I never called you that.” Digging up some confidence, she added with a one shouldered shrug, “Besides, it’s a big commitment and I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks.”

Oh, God. Was she flirting with him in front of her grandmother? No. No, this wasn’t flirting, right? No matter how much it kind of felt like it was.

Next to Odessa, Grams chirped up, “Your grandpa and I married only after a month of knowing each other, so you two should be fine.”

“Oh, my God, Grams,” Odessa laughed, wondering if the nervousness in the sound was as evident as she could feel. Now her skin was heating up, cheeks flushing from the embarrassment she was faced with. She was all too aware of Calum’s gaze on her, could hear the deep, raspy sound of his amused chuckle as Odessa pulled her lower lip into her mouth. She never should’ve called him over. This was karma. Looking at Calum, though not entirely meeting his gaze, she asked, “Could you just—could you get a box of Cheerios down for us, please?”

Calum’s chuckles never subsided, and Odessa wanted to scream at the teasing tone his voice took as he responded, “Anything for my work-wife.”

Fucking hell.

Odessa exhaled sharply through her nose, fingers digging in her hair as she watched Calum easily reach up and pull down a box. He held it in his hands, grin apparent, as he offered it to Odessa. She pursed her lips, corners quirked, but just as she tried to reach for it, Calum’s grin widened as he pulled it away from her grasp and offered it to Grams instead. “Cereal for the lovely lady.”

Tongue pushing against the inside of her lower lip, Odessa scoffed as Grams let out a delighted laugh while receiving the box. She tapped it and said to Odessa pointedly, “I like him.”

She turned to drop the box in the cart and Odessa’s blue eyes locked on with Calum’s amused dark ones, a shit eating grin on his face as she stated bluntly, “We’re getting a divorce.”

Calum blew a raspberry before the boyish grin returned to his face. God—no wonder all of the students were obsessed with him. “We can talk about that at the Mike’s tonight,” he responded easily before quirking an eyebrow. “You are coming, right?”

Embarrassment slowly slipping away, Odessa found herself raising an eyebrow with a tilt of her head, replying, “Depends if you play something for us—I still have yet to listen to your band.”

The way his eyes lit up had Odessa’s smile widening, her heart giving a little leap at the excitement he so easily displayed as he gave a nod. “You’ve got my word.”

She smiled, all too aware of Grams watching them curiously, nosily. “Then I’ll be there.”

He nodded along, stepping back around his cart and tapping the handlebar with his fingers before gripping it and pushing it forward. “I’ll see you tonight,” Calum smiled before his gaze shifted over Odessa’s grandmother and added, “Good to meet you, Grams.”

Grams’s grin was too wide. “You too, honey!” His smile was charming as he left and Odessa looked at her grandmother, a pointed look on the young teacher’s face as Grams laughed. “I like him. He’s a cutie.” Then with a wink, she added, “Told you Luke would have cute friends.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten @loveroflrh @meetashthere @astroashtonio @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace @socorroann​ @csykychchng   

[izzielizzie]

Hi. Could you write a one shot where Nate and Bronwyn are childhood besties. And do everything together like tissue masks on a Friday or something? And they secretly like eachother?

Hi! Yes! This is very long and not my best work so I apologize, but enjoy! Also there are some notes at the end (because I obviously need to make this longer than it already is)

Thirteen Years Ago (age three):

Anna Rojas did not expect anything extraordinary to happen when she took her oldest daughter, named Bronwyn, to daycare for three hours. All she wanted was a break from the overly curious toddler, who had been pulling her younger sister Maeve’s auburn curls to see if they would fall out. Needless to say, neither Anna nor Maeve were very impressed. 

Bronwyn, who had been surprisingly calm as her grey eyes surveyed the room filled with loud children and multicoloured toys. Finally, her eyes stopped at a small bookshelf, and her face lit up. “Mama! Down!”

Anna obliged, and she watched as the small girl walked towards the books. The daycare runner stepped up next to Anna. “She’ll be in good hands Annalise.” Anna turned to look at the woman next to her, who had the same vivacious red hair and clear grey eyes as she did.

“Don’t call me that, sis”

Annalise’s sister, named Eabha, just grinned and gently pushed her towards the door. “Have a good three hours! I’ll make sure your oldest is in one piece and ready to pull hair when you’re back!”

Yes, Anna did not expect anything extraordinary at all.

Ellen Macauley didn’t think that three year olds needed to listen to their parents arguing, which was why she felt it was a good idea to send her son Nathaniel to a local daycare. The daycare itself was a child haven, but her anxiety was piling on. What if something happened? Knowing that if she stayed for too long she would take Nathaniel back home, causing even more anger from her husband, Ellen left as fast as she could. Through the haze of tears that disgusted her, Ellen couldn’t see where she was going, and she walked straight into a woman with bright red hair who was dressed fashionably in a cashmere sweater and black leggings. Everything about her screamed money, Ellen thought.

“Sorry,” Ellen mumbled, stepping back and nearly stumbling. The woman clamped an arm around her forearm. 

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman pulled her up and looked at her closely. “Are you crying honey?”

Ellen didn’t know why this woman cared, but her expression was so motherly that Ellen found herself talking about how she was afraid that her arguing with her husband would hurt her son and that she was always so anxious and tired and she wanted to make sure her baby was okay. 

The woman, who introduced herself as Anna Rojas, gently guided Ellen to the front window of the daycare. “Which one is yours?”

Ellen didn’t look through the window, but recited his looks: black hair, dark blue eyes, wearing a green shirt and black jeans. Anna gently squeezed Ellen’s arm and pointed through the window. 

“Is that one Nathaniel?”

Ellen looked through the window and saw a red haired woman who looked remarkably like Anna sitting with a book in her hands. One side of her was a girl with dark curls. She had a bright, curious expression on her face and she was looking at the picture book intently. Sitting next to her, with his hand clasped tightly in hers, was Nathaniel. He looked happy. Ellen released a small laugh. “Yes it is. He looks so happy.”

“He’s with my little sister and daughter. He’s in good hands I swear.” Anna paused and looked at the woman standing next to her. “Care to get a coffee with me?”

“Sure,” said Ellen.

Three hours later the two women were good friends. They expected to maybe see one another a couple times around the city. But they didn’t expect their children to become inseparable.

Five Years Ago (age eleven):

Nathaniel was used to screaming. His parents argued so frequently that he couldn’t remember the last time it was quiet. He just stuffed his head under a pillow and tried to zone out. He was surprised however, when the arguing stopped. He could hear his father screaming “Come back!” over and over again, a door slammed, and everything was silent. Fearing the worst, Nathaniel climbed out of bed and crept into the living room. His father was standing in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. He turned when he heard his son. 

“She’s gone. I need to get out of here.”

Nathaniel was suddenly terrified. He had no idea where his father was going, his mother was gone, and on top of it all, a thunderstorm was in that night’s forecast. The thunder terrified him, especially at night. 

“Dad, where are you going?”

“For a drive. I’ll be back soon.” He became suddenly very serious. He grabbed Nate by the shoulders and shook him hard. “You don’t leave this house do you understand? And don’t let your mother in. If she comes back I’ll… I’ll…”

Nate could imagine a couple of things that his father would do. His father shook him again. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes,” mumbled Nathaniel. 

With that, he was gone, just as a clap of thunder shook their rundown house. Nathaniel jumped. He knew what was going to happen: his mother would come back the next day, argue with his father, and leave for good. His father would drive and drive until he found a bar with enough beer to tide him over, and he’d show up tomorrow afternoon drunk and tired and ready to argue with anyone and everyone. 

He needed someone who would stay with him tonight, he decided as the thunder became more frequent. Without thinking whether he should or not, he picked up the ancient phone on the coffee table and dialed the one number he knew by heart.

Bronwyn arrived, soaked from head to toe. Her aunt, who she had been living with for the past few months as her younger sister underwent chemotherapy for her Leukemia, honked her car’s horn once to alert them that she was pulling out of the driveway. Seeing Bronwyn’s bespectacled face calmed Nathaniel. He and Bronwyn were both in agreement that the best day of their lives was the day they met. When Bronwyn was panicking over school or her sister’s health, she turned to Nathaniel. And when Nathaniel’s home life became terrifying, he stayed with Bronwyn.

 “Nathaniel, I’m so sorry,” Bronwyn stood on her toes to give him a big hug, which he returned, despite getting the front of his shirt soaked. Nathaniel closed his eyes. He felt better whenever he was around his best friend.

He pulled away. “Yeah, well, not much I can do. But we should get you some dry clothes.”

Nathaniel led Bronwyn to his room, where he pulled a sweatshirt and sweatpants out of his drawers and handed them to Bronwyn. She walked to the bathroom, and while he waited for her, Nathaniel lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was strange really, how three hours ago he came back from soccer practice feeling hopeful. He had scored three goals in a row, a personal best. Never had he imagined that this would be the day his whole life changed. Nathaniel didn’t move until Bronwyn came back and curled up on the bed next to him. 

“Nathaniel? What are you thinking?” Bronwyn asked him this a lot, especially when he put up walls and ignored everyone.

“I need a new name. Like, I don’t know, Tim.”

Bronwyn scoffed and rested her head on his shoulder. Even in his clothes she managed to smell like green apples. “Tim sucks, you need something better.”

Nathaniel appreciated that Bronwyn didn’t question why he wanted a new name. She knew why. She knew that Nathaniel carried too many connotations. She knew that Nathaniel was the result of a dysfunctional family. She knew that names carried power. 

“You’re right. What about Dante?”

“You wanna be named after an Italian poet?”

“I have no idea how you know that, but no, I don’t.”

“He wrote about hell or something. I read about it in a book the other day.”

“You read a lot. What about Niel?”

“That’s worse than Dante.” Bronwyn snuggled closer to Nathaniel. She was silent for a long time, and Nathaniel thought she had fallen asleep when she suddenly sat up, nearly knocking her glasses off. “I’ve got it! Nate!”

“Nate?” Nathaniel sat up too.

“What, do you not like it?”

“No, no, I love it. Bron… it’s perfect.” You’re perfect was what he nearly said. Embarrassed at himself, but also overjoyed at the new names that somehow fit him, Nate lay back down and stared at the ceiling again. Bronwyn, who was used to Nate’s bouts of silence, simply took off her glasses, put her head back on his shoulder, and drifted off to sleep. Nate stayed up longer, turning his new name over and over in his head. After a few minutes, the word Nate lost all its meaning and he turned instead to Bronwyn, who was snuggled up against him. He watched her for a moment as his chest grew warmer, a strange new feeling overtaking him. It would be nearly three years before he figured out what the feeling was.

It was love. 

Present Day (age sixteen):

Friday nights always came as a relief to Bronwyn, who could take a break from her stressful life and just relax with her best friend. Although, since most of her stress was caused by her best friend, tonight would not be relaxing. Bronwyn wasn’t quite sure when she crossed the line from friendship to love with Nate Macauley, but she had some guesses. Maybe it was the night she lay in his arms and helped him come up with his new name as his old life came crashing down around him. Perhaps it was the day he came running into her little sister’s hospital room, barefoot and still in his pajamas, just to be with her when the doctors were sure that morning would be Maeve's last. Or maybe it was when he too cried tears of joy when Maeve pulled through. It was the first time she ever saw him cry. Or maybe it was the night he stood out in the rain with Bronwyn so they could wait at the bookstore to get the final book in her favorite series. Or maybe it was when he punched Evan Neiman in the nose when he wouldn’t leave Bronwyn alone. 

Or maybe, Bronwyn Rojas had always been in love with Nate Macauley.   

Love, unrequited or not, was always better dealt with on spa nights, as Bronwyn’s other best friend Addy had said that morning. Which was how movie night turned into spa night. Bronwyn was surprised Nate agreed with the change. Now, as he rang the doorbell, Bronwyn wasn’t sure she wanted to spend any time with Nate, lest she say or do something stupid. She couldn’t afford to lose this friendship. Before she could pretend to be sick so she could back out of what was certainly going to be an awkward night, Nate was bounding up the steps and barging into her room. 

“‘Sup Bronwyn.” Nate collapsed onto Bronwyn’s bed. He looked really nice in black jeans, a black leather jacket, and a deep blue shirt that brought out the colour of his eyes. 

“Not much.” Bronwyn turned in her desk chair and stretched out her feet so they were resting on the bed beside Nate.

“Nice. So, spa night? Why?”

Bronwyn shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “Felt like changing it up. Also, it was your turn to pick a movie and you were just going to pick Ringu weren’t you?”

Nate shrugged. “Do not ask and I shall not lie.”

“That’s not a real saying.”

“Whatever Bronwyn, let’s just get this over with so we can eat a bunch of your mom’s brownies.”

An hour later, Nate and Bronwyn were lounging on the couch, charcoal sheet masks on their faces and a plate of brownies between them. Nate looked away from the TV, which was tuned to a kids show the pair used to like.

“God Bron, what does your mom put in these?”

“Coffee,” said Bronwyn as she took another brownie from the plate. 

“I wouldn’t mind some coffee.”

“Nate, it’s nearly nine. No one drinks coffee this late.”

“Ah, but Bronwyn, you are mistaken. I drank coffee at one last night.”

“This morning.”

“What?”

“One in the morning Nate.”

“Yeah, yeah okay. Anyway, the spring dance is coming up.”

“Yes it is. Are you taking Amber?”

Amber and Nate had been a couple since freshman year, and it definitely didn’t bother Bronwyn at all.

Nate gave Bronwyn a weird look. “Um no, we broke up.”

Bronwyn sat up and nearly knocked the plate to the ground with her foot. Nate lunged for it and caught it just in time. “The brownies are safe!” He declared before popping another one into his mouth. Bronwyn took the plate from him.

“First of all, no more, you’re gonna get a stomach ache. Second of all, why did you break up with her?” 

“No Bron, you have it wrong. She broke up with me,” Nate paused and looked at his hands. “She thought I was in love with someone else.”

Bronwyn paused. She was about to stand up to put the brownies in the kitchen, but she seemed rooted to her spot. Not another one, she thought.

“Well, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“In love with someone else?”

“Oh. I mean, yeah.”

“Who?”

Nate gave Bronwyn a pitying look. “You sweet naive girl,” he said. He took the plate from her hands and leaned forward until he pressed a small kiss to her lips. He pulled back and grinned at her. 

Bronwyn’s head was spinning (the fact that she wasn’t wearing her glasses wasn’t helping anything), and she wasn’t quite sure why Nate had kissed her when he was in love with someone else.

“Wait, but, who is it?”

Nate closed his eyes and sighed. It seemed like he was praying for patience. “You obviously, you idiot. I’ve been in love with you since we were eleven, although I didn’t realize it then. I mean, who else would I do this with?” He waved at his face, which still had the mask on it. 

“I, but, Amber?”

“Amber was just an, I dunno, an attempt to move on. You obviously don’t care for me that way, so…” He trailed off and stood up. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to mess up this friendship. I should,  I should go.”

Bronwyn was stricken dumb for only a second. Nate was heading towards the door. Bronwyn jumped off the couch and raced after him. “Wait!”

He turned around, looking hopeful, and Bronwyn stood on her toes and put her hands on his shoulders. “Nate?”

“Yes?”

“You still have a mask on your face.”

“And?”

“You should probably take it off before I kiss you.”

Nate grinned slowly. “Hey,I kissed you and you have one on too, Rojas.”

Bronwyn just laughed. 

“I love you Nate Macauley.”

“I love you too Bronwyn.” He put an arm around her and led her to the bathroom. “Now can we please take these things off now?”

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

Okay, so notes time!

1) I had not intended to make one section from their moms’ points of view, but it kind of happened and I kind of like it

2) I have no idea what Mrs. Rojas name is, so I made it up. I also don’t know what her sister’s name is, so I made that up too. (Technically they’re not made up, they’re the names of my sisters)

3) I know that Maeve doesn’t have auburn hair, or curls, but I like to think that her hair darkened and straightened out as she got older (am I pulling from my own El Salvadorian/Irish heritage because there’s absolutely no cannon stuff written about their childhood? Yes)

Okay, I hope you liked it!

[catsafarithewriter]

“Listen, I didn’t do anything this time, I was just there when things started to fall apart.” with Muta, if you'd please, that just screams him haha. i love your writing!

A/N: The idea for this prompt was inspired by this post. It’s just a bit of fun, with harmless Muta and Haru hijinks and extreme prejudice against polka-dots :) Enjoy!

(No real bowties were harmed in the making of this ficlet) 

x

Haru didn’t even mean to lose the first bowtie. 

Even if it was fugly. 

(“What,” she had demanded upon walking into the Bureau, “is that?”)

(”It’s a bowtie,” Baron had answered, as if he wasn’t wearing a blue polka-dotted monstrosity around his neck. He had righted it with some pride above the yellow  waistcoat it empirically did not match. “It’s one of my old suits; I’ve decided to take it out for a spin. What do you think?”)

(And he had looked so proud of himself that Haru hadn’t had the heart to reply honestly, which had mostly comprised of the genuine question of whether Baron was colour-blind.)

And so Baron, fugly bowtie and all, had accompanied them on the case, and only Baron had returned. 

Purely accidentally, naturally. 

And it honestly had been. There had been a costume change (Baron’s decision, obviously) and then a hurried exit (as usual) and by the time they had all escaped with only a minor dent to their dignity, Haru realised she had forgotten to grab Baron’s bowtie when she had swept everything else up. 

The second bowtie’s loss, however, might have been slightly intentional.

It had been a week after the previous case, and all thoughts of polka dots and fashion monstrosities had been replaced with things like groceries and laundry and trying not to get eaten by ogres. Regular things. 

And then it reappeared. 

Haru swung into the Bureau, already tying her hair back and securing her back over one shoulder when she stopped dead. 

“I came as fast as I got your message - we really need to find a better communication system than Toto dropping envelopes from above - just about anyone could pick it up, and it’s hardly subtle, but then again I guess those kinds of dramatics are right up your -- oh my god, it’s back.”

Baron turned to her, straightening out the tie beneath his collar. “What was that, Miss Haru?”

“The polka dots,” Haru said. “They’re back.”

“Ah yes, Well, as they say, you can’t keep good fashion down.”

“However much they may try,” Haru muttered. Then, “And the waistcoat, I see, is back in full force.”

“I believe yellow is my colour.”

Haru raised an eyebrow, but declined to comment. 

So when they needed something to tie the door-handles together to hinder their pursuers while they made a run for it with the giant’s golden goose, Haru suggested the bowtie with only the barest smidgen of guilt. It was either that or her belt, and she liked that belt. It had flowers decorated on it. 

And so fugly bowtie number two kicked the bucket when the door was kicked in. 

x

The third bowtie was when Haru began to get suspicious. 

After all, she could have believed that the first time, he’d somehow retrieved it without mentioning it to Haru, but there was no way that was the same tie. She’d seen it tear in half beyond repair, get trampled on, and possibly get eaten by one of the giant’s goats, for goodness sake. 

“Eh, maybe it’s a backup, Chicky,” Muta suggested when Haru brought it up mid-case. “Or maybe he grabbed it before it got damaged. You gotta admit, we weren’t exactly taking inventory while we were running for our lives last time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

So, to Haru’s shame - but not enough to reconsider her actions - she may have stolen the horrifying bowtie when (once again) they donned on disguises, and fed it to one of the pond koi. 

A week later, it reappeared. 

x

“It’s a conspiracy, I’m telling you,” Haru hissed to Muta at the Crossroads. She passed across a tuna sandwich to him. “Every time I think it’s been irreparably lost or damaged, there it is! One back-up tie I can believe - but two?”

“Maybe it’s a Creation thing,” Muta suggested around a mouthful of fish. “Like he can summon it back to him cause it’s something that was made alongside him.”

“Summon it?” Haru echoed. “Like in Harry Potter?” She had the fleeting, but no less amusing, image of bowties flying through the air like silken bats. She grinned, and then refocused on the mystery at hand. “We’ve got to get to the bottom of this.”

Muta yawn. “Have ya tried asking him?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Come on, this is a mystery, Muta.”

“You’ve already asked him, haven’t you?” he translated.

Haru deflated. “Yeah. He said that a gentleman never reveals his secrets.”

“Typical Baron.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do you need from me?”

Haru grinned. “We need to see how many lives that tie has.”  

x

It was frankly, Haru considered, quite amazing how many different ways one could destroy a bowtie if one got inventive enough. And, given the variety of worlds they visited, they had plenty chance to get creative. 

Bowtie number six bit the dust when it found its way - somehow - into the belly of an active volcano. 

Bowtie number nine got eaten by a plant.

Bowtie thirteen grew wings and flapped off into the sunset after a wayward wizard’s spell went rogue. 

And yet they kept reappearing. 

x

“Do you think he knows?”

Muta looked up from the newspaper he was flicking through. “Who knows what?”

“Baron,” Haru said. “About the bowties?”

Muta considered this, then folded down his paper to fix Haru with a solid stare. “Do I think,” he asked, “that Baron knows we’re systematically destroying his terrible polka dot tie after the kraken incident?”

Haru winced. “Good point.” 

“I mean, I ain’t gonna tell you how to scheme, but maybe tackling Baron in the middle of a sea monster attack and trying to fend it off with a tie.”

Haru nodded, lips pursed as she came to the inevitable conclusion. “So he’s toying with us.”

“Yep.”

 She continued to nod. “That explains why he looks so smug whenever he reappears with it.”

“Oh. So you finally noticed.”

“Well we can be sure it’s not accio-ing its way back to him,” Haru said. “After all, it’d be incinerated after the chimera incident. He has to have multiple bowties.”

“Maybe he’s ordering them in,” Muta offered. 

“Maybe, but...” Haru frowned. “That implies he has a tailor.”

“We’d have heard about that.”

“Yeah.” She considered. “He’d have strong-armed his tailor into making him a cape or cloak by now. Maybe he orders them wholesale from an online company.”

Muta snorted. “With his technology prowess?”

“...True.”

There was a long pause. 

“Of course,” Muta said slowly, “there’s always the possibility that he has a whole wardrobe of them. Like you see in the movies. Just hundreds of polka-dot monstrosities carefully folded in a drawer.”

Haru and Muta exchanged glances. 

“We really shouldn’t nosy...” Haru said, but without conviction.

“We shouldn’t...”

“But we’re gonna to, aren’t we?”

Muta grinned. “I knew there was a reason I got on with you, Chicky.”

x

Haru looked around the Bureau’s interior in despair, and then to Muta for help. “You know, I never thought about this, but there aren’t any wardrobes in here.”

“Where did he get the bowtie from in the first place?”

“He... You know, I don’t have the foggiest? He was already wearing it when I first saw it.”

“Eh.”

“Yeah, I know. Helpful.” Haru ran her hands through her hair. “I’ll look through the desk drawers, you check the books for... I don’t know, a hidden door or something.”

“Really?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“What about up there?” And Muta pointed to a series of boxes carefully stacked on the top of the bookshelves.

Haru looked up. And then up. And then some. “Pass me the ladder.”

“Are ya sure--”

“We’re getting to the bottom of this, Muta!”

He shrugged and collected up the ladder leaning against the corner, pulling it open and holding it in place. “Up yer go.”

“You know, this is all very weird,” Haru said as she scaled the steps. She glanced down at Muta. Or over at him, since the few steps granted her on eye-level with him. “I mean, there really aren’t any wardrobes in here, and Baron...”

“Face it, Chicky; how often have you seen him switch up his clothes?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No, I mean... no, he must change sometime...”

“Creations are weird, kid. You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it. I want answers. I want -- I want...” She stuttered as she tried to pull the boxes loose, but they jammed. She tugged at them, and the shelf wobbled. “Come -- on -- out-- you -- stupid -- box --got it!” She gave a cry of triumph as she heaved one box away. “Hah! Oh.”

“What’s in the box?”

“Hm, well it’s not bowties.” 

There was a creak, and before Muta could ask anything more, the bookshelf began to lean precariously away from the wall. Haru squeaked, Muta yowled, and both dropped everything to grab the shelves before gravity could take over. 

The creaking stopped. 

Haru exhaled. “Well, that was a close call--”

The next bookshelf over toppled forward.

And then the one on the other side went. 

When the dust finally cleared, there was an audible sigh from both. 

“Okay, so that was--”

“Not another word to tempt fate, Chicky.” 

“I was only going to say--”

“No.”

“But--”

“Nada.” 

 Haru pouted. “You say that like you’ve never made a mess in your life.” 

“What in the world is going on here?”

Haru and Muta both spun on their heels to see Baron standing in the doorway, and as their grip slipped, the middle bookcase finally gave way. Haru squealed and leapt out of the way before she could be squashed beneath it.

Muta raised his paws defensively. “Listen, I didn’t do anything this time, I was just there when things started to fall apart.” 

“Baron. Baron, Baron, Baron.” Haru skidded over the chaos, stumbling against the desk that had narrowly avoided becoming a casualty, and reached Baron. “How do your bowties keep reappearing? I need to know!”

Baron gently set his top hat to one side, returning to old habits to deal with the fact that the Bureau had looked better when a tornado spirit had invaded the building. “That is what this is all about?”

“...Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so silly...”

“Just tell them, Baron,” Toto called from the internal balcony. He had arrived when Baron had, and the smile on his beak implied he had known the mystery that had plagued Muta and Haru and had taken great joy in watching the drama unfold. “Before they decide to blow up my column looking for your secret bowtie stash.”

Baron nodded. “Very well. Please watch.” He reclaimed his hat and carefully exhaled, sparks of magic flowing up and over him as he reverted to his inanimate form. 

“Is this his way of running from the answer?” Muta stage-whispered.

“Keep watching, pudding-brain.”

Sparks flew up again as Baron returned to his flesh and blood form, but as he did so, subtle changes took place. The classy red waistcoat shifted colour, like someone dragging a swatch through a colour wheel until it rested on yellow, and the royal-blue bowtie became blotchy, making way for white polka dots that had drawn Haru’s attention so strongly in the first place. 

By the time Baron was blinking the gemstone glaze from his eyes, Haru’s jaw had dropped. 

“You can shapeshift?”

“Not exactly.” Baron righted his tie, as if it hadn’t been perfectly straight before. “All Creations have a default appearance that we can subtly alter as our personalities and style shift. I can not grow wings or a second tail, but I can nudge the set pattern of my waistcoat or - in this case - bowtie to fit my liking.”

Toto cackled. “You should have seen his experimental stage. He had grey fur for a decade before he went back to ginger.”

“Yes, thank you, Toto,” Baron said curtly. “We all go through phases.”

 “Louise laughed until she cried,” Toto informed them. “She said that they looked like they were cosplaying as yin and yang if they stood together.”

“Thank you, Toto.”

“Please tell me there are photos somewhere,” Haru begged.

“There are,” Baron said. “In there.” And he pointed to the pile of books smothered beneath the toppled shelves. He raised an eyebrow at Muta and Haru. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, kinda forgot about that...”

Muta trundled over to the mess, but Haru lingered a moment longer with Baron. She leant in. “Just for the record, I think you look great, regardless of your fashion sense.”

He grinned knowingly. “Even with the polka dots?”

She kissed his cheek. “Don’t push your luck.”

[punkrockmads]

Dandelions And Broken Glass

So, this isn't an Abby x Reader fic... this is a story tailored specifically to my personality and it's very important to me. I've been hesitant to post it but, yeah. Here it is!

Light. Flickers of white light fill the darkness. I think of them as tiny fairies flitting about, inviting me back into the cruel reality of life. The warm welcome becomes one of agony when I feel a searing pain in my right side. Slowly, my eyes open. A woman leans over me, moving a flashlight left to right, trying to see if my eyes will dilate. If I'm still alive.

The woman looks down at me with a soft smile, turning off the flashlight with a click and setting it down. Her skin is pale and wrinkled with age, her brown hair slowly graying. She has on a white lab coat. Doctor? Am I in a hospital? No, hospitals don't exist anymore. Not after the outbreak started years ago.

"Glad to see you awake." Her voice is soft; friendly. I'm not used to being near friendly people. "Do you remember what happened?" I shake my head. I have no fucking clue. "A couple of our people found you passed out and bleeding in an abandoned building. Looked like you took quite a fall. Straight onto a bunch of broken glass." I start to piece things together in my head.

I was looking through an abandoned building for supplies when a group of infected jumped me. I tried to run and one ran at me from behind, shoving me forward off of the landing and straight down to the first floor. I remember the sound of glass crunching underneath me and tearing through my clothes and skin. The infected were still coming so I flipped myself over, shooting as my vision went blurry and blood poured from the gaping wound above my right hipbone. When I had shot the last runner, I felt my body go limp and I blacked out.

"You're lucky a couple of our scavenging team members heard your gunshots. You had only been out for a few minutes when they got to you." The woman's voice pulled me back to the present. "I patched you up the best I could. You'll need to rest for a few days. But you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Where..." I try to speak but my voice is hoarse and my throat is dry. I swallow and try to clear my throat before speaking, my voice rough but clearer. "Where am I?" I go to sit up but the pain in my side forced me back down onto the bed.

"Catalina Island. Welcome to the Fireflies." I furrow my brows. I had heard the Fireflies were regrouping but I never bought into the rumor. I've been alone for about a year now. I used to travel with my older brother before... before he was gone. We had been in groups before but it always ended with the two of us traveling alone. We were a great team. "Can I ask you your name?" The woman continues to give me a warm smile, attempting to make me feel welcomed but I still feel anxious and out of place.

"Madison." I say, bringing my aching arm up to my face to wipe sweat off of my forehead.

"Well, Madison. I'll let you get some rest. For now, just stay in bed and try to be cautious of your stitches." And with that, the woman leaves my line of sight and I hear a door open and close gently.

'Yeah, fuck that.' I think, trying to sit up again. The pain in my side is almost unbearable but I manage to drag my body up and lean against the cream colored wall behind me. I look around, scanning the room I now realize is a bedroom. Most of the bedrooms are overgrown and destroyed; taken back by nature. But this one is clean and comfortable.

There's a small, dark wooden dresser with a mirror in the corner to my right. It's missing a knob on one of the drawers and the edges of the mirror have gathered a bit of dust but, other than that, it looks untouched. A closet with two white double doors is built into the wall to my left. There's a desk with a chair and a little bookshelf next to it in front of me. The wood is light and slightly faded. A few books are placed on the shelf, the spines worn and tattered. The white bedroom door is open, giving me a view of a hallway and an entryway into what looks like a kitchen. The bed rests in the middle of the room but if it was moved just a bit to the left, I'd be able to see more.

What catches my attention is the window on the right wall. The sun shines through the paper thin, pale pink curtains. The warm white sheets under the navy blue comforter brush against my bare legs as I shift to get out of the bed and that's when I realize I'm only wearing a large grey t shirt, my black underwear and my lilac colored sports bra. I look around, trying to find where the hell my clothes are but I can't spot the jeans or burgundy tank top anywhere.

I panic more when I can't find my backpack, gun or switchblade and realize I'm in an unknown place completely unarmed. I go to search for my things but fall back onto the bed as soon as I try to sit up. I lean myself back against the wall and pull the comforter over my legs, feeling a bit cold. I grit my teeth at the pain in my side and lift the shirt to see a large white bandage with spots of blood seeping through. 'I'm completely fucked. These people could kill me at any minute.' I tell myself. I pull the shirt back down and lean back against the wall, groaning a bit. 'Fuck, brother. What have I gotten myself into?' I feel myself start to panic, heart beginning to pound, breaths becoming quick and shallow.

I'm trying to calm myself down, staring at the covered window when I hear a door open. I turn my head to the door, holding my breath. A young boy walks into the room quietly. He's got short black hair and scars on his face... From the corners of his mouth to his temples... Seraphite. He's carrying a medicine bottle and some water. He sees me looking at him and smiles, nodding at me as a greeting before turning to look back the way he came.

"Abby, she's awake!" 'Abby?' I think. 'Is that the doctor from before?' I hear a woman's voice respond with 'I know.' Boy, was I wrong. A woman walks in behind him, closing the door she had come through. I get one look at her and I feel like my stomach is doing backflips. 'Holy shit, she's beautiful.' Her long, golden hair is pulled back into a braid. Her skin is pale and dotted with freckles. She has more muscle than I could ever dream of gaining. And those eyes... I look away before she can catch me staring.

"Hey," Her voice is smooth and sweet like honey. It makes me look back to her instantly. She's smiling at me. Warm and welcoming. Her smile is pretty. I feel my face heat up a bit but I don't look away from her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got stabbed by a lot of glass and woke up with a stranger staring at me." I say with a joking smile. My throat is still a bit scratchy but my voice is back, for the most part. She laughs lightly, arms crossed over her chest. Her laugh sounds like sweet music. Abby and the boy walk into the bedroom, Abby sitting down on the bed beside my right leg, careful not to move me and risk hurting me more. The boy grabs the chair from the desk and pulls it over to sit in front of her. I tense a bit at his presence. I don't have the best history with Seraphites. Abby seems to notice my concern and starts talking to draw my attention back to her.

"I'm Abby and this is Lev." She gestures toward Lev who hands me a bottle of water and sets the pills on the dresser. I nod, giving him a silent thank you.

"I'm Madison." I say, running my index finger along the edge of the plastic bottle cap.

"Cute name." Abby compliments and I feel my face heat up again. The way her light red tank top and blue jeans hugs her strong figure makes it hard for me to not stare but I have to focus on my safety first. "Do people call you Maddy?" I look at her face again, her brown eyes looking straight into my pale blue pair.

"I suppose." I laugh a bit, remembering the nickname from when I was a kid. I take a small sip of the water Lev had given me, immediately grateful for the way it soothed my aching throat.

"Cool." Abby's lips are a soft tinge of pink. I scold myself for admiring her when I should be figuring out what my next move is.

Lev speaks up from beside me. "Why were you alone out there? Do you have any people?" I see Abby give him a stern look, silently scolding him for asking a question like that when I had just woken up. I don't say anything, not because of the question but because I'm in the same room as a Seraphite and he isn't trying to kill me. "I'm sorry." Lev says after a moment of silence. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"Oh, no. It's okay, honestly." I say quickly, giving him an assuring smile. "I just... I've never met a Seraphite who hasn't tried to kill me immediately." At that, Lev reaches to touch the scar on his left cheek and for a moment I think I've offended him but he just chuckles.

"I can see why you'd think that but I'm not a Seraphite. Not anymore, at least. Most of the Seraphites are gone." He explains. I relax a bit.

"Thank God for that." I sigh. "I seriously don't need to run into that group ever again."

"That goes for all of us." Abby cuts in, kicking Lev in the ankle lightly. I can see their brother- sister dynamic and it makes me even more sure that Lev is okay. If Abby trusts him, so can I. Abby looks me up and down before meeting my eyes again. I see something flash in her eyes for a split second before it disappears. "You should try to eat something. You've been out for a few days." My eyes widen at that.

"Days?! I thought it had only been a few hours!"

"Time tends to go by quickly when you're passed out." Abby laughs and my stomach fills with butterflies again at the sound. "Hey, Lev?" She turns to the boy. "You okay going down to the cafeteria and grabbing Maddy something?"

"Sure!" Lev grins, standing up and leaving the room. When the door he leaves through closes, Abby looks back to me.

"How are those stitches treating you?" I look to my side, lightly brushing my hand over it through the shirt.

"Could be worse." I shrug. It's better than being infected.

"Mind if I see?" Her question catches me off guard a bit but I don't have anything against it.

"Sure." I say. I lift the right side of the shirt up just to the end of my sports bra, revealing the bandages to Abby. I suddenly feel a bit exposed and what makes it worse is I'm exposed to this drop dead gorgeous girl who is focused on me. I jump slightly in shock when she delicately runs her fingers over the bandages.

"Sorry!" She says, pulling her hand back as though she's touched a hot flame. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay. You didn't hurt me." I tell her.

"Okay. I just forget my own strength sometimes." She laughs, blushing a little. She's cute when she's shy. "Makes me regret all the muscle."

"I think you look great." I say with a small burst of confidence. "And that muscle has probably saved your life more than a dozen times so that makes it even better." She laughs louder this time, her embarrassment fading away.

"Well, not to brag but they do come in handy. Y'know, saving lives and all." She moves to flex her arms before moving her focus back to the bandages, pressing on them lightly. I feel my heart rate speed up at the way her muscles tense. Her tough build perfectly compliments her kind personality and soft eyes. 'Oh, Brother. What am I gonna do about this girl?' "So. What Lev asked... how long have you been alone?" I swallow, not sure if I was ready to tell her about everything. I just met her.

"It's been me and my older brother for as long as I can remember. We were a team. Always looking out for each other." I say, the faint image of him being burned alive singed into my mind. "But he's been gone for a year or so now. I've been alone ever since." I choke back tears, refusing to cry.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Sounds like you guys were pretty close." She smiles at me with sympathy, pulling my shirt back down and reaching for my right hand. I let her grab it, feeling her squeeze it gently but firmly. Her hands are warm and soft.

"We were." I let out a breath. "He's gone now, though. So it doesn't matter." When it comes to the memory of my brother, I prefer to shut it out and forget about it. It doesn't stop the nightmares, though. The flames. The yelling that haunts my dreams. The smell of burning flesh.

"I lost my dad when I was fourteen." Abby says and I feel a pang of hurt for her. The fact that she had gone through something like that made me want to protect her from ever feeling that pain again. I have to keep myself from reaching over and hugging her, afraid to overstep my boundaries.

"It took a lot but I managed to get through it." Her tone is calm and almost relieved.

"What a fucked up world we live in, Abby." I say, giving her hand a small squeeze.

"Damn right, Maddy." How could someone be this wonderful? She jumps a little when the door opens and slams shut but doesn't let go of my hand until Lev comes into the bedroom with a small tin can and a plastic spoon. "Thanks, Lev." She says, taking the can and spoon from him. I feel my heart sink a little when her warm hand lets go of mine.

"Mhm," Lev nods, sitting himself cross-legged on the chair. "I thought that might be easier for you to eat." He says to me. I smile at his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Lev." I say and I see his smile grow wider. Abby hands me the can and I read the worn label. 'Fruit Cocktail'. I pull on the tab but I don't have enough strength to open the can and my hands are a little shaky. This frustrates me because it shows that my injury did more damage than I thought. "Dammit." I groan.

"Hey, take it easy." Abby says in a soft tone, reaching for the can. I let her take it back. "You got pretty fucked up back there. I'm surprised you were able to sit up on your own." She says with a playful tone, opening the can, grabbing the spoon and sticking it into the container of fruit.

"Alright." I roll my eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hide my grin. "What, are you gonna try to feed me now, too?" Abby chuckles, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of me. I can see Lev shaking his head at us with a smile, playing with the buttons on his coat.

"Try?" Abby snorts playfully. "Use that tone and I'll do more than try."

"Whatever you say." I giggle and I see that flash of emotion in her eyes again. What was it? Why does it feel like I've known her forever? She hands me the can again and I slowly start eating. "So who do I have to thank for saving my life?"

Abby rubs the back of her neck as she looks at me, her grin turning sheepish. A sign of nervousness.

"Us, I guess." Lev answers. "We were the ones who found you."

"Is that why you guys came to check on me? Have you been doing that since I got here?"

"Yeah. Abby carried you back to our truck and got you to the infirmary. She stayed with you while you got patched up but I wasn't allowed in the room so she let me set up the apartment for you." As Lev explains, the urge to hug the two of them, especially Abby, grows stronger. But I don't want to make them uncomfortable.

"Well, thank you." I say to him before looking at Abby. Her shy gaze meets mine and her face heats up a bit. "Thank you both."

It's quiet for a minute as my eyes stay focused on Abby's. She coughs a bit before standing up, patting my knee. "Okay, you need to eat and rest so I won't have to open more cans for you. Those pain meds work great but they'll make you exhausted. I'll come check on you in a bit." I nod, watching as she stretches a bit. "C'mon, Lev." Lev stands up, putting the chair back before following Abby to the door. "See you soon." She smiles at me, nudging Lev toward the front door. I wave at the two of them, already missing their presence.

"You like her, don't you?" I hear Lev ask and my heartbeat speeds up.

"I- ye- okay, go! You're on dish duty tonight!" Their voices fade as they walk away. I want to laugh at Abby's reaction but it fills me with too much joy for me to comprehend. 'She might feel the same!'

Abby was right, those pain meds do make you exhausted, because I fall asleep and by the time I wake up, Abby is back. She's beside me again, brushing a bit of stray hair out of my face with her fingers. She smiles softly at me when she sees me blink away the sleepiness in my eyes.

"Hi." I manage to mumble, taking in the sight of this stunning person in front of me.

"Hi." She responds, quietly. "Did you sleep okay?" I nod, attempting to sit up. Abby notices my struggle and moves to place her hand on my back, gently guiding me forward as though she's afraid she'll break me if she isn't careful. "I brought you some new clothes." She says. "Figured you'd wanna get cleaned up."

"Definitely." I respond with a sigh. "I probably smell like garbage." Abby laughs.

"Nah." She says. "More like blood, sweat and dirt." She teases.

"Oh, wow. Very precise." I joke, laughing with her.

"Well, lucky for you, we have running water." She nudges my right shoulder lightly. Why is she so kind to me? Suddenly, I realize I'm missing something.

"My backpack?" I question, my eyebrows raised in slight worry.

"Oh, right!" Abby stands, leaving the room for a moment and returning with my brown leather backpack. I reach out, silently asking her to hand it to me and she does, sitting back down in her spot. I frantically dig through the bag, seeing my knife, gun and small journal before pulling out a silver chain with a pendant attached. I grip it tightly, letting out a breath of relief as I hold it to my heart. "What is it?" Abby asks, curiously. I show her the pendant.

"It was my brother's." I say, smiling at the small, silver Firefly pendant.

"Your brother was a Firefly?" She asks. I shake my head.

"No. Our father was in Salt Lake before he and my mother decided to leave the group. He and my mom died when I was only a few weeks old. My brother was five. He used to wear it. Hell, he never took the thing off. Said he was gonna join the Fireflies again someday." My smile falters a bit, remembering his shaky hand pressing the pendant into my palm. That was the last time I saw him smile.

"My dad and I were Fireflies." Abby says, knowingly drawing me out of my thoughts. "He was a doctor at St. Mary's." So, our parents probably knew each other.

"Well, I guess you're a Firefly again." I say with a small tinge of happiness.

"Yeah." She chuckles. "And, if you want... you can stay and be a Firefly, too?" It's more of a question than a statement.

I think it over, running my finger along the metal firefly. "I'd like that." I say, nodding at her. I see her eyes brighten and her smile grow a bit, causing mine to grow, too.

"I'm glad." She says, simply. I can tell she's holding back some of her joy but the way she lights up doesn't go unnoticed by me. "C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up." I turn to swing my legs off the bed, letting my feet touch the cold, wooden floor. Abby moves to stand in front of me, bending down a bit to grab my hands. I let her pull me up, my legs shaking a bit. I bite my tongue, trying not to cry out in pain. 'Fuck, my side is killing me!'

"Are you okay?" Abby asks, clearly sensing my discomfort. I grab her forearms, feeling her muscles tense as she helps me stand up straight as carefully as she can. She's a few inches taller than me so I have to look up a bit to meet her eyes. They're filled with worry. The freckles on her face look like little stars. "You want me to carry you?"

"It's okay." I breathe. "I've got this." As much as I want to be held in her strong arms, I have to do everything I can to get my strength back. I begin walking towards the bedroom door, letting Abby move to place her left hand on my lower back for support. I cling to her right arm as she slowly guides me out of the bedroom and into the hallway. I look around, noticing the red front door, the little kitchen with the white, slightly chipped cupboards, the marble counters and oak stools, the living room with the grey couch and matching armchair, the glass coffee table sitting on a small, pale green rug and the medium sized television resting on a black stand. The whole place looks like something out of a catalog I had found while my brother and I were holed up in a store once.

"This way." Abby says quietly, walking me to a white door to the left, just before the front door. She moves her left hand from my back to turn the silver handle and push the door open before quickly placing it back. The bathroom's cold, tile floor makes me shiver slightly as I tread forward carefully. I sit down on the lid of the toilet, only managing with Abby's help, and let out a small groan. I instantly notice how close her face is to mine, cheeks almost touching as she makes sure I'm situated.

She handles me as if I'm a fragile porcelain doll. I feel her hot breath on my face as she lets go and stands up straight. I barely understand her as she asks if I need help getting undressed, too caught up in my thoughts. I just look up and shake my head and she nods, a stunning smile on her face as she turns away to start the shower, giving me as much privacy as she can. I peel the shirt off my body, goosebumps forming on my exposed skin. The sight of Abby crouched by the bathtub, steam traveling around her and the light on the ceiling acting as a spotlight distracts me from the stabbing feeling above my right hip. She looks angelic. I wish I could take a picture of her in this moment. I manage to strip myself of my last bit of clothing, leaving me fully exposed and a bit anxious. I instinctively cross my hands over my breasts. I've never been very confident in my appearance and being in front of a beautiful girl that I've only met today is not the most comfortable feeling in the world. My ash blonde hair, pale skin, icy blue eyes and barely toned build are nothing compared to Abby's perfectly sculpted figure. She looks like a goddess. It makes me almost hate my body even more, riddled with a hint of jealousy.

"Okay," She sighs, standing up and turning around to look at me. I instantly feel her eyes on me but they aren't glaring at my body. She looks at my face. Only at my face. She never makes a move to look at my body, keeping her gaze only on my flushed cheeks, giving a small smile that immediately brings me comfort. I notice her cheeks slowly growing red as I remember what Lev had asked her. 'Does she feel the same?' Abby takes my hand, keeping her focus on my eyes, pulling me to my feet. I stumble forward a bit, letting out an involuntary whimper. Abby puts an arm out in front of me, the other wrapping around my shoulders as she helps me regain my balance.

"I've got you." She says in a voice that makes me melt. I notice a bit of panic in her eyes and I nod, letting her know I'm okay. She makes sure I'm able to lean against the wall and steps out to grab the clothes she had brought. The warm water soothes my aching muscles. As I wash all of the dirt and filth, I try to imagine what my brother would say about the way I stare at Abby. He would've teased me about her. He would've told me to make the first move, knowing I never could. I don't even know if Abby likes me. The way she looks at me can't be just friendly, can it?

A few minutes later, Abby comes back in, setting the change of clothes on the bathroom counter. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good." I respond. I lean down to shut the water off but the stitches only let me get so far. Eventually I give up, annoyed at how incapable I am. "Shit. Abby, can you turn the shower off please?"

Abby chuckles at my frustration. "Hang on." I watch her hand peek through the blue shower curtain and turn the shower off before it disappears again. She slowly opens the curtain, handing me a soft, purple bath towel. I wrap it around me before I can get goosebumps. I put on a clean outfit; pastel purple underwear, a light gray and black sports bra, a black tee shirt and, with some help from Abby, I manage to wiggle into a pair of dark red sweatpants. She helps me go out into the living room, sitting beside me on the surprisingly comfy couch."I figured pyjamas were the more comfortable option. There are some day clothes hanging in your closet for when you're ready to get out of your little apartment. Oh, and I've gotta say, your black combat boots are seriously awesome." I smile at her, drying my hair with the towel.

"Thanks." I smile, grateful for everything Abby has done for me. "And they're pretty damn nice."

"Ever crushed an infected's skull with them?" She asks with a playful grin.

"Actually, a few times." I start. "One time, a runner's eyeballs squeezed out of it's skull!"

"Oh, gross!" Abby snorts, kicking off her worn gray sneakers and sitting cross legged, body turned towards me.

"Yeah." I say, faking a frown. "Poor dude will never model again." We both laugh. I look to the far wall, out the big bay window that had one long, green curtain pulled to the side and held with twine. The sun is setting, painting the sky in orange and yellow hues. The ocean rests below, blending with the scenery.

"Nice view, huh?" Abby's voice draws my attention back to her. I notice her eyes look me up and down quickly as she bites her lip. 'Did I just see that right?'

"It is." My voice is soft. I feel completely calm, sitting here beside Abby. I could sit here with her forever. Forget about the horrors that lie outside.

"Can I change your bandage?" She's hesitant with her question, knowing it's going to hurt me. I give her a nod, letting her know I fully trust her. She picks up on my silent message. "Okay. Let me grab a few things." Abby turns on the living room light and disappears into the bathroom for a minute before coming back out with a med kit. "Lie back." Her voice is commanding but gentle. I do as she says, shifting to lay on the couch. She kneels beside me on the floor, putting the med kit on the coffee table behind her. I fidget with my fingers as she lifts my shirt up, not quite sure what to do. She's so careful, slowly removing the bandages and gauze, revealing the wound that brought me to her in the first place. The stitches look almost perfect but there will still be evidence of it when it heals.

"That's gonna leave a nasty scar." I mumble, noticing her pouring hydrogen peroxide onto a white cloth.

"It's gonna look super cool, though. Makes you look like a total badass." She smiles at me for a second before looking at the cloth in her hands, then at my wound. "So... this is gonna suck." Her smile turns into one of pity.

"Yeah, but it's gotta get done." I mumble. She nods, pausing for a moment. As soon as she presses the cloth to my side, my back arches off the couch and I hiss in pain, clenching my eyes shut.

I feel Abby grab my hand and I squeeze hers tightly, choking back a small scream. "Hey, look at me, Maddy." I look at her face. She's calm but clearly not enjoying the pain she's inflicting. She keeps her cool, looking at me with those big, hazel eyes. Her gaze instantly brings me comfort. "Just focus on me, okay?" I nod, keeping my eyes on her. "Just listen to my voice. I'll be done soon, I promise. But I need you to stay still." When she touches the cloth to my skin once more, I tense, willing myself to stay put for her. She lets me squeeze her hand as hard as I need, probably not even bothered by it.

It's quiet for a few seconds before Abby speaks again. "I'm scared of heights." She says, simply. "Lev and I had to walk on these super high, narrow bridges once. I'm talking skyscraper high! I thought I was gonna die right on that bridge. I felt dizzy, couldn't breathe properly. But Lev, he just kept walking like he was on solid ground. He kept trying to get me to find my true strength or something like that." She laughs a little. I watch the way her lips curve into a small smile and, for a moment, I think about what it'd be like to kiss them. "Well, shit went to hell when my vision started getting blurry and I slipped. I was just dangling there and I swear I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Lev tried to pull me up but we both fell and smashed into this glass skylight. We landed in a pool that was underneath us, thank fuck. So, we both swim out of the pool and I'm just laying there gasping for air and Lev stands up beside me and he's immediately ready to keep moving. As if we didn't just almost fall to our deaths." I smile at her story, picturing Lev babying her. I don't even notice her set the cloth down and reach for gauze and bandages until she let go of my hand.

"I'm scared of the ocean." I laugh at my own stupid fear. Abby lets out a small chuckle.

"So is Lev." She grins. "Why are you scared of it?"

"I can't swim." I smile at her look of disbelief.

"You seriously can't swim?" She raises a brow, briefly pausing to look at me.

"Yep." I confirm, slightly embarrassed.

"How the hell do you not know how to swim?"

"I never got a chance to learn." I shrug. She goes back to applying the thick cloth bandages.

"Well, I guess we'll have to teach you how to swim." She stands up, carrying the med kit back to the bathroom and I move to sit up on the couch, slouching against the arm of the surprisingly comfortable furniture. I can't help but stare when she goes into the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator and goes to pull out a couple water bottles, giving me a perfect view of her backside. I bite my lip and look away. Silently scolding myself for staring. "Wanna watch a movie?" She asks, leaning in the entryway of the kitchen that's connected to the living room.

"Sure." I say. "But what about Lev?" Abby sets down the water bottles and a bottle of pain killers on the coffee table before she goes over to the TV stand, crouching down to open a small cupboard and pulling out a few DVD cases.

"He's staying the night at a friend's house." She says, looking through the DVDs. "I use the word friend lightly because I'm pretty sure Lev has a crush on him but he won't admit it." She gossips.

"Is Lev gay?" I ask, not meaning to sound rude.

"Yeah. He's also transgender." She explains. "Why? Is that an issue?" Her tone becomes defensive and she glares at me over her shoulder.

"Why would it be?" Her gaze softens at my words. "Hell, I'm not straight either." At that, she lights up just slightly but enough for me to notice. "Men are okay. Prefer women, though." I explain, simply.

"I'm with you on that." And at that, I light up. Abby smiles at me, turning on the TV and putting a DVD into the player. She grabs the remote, going to turn off the light before sitting back down on the couch. As she starts the movie, I contemplate moving to sit closer to her but I decide against it. I picture what it would be like to have her lips pressed against mine, her hands tangled in my hair, my arms wrapped around her neck, her body so close to mine.

"Here." Abby says and I jump a bit. She just smiles and I know she noticed but she doesn't point it out. Instead, she hands me two painkillers and a water. I thank her, taking them and turning my attention to the movie, letting myself get completely sucked into the story of this random popular schoolgirl character. Thoughts of Abby loom in the back of my mind.

Halfway through the movie, I fall asleep. When I wake up again, Abby is gone and I'm in my bed, wrapped up in the warm blankets, the daylight shining through the window. 'This bitch carried me to bed!'

It's been many months since I've joined the Fireflies. I adjusted rather quickly and fit in well with the others. The sparks between Abby and I are only growing stronger and our feelings for each other are obvious to everyone. Everyone including Lev who has become like a younger brother to me.

"Seriously!" Lev sits at the kitchen counter, working on a drawing of a horse while I do dishes. "You need to tell her! She already knows! Everyone does!" He gestures towards the front door for emphasis. I laugh at him, placing another dish into the drying rack.

"I can't just go up to her and say 'Hey, Abby. I love you and I really, really want you to be mine so we can be a family and grow old together.'. It's not that easy!" Lev sighs, grinning at me.

"Yeah, it is that easy."

"Oh really?" I turn to him, raising my brow in a pointed look. "Then how come you haven't told that boy you like him?" His face turns beat red and he looks back to his drawing, practicing his shading skills. "That's what I thought." I chuckle at his silence. I look out the living room window behind me to see the sun slowly going down. The sky will be painted with vibrant orange soon. "Actually, she should be back by now." My heart sinks a little at the thought of something happening to Abby while she's out on a run.

"She'll be back soon." Lev reassures. I just bite my lip, hoping everything is okay.

I really start to worry when the sun is almost gone and Abby still isn't back. I fidget with my fingers while I sit on the couch beside Lev, trying to distract myself with whatever movie Lev put on. My panic doesn't go unnoticed by Lev.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "She's tough, Maddy." He reasons. "She's gonna be back soon and you're both gonna look at each other with that same lovestruck face you guys always do." I roll my eyes at his last comment. He isn't wrong, though. About half an hour later, there's a knock on the door.

"Maddy? It's me!" I let out a breath of relief at the sound of Abby's voice, jumping up to greet her. She opens the door, barely having enough time to close it behind her before I run over and wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight hug. She stumbles back a bit before wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me close. "Hey." She chuckles. I bury my face in her neck, the material of her light jacket brushing against my right cheek.

"How was the run?" I ask. I want to be angry at her for being late and making me worry but all I can feel is relief that she's here and okay.

"Good." She says, shuffling her backpack off her shoulders when I pull away to examine her for any wounds. Thankfully, I find none. "Sorry I'm late. The damn truck kept stalling and Aaron dropped a crate of supplies at the gate."

"That guy's such a ditz." I laugh. Abby shakes her head, laughing with me as I take her hand and pull her into the living room. "I'm glad I'm going with you next time. I'm always worried he's gonna get you killed."

"Hey, Abby." Lev turns away from the movie to smile at her. He looks at me with a smirk. "I told you she was okay." I roll my eyes at him.

"Hey, goober." Abby grins at him, walking over to ruffle his hair, not letting go of my hand. "Good day?" I release Abby's hand, shaking her shoulder lightly and going into the kitchen to pick up Lev's drawing stuff. Normally, I'd make him clean up after himself but I decide to leave him be.

"Yeah!" Lev's voice is cheerful as he answers Abby. "We had spaghetti for dinner and Maddy let me help her make sauce with some tomatoes from the garden instead of trying to find a jar!"

"That sounds fun! Did you help or did you make a mess of her kitchen?" God, she can be such a mom.

"A bit of both." I chuckle, handing Lev his art book and pencils. "Made you a plate, too. Figured you'd forget to eat and go straight to bed again." I cross my arms, looking at Abby with a knowing smile. She knows I don't like when she forgets to eat.

"Thanks, Mads. I really appreciate it." I just give a simple nod, letting my arms drop to my side. I wish I could kiss her. She lets out a deep breath. "C'mon, Lev. It's getting late."

"Okay." Lev says quietly, turning off the TV and standing up beside Abby. I go to grab the plate of spaghetti from the kitchen, making sure the plastic wrap is secured around the plate.

"Here." I hand Lev the plate since he's put his stuff in Abby's backpack and she's busy pulling the straps over her shoulders. "Make sure she actually eats for me, okay?" I grin, playfully.

"Promise." He smiles back.

"Oh my God, can you both stop babying me?" Abby says with an annoyed tone.

"Never." I tease, reaching up to wrap my arms around her neck once more. I close my eyes, feeling the warmth radiating off her skin as she hugs back. "But seriously." I mumble, lips brushing against her freckled cheek. "Promise me you'll remember to eat?"

I feel Abby nod. "I promise." I hum in approval, letting her go and looking at her flushed face. She opens the front door, moving so Lev can leave first.

"Bye, Maddy." Lev says, walking past us and out the door.

"Bye, kiddo." I say back. "Goodnight." I say softy to Abby. She rubs the back of her neck.

"Goodnight." Abby mutters, closing the door behind her as she leaves. I stare for a minute at the door, contemplating whether I should run after her or not. But I just turn away and decide to get ready for bed.

His face. His screams. I'm in a nightmare and I can't wake up. I want to reach out for him. I want to save him. But I know I can't leave my hiding spot or the Seraphites will find me. He yells and swears, clothes quickly catching fire. I can only sit and watch as his body hangs there, becoming charred. Unrecognizable. I have to help him! I can't move! Please, no! He cries out for me, yelling 'why won't you help me?!' and 'You coward!'. Things my brother would never actually say. But it all feels so real.

I sit up quickly, gasping for air as I look around my bedroom for flames. It's dark, the only light coming from the window. I can't get the image of him out of my head. 'Oh, brother.' I think, tears pouring down my face. 'I wish you were here.' I try to lay back down and go to sleep but I can only sit there, paralyzed. I let out a small sob, trying to think of what to do. Abby. I need Abby.

Before I can think, I'm putting my jacket on over my pyjamas and lacing up my combat boots. I leave my dark apartment and head down the stairwell to Abby's. I let myself mindlessly wander there, choking on sobs. When I get to her door, I knock lightly and instantly feel bad. What if I woke her or Lev? Before I can turn back, the door opens. Abby stands there in a pair of black sweatpants and a gray t shirt. Her face instantly contorts with worry when she sees my red eyes and puffy cheeks.

"Maddy?" She steps forward, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?" I can't stop myself from letting out another sob, more tears falling down my face mercilessly. She wraps her arms around me but I can't find the strength to hug her back.

"I'm sorry." I whimper into her shoulder. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay. You didn't wake me, Mads." She reassures me. "I was reading. Here, come inside." She gently pulls me inside, closing the front door. "Wanna tell me what happened?" She doesn't try to pressure me. She just waits for me to speak, rubbing my back.

"I had a nightmare." I say, feeling childish. "About my brother. I just... I needed you." I mumble the last bit, face heating up.

Abby takes my hand, pulling me with her. "C'mon. Let's go to bed." I let her guide me into her bedroom, tugging off my jacket and boots before crawling onto her bed. She closes the door and turns off the light before laying down beside me. She pulls the comforter over us and I shift to lay my head on her chest, curling into her left side. She drapes her right arm over my waist and runs her fingers through my hair with her other hand. I cling to her shirt, my tears drying on my cheeks.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, feeling like a burden.

"You have nothing to apologize for." Abby says. Without thinking, I shift to wrap my legs with hers, begging to be closer to her, to feel her presence as she slowly brings me back to reality. "What happened to your brother? I mean... Sorry. You don't have to answer."

"The Seraphites caught him." I swallow the lump in my throat. "They, um... they burned him. I had to watch."

"I'm so sorry, Maddy." I shake my head, letting her know it's okay.

"His name was Kai." I say. "He used to call me Dandelion because my mom said I made wishes come true." I laugh, quietly.

"Dandelion." Abby ponders the nickname. "It suits you."

"Abby?" I shift to look at her, my face hovering above hers. Her eyes widen a bit, flickering from my lips to my eyes and I catch myself doing the same to her.

"Hmm?" I place my left hand on her cheek, rubbing it softly with my thumb.

"I love you." I say. Before I can process anything, Abby pushes my head forward, pressing our lips together. The kiss is long, needy and full of love. Our eyes close. Her lips are warm and sweet. Soft. We don't pull away till our lungs are burning, pleading for air.

"I love you, too." She whispers, tracing my bottom lip with the pad of her thumb. I give her a small, tired smile, pecking her lips once more before resting my head back on her chest. Her arms are around me once more and I feel safe. At home. This is where I belong. With her and Lev. "Goodnight, Dandelion."

So, this is a thing now! I hope you guys liked it and, if not, I'm sorry lol. Here's a photo of me cause idk how to end this Author's Note

[avasharpe]

Sugar and Salt

Chapter: Eight of Ten

Summary: The Lance-Sharpe household and Sara’s belly is getting bigger. Ava and Gary make room for Sara, Sin, and the new baby and the rest of their family learns about their secret.

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow.

Relationship: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe and Amaya Jiwe/Zari Tomaz.

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Sin Lance, Gary Green, Amaya Jiwe, Leonard Snart, Quentin Lance, Dinah Lance, Dot Heyward, Nate Heyward, Hank Heyward, and Kendra Saunders.

Chapter Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Bakery and Coffee Shop, Mutual Pining, Non-binary character, Trans Character, Fake Marriage, But Real Feelings, Food.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

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“Hey,” Ava said as she swung open the door to greet Sara and Sin. Sin gave her a wave before running off to find Gary and Sara let out of breath as she stepped past her into the house.

“We have got to tell the kids today,” Sara said, spinning around to look at her as Ava closed the door.

“What? I thought we agreed on next week. I know we’re into the second trimester now, but we just have one more week left of school and then we’re in the clear,” Ava said, crossing her arms as they stood in the hallway.

“Well, we’re going to have a hard time keeping this from them,” Sara said as she pulled up the black blouse that hung off her frame to reveal her baby belly, not a bump, a full belly, that rounded out from under her ribs.

“Your showing!” Ava instantly smiled as she walked up and put her hand on Sara’s belly. 

“Yeah,” Sara said, breaking out into a smile as well. “I noticed that I was showing last week, but since then, they’ve just gotten bigger.”

“Yeah, that’s partly because it’s your second,” Ava said, still marveling at their baby.

“I never got this big until I was about fifteen weeks along with Sin. Hey, do you still have that bouillon chicken base from the soup you made last weekend?” Sara asked, turning away and already heading towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s in the fridge,” Ava said, dutifully following her. “Well Gary was bigger than Sin so this one is bound to be bigger too, but hopefully not by much.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I can’t believe he was over nine pounds, I got so big with Sin and she was only seven pounds. I can’t imagine how big I’m going to get with this one, and there is no way I’m pushing out a nine pound baby.”

Sara opened the fridge and started rifling around as Ava smiled down at her belly. It was obviously there and was definitely noticeable as Sara had a flat stomach before. 

Sara found the jar of bouillon and turned around to grab a spoon from the drawer. She spun off the top and sank down to sit on the floor up against the cabinets. Then she grabbed a large spoonful from the jar, stuck it into her mouth, and sighed in content. Ava made a face, not knowing how Sara could eat the salty chicken flavored seasoning, but also knew how crazy pregnancy cravings could be. 

“How are you doing Sara?”

Sara sighed and looked up at her. “I’m pregnant.”

“I know,” Ava gave her a little smile and sat down next to her on the floor. “Anything else?”

“Well, I’m not throwing up anymore and now I eat everything in sight, but then I get heartburn. I’m getting big and I’m so hormonal. I bought a pair of compression socks because I’ve got Varicose veins,” Sara lamented as she swirled her spoon around the jar. “And I’m dizzy and I keep forgetting stuff and things, and with you and me and the kids. It’s just a lot right now.”

Ava put her arm around Sara’s shoulders. “Whatever you need right now, I’m here for you. I’ll get you a whole truckload of tums and those compression socks that are super cute. I’ll keep you steady, I’ll write you notes and set reminders, and I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Sara gave her a small smile and leaned her head against Ava’s shoulder. They sat against the kitchen cabinets until Sara’s ass started hurting. Ava pulled Sara into her lap and wrapped her arms around Sara’s waist, holding on to her as Sara closed her eyes. Ava thought she would fall asleep until Sara turned and looked up at her.

“I just can’t keep this a secret from the kids anymore. I hate lying to Sin about why I’ve been acting differently and why I’m sick. This morning, they asked me why my stomach was so big and I just froze. I wanted so badly to tell them the truth, but I didn’t. Instead, Laurel just told them that it was because I’ve been eating too much ice cream. I don’t know, I just want everything to be settled. I want us to be a family and I just, I don’t know.” 

As Sara spoke she cradled her belly and Ava put a hand over hers. “Also the nesting instincts have kicked in early and they are strong! I got out Sin’s old clothes, the bassinet, I even bought diapers, and I bought a set of mountain pictures to hang in the nursery. So I hope you like them because that’s our theme.”

Ava listened as Sara lamented to her and waited until she was sure Sara was done speaking. “I get it. I also kind of got a little carried away when I was cleaning out the spare room this weekend.”

“You got excited,” Sara said with a knowing smile.

Ava smiled down at her and their wonderful little surprise. She had forgotten how exciting it was to have a baby and she had gotten a bit swept up in putting together the baby’s room the past few days. She had brought out all of Gary’s old baby things into the new baby’s room. 

“Can I see it?” Sara asked, setting her snack down.

“Of course and I have a surprise to show you as well,” Ava said, getting up and holding out her hand to Sara who rejected it. 

With one hand on the counter and the other cradling her belly, Sara got up by herself. “I’m not helpless yet.”

“I can’t imagine you ever being helpless.”

Sara just smiled at her and put the chicken bouillon away. Ava made a mental note to break out a new one before she started on dinner that night. She led Sara up the stairs and down the hall. They passed Gary’s room and peeked in on him and Sin setting up a Lego City. 

When they got to the door, Ava had Sara close her eyes. Ava put an arm around her waist and led her into the middle of the room, where Sara could get a view of everything.

“Okay, open them.”

Sara opened her eyes and looked around the room. Ava had bought out the old rocker and placed it in the corner, there was a little bookshelf, and a bare white crib was up against the wall. She had opened a few boxes of old baby clothes and the few toys that she had and put them on the shelf. It looked like the beginnings of a nursery and the photo of all four of them that hung above the crib brought it all to life. 

The photo was one that Ava had captured rather spontaneously while the four of them were at the park last weekend. Both Gary and Sin smiled up at the camera as Ava and Sara stood behind them. They each had one hand on each kid’s shoulders and one hand on Sara’s belly. Sara walked up to it and put her hand over her mouth and Ava could see the tears welling in her eyes.

Ava came up behind her and put her arms around Sara’s waist. She pulled her blouse and put her hands on her belly, cradling it. Sara’s belly was just big enough to fit in both of her hands. 

“It’s us as a family, all five of us.” 

“Yeah,” Sara whispered as she stared up at the photo.

They stayed like that, staring up at the picture, and Sara put her own hands over Ava’s. They had only just agreed a few weeks ago that Sara and Sin would move in with her and Gary before fall. Ava had also cleared out the other guest bedroom for Sin and made space for Sara in her room. The kids already knew that they were dating and the four of them were all getting along better than they could have imagined. 

“Hey Ava, can Gary and I go jump on the trampoline?” Sin called out as they came barreling down the hallway and into the room with Gary behind them.

Ava quickly removed her hands from Sara’s belly, but Sara’s sweater stayed up, leaving the very evident bump. There was no hiding it. With all of the baby clothes, the crib, and Sara’s belly, it was obvious. 

“What’s all this?” Sin asked, looking around the room and then over at them. 

“Yeah, Mama?” Gary said, stepping into the room and picking up one of the toys on the shelf. “Why do you have all this baby stuff?” 

Sara looked over at Ava and Ava looked back at her. “Sin, Gary, we have something to tell you.”

……………………………………………………………………

Sara sat down on the coffee table in the living room with Ava next to her. She took a deep breath and thought about what to say. Ava’s knees bounced and Sara put a hand on her knee, soothing her. Ava glanced over at her and Sara gave her a reassuring smile, hiding her own nerves. 

“Gary, Sin,” Sara started, unsure how to break the news to them. She had just blurted it out to Ava, but she didn’t want to shock them.

Ava looked over at her and squeezed her hand. Sara nodded and took a deep breath with her as they turned back to the kids.

“You two know that Sara and I were dating before we told you guys about us. We wanted to make things work out between us so that we knew for sure we could all be together,” Ava said, as she talked in a steady clear voice.  “But that’s also because we’re going to have a baby, and you two are getting a new baby sibling. Since we’re having a baby, things are going to change around here.”

Ava explained it so well and Sara just watched her talk. She had this whole big speech that she had more or less come up with on the spot, and it was perfect. Sin and Gary seemed to take things in strides and nodded along at certain parts, but looked confused at others, so Sara jumped in and added to Ava’s explanation. They both talked together and parented together for the first time. It came so naturally to them and Sara took a second to smile over at Ava. They were officially a team, and soon they’d be a family. 

“So, because the baby needs both of its Mom’s, we need to live together when the baby comes in December. It wouldn’t be right away, and we’ll see how it goes. We want to do this because if we live together, we can take care of the baby and you and Gary. You both will get the same amount of time with your new sibling and you can get some special time with each one of us. We don’t want either of you to feel left out.” Sara explained to them as she put a hand on her belly now that she could without worrying about what Sin or Gary would think.

The kids seemed to be in a bit of shock as they just sat and looked up at both of them with different expressions. Sara watched each of them process it at different rates, before Gary smiled widely, while Sin still processed it. 

“A baby?” Gary asked as he wiggled with excitement.

“Yeah, bud a baby,” Ava said, with a nod that matched his excitement. 

“Wait, so we have to move in with Ava and Gary?” Sin asked, throwing out their hands. 

“It wouldn’t be right away, probably in a couple of months, but I’m telling you now because I want to know if it would be okay with you?” Sara leaned forward to hold Sin’s hands. 

“Would I have to share a room with Gary or the baby?”

“No, we have enough bedrooms so there’s one for you too. I actually cleaned it out and was wondering if you wanted to pick out a color for it?” Ava added, looking over at Sara briefly.

Sara nodded and they both looked back at Sin who was doing some more thinking. 

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay, honey,” Sara said, giving their hands an extra squeeze. “We can try it out and see how it goes okay?”

Sin nodded and sat back against the couch. 

“How did the baby get in your tummy?” Gary asked, his question like a record scratching.

“Did you have sex?” Sin asked, Sara had given them the sex talk, along with the period and babies talk a couple of months ago.

“What’s sex?”

Ava looked over at her with wide eyes and Sara met Ava’s anxious expression with a shrug. Sin was old enough for the talk and Sara had told them that it was an adult act. But, she was never one to beat around the bush when it came to how bodies worked. 

“It’s a grown-up thing,” Ava said as she struggled to find the words to explain it. 

“Like kissing?” Gary asked, tilting his head as his eyebrows knitted together. 

“Yes,” Ava said, smiling as she relaxed, leaving her explanation at that.

“No,” Sara interrupted, she could tell where this was going and watched as Sin and Garry got more and more confused. “Do you remember when I said that not every parent wanted their kids to know about it until they were ready?”

“Yeah,” Sin said with a nod, seeming to understand it more. “We were talking about delaying puberty hormones for me too.”

“Mama you take hormones because you used to be a boy,” Gary said, the look of confusion was gone and he seemed to be happy to understand what they were talking about.

“That's right,” Ava said, reaching over to grasp Sara’s hand and smiling as she whispered ‘thank you,’ to her. Sara nodded and they turned back to the kids together as Ava spoke. “I'm transgender which means that I take hormones to help me feel more like a girl.”

“But that still doesn't explain why the baby is in Sara's tummy?” Gary said, with a shrug. 

Sara and Ava smiled and Sara pulled up her shirt and pointed to her baby bump. “The baby is growing in my uterus, here. Right now the baby is still very small, about the size of a pear. They need to be inside me to grow. Like how a plant doesn't come out of the ground until it's ready, the baby won't come out of my uterus until they grow big enough to live outside of me.”

“Oh,” both kids said as they sat back, seeming content with everything Sara and Ava had said. 

Sara looked over at Ava and Ava nodded at her. They both let out a sigh of relief, having done the hard part of all of this. 

“Do you guys have any more questions?”

“What’s sex?” 

“I’ll tell you later Gary,” Ava quickly said, silencing everyone including Sara with a look.

Sara sighed and leaned forward towards Sin. “Do you have any questions kiddo?”

“No, I think I get it.”

“Good.”

“That’s great,” Ava said, clapping her hands together. “But remember the baby is still a secret, so we’re not going to tell anyone right away.”

“But Auntie Laurel knows, so it’s okay to talk to her about this,” Sara added as Ava looked over at her surprised. “She fingered it out when I threw out her candle.”

“Wait, so is Sin going to be my sibling?”

“Kind of, if you want them to be,” Ava said, with a smile, and Sara could see how happy she was that their family was coming together.

“They can be your sibling like the baby or you could call them your Nibbling like Aunt Laurel calls you her Niblett,” Sara offered Gary the options as he smiled.

“Like a chicken nugget?” Gary asked with a giggle.

“I mean, not really,” Sara said, trying to think of a better way to explain it to him, but Gary and Sin broke out into giggles and fell back onto the couch.

“Gary I’m your nugget. Bak bak.”

“Well, then I’m going to eat you!” Gary declared, opening his mouth wide and pretending to bite at the air above Sin. 

“Bak bak.” 

“Nom nom.”

Ava looked mortified, but Sara couldn’t help but laugh as well. She got up and joined them on the couch, laughing and playing alone, by clucking at Sin. Ava let her embarrassment go and sat next to Sin, joining in on the fun. Sin would bak and Gary would open his mouth to bite the air and even Sara joined in with a cock-a-doodle-doo and Ava pretended to bite at Sin and Sara. 

The giggles seemed to never end because as soon as things settled down, one of them would start it all over again. Eventually, they sat down together. Sin leaned against Ava at one end of the couch and Ava put her arm around them. Sara laid down on the other end and Gary crawled over to lay next to her and put his hand on her belly. 

“Hi baby, I’m your brother Gary and I love you,” Gary said, leaning down to kiss her belly.

Sara couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down her cheeks and Ava looked up at her and rubbed her leg. She put one hand on Gary’s head and reached out to hold Sin’s hand as well. 

“The baby and I love you too Gary,” Sara whispered to him. “And Sin, we love you, and we love you too Ava.”

Ava paused and tears collected in her eyes too. It was the first time Sara had said that she loved her and Sara didn’t just say it to her, she said it to Gary too. It was all that Ava could have ever wanted.

“I love you too, and I love you Sin and you too Gary,” Ava said, never taking her eyes off of Sara, but reaching out to give both of the kid’s hands a little squeeze.

“Mama, you didn’t say I love you to the baby,” Gary said, sitting up and looking pointedly over at her. 

“And I love you too baby.”

Sara looked up and caught her eye as she smiled and brushed away her tears. Ava loved this woman, so much that it took her breath away and she loved the family that they now had.

Sara’s phone dinged and she looked away to read it. “Hey, do you want to meet my Dad at lunch next week?”

Ava paled, oh boy there was no way they were keeping the baby a secret. Not at the rate Sara was growing and with both kids knowing. So she would be meeting her girlfriend’s father while said girlfriend was visibly pregnant with her baby and both of their kids were bursting with excitement for a new sibling. Ava bit her lip and caught Sara’s eye. Sara looked over at her and she knew that it would mean the world to Sara if they met. 

“Yeah, just so long as he doesn’t yell at me for getting you pregnant,” Ava said, patting Sara’s legs. “And it would probably be good for you and Sin to meet my family as well.”

“We could meet everybody’s family all at once for a big family reunion,” Gary said, getting excited again and jumping off the couch to go grab one of the family photos Ava had on the mantle. 

Sara looked over at Ava a little apprehensively, and Ava shared in her worry. “We’re both adults and we have a plan. We’re not rushing into this and they have to be excited for a new grandbaby.”

“Yeah,” Sara nodded, still not completely sure about this, but on board with the plan.

“Yeah,” Ava nodded as well. “What was the worst that could happen?”

……………………………………………………………………

“Over here Papa,” Sin said, waving him over and Sara looked up to see her dad excitedly walking over to them.

It had been a few weeks since they had agreed to meet up with their families for lunch, and the day was finally here. They had arrived at the restaurant and had been seated in the backroom allowing for the private announcement. 

Sara took a deep breath and put a hand on her belly before moving it away. She had to remember that she couldn’t do that for the rest of the night until after they had announced it, as it was a dead giveaway to her pregnancy. She instead got up and greeted her father after he pulled Sin for a Papa bear hug and said hello to Laurel. 

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey sweetie,” Quentin said, leaning in to hug her.

“Hello Mr. Lance,” Ava said, holding out her hand for him to shake. Ava got up and stood tall next to her.

“You must be Ava,” Quentin said, looking her over with scrutinizing eyes as he shook her hand with a firm grip. 

“Yes sir,” Ava said, shaking his hand, probably with the same amount of force that he was using. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Ava. I’ve heard that you’ve been good to my daughter and grandchild,” Quentin said, as he gave her an approving nod and Sara let out a breath of relief.

“Well, they’re easy to be good too,” Ava said, looking over at Sara fondly, before putting her arm around Gary, who had shrunk back into his seat. “And this is my son Gary.”

Quentin gave him a more laid back and happy smile as he reached over to shake Gary’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you Gary.”

Gary smiled as he shook Quentin’s hand and relaxed against Ava’s side.

“Mom’s here,” Laurel said, giving them a heads up and they looked over to see Dinah walking towards them.

“Grammy!” Sin shouted, getting up and running over to her as Dinah crouched down and held her arms wide open for her grandchild. 

Sara always felt better when her mom was around. Growing up, Sara had always been particularly close to her Mom. Dinah was more accepting of Sara’s wild ways, letting her daughter experiment and make her own path. Dinah made it a point to visit them at least once a year. However, since she had moved to Central City after the divorce, Sara hadn’t seen her as often as either of them liked. So Sara was happy to have her back for a few days.

After having a little moment together, Sin and Dinah made their way back to the table where she quickly greeted Laurel and then Sara with a hug. As always Dinah took things with ease and greeted Ava.

“You must be Ava. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you from Sara and Laurel,” Dinah said, pulling her into a hug. 

Avis gave Sara a nervous smile over her shoulder but seemed to relax in Dinah’s arms.

As quickly and as warmly as she greeted Ava, Dinah also greeted Gary, holding out her hand for him instead of a hug as he had eyed Dinah warily. “And you must be Gary, Sin said you’ve been a good friend to them and that you enjoy magic.”

“Yeah, do you want to see this card trick I learned?” Gary said, instantly warming up to her.

“I’d love to,” Dinah said as he sat down next to Sin and Laurel.

Quentin quietly nodded at Dinah and they both exchanged a cordial hello. As both Dinah and Quentin settled at the table and Gary began to show him the card trick, Sara and Ava secretly shared a look. Ava smiled gently and she reached over to take Sara’s hands and put it over her belly. It was an action that eased both of their worries and Sara felt the baby flutter inside of her. 

“Two down,” Sara whispered to her.

“And two to go,” Ava whispered back, looking past her and waving to Dorothy and Hank as they walked into the restaurant. 

Both Sara and Ava got up at the same time to greet them. Sara straightened out her dress and tried to smile naturally. 

“Hello dear,” Dorothy said as she greeted Ava, pulling her in for a hug and a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Hi Mom,” Ava said, quickly pulling back and reaching out to shake Hank’s hand. “Hello Hank.”

“Ava, it’s good to see you, honey,” Hank said with a warm greeting, despite their formal handshake.

Sara stood nervously next to Ava and watched her parents greet her before they finally turned to her with warm eyes.

“Mom, Hank, this is Sara,” Ava said, introducing her and putting an arm around her waist.

“It’s so nice to meet you Sara,” Dorothy said, pulling Sara in for a hug.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Mrs. Heyward,” Sara said, trying to breathe as Dorothy squeezed her a little too tight.

“Oh please call me Dot. I’m only Mrs. Heyward at school,” Dot said, finally letting go of her and pulling back to smile warmly at her, putting Sara at ease.

“Sara, it’s good to meet you,” Hank said, holding out his hand for her to shake. He gave her a firm grip and a tight smile that Sara was expecting, given what Nate and Ava had said about their father. That he was a very formal man, but with a soft side that he reserved for only in private.

“It’s nice to meet you too Mr. Heyward,” Sara said as she retreated to Ava’s side. “Ava always speaks very fondly of both of you.” 

“Oh yes and Ava has said such nice things about you as well,” Dot said leaning back against Hank and putting a hand on his chest. “Hasn’t she Hank.”

“She has,” Hank said, merely acknowledging it.

Dot sent Sara a knowing smile and a wink, before going over and saying hello to Gary and Sin. Sara and Ava introduce both sets of parents to each other and so far everyone seemed to get along as they all sat down at the table. Ava pulled out Sara’s chair for her and Quentin noticed. He caught her eye and gave her an approving nod, to which Ava smiled and nodded back. 

“Where is Nathaniel,” Hanks said, looking around, as the waitress came over to take their drink orders.

“He is on his way Dad, everyone is a bit early.” Ava explained as she pulled out her phone to send Nate a quick text. 

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” Dot said, as she sent Hank a look. 

Ava gave them a nervous smile and Sara put her hand between Ava’s shoulder blades, gently rubbing up and down.

“So Ava,” Dinah said, looking over at her pointedly. “Sara said you were Sin’s school teacher. Is that how you both met?”

Sara could see how the smile Ava had put on her face betrayed how nervous she was. “Actually we met at the bakery, two mutual friends of ours were getting together and Sara was kind enough to hang out with me.”

“That’s so sweet,” Dot said, putting a hand on her chest and tilting her head to smile at them. “Ava mentioned that you were a partner in the business, Jiwe’s Bakery, yes.”

“Yes, I run the business side of the bakery for Amaya Jiwe,” Sara replied, matching Ava’s nervous smile as she spoke.

“A small business, that’s a good nice stable job I’m sure,” Hank said in more of a questioning tone.

“It is,” Dinah answered for her. “And it pays more than a teacher’s salary I’m sure.”

Hank looked like he was about to reply with another quip, but Ava managed to cut them off. “The Star City school district pays quite well actually and if you’re asking whether I am financially stable I assure you I am.”

“Okay,” Sara said, holding her hand out before this turned into a full on argument. “Let’s just clear a few things up. Ava and I are both financially stable enough to provide for each other and our children. We have seriously considered this relationship and how it will affect our children. We’re both equally committed to each other and we love each other very much.”

The last part was said as Sara reached over to grab Ava’s hands and held it on the table. Ava looked at her with soft eyes and the first genuine smile Sara had seen since they had sat down. 

“Well, I guess that settles it, for now,” Quentin said, taking a sip of his water as the waitress came back to pass them around.

“I suppose so,” Hank said, as both of their families exchanged a mutual nod of agreement, and Sara and Ava let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” Nate said as he approached their table and leaned down to give Dot a quick kiss before he sat down. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

Sara couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her throat and quickly hid it as she took a drink of her water. Everyone settled in and the rest of the meal went off without a hitch. Both of their families got to know each other as they talked and laughed and exchanged family stories. Ava looked over at Sara, putting an arm around her chair, she pulled her close and reached over to put a hand on Sara’s belly, under the table. 

When the waitress came and took away their plates, Sara and Ava gave Laurel the signal to take the kids for ice cream at the place across the street.

“Alright, who wants ice cream?” Laurel asked, standing up and grabbing her purse.

“I do, I do,” Sin said, jumping up and down in their seat.

“I can have two scoops, right Mama?” Gary asked, looking over at her. 

“Yes, I said you could baby,” Ava said smiled over at him as he wiggled with excitement.

“I think I’d like some ice cream too,” Quentin said, getting up from his seat.

“Actually Dad, why don’t we let Laurel and the kids go grab ice cream for us?” Sara said, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing. Of course, her Mom picked up on it and sent her a questioning look, but grabbed Quentin’s arm and pulled him back down.

“Sara is right, let’s go,” Laurel said, ushering Gary and Sin out.

The mood in the room immediately shifted as Laurel and the kids walked out of the restaurant and then both sets of parents immediately turned their eyes to Sara and Ava. Ava took a deep breath. They had both agreed to speak together to both of their parents and had gone over what they would say on the phone the night before.

“Sara and I wanted you both to meet so that we could all get to know each other as a family, because we are going to be a family.” Ava began as she nervously looked between Sara’s parents, her own, and Nate who seemed to be stuck in the middle. 

“It wasn’t planned, but Ava and I have chosen to do this. We’ve fallen in love and are ready to have a family together.” Sara continued where she had left off and put a hand over Ava’s on her belly.

“Sara, sweetie,” Dinah interrupted her. “If you two want to get married...”

“It’s not that Mom,” Sara said, looking over at Ava who nodded at her. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby and co-parenting together.”

The silence that filled the room could have been cut with a knife. Even Dinah, who was never one to judge her daughter, sat in silence as she absorbed the news.

“Oh my God, congratulations,” Nate said with a large smile blooming across his face. He immediately got up and went over to wrap them both in a hug. 

“Thank you Nate,” Ava said as she and Sara let themselves smile and enjoy Nate’s enthusiasm. 

“This is so exciting! A new niece or nephew!” Nate said as he looked between both of them. 

“It is very exciting,” Dinah added as she stood up and walked over to them. “And as adults, I trust that you both know what you’re doing.”

Sara got up as her mother walked around and felt the stress fall off of her shoulders. No matter what, if Sara knew she had her Mom on her side, everything would be okay. Dinah pulled her in for a hug and when she pulled back, Sara pulled at her dress to outline her belly. Dinah gasped and placed her hand on her belly. Sara glanced up to see that everyone was looking fondly at her baby.

“Dinah is right. These two are both adults and they haven’t taken this lightly. We should trust them and support them,” Dot said, getting up and walking over to hug Ava and Sara as well. 

Ava let herself melt into her Mom’s arms. When she pulled back, she looked over at Hank and Quentin who seemed to still be mulling over the announcement.

“You both have thought this through?” Hank asked, looking over at them. 

“We have,” Ava answered, putting her arm around Sara's waist.

“Sara, can you promise me you won’t run out on my daughter?”

Sara glanced over at Ava and Ava knew from the loving look that Sara would never do that to her.  

“I can promise you that I love your daughter very much Mr. Heyward and I know what it takes to raise a child, as I have one of my own. I would never willingly abandon either of them.”

Hank gave her one of his signature approving nods, as he was never one for hugs.

Quentin was the last one to get up and walk around to them. 

“I want you to take care of my daughter and grandbabies,” Quentin said as he gave Ava a hard look.

“I will. I promise,” Ava said with a nod as she looked over at Sara with a fond smile.

Quentin’s hard look fell as he smiled and pulled both of them in for a hug.

“I suppose I shouldn’t judge, you’ve got everything figured out and I can see that you're not rushing into this,” Quentin said putting a hand on Sara’s belly. “Besides how can I be anything but happy when you're giving me another grandbaby.”

Laurel, Gary, and Sin came back at that moment, with ice cream across their faces. Quentin pulled his hand back and ruffled Sin’s hair as they handed him the ice cream. 

“Did you tell them about the baby?” Sin asked as Sara grabbed a napkin to wipe their face. 

“We did,” Ava answered with a smile as she did the same with Gary.

“I’m gonna have a new niece or nephew!” Nate said, practically bursting with excitement. 

“Or nibling.” Laurel added matching his smile as Quentin and Dinah looked over at her with the same amount of surprise that they had for Sara and Ava, and Laurel just shrugged. “Sara was terrible at hiding it.” 

“Yeah, I’m going to be a big brother,” Gary said standing up tall and proudly until Ava wiped his face.

“And I’m going to be a big chicken.” Sin loudly proclaimed to the whole restaurant. 

……………………………………………………………………

The doorbell rang and Sara smiled as she swung open the door to see Mick, Lisa, Lita, and Sin piled to the small hallway.

“Hey you, Sara said, putting her arms around Sin. “Did you have a good time ice skating?” 

Normally Sara would have gone with them to their ice skating rink, but with Laurel and Tommy off on a picnic lunch and Ava and Gary at some magic show that Constantine was putting on. Sara opted to spend the afternoon getting back into her workout routine and doing some sparing with Kendra. Something she had finally been able to do now that she was fifteen weeks along and in the second trimester. 

“Yeah, I was practicing going backward, but Uncle Mick made me wear too much protective gear and I couldn’t see,” Sin said with an eye roll. 

“Yeah, because protecting your head is such a drag.” Sara laughed and sent Mick a wink as he just smiled and nodded his head.

“You should have seen the butt pads your dad made me wear when I first started ice skating,” Lisa said, turning around and mimicking the butt pillow, earning a laugh from everyone around her. “Overprotectiveness runs in the family.”

“Yeah, well there’s a good reason for it,” Sara said as she took the backpack from Sin’s shoulders. “You guys are always getting into way too much trouble.”

“Trouble is part of the fun,” Lita said with a smile.

“We should get going. You said you had a summer reading list to start,” Mick said, putting a hand on Lita’s shoulders.

“Ugh, summer homework is the worst!” Lita scowled as she crossed her arms.

“We should do some reading too kiddo,” Sara said, as she ran a hand through Sin’s helmet hair. 

“Having your teacher date your mom is no fun,” Sin said as they scrunched up their face.

“Yeah, I’m out,” Lisa said, holding up her hands. “There’s a reason I went to Nationals and not college.” 

Sin turned and hugged Lisa, who gave them an extra squeeze and a wink before she pulled back and hugged Sara.

“Bye Sin,” Lita said, as they did, their special cousin’s handshake ending in a fist explosion.

“See ya kid and take care Blondie,” Mick said, with his usual nod of approval and gave her belly a little pat.

The little baby in her belly kicked and fluttered and Sara put a hand on her stomach, feeling them wiggle around. They all looked down at her belly and Lisa made little grabby hands before putting her hands on Sara’s belly. Lita did a modified version of the cousin’s handshake with her belly and Sin joined her for the last fist bump and explosion. Sara was relieved that they were so excited about the baby. They were also so supportive of her relationship with Ava and it meant the world to her.

“Bye!” Sin yelled after them with a wave, watching until they disappeared onto the elevator.

“It sounds like you guys have fun,” Sara said, as she shut the door and they walked back into the apartment.

“Yeah, but do I have to read?” Sin asked as they knelt down to take off their black converse.

“Why don’t you bring out your book and we can start reading together,” Sara offered, with a yawn and Sin nodded, before running off to their room. 

The sun streamed in through the windows and the heat seemed to seep in through the bricks. Sara propped up a box fan in the window and set it to blow on the couch as she sat down. It was one of those lazy Sundays where all you wanted to do was nap, but they had a book to read, so Sara settled in.

As she waited for Sin, thoughts of Leonard filled her mind. Now that she was pregnant again, she couldn’t help but remember what it was like when she was pregnant with Sin and the memories of Leonard that came with it. He was so sweet with her and helped her out with everything, from late night food runs, to doctors appointments, and getting the nursery put together. He would massage her feet and hold back her hair as she was sick. Leonard took care of her, and after she gave birth to continue to take care of her and Sin. Leonard was so in love with both of them and they were his world. 

Sara still dreams of him sometimes, and she often dreamed of the last day they were together. The way the waves sounded as they hit the rocky coast, the way they curved around the corners, the way the engine revved, and the way Leonard smiled over at her. 

He picked a spot just against the cliffs where they could watch the sunset and pulled her into his lap. She still remembered the way that he smelled, like wind and sea salt with touches of his cologne that lingered on his collar. She remembered the way he held her, whispered in her ear how much he loved her, and how much she meant to him. Sara felt like they would be together forever. He looked at her like no one else did. 

They stayed there till the night grew dark and he drove slowly around the curves as they drove home. He told her to go to sleep and relax, he’d carry her into the hotel and promise to wake her up if her Dad called about Sin. She drifted off, but the next thing she knew they were rolling over the road. She remembered how the blood was everywhere, and the car seemed to be smashed around them. She remembered how his arm was bracing her against the seat. She remembered screaming, trying to get him to wake up, but no matter how loud she screamed he didn’t wake up.

“Mom, Mom.”

Sara startled awake and sat up. She looked over to see Sin just standing next to her, looking just as frightened as she felt. Sara leaned forward and wrapped her arms around them, trying to hold back the sobs that shook her body. 

“I’m okay, it’s okay baby,” Sara said, she didn’t want to frighten them and took several deep breaths, to try and calm herself. “I’m sorry I scared you. It’s okay.”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Sin whispered as they patted her back. 

Sara took a deep breath and squeezed Sin a little tighter. “Yeah baby, but it’s all over now and it was just a dream.”

Sin nodded and wiggled out of her arms. “I’ll go get Leo.” 

They quickly rushed off and then came back with Leo the lion and the picture frame of Leonard and them that sat on their nightstand. 

“Here, Leo will scare all the nightmares away,” Sin said, as they crawled back into her lap.

Sara laughed as she placed Leo on her chest while holding the picture. Sara turned so they could both hold the lion and look at the photo. 

“Your Daddy was the best at scaring away the nightmares, wasn’t he,” Sara said as they looked down at the picture and Sin gently outlined his face with their finger.

“He still is,” Sin said, hugging Sara tighter. “Daddy will always watch over us and keep away the nightmares.”

“That’s right.” 

Sara held Sin and just watched them for a moment. Sometimes missing him felt like an ache in her soul. Having Sin around made it feel both better and worse. She had the best reminder of him and a lifetime of things he would never see them do. 

She barely even knew when the door to the apartment opened. She just assumed it was Laurel getting back, but was greeted by Gary rushing up to them. He leaned down, half falling on them, to wrap them both in a hug.

“Hello.”

“Gary, remember what we said about personal space,” Ava smiled as she walked over and picked Gary up, tickling his sides. 

Sara looked up at Ava and smiled, happy that she was there. Yet, Ava seemed to freeze at the sight of them and stared down at the photo in their hands. 

“Who’s that?” Gary said, pointing at Leonard in the photo as he wiggled out of Ava’s arms. 

“That’s my Daddy,” Sin said proudly. “He used to run a figure skating rink with my Aunt Lisa. He took her to nationals and he taught me how to ice skate. This is Leo, a part of my Daddy lives in him and he scares away the nightmares.” 

“Cool, it’s like magic.” 

“Yeah.” 

Sin and Gary continue to talk and Sara looked up at Ava who seemed to close herself off. She briefly caught Sara’s eye as she walked away. “I should get going on dinner or something.”

Sara just nodded, knowing Ava needed time. It was easier for her, Ava’s ex-wife was the bad guy and Sara didn’t have to like her. Ava’s past was all said and done. Even if they did have to see her again, Sara knew that she didn’t have to play nice to the girl who broke Ava and Gary’s heart. 

Things with Leonard were different. Leonard was part of her and he was Sin’s dad. He would always be a part of their family. She and Ava had talked about it before, but only briefly and Ava seemed to deal with Leonard as if he was just a piece of her past. Sara decided just to let her deal with it on her own, with Ava knowing that Sara loved her. 

……………………………………………………………………

A few nights later they were all over at Ava’s place getting ready for bed. Sara stopped the dryer and pulled out two warm blankets for Sin and Gary. She quickly wrapped it up to hold the heat and walked down the hall. Gary was in his room with Ava who was helping him pick up the last of his toys. 

Sara opened the blanket, coming up behind him to wrap it around his shoulders. Gary cuddled into the warmth and gave her a hug.

“Thanks Sara, goodnight,” Gary said, turning around to kiss her cheek and pressing an extra kiss to her belly. It was something he had started doing after they told the kids and something she was still getting used to. “And goodnight to you too baby.”

Ava put the box away on the shelf and tilted her head as she smiled over at then. Sara smiled at her as Gary untangled his arms from her waist and crawled into bed. 

“Goodnight Gary,” Sara said, leaning down to kiss his head. 

“Ready to be tucked in?” Ava asked, already pulling the covers up to his chin. 

“Yep.”

Sara smiled at them and let them say goodnight to each other, going off in search of Sin, who was probably still in the bathroom. Instead, Sara heard Sin’s voice coming from the baby’s room. The room was dark as Sara opened the door and peeked in. Sin was standing in the crib and had put something into the corner of the framed photo of them.

“There you go Daddy, now you can watch over all of us at Ava’s house,” Sin said, looking up at the photo, it was the one from the frame on top of their dresser of Leonard sitting at his desk at the ice rink. “Today I played with Gary and we made a huge fort. Then we watched a movie and we had s’mores in the backyard because Ava has a campfire pit!”

Sara let Sin have a moment alone as they talked with their dad. It was something they often did, mostly before they went to bed and especially when they were missing him. 

Sara didn’t realize she was holding the blanket tightly up against her chest until Ava put a hand on her arm. She turned to look at Ava and let go, taking a deep breath. She went to put her arms around Ava, but she stepped away and just looked down. Ava gave Sara’s arm another squeeze and nodded her head, before walking away towards their bedroom. 

Sara took a step to follow her, but she wasn’t sure what she would say. So she decided to put Sin to bed before she talked to Ava. Sara peeked in the door again and wordlessly walked in greeting Sin with a smile as they turned around. She walked over to Sin, putting the blanket around their shoulders and hugged them close. 

“Hey Mom, I was just telling Dad about the s’more you made and how gross it was,” Sin said wrinkling up their nose. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Sara said as she bopped their nose. “Besides, I ate much worse things when I was pregnant with you.”

“Ugh like Broccoli,” Sin said, sticking out their tough and doing a full body wiggle.

“Yeah, I ate all that Broccoli and you still don’t like it,” Sara said, giving them an extra squeeze and tickling their sides. “Are you ready to go to bed, or do you want to keep talking to your Dad?”

“I’m ready,” Sin said as they turned around to look at the photo and leaned in to kiss it. “Goodnight Daddy.”

Sara smiled and blew a kiss to the photo as well. “Goodnight Len.”

Sin turned back and hugged her. They tried to put their weight on her and make Sara carry them, but Sara put her hands on their waist holding them into place. 

“Sorry kiddo, I’m already carrying one baby. I can’t carry you too,” Sara said with a frown as she pulled back. 

“Sorry Mom, I forgot,” Sin looked down and let go of her.

“It’s okay,” Sara said as she put down the side of the crib.

Sin crawled out and Sara put her arm around them as she let them down the hall back into Gary’s room, where he was already snoring. They hadn’t set up the bedroom for Sin yet as the grey paint, a compromise from black, was still drying. Sara pulled Sin in as she climbed into bed and lay down next to them. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t hold you like this.”

Sin smiled and snuggled close to her, wrapping the blanket around both of them. Sara ran her fingers through their short black hair. When they were a baby Sin would only fall asleep in either Sara or Len’s arms. They wanted to spend the entire day being held and Sara carried them around in a wrap for the majority of their first year. She was so honored to still be her kid’s safe space and she would never pass up the chance to hold them. 

Sara stayed with them and held them until they fell asleep. Then she slipped out from their arms and put a pillow into the space she previously occupied. She ran her fingers through their hair one last time and pressed a kiss to their forehead before she left the room.

Sara walked down the hallway and popped into the nursery seeing that the light was on. She paused to see Ava standing in front of the crib looking up at Len’s photo. She snuck up behind Ava and wrapped her arms around their waist. Ava didn’t jump this time, but she did startle and looked back at her before leaning in and holding Sara’s arms around her waist.

“Sin wanted their Dad to watch over the new baby too.”

Ava reached up and took the photo out, before turning around and handing it to Sara. “You should give it back to Sin. I know how important the picture is to them, besides this is our baby, we’ll watch over them.”

Sara just shook her head, she untangled herself from Ava and put the photo back. “Yeah, but Leonard is Sin’s father and he’s a part of their family, which makes him a part of our families.”

“Sara, he may be Sin’s father, but he’s not a part of our baby’s family. You, me, Gary and Sin are,” Ava said, grabbing the photo again and handing it back to Sara.

Sara looked at the photo and then looked over at Ava as her eyebrows knitted together. “Ava...”

“I get it Sara. I don’t mind Sin having Leonards’s photo in their room and stuff, but this baby is yours and mine alone. We’re going to be a family just the four of us.”

Sara gave Ava a hard look and put Leonard’s photo back in the corner of the picture, before crossing her arms and standing in front of the crib. 

“Len is a part of our family and when you committed to having a family with me and Sin that includes Leonard in whatever capacity Sin wants. This isn’t just about you and me is about Sin and I won’t force them to keep their father to themselves. If they want the photo in the nursery with the baby, then that’s where it’s going to be.”

“Sara, that’s not what I asked,” Ava said, trying to walk up to her and reached out to her, but Sara turned away.

“That is what you asked. Look Ava, we both have a past. We have past relationships that still affect us. We both have baggage.” Sara said, throwing up her hands, she hadn’t realized that she had raised her voice and took a deep breath. “You have Gary’s mother and I know that you’re not as open about her with Gary. I don’t even know her name. You don’t have any pictures of her up and I respect that, but Leonard is a part of my family and a part of Sin. I won’t erase that.”

Ava looked down and crossed her arms as well. “Things with Gary’s mom and I are completely different. She chose to leave and have nothing to do with me or Gary.”

Sara took a step towards her. “I know, but that doesn’t mean Gary doesn’t want to know about her. Sin wants to know about their father. I won’t keep Leonard from them and neither should you.”

Ava looked up and unfolded her arms, taking a step towards her. Sara reached out to hold Ava’s hands and gave them a squeeze.

“You and me and Sin and Gary and this baby,” Sara said holding Ava’s hand and putting it on her belly. “Are a family and nothing is going to change that. But our past led us to this moment and they are still a part of us. They deserve whatever place we choose to give them. Please let me and Sin have this place.” 

Ava moved her hands to hold the curve of Sara’s belly and looked up as she felt a drop of water. Sara had silent tears falling down her cheeks as she looked down at their hands. Ava reached up to hold Sara’s face and Sara leaned into her, wrapping her arms around Ava’s waist. 

“You’re right,” Ava whispered in Sara’s ear as she brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry Sara, I shouldn’t have tried to take Leonard away from you and Sin.”

Sara just nodded as her tears fell. Ava rubbed her back and let Sara cry as she led her out of the room. She led Sara down the hallway and into their bedroom, sitting down in a chair, and pulling Sara into her lap. The tears slowed and Sara’s breathing became even again, and she pulled Ava’s hand back to her belly.

Ava took a deep breath trying to settle her own nerves as she reached over to her nightstand. She opened the drawer and pulled out a photo, handing it to Sara. 

“Her name was Anna. She was a realtor and we met when I was house hunting back in Fresno. She was wild and spontaneous. She was never one for marriage and a family but she did it for me. I thought she would be happy but, I guess domestic life was too boring for her.”

“She said that?” Sara said, looking down at the photo of Ava with her arms around Anna as they both laughed in the photo. 

“When she left, I threw out everything that reminded me of her. I just felt so angry. I got rid of everything except for a few photos of her and Gary and this.” As Ava spoke she looked at Sara rather than at the photo.

“Does Gary know about this?” Sara asked, turning to look up at her. 

“Sort of,” Ava said, with a shrug. “He knows what happened, but he’s never really asked many questions about her.”

“I won’t tell you what to do with this,” Sara said, handing her the photo. “But if you want to give her photo to Gary I’d understand.”

“She doesn’t deserve a place in his life. She made that very clear on the day she left,” Ava said putting the photo away and shutting the drawer. “But I think Gary deserves to know more about her.”

Sara just hummed and nodded against her shoulder. They sat in the moment together letting themselves adjust and take in the emotions of the night. Ava noticed that Sara started to drift off and picked her up again to lay her down on their bed. She quickly changed and brought over a pair of pajamas for Sara, and Ava helped her change. By the time she crawled back into bed, Sara was asleep and Ava pulled her against her chest before she turned off the light. 

Ava thought about what Sara said as she lay awake. Sara was right, despite how much Anna had hurt her, she was Gary’s mother. He at least deserved to know more about her and when the time came, if he wanted to reach out to her, she would let him. 

She turned and looked out at the stars that glowed against the black night. A gentle early summer breeze came in through the open window and she caught a glimpse of the Moon. Ava was never one to believe in heaven or hell, but as she looked up she thought of Leonard. 

Leonard was a piece of Sara and of Sin, without him, they would have never met. She would have never had the family that she had today. She didn’t have to compete with him and as she looked up, she thanked him for the family she had now. Ava held Sara tighter and put a hand on her belly as she thought about the two perfect kids sleeping down the hall, she knew she was never letting go. 

[unholyhelbig]

Scratching at the Door | #HW201

Prompt: Creature Feature/ Cryptids 

Summary: Emily is given a new job at a national state park, where something watches her through the windows, and scratches at the door. 

Read on AO3 here 

Emily could feel her stomach contract as the old Sedona made its way over the packed dirt path. Its giant wheels didn’t’ struggle as much as her pension for keeping her breakfast down. She instinctively grasped at the foam-covered bars that kept tourists seated and tried to will her first meal to stay put.

The yellow paint was chipping away to a rusty red and the logo “Fort Worth Guided Tours” had long ago faded away. They had tried to fix it with a poor attempt at gluing on a plastic design instead, but it was just as bad under the mercy of the sun.

Emily realized she had stopped listening just as they ducked under another canopy of trees. The sun that had been burning her skin raw vanished, if only momentarily, as the ride decided to smooth out.

“Not many people come out here in our offseason,” The woman at the wheel said over the sputtering engine. “Fort Worth is a beauty all year round but it’s more of a summer destination- Gee, you don’t know how glad I am that we found you. The job isn’t too taxing, I promise.”

The girl bit her tongue and laughed nervously. The forest stretched out for miles in front of them; Emily could hear water on all sides of them but hadn’t been able to locate its source yet. The air was beginning to sting against her cheeks and she loosened her death grip on the bars.

She had been staying at a motel right off the highway that smelled strongly of stale cigarettes and off-brand detergent. Someone had tossed a newspaper into the bin by the vending machines and against her better judgment, she pulled it from the old receipts and food wrappers. An ad for a winter caretaker was among the classifieds. Emily jumped on the chance for permanent room and board.

She had fibbed in her initial interview about previous experience; but as Chloe said, it wasn’t a difficult job and both of them took an instant liking to one another. So she considered herself lucky. Emily would fake it until she made it, and by then, the summer season would be in full effect and she could head to whatever small town she threw a dart at on the map next.

Chloe beamed and stepped on the gas a little harder to get over a big dip in the trail. “There are a few people who go fishing on the lake in the early mornings, but most of the time it’s just you and a few other employees. You’ll hardly see them.”

“What exactly am I doing?” Emily asked, holding her breath as Chloe took a sharp corner. She tried not to look at the steep fall to her right. “The ad wasn’t really specific.”

“You just need to keep an eye on the property. The City owns most of this place and they have pretty shallow pockets if you know what I mean. We put almost every other staff member on sabbatical. For the most part, it’s just you and the night shifter.”  

Emily nodded along like she understood and let the rest of the ride go as smoothly as possible until an old cabin came into view. It looked dusty; it’s wood paneling enveloped in the thick forest. There was an old grill and a hammock that had been wrapped inside of itself. The engine cut off entirely, and it made her ears ring.

She could smell the water, and hear the river trickling somewhere west of the structure. Chloe hoisted the one duffel bag out of the backseat and reached with her other hand for the rifle that Emily hadn’t known was there. She had never fired one off before, but that was one of the formalities that she blurred to get this position in the first place.

Her boots crunched on the gravel and she minded her weight on the creaking steps leading to the cabin door more than Chloe did. The door had been painted red at one time, a bloody-pulpy color that had faded away. There were sets of long scratches against the remaining color. Emily moved the pads of her fingers against the gashes and felt a chill run up her arm.

“What made these?” She asked. Chloe glanced up from her task of finding the keys to the cabin. Her crystal eyes reflected green under the trees. She narrowed them and finally grabbed hold of her prize.

“All sorts of animals out on Greer Island. Some of them are more curious than others.” She shoved the rifle into Emily’s hands. It was weighty and smelled old. “That’s why you have this.”

Whatever- free room and board. She could deal with a couple of bears and some daring deer. It was better than the cheap motel room and the scratchy sheets. It was a much better improvement than the backseat of her Toyota. She followed Chloe into the cabin.

A thin layer of dust covered the entire place; there was an old plaid couch and a matching chair that sat adjacent to the grey stone fireplace. A bookshelf devoid of much reading material was pushed against a far wall below a taxidermy bison that looked like it was missing an eye. The place had an open floor plan and lead directly into the kitchen. There were two closed doors that held firmly onto that crimson color.

Chloe set the duffel bag down with a loud thud, Emily felt her fingers clench around the barrel of the gun and her shoulders edge up to her ears. She stifled a profanity and took a few more steps into the little cabin.

“The fridge is fully stocked.” She continued, “I’m out here once a month to restock everything for you. There isn’t much service, but there is a walkie-talkie in the bottom right drawer that has enough power to get to the main cabin. If it’s storming, that’s not the case.”

Emily nodded again and tried to comprehend the quick instructions. Chloe talked too fast, she decided. But she listened eagerly. “What do I do if it storms?”

“Either use that gun or run like hell. You can try both but” Chloe frowned and ran her finger over the edge of the rickety kitchen table and picked up a layer of dirt. “Christ this place is dusty. Anyway, you have four patrols around the lake each day. It takes an hour for each one. Between them, you can do whatever you want except for swim in the water. That’s how you catch something nasty.”

“What exactly am I looking for?”

Chloe shrugged “Anything out of the ordinary. If you see people fishing make sure you check for their license. The date of expiration is on the top right corner. If they’re expired, ask them to leave and radio into the main cabin so they can keep their eyes peeled.”

“Ok.”

“And whatever you do, make sure you finish your last patrol before dark. The sun sets around Six right now but it’ll change to five soon enough. Make sure you have enough firewood and lock the door. Don’t open it until your morning patrol.”

“Ok,” She dragged the word out this time. Something about Chloe’s change in demeanor made her itch uncomfortably. There was a stillness to the air. “Sounds simple enough.”

“Like I said, not too taxing, you can get some writing done up here, I’m sure.” She was beaming again, like the desolate nature of her words hadn’t weighed so heavily on the atmosphere. She dusted her hands off on her jeans and informed Emily that her uniform was in the closet (Which she learned was the door to the left).

“Oh, and Emily?”  

“Yeah, boss?”

Chloe was standing with her hand on the door. She left the metal key they used to enter on the table on the clear spot that was wiped away earlier. Her eyes were that dark and stormy blue again. “Whatever calls to you in the middle of the night ignore it. It’s not real.”

Emily didn’t sleep well that night, despite the four-post bed being the closest thing she’s felt too comfortable in months. Chloe’s words weighed heavily on her, and she locked the three deadbolts that she hadn’t noticed before. She had located the radio and kept that on the nightstand until she fell into a fitful slumber.

The sun rose right at six and her alarm started blaring. She slid on the jacket with Lake Worth’s logo on the breast and the sleeve before following the clearly marked trail towards the water. It was a simple walk and it was too early for her to spot anyone fishing.

She ended up back at the cabin at 7:30 and collapsed in a cold heap on the dusty couch. It was oddly silent and she had two more hours to kill before she had to make the trek again. Chloe was right; she would get a lot of writing done here.

Emily brewed some coffee and downed two cups as she wrote a decent part of her manuscript, papers spread over the kitchen table. The alarm on her watch went off a few minutes before 10:00 am and she made her way back to the lake.

The autumn sun was warm against her cheeks and she decided to enjoy the walk more this time. She breathed in the scent of the season and kept her eyes out for anyone on the water. She checked one fishing license and went on her way.

Her next patrol wasn’t until 3:00 pm so she decided to crack open one of the many books on the shelf. She chose “The Howling” by Gary Brandner and settled onto the couch, getting lost in the cheesy horror novel from the ’60s.

Emily had fallen easily into the routine three days in; she did each patrol but struggled immensely to beat the sunset on her fourth walk around the lake. It was colder and it made her move slower.

The scratching started on the seventh day. Her world had grown colder and she had fallen into an easy routine of walking around the lake. She left the double-barrel rifle next to the front door but made sure the radio was strapped to her belt.

The first night she heard it was no different. She had nearly forgotten Chloe’s foreboding words, but it had become a habit to lock the door at night. She missed the moon and the crisp dark air. But even still, she headed the warning.

Emily had dozed off on the couch with the book at her side. It’s heavy spine hitting the floor startled her awake. The fire she had stoked burned out and her heart pounded in her chest. But that wasn’t what had stirred her, no, it was a dull scratching- barely noticeable if it weren’t for the quiet of the cabin.

She sat up and stared at the door.

It budged at the pure force of the animal on the other side, and Emily figured that she had been reading too much about the occult. As Chloe said, some beasts are more curious than others, and she had dead-bolted everything. She watched the door for a few more tedious moments before crawling into bed.

Emily saw the tracks the next day.

They were unlike any animal she had come across before; long and jaded. It’s nails dug into soft clay earth and trailed right up to her front door. There were fresh slashes in the red paint- and she swallowed back her discomfort.

She had to call the cabin on her fourth walk that day, the sun was setting faster than she cared to admit and she trudged through the icy path. An orange light coated the earth as she thought strangely of the animals around her. The particular animal that started to wait under her window at night, it’s breath fogging the glass. She made it to her porch just as the soft pink of the sky faded to a darker blue, almost black.

Emily had another restless sleep, like her first night in the cabin. There was the same scratching at her door and the radio crackled with feedback next to her. She wondered if anyone else heard the thing past her walls.

Chloe brought her new supplies on the tenth day, stating that the roads were a lot worse than usual and that a big snowfall had cleared out the entire grocery store in town. She presented her with stale bread and some orange juice that had enough pulp to create the fruit that it came from. Her boss stuck around and fried up some eggs.

“The scratches on the door,” Emily started.

Chloe stilled her movements, she had the blunt end of the spatula against the iron skillet. But it was just a beat where she was taken aback, barely noticeable. “Mm, have they been bad?”

“No. I mean, as normal as they can be. What kind of animal sounds like that?”

“We’re not sure. Not one you want to mess with.”

She tipped the pan over and divided the eggs evenly between the two before sitting in the rickety chair across from Emily. She didn’t wait to dig in, shoving a good heaping of the food into her mouth. Emily figured it avoidance.

“You said something about it calling out to me”

Chloe stopped the fork halfway to her mouth, a large glob of yellow yolk splashed into the grooves of the table. She lowered it and sat back in her seat. “Has it?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Good.”

She dropped the subject after that. They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence and Chloe left before the next time Emily had to trudge along the lake. It was getting harder, the colder it was, to get back to the cabin before nightfall. She gripped the radio tighter and let the eggs settle to the bottom of her stomach like rocks.

She put what Chloe said out of her mind until the scratching began again.

Emily had another fitful sleep. The air was growing colder and it made her chest ache. She rose when the sun did and took her first walk around the lake. She spotted two fishermen by the edge of the water and stopped just short of the tree line.

“Howdy,” one of the men said, he reached instinctively for his wallet, and Emily, drowsy from sleep, thanked him. “You’re new.”

“You’re out here a lot?”

She checked both of their licenses and watched as they effortlessly slid them back into one of their pockets. The sky was overcast and there was an odd stillness to the water. The man who had stayed quiet smiled widely and nodded. The fishhooks on his hat clinked together.

“Oh yeah, all the time. Most people don’t like to be out here in the cold but we love it. Fewer tourists and people trying to get a look at that dumb lake monster, they simply scare him off if you ask me.”

The other man shoved a pointed elbow into his friend “You know that shit ain’t real. It’s a money pit. Hell, they have shirts and bumper stickers. It’s nothing but a legend.”

“No, remember Mike? It hopped down from the trees an’ slashed all four of his tires. That’s why his hair is grey.”

“Mike Granger? His hair is grey because he’s an old lying bastard.”

Emily watched the exchange with wide eyes. She didn’t know much about this sleepy little town. She had pulled into the motel in the late hours and only spoke with one woman. Her voice was husky from years of smoking and the only vacancy sign in the place buzzed like a trapped fly. She should have paid more attention- should have eaten at a diner or asked Chloe more questions, even if she didn’t get the answers she wanted.

“I’m sorry… monster?”

Both men stopped their arguing and stared at her. She waited as her breath pooled past her lips. They were dried and cracked and tasted like blood. The taller one cocked an eyebrow and sent a narrow glance at his friend.

“Now, surely you didn’t take this job without knowing the Lake Worth Monster.”

She shrugged dejectedly “I’m afraid I did.”

“It’s a big hairy beast. Half goat, half-man, some bloke even said he can shapeshift. It’s got scales too and apparently claws long enough to slice tires. It’s been around since 1969 and our little town has capitalized on it since then. Like I said, a complete marketing scheme.”

Emily hugged her jacket closer and nodded. She thanked both of the men and continued on her way. She didn’t stop until she was back at her cabin. Her breath was shallow and she knelt down to stare at the long scratches on the door.

She struggled to put the beast out of her mind, to forget what the two strangers had said. She had checked and then double-checked the locks but still, she worried. Her eyes trained themselves on the ceiling and she listened as something crawled below her bedroom window.

Emily woke the next morning to the radio crackling. She reached for it blindly. “Hmm?”

“Emily, do you copy?”

“I copy.”

“I know it’s early. There’s been an accident. I need you to meet the sheriff down on the south side of the lake.”

Emily sat up and cursed herself for the quick movement as stars danced against her eyes. She pressed her palm against her forehead and blinked hard until they faded away. She squeezed the radio and told Chloe that she understood, even though she didn’t.

She saw the caution tape and the flashing lights that looked brighter under the half-risen sun. The sheriff was a tall woman with dirty blonde hair and soft pink lips. She was bundled up more than Emily and stood with her boots at the edge of the icy hardened shore. There was an overturned boat and the crackling of a radio other than hers.

“Emily, I presume?”

She nodded and her head was spinning “What’s all of this about?”

“Two fishermen are missing to the public.”

“What does that mean?”

“As far as anyone else knows, they’re just missing.” The sheriff grimaces and fixes her hat. “They were mutilated.”

Emily swallowed the dark feeling in her stomach. “By what?”

“You mean who?”

“Yeah, yes. By who?”

Emily didn’t’ mean by who; she meant what she had said and the sheriff stared at her as if she were to head back to the cabin and never speak of it again. Did this town have a vow of silence in the winters? She sheepishly kicked at the gravelly sand and listened as the woman spoke evenly.

“We don’t know. We were hoping that you had seen something but Chloe explained that you wouldn’t have. Said you were really good at your job and the time that these men were killed doesn’t line up with one of your patrols. I still wanted to speak to you.”

She could smell the blood and the way it mixed with the black water and looming fog. She wondered if they didn’t’ follow the rules and hadn’t gotten inside before the sun moved behind the horizon. This was the price to pay, for insolence.

Emily answered the remaining questions that the sheriff had before trudging back to the cabin. This time, she didn’t’ stop to feel the scratches on the door. This time she slammed it behind her and flopped onto the couch. She must have fallen asleep.

It was nearly dark, and she was late by the time she woke up. She had missed both of her midday patrols and wasn’t about to miss the fourth. Her body ached from the uncomfortable position she had winded up in. Emily slid on the jacket and thought twice before grasping at the shotgun behind her. It’s weight nearly throwing her off.

She was tired and the air was buzzing with electricity. There was a storm brewing and half of her knew that the rain would come down as slush instead of simple water. The twilight sky had clouds blocking a half-moon.

Emily had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to lose this one like she had the others. She had convinced herself, in the few weeks of solitude, that the manuscripts were coming along nicely because of the environment and the way she could listen to her own breath and the sounds of the cabin settling.

The sheriff and the boat, and the horrid scent of dried blood had been swept away with the wind. She kept further away from the shore, only stalling for a moment as the color in the sky began to fade away to black.

Emily didn’t know why she stopped. Why she listened to the ripples hit the shore and her own stilted steps against the sand. Her toes were numb, two pairs of socks not enough to keep the cold at bay. She recalled a conversation she had with Chloe the second time she dropped off supplies. This time she brought Emily a notebook and some pens- a few books about the Holocaust to lighten the mood.

It wasn’t a funny joke, but she chuckled anyway. “Thank you for taking this job, Emily. I’ve really taken a liking to you, you know?”

“I like you too, Chloe.”

She had flipped through the pages of the book and faired that if she got really desperate, she would give them a shot. She wasn’t’ much into history and neither was Chloe, seeing as she left them here with not much care.

“You been hearing weird things at night?”

“No,” She lied, setting the book on the step next to her “Whatever it was must have gotten bored enough.”

Chloe nodded and smiled before climbing back into her dusty yellow jeep and heading off to her next destination. Emily sat on the porch and watched her go. She breathed in the musty scent of the trees around her and flexed her fingers. Emily had made up her mind a few nights ago.

She wasn’t sure if she should watch the sun settle behind Lake Worth. If she should plant her feet in the sand and wait until whatever it was that wanted her came. A bit of caution tape was left behind, its plastic hissed in the wind so loud that she nearly didn’t hear the twig breaking.

Chloe had been hiding something; and as foolish as it was, Emily needed to know what. Those men, those that had settled onto the rocky lake with the intention of fishing had to be one of many. One of maybe thousands. Her morbid curiosity was too much.

Emily heard it before she saw it. She waited for something and nothing all at once, her breath solidifying in front of her as night finally fell. She hadn’t seen the way the sky lit up with stars all at once- but she enjoyed it now. Her eyes traced the constellations.

She clenched her eyes shut until those stars appeared within her mind and the sound of the water lapping at stones and sand and dirt moved over her ears. Almost too loud for her to hear it. Almost. Emily felt the heat of its sour breath on her shoulder, and even from where she stood, she knew it towered.

Emily drew in a cold, ragged breath and she tightened the grip on a gun, she didn’t even know how to use.

[craniumhurricane]

He’s Her Lobster

Started this earlier this year after a FRIENDS rewatch. I understand that Ross and Rachel’s relationship is problematic but they do have some cute moments.

Shout out to @casleyislove and @sushigirlali whom I love with my whole fangirl heart.

[ On AO3! ]

This feels like it should be a big deal. Which is probably why he is actively trying not to think about it as being a big deal.

Last week, Ark University's Classics Department was asked to put together an hour to an hour and a half long discussion topic that would be filmed for a segment on the History Channel. Professor Pike was originally picked but had to drop out last minute. So, Bellamy was notified this morning that he would be the speaker and to show up on campus, dressed, later tonight. It's an incredible honor and the University may even use some of the footage for future promotional work.

So, yeah, Bellamy is definitely failing at not thinking about it.

He digs out the garment bag hanging in the back of his closet containing the only three suits he owns and goes over to Miller’s. He might as well stress and get ready. It’s multitasking.

"So, which one?" He asks, picking two of the hangers off the back of the couch and holding each outfit in front of him in turn.

Miller glances up from his phone and frowns. "The cream one makes you look like a steamboat conductor."

"I was just bringing options!” Bellamy defends. “I don’t have a very wide selection here and I thought it would help me stand out."

"If you're going for an ethnic Colonel Sanders then it's perfect."

Bellamy huffs out a breath and tosses the suit unceremoniously on top of the garment bag.

“Don’t you wear, like, sweater vests and tweed to school anyway? Just wear what you normally wear,” his friend shrugs before turning back to type something on his phone.

“But this is for TV! I want to look professional!”

“Hate to break it to you, but the fact that they asked you must mean that you’re already pretty professional.”

Bellamy can feel the warmth working its way up his neck and turns to start pulling the clothes off the hangers to avoid his friend seeing. “What if we mixed and matched them.”

They go back and forth a few more times, at one point he even considers scrapping everything and just going out to buy new clothes. Miller really is the worst person he could have asked for help about this.

“Why don’t you just go ask Octavia?” he asks.

Bellamy freezes as he’s putting his clothes back on the hangers and then continues to stuff them back in his bag without looking up at his friend, “You know why.”

“Dude,” he can hear the eye roll in Miller’s voice, “I’m pretty sure she’s not there, she had something going on tonight too.”

He desperately wants to ask if it’s a date, but he doesn’t want to sound nosy. Which he is... but his friends don’t need to know that.

Instead, he clears his throat. “Good idea cause clearly you are absolutely no help.”

Miller gives him a mock salute, “What are friends for.”

Bellamy just flips him off on his way out the door.

*

He’s a little antsy as he makes his way over to his sister’s place. He hasn’t spent much time there in the last three months since… well, since the breakup. Octavia has handled being neutral territory surprisingly well between him and her roommate.

It aches a little as he pulls up to their apartment complex, but he just reminds himself that she’s not home; he can get in, see his sister, get out, and go do this TV thing.

Bellamy uses his key to open the door, not bothering to knock, swinging it open just as tiny white pills fall to the ground and skitter all over the place. And there’s his ex, standing in the middle of it all wearing a plush bathrobe and her grumpiest, most disgruntled look on her face.

Clarke glances up at him and he sees the slight surprise in her eyes before they return to glaring, "Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything," he says and steps inside, closing the door behind him.

"Sure you weren't," she grumbles and sets the now near empty pill bottle on the table.

Bellamy ignores the barb and walks towards the living room, careful to avoid stepping on any of the mess. "Is Octavia here?"

"No," Clarke responds but he can hear her grunting. He turns to see her struggling to bend over, hand pressed into her side.

He sighs. "Here, let me help you,” he says and puts his stuff down on the couch.

"I got it," she snaps and then promptly stumbles forward. He catches her before she can fall over completely.

"No," he says and eases her into one of the kitchen chairs, "You don't." He shoots her a small smile before crouching down and cleaning up the spilt painkillers.

They're quiet but Bellamy can feel her burning a hole into the side of his face. He wants to ask her what happened, why she’s hurt, but he’s not sure if she’d actually tell him.

“Your sister decided she wanted to learn how to rollerblade,” Clarke says, as if reading his mind.

That gets his attention enough to look at her and he frowns, “She’s not coordinated enough for that.”

“Hence why she crashed into me and I probably have a nice bruise running up my side.”

He feels his lips twitch but turns so she can’t see as he stands to put the last of the pills in the trash. He doesn’t miss the way her lips twitch when his knees crack though.

Bellamy grabs a cup and fills it up with water before setting it down in front of her. He grabs the bottle next to her elbow and carefully taps out two pills and sets them next to the glass before recapping it.

"What are you doing here, Bellamy," Clarke asks quietly.

He glances at her, but she's stubbornly keeping her gaze on the cup of water now in her hand.

"I needed Octavia's opinion on something," he answers truthfully and he’s not sure if he imagines it but it doesn’t seem to be the answer she was hoping for.

She clears her throat. "She's not home. Meanwhile," she tosses the tablets into her mouth, chasing them with her drink, "I need to get ready for this gala showing." She goes to stand but not without grunting in pain.

Bellamy frowns, "You can't be serious?" Clarke just stares blankly at him, hand pressed firmly into her side. "Whatever, I'll get out of your hair."

He walks past her to grab his bag and then heads for the door.

"Wait," she calls and he turns around. "Do you mind... helping me get ready?"

He pauses, a little in shock.

It must be too long because an annoyed look crosses her face. “Look, I can do it, but it would be a lot faster if I had some help,” she says and averts her eyes again.

Bellamy glances at his watch, just to check that he’s still good on time because he knows he can’t say no to her. Even now.

“Sure, princess.” The nickname slips out but neither of them comment on it as he follows her into her room.

He hasn't been in Clarke’s room since the breakup but nothing has changed. Clothes are still scattered on the floor and out of the corner of his eye he can see the photo of them on her bookshelf. Only now it’s turned around, showing the back of the frame. Bellamy wills himself not to look at it.

"The dress is hanging on the back of the door if you could grab it and put it on the bed," she nods her head towards her closet and sits down with an audible sigh of relief at her vanity mirror.

He quickly retrieves the garment, trying not to look around, but he pauses to look at it once it’s in his hands. He recognizes the dress as one of her favorites… one of his too.

He lays it out on the bed. "Tights?" He asks.

She meets his eyes in the mirror and there's a small smile as she nods, "Yeah."

He knows exactly the ones she pairs with this dress. He bends down to grab them out of one of her dresser drawers and tosses them on the bed too. Then, without being told, he walks over to her shoe rack and grabs the blue heels she likes to wear.

“Thank you,” Clarke says after he’s set them down.

“No problem,” he says and this time he lets himself shoot her a smile. “I’ll just,” and he gestures towards the door.

“Wait!” She says and then hesitates. “Do you think… do you think you could do my hair? I didn’t really have a chance to wash it properly. One of your braided styles might look nice?”

She looks so hopeful Bellamy doesn’t want to say no. He subtly checks his watch… he still has time.

He looks back at her with another smile. “Sure.”

Bellamy brushes out her hair that’s still slightly damp and tries not to get lost in how soft it still feels. Trying not to remember all the times he used to run his fingers through it right there in the bed behind them that he can see in the reflection of the mirror.

Clarke does some light makeup as he twists her hair so half of it’s in a crown on her head. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches every time she tries to raise her left arm to a certain height before ultimately switching the little makeup brushes to the other hand. He frowns.

"Do you need help getting dressed?" He asks when he’s done with her hair.

Bellamy knows he's overstepping, knows he no longer gets to be the one to undress her. But he can tell she's struggling and can't help wanting to help her.

And Clarke must get it because she doesn't seem mad by his offer. Still, she declines his offer.

"I got it from here,” she says and slowly stands up, putting most of her weight on the vanity until she finds her balance. “Thanks, Bellamy."

He hesitates but knows from experience that there’s no pushing her. As he turns to leave her room, Clarke reaches down for the clothes on the bed and suddenly cries out in pain. Bellamy spins around to find her crouched at the foot of the bed, arm wrapped around herself while the other holds her bedspread in a death grip.

He bends down to wrap a hand around her elbow. "Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Surprisingly, she doesn't fight him on it. "Yeah. Yeah, ok."

He eases her back into a seated position on the bed before grabbing a pair of leggings and a random t-shirt from her dresser. He sets them down next to her before leaving her room so she can get changed.

It's after he's shut the door that Bellamy realizes the t-shirt was one of his that he thought he'd lost months ago.

He checks his watch and he’s still got a little time. He can drop Clarke off in the ER and head straight to the school and just suck it up with one of the outfits he has on him.

“Everything ok?”

Bellamy looks up and Clarke is shuffling over to him with her hand pressed to her side.

He swallows and offers a smile. “Yep,” he says and walks over to adjust his shirt so it’s sitting properly on her small frame. “Let’s go.”

*

The drive to the hospital is quiet and not like the comfortable silences they used to share. Bellamy parks as close to the doors as he can and has every intention of leaving Clarke in the waiting room… But her grip on his hand tightens as she eases into one of the chairs and doesn’t seem to have any intention of letting go. So he just sits next to her and begins filling out the paperwork that the girl at the registration desk handed him.

It’s when they’re wheeling Clarke back for an x-ray that he realizes he isn’t leaving. He can’t.

So he calls the head of his department, explains that his girlfriend had an accident and is in the hospital, leaving out that she’s his ex-girlfriend, and that he won’t be able to make it to the shoot.

After they’ve brought her back out and the doctor explains that it’s just some bruised ribs, he sends them on their way with an order for bedrest and a prescription for higher dose medication.

“And I’m obligated to inform you that when we say ‘bedrest’ we really do mean rest. Sexual intercourse is strongly not recommended for at least two to three weeks.”

Bellamy turns beet red and out of the corner of his eyes he can see Clarke’s face doing the same. They thank the doctor before heading to the after-hours pharmacy downstairs to get her prescription.

The drive home feels even more uncomfortable than the drive to the hospital.

"Ok,” Bellamy says, finally breaking their silence as he opens her apartment door. “Let's get you to bed. Doctor's orders." He puts his arm around her again to help her shuffle inside.

Clarke tilts her head to look up at him and his eyes meet her blue ones instantly. “Than-“

“Clarke!”

They’re startled apart but Bellamy still keeps a firm hand on her waist to prevent her from falling over.

Octavia jumps up from the couch and rushes over to them.

“What the hell happened?” she demands, looking from her roommate to her brother and back.

“Let’s just say I’m not doing any more outdoor activities with you,” Clarke says and stifles a yawn.

“Wha- Me?” Realization and guilt crosses her face before she asks, “Are you ok.”

“Just some bruised ribs,” Clarke reassures her. “Nothing to worry about. Your brother took me in to get it looked at.” She turns to look at him again with a grateful smile and it’s then that he realizes he’s still holding onto her. Still standing too close to her

He clears his throat and starts to pass her over to his sister. “Can you get her to bed, O?”

“Yeah, sure,” Octavia says and immediately takes most of Clarke’s weight. She starts to head towards the bedroom when she turns. “Oh! Miller texted that you were looking for me. How did that thing go tonight?”

Clarke pauses. “What thing?” she asks him.

“It’s nothing-“

“Bellamy’s going to be on the History Channel!” Octavia exclaims.

Shock crosses Clarke’s face. She looks back at him, frantic, “But he’s been with me all night. You didn’t tell me you had plans!  Bell, I’m so so-“

He waves a hand to cut her off. “Don’t worry about it, princess. They rescheduled the whole thing so Pike and I can film a longer segment together at a later time.” He shoots her a smile, “So, really, you helped me out.”

“Yeah… yeah, ok,” she says but doesn’t look entirely like she forgives herself. She starts to move away from Octavia and make her way towards her bedroom by herself... And he can’t leave her like this.

“Clarke,” he calls to get her attention again. “I was right where I wanted to be tonight,” he says with a small, reassuring smile.

A blush is making its way onto her cheeks but she’s smiling back at him.

“Alright,” Octavia says quietly as she reaches out to grab Clarke’s elbow again. “Let’s get you to bed.”

She nods at her roommate and whispers a quick, “Thanks, Bell,” before the two girls are behind the shut door of Clarke’s bedroom.

“Anytime, princess,” he says to the empty living room before turning towards the front door.

Bellamy wasn’t lying when he said he was right where he wanted to be tonight. He always wants to be by her side, in whatever relationship she wants from him. And as he gets in his car he tells himself that he’s going to stop by tomorrow to check up on her. And the next day after that, if she’ll have him.

He’s hoping she will.