#i need to get a drivers license but driving is TERRIBLE and AWFUL and makes me cry

[femvaylin]

Having one of those moments where I desperately want to go home (place I lived for two years 2018-2020) home (place I've never lived in my life) home (my childhood home I can go back to anytime I like but it never feels like I expect it to) home (my mom's run-down apartment she lived in for one year in 2011) home (under the raspberry bushes in my grandparents garden)

[kadavernagh]

TIMING: Saturday Morning, at around 11pm PARTIES: @faunandfl0ra @kadavernagh LOCATION: Downtown, Wicked’s Rest SUMMARY: Conor gets a good shock and ends up looking a little more goat-y than he likes. Regan is there to pull him aside and worry about his weird legs. CONTENT WARNINGS: Car crash tw

“I appreciate it man, you’re a lifesaver,” it had been a while since he last broke a string on his violin. With Mother’s day behind, and the amount of money it brought in, Conor had finally taken a trip to the local luthier, and gotten his bow rehaired as well. It would be nice to play again. He barely had time to do anything for himself this month, and his various encounters with other fae had left him in a state of anxiety that simply wouldn’t go away. 

He had 4 hours before he opened the shop again this afternoon, which left him plenty of time to unwind, right? 

The faun stopped for tea at the local coffee shop. He would head home soon, but it was a sunny day, and he liked walking around on such occasions. His cup in one hand, his violin case in the other, he let his stroll take him around the neighborhood. He had reached the seafront, and stopped to look at the crabs which for once were napping on the sand instead of being up to no good. Things were quiet at last. He could tell there was another fae approaching, but while he had already met four, he had gotten used to sensing them in the street. There were quite a lot of them around here, weren't there. 

What he didn’t sense coming was the car turning a bit too fast around the curb, other drivers honking in protest. The tires screeched against the pavement, and Conor turned on his hooves, wide eyes staring at the vehicle headed his way. What was the expression again? A deer caught in the headlights? There were no headlights. He was a goat. It was still a pretty damn good expression in this instance anyway. What are you doing? With shock past him, he stumbled back, although it was the driver’s swerving at the last second that would save him. The faun tripped on something, probably his own foot, and sent the cup of tea flying. Call it a terrible sense of preservation, but his violin’s safety came first, and his glamour last. 

Did falling down always hurt so bad? 

It would have been appropriate to compare Regan’s life to a car crash in most respects. She often did. What happened less frequently was witnessing an actual one. She had been paying more attention than the man on the curb was – maybe it was that awful bubbling feeling in her throat as the car rounded the corner way too fast – but she was too far away to help. There was a honking of horns and whooshing of lungs and before Regan could will herself not to scream, don’t scream, bite your damn tongue off if you need to, it was over, no scream needed. And no one had died. 

Her own cup of coffee had fallen out of her hands at some point and matched whatever discarded beverage was dropped from the almost-dead-man’s. Evidence that too much emotion still flowed through her during moments like this. Right. She had responsibilities here as a doctor, a first responder. As the car peeled away, she noted the license plate number. A vanity plate, of course. She’d make them regret driving away without checking up on who they almost hit.

Almost. But not quite. Her attention turned to the man, who seemed understandably shocked. He was clutching a heavy-looking case like it was keeping him alive.

“Are you–” Okay? That was what she wanted to ask. But her eyes caught on the pair of horns above the man’s head, and she traced them down to his skull, where they poked through his mop of wavy hair in a manner that looked all too real. Those weren’t there before. And his ears, too. She would have noticed. Horns appearing out of thin air? The prickling and tickling across her shoulders and arms as she got closer to him? And then – she looked down at his legs, or where regular legs should have been, and they looked bent in some grotesque configuration underneath his pants. Okay. She’d seen enough to make up her mind. 

“With me.” Regan grabbed him by the shoulder, scrunching her face up at the intensifying buzz of her skin. She noticed a couple of pedestrians staring; initially they showed only concern, but they seemed to notice the same things Regan did and concern melted into confusion. “Can you walk? Your legs don’t look –” She offered her support to help him catch his balance. “They don’t look the steadiest.” Regan tried to shove him toward an alley in a manner that wasn’t as gentle as she would have preferred, but efficiency was to be prioritized. A fat rat flushed out of a fallen garbage can and scattered across the alley. “This is hardly a place to assess your injuries, but we may not have a choice. Considering your, uh… say, you didn’t just come from one of those ‘cosplay’ gatherings, did you? I was informed about those.”

Wide eyed, the faun clawed at his violin case like his life depended on it. His eyes fixated on the car as it drove off, as if nothing happened, as if they hadn’t nearly run him over. As much as the idea of living, when everyone he grew up with died or had already died, made him feel sick, realizing that he could have been gone right then brought a rushing, overwhelming sense of nothingness to his head.His nose wrinkled in what looked like anger, but his eyes were humid. He felt too much and he couldn’t even swear his heart out like he usually would. 

He stared at the car until it vanished around the corner, the woman’s -no, the fae’s- voice reaching his ears. Conor was alright. He was… He looked down at his legs, who didn’t look… Well they looked normal to him, which was absolutely not how they were supposed to look. Oh fuck. He reached up to his head. Fuck, fucking crispy shit on a cracker, fuck. Focus. He’d learned how to do that in the days that followed his ‘growth spurt’ of sorts. He was 13 then. 57 years later, he still let it slip when he panicked. He needed to calm down. He just needed to focus on something calm. 

“My legs are fine,” he replied. They were fine. He just had to make them look like so, and agree to follow her somewhere no one could see him like that, the sound of his hooves no longer muffled by a spell. “I’m a… what? Cost play?” Wasn’t that the name of a British band? He didn’t like their music, but he also didn’t see the connection with him here. “You…” He pressed his lips together. He wasn’t making sense and he needed to make sense right now. She was fae, she must have known things. “You and I… We’re both…” Brilliant. He was ready for the debate club. “Fae…Right?” He didn’t like it, that word, or associating himself with it, but what else was there to say to explain his legs, his horns and everything wrong with him? “I need to focus. They’ll go away if I focus,” he assured her. She didn’t have any on her head, so she must have understood that much, right? He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, cutting himself off from his surroundings for a second. For the most part, this meant pleading please please please please go away until it all came true. 

“Well, your legs don’t look fine. They look like you’ve broken some bones. But…” Given the way he was walking, Regan doubted that was the case. Though his gait was terribly clumsy, just not strained. And there was a weird clopping noise accompanied by each step. Did she even want to know? She peered out of the alley, noting that the gawking bystanders hadn’t followed them, and heaved out a sigh. 

The word fae wasn’t one she had wanted to hear, but it was a reasonable thing to ask under the circumstances. Interestingly, he seemed as uncomfortable saying it as Regan was hearing it. “Yes. I mean, no. Well, yes, but –” Regan froze. It was such a simple question, yet one of the most complicated ones in the world for her. She wasn’t like him, some antler-covered, floppy-eared bambi man. But she was more like him than the people who had been staring. “We have something in common. I prefer a different word, or none at all. I’m helping you because…” She searched herself, making sure this wasn’t a lie on a technical level. “Because I am a doctor. And you were nearly flattened by a car.” Some small part of her still wanted to think the antlers were part of a costume, but this was confirmation enough that they weren’t. “So they’re real, then?” She asked. There was that one patient she’d had at Saol Eile, a visitor from a neighboring community, who had possessed similar antlers and ears. Perhaps a relative. 

When he mentioned needing to focus, Regan understood. “Oh! This is a glamour.” Something in her eyes brightened for a moment, before dying just as quickly. She had both seen and heard about glamours. Her grandmother tried desperately to force her to succeed in them, resorting to methods that marred her wings to this day. But Regan never could. She could never give over the last bit of her skepticism to believe it was possible, as much as she desired to hide herself from the world. She flicked the pendant on her necklace between her fingers, silently thanking it for existing, as much as she hated the thing for existing just the same. “Does this happen when you’re, um, frightened? You grow horns? Are you sure your legs are okay?”

“I don’t know a different word,” he pointed out. Conor didn’t know many things regarding who he was. His mother was clueless about those things, and his father wasn’t the most helpful, unsurprisingly. Now she was nearing the end of her life, and he didn’t even want to know where his old man was. “And I would rather fucking be normal but here we are,” he motioned to his legs, and then his face, as if to just highlight the obvious non-sense at stake here. Who the fuck looked like that? Not someone normal. 

“You’re a doctor,” the faun repeated. So this was all she cared about then? Whether he was fine. “I am fine,” his stomach churned, as if to express discomfort in the face of a lie. He grimaced. Fucking hell. He needed to stop doing that, but somehow, saying I’m fine, that shouldn’t have counted as a lie, right? Everyone lied about that, not because they wanted to lie, but because they didn’t want people asking why. He should have just smiled. He didn’t smile much, but that was better than feeling sick, wasn’t it? 

Fucksake.

She asked about his horns, and he sighed. This was all he hated. Talking about himself, and worst of all, the parts he hated about himself. “Unfortunately.” And that was it. He didn’t want to elaborate. Maybe she wouldn’t ask more questions, he hoped. How could he focus if she asked more questions? His heart was still racing from earlier, and he knew he was still in a bit of panic, but Conor also felt an urge to look normal again. That’s all he wanted : he wanted to look normal, to be normal, and go back to his place, with his violin, have a bit of quiet, a bit of peace. This was all he asked for. 

He was a stubborn guy, and if he pleaded enough, focused enough on what he wanted… It would work. “My legs are fine. Faun.” The word was spat out, like an insult. “Means I’ve got legs like a goat, and this fucking bullshit growing on my head.” He finally looked at her again. “You’re not a faun, are you? You’re another sort of…” He didn’t say the word this once, and looked away as quickly as he had looked at her. They were alone here. At least, there was that. 

There was venom in the man’s voice as he spoke about himself, which immediately cut into Regan’s composure. She never expected this. He wasn’t… proud? Perhaps not at a moment like this, when secrecy was at stake, but he didn’t like what he was, how he looked? That was slow to sink in. The others at Saol Eile were always crowing with pride, screaming with it, and she was used to competitive displays of wings, comparing and complimenting. She never wanted any of it, but she couldn’t escape it. She assumed all fae must have been the same way. All of the ones she’d had the displeasure of meeting were. But there was him, this one, and something was very wrong with him in a way that, honestly, seemed right.

“You don’t like being –” The notion still made her mind reel. When she spoke again it was a statement, not a question. “You don’t like this. You wish you were like everyone else.” Years ago, there might have been some giddiness in her voice, some rejoicing at finally finding kinship, but she couldn’t access it now. It felt more like a kick than anything. Those first couple of years she went from other to other like she was seeking table scraps, hoping to hear that she could have normal, that she could have the life she wanted and the life she left, but as her grandmother said numerous times, some desires could only be met with a knife. Regan had excised her hopes and wants out of herself, slowly, methodically, and the thing that remained did not – would not – waste time wanting what it couldn’t have. Now she was faced with someone who mirrored that young, ignorant doctor, except he hadn’t gone shed his old self. He was the most sensible fae she’d met, and, perhaps, the most terrible and hardest to face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you – I’ve never met one like you before. Not the, um, goat… thing. The other thing.” Regan took a step back, uncertain. She hadn’t considered that she might have been crowding him before. That probably didn’t help with his focus. Especially since he looked like he could barely stand on his own legs. She had questions about that, but now seemed like a bad time. Her uncertainty was uncomfortable, and she needed to discard it. Regan swallowed thickly, her eyes darting away from the man’s strange antlers and fixating on a particular brick that jutted out from the side of the building. Her fingers twitched, and she could almost feel the blade between them. Regan’s voice was hollow and flat when she spoke again. “Banshee. It means I don’t have a say in what I want. It means I gave up being a person when I gave up being human.” 

If she looked taken aback by his attitude, Conor didn’t immediately see it. He wasn’t ever good at spotting those things, because he didn’t look at people’s faces often, and because right now, he was still in a state of limbo. The adrenaline wouldn’t come down, and he couldn’t help but think again of what just happened. What if the car hadn’t swerved. What then? He was about to step aside, to react, but… Her voice, thank God, brought him out, for a bit, of his trance. “I don’t like being the main attraction to a freakshow circus?” He heard it before. He had heard his dad tell him how proud he was to see that ‘his son’ (Conor regretted not being more violent back then) was a faun just like him. What a fucking nightmare. What a fucking bloody nightmare. Pride? How could you possibly be proud of being nothing like someone normal? 

Then and now, all he wanted was to have a normal life. 

“What other thing?” He fell silent for less than a second. He knew what she meant, even if it all was confusing now. “They’re all so fucking proud of being like that, heh?” There must have been a middle ground, somewhere being accepting who you are and feeling like the next best thing since easy-to-spread butter. 

She stepped away, his eyes settled on her shoes, if only to make sure that she wasn’t going to leave him there now. Yet, he appreciated her giving him back his space. He nodded quietly, if only to vehiculate his thankfulness. Now all he needed to do was keep his breathing steady, and to focus on what he wanted to hide. His legs would remain the same, his horns would still curl on the sides of his skull, but soon they'd be gone.

With a feeling of control, of some sort of control, he crossed her gaze again. At last she'd see him in a way he didn't mind being seen. 

"Banshee… I heard stories about you… back when I was a wee boy," he didn't quite smile, he didn't feel like it. Those stories always scared him back then. He wasn't sure how he felt now. "You too heh? It was nice, wasn't it. When things were simple ?"

The man was right – he did simply need to concentrate. Regan stayed quiet, letting him focus, knowing he probably hated having anyone see him like this. She wouldn’t bring up his appearance again. That would be easy to do, given how much she wanted to forget what she had seen. The horns dissolved away like they had never been there to begin with, nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination. That didn’t make seeing the process any less disturbing. Regan averted her eyes, somehow more stunned to have the horns and crooked legs gone than there to begin with. She had seen stranger, experienced stranger, but it was unpalatable all the same. “You fixed it.” Regan said simply, though regretted her choice of words immediately after. But they were true.

That same, eager part of her kicked again. Her thoughts wanted to pour out of an overflowing dam. I tried to remove my wings, I wanted to disfigure my larynx, I screamed for hours when I saw myself, I hate it, I hate them. But those couldn’t be her thoughts anymore, could they? No, they belonged to someone else. Someone lacking in discipline, purpose, and dignity. Someone who hadn’t yet been broken and built themselves up anew. That mousy, awkward doctor who died along with her father. Regan bit her tongue, tasting blood and wishing for a metallic tinge that never came. “Not about me, personally, I assume. You’re the only one here who knows.” Her eyes flicked toward the alley entrance, as if someone could have snuck toward them while they had been talking, then back to the man’s. “I don’t know whether to say the stories are probably true, or probably false. Things… felt simple. But they never were. It was always lurking, a pathology in my family’s lineage.” She hesitated, and ultimately decided not to explain further. The banshees didn’t like others knowing how the young ones started out – weak, powerless, and stupid. Her loyalty was to them.

“That… aside, are you alright? Did your life flash before your eyes?” A cliche, but one with some truth. Regan had found that her biggest and worst regrets came digging themselves out of the grave as she was digging her way in. But she was always pulled back out, or pulled herself back out, and the regrets stayed buried.

You fixed it. Damn right. “I did, thank fucking God,” the faun brushed his hand against the grey fabric, smoothing out wrinkles his actual legs might have left in it, then ran his fingers through his hair, as if it would make everything better. It made him feel better, and perhaps was this all that counted right now. His shoulders dropped and he rubbed his hands against his face. This was fine, no one had followed them, which meant that no one knew what the fuck they’d just seen was very much real, which meant that he’d be okay, because she was like him. 

It’s okay, he repeatedly told himself. It’s all okay. As long as he believed it to be true, it would be true. 

His eyes fell on her. She was quiet now. There wasn’t much going on in head then, and he wondered what was happening in hers. The silence was welcome though, and he almost felt regret when she spoke again. “Not about you, no. Just… Stories about the woman who wails for the dead,” he read stories about fauns too, many, more than he could possibly count, but none of those helped him make sense of who he was. It was always about who he was supposed to be, and it felt like reading an horoscope written by someone who didn’t give a shit. 

He glanced toward the entryway, “I won’t tell anyone about you, don’t worry.” His gaze dropped to the floor, which would be when it fell on his violin case. He hoped it managed to protect it… Squatting down to check on it, he looked up at her. “I found out when I was entering teenagehood, one day you’re perfectly fine, the next, you’re…” he didn’t have the heart to finish his sentence. What was there to say here? Pinching the strings on his instrument, he left out a sigh of relief as they rang out exactly like he wanted them. He did it a second time, if only to be sure, and with a shake of his head, answered her question quietly first. “I just froze. I think I thought of my mom, and my cat,” and the fact that he didn’t want to go just yet.

“I appreciate it.” Regan said, with no emotion. It didn’t matter whether or not she trusted him. He would stay true to his word, or he would not. And given their shared trauma, she wasn’t willing to attempt to bind him to his words. “I won’t tell anyone about you, either. I’ll pretend I never saw.” For a second, she tried to summon that mental image of the man’s legs, all bent in grotesque directions, but it wouldn’t come. It would be easy to repress. “A teenager, huh? Your entire life must have been uprooted.” It seemed young, but she had witnessed those much younger being forced into their nature. At Saol Eile, the standard age seemed to be around 4 or 5, though each family had their own customs and traditions. “I was twenty seven. I know I still look about that age. I’m not. There’s no going back. The only way is forward.” The fat rat scampered across the alley again. She wanted to blow it up.

“What do you have there?” Regan nodded toward the instrument in the man’s hands. It was clearly important to him, judging by how he clung to it when he was about to be struck by a car. More important than his beverage, at any rate. An alleyway hardly seemed to be an appropriate spot for something of such great importance to him. And now that his appearance was under control, they could depart. “Shall we? I need to replace my coffee.” 

“I appreciate it,” Conor repeated with the same deadpan air she sported moments ago. What was there to say about her anyway? He hadn’t seen her do anything out of the ordinary. Just two people having a chat, in an alleyway. 

“Yep, I was 13, nearing 14,” he sighed. He hadn’t told anyone about that. He supposed it made sense she knew something no one else knew of yet. “I left home around then,” the thought brought a smile to his face. Ironically, that had to be perhaps his saddest memory from childhood. Her words were an echo to his, except for the fact that he had kept aging ever since that day. “I’m not 13, obviously,” his expression had fallen back into the usual air of jadedness, as he told her of things that were simple. The truth was simple, memories weren’t so. “You’re right though, there really is no going back,” certainly no way back home for him. His family was aging normally, they’d be gone in a year, in a few decades for some others. And then it would just be him. 

He glanced over at the rat, then back at the violin in his lap. Putting it back into its case, he slung it over his shoulder and nodded along. “And I need to replace my cup of tea.” He paused. “I’m Conor.” 

Whatever the man’s story was, Regan was certain it was as pitiable as her own. Maybe more so, as the tethers between her past and present were ever-thinning. She felt sorry for her old self, and that was all. Regret was to be rejected and removed. He had gone through no such evolution, and she could see the sadness heavy around his eyes even as he tried to stuff it away. She had questions about his childhood, his family, and how he managed to get through each day, but she feared asking them. She was supposed to be bigger than her fear, but in this case, she knew addressing her emotions would only lead to so many more. And he deserved to move on, too. 

Regan tilted her head at the introduction. Before, there was some anonymity. She had shown too much of herself to someone, but that someone had been a stranger. And she’d seen too much of him, but without a name, who could she tell?

Conor, apparently, trusted her.

“Dr. Kavan–” 

Maybe she could extend a little bit back.

“Regan. I’m Regan.”

[frostcorpsclub]

The disability that both Typhon and his Aunt Jane have has been named! 

So I wanted to draw him to show how his chronic illness affects him and explore a bit of the disability rep in this verse. His ability of ice teleportation can help some but since his disability weakens all frozen solid aspects of his body he can't use it very often without becoming fatigued. Typhon still loves to explore as he gets older, walking, touching, smelling....tasting, although he's grown out of licking rocks. His family isn't the type to coddle and treat someone with his condition like glass (at least now that Jane's all grown up) so he's been taught how to defend himself the best that he can. Growing up he did see the wild and rambunctious things his cousins and aunts and uncles would do, he'd wonder if he'd ever find his own place, he especially wondered if Pop pop (Jack) and Grandpa (Santa) were disappointed with him when it became clear he might not be able to do the things they could. Nowadays though he enjoys riding on their shoulders and using his winter-strengthened crutches to break mailboxes.

It's probably not the safest idea but what his mommies don't know won't hurt em, raise your kids and spoil your grandkids as they say. The way he felt free during these times, the wind in his hair and the breeze soothing his wounds, got him thinking as he grew into his teen years. The supernatural world is vast and large but still underground for the most part, none of the family would ever get the chance to do things like drive....but they physically could. It took a lot of convincing and the help of his least responsible cousins but he’s cemented a modus operandi for himself. 

The key of the whole operation is human ableism. Even with the purple dead skin and dripping green liquid all humans see is some poor soul whose life must be oh so terribly awful! He waits on the side of the road for some abled savior's to whinge and wince at his condition enough to see stopping for him as a good idea.  Sometimes they’ll talk over him and jump to conclusions so he just goes right along with it until they take him to where he wants to go, he makes up a different story for why he looks the way he does every single time but it always has that “I was born with glass bones and paper skin” energy. Typhon will ask them to take him to an address that’s meant to be some kind of medical or houseless center but really leads to an empty parking lot. When the humans ask questions he struggles to get out and fakes tears to up the pity factor, making them get out after him to console him, at which point his cousins come out of the woods. Getting a whole car full of humans to take home for dinner makes their parents all very happy! The real fun part -and the whole reason Typhon came up with this plot- is taking the vehicle for a joy ride, he doesn't need a license when the whole point is running over people and crashing in a blaze of glory! 

He honestly scares his cousins a bit (not because of his face, because he screams and whoops while running over old people) at times but he's the best getaway driver mutant killer winterbeings could ask for.

[1nephthys]

Last car ride

Summary: Steve and y/n need to say their last goodbye and it's much harder than both of them thought before.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x y/n

Warnings: kinda sad, my awful English

Word count: 1.1k

Steve and y/n had a relationship almost all teenagers could only dream about. They had been together since freshman year and now they were month after graduation. At that point, they were unseparable. Or at least that was what everyone thought.

One thing in their relationship they both loved the most were their night car rides. Since Steve got his driver license he was taking y/n almost every night to drive somewhere. They explored every single place in Hawkins, saw the most amazing sunsets and sunrises from the boy's car. Sometimes they just talk. Sometimes y/n cried because of the rude costumes she needed to handle even when she already had a terrible day. Sometimes Steve cried because Dustin and the rest of the group got on his nerves a little bit too much. Sometimes they were stargazing and y/n explained Steve where specific constellation was and even though poor guy had no idea what the girl was talking about, he just loved listen to her while she talked with so much passion. Sometimes they were having sex (also really passionate in Steve liking).

But they both knew tonight was different. Steve drove to their favorite place, near the forest. Usually the way was filled with talking laughing or even little stolen gazed. Tonight y/n was sitting straight, looking at the road as well as Steve. They both knew they needed to talk. But also none of them wanted to start this conversation.

Steve parked the car and looked over at the girl beside him.He signed as she was still staring at the trees ahead of them.The silence in the car terrifies both of them, but it's easier to deal with it than to say one word that would start the talk.

"Look y/n-" Steve finally said but when his pretty girl looked at him, he just didn't know what he wanted to say. They talked about the feature before, all the senior year they knew that they had totally different plans, but it was too hard to admit it. Maybe that was a bad decision because maybe if they did talk about this earlier, they wouldn't be here. But maybe they wanted to spend as much time as they could together before it's all broken.

"I know, Steve. I- I- I just want to go to college.And I want to leave Hawkins, all the shit that happened here. Will and El moved away and I want to do the same." Y/h/c girl finally admitted.

Steve wanted to keep her here with him, but he couldn't. He couldn't be that selfish, knowing how dangerous this town was. He wanted to keep her safe and if it meant the need to let her go - he would do that.

"I know, I really do and I understand your decision. But I just can't leave. I feel like this is my place on earth. Will and El moved but Dustin, Lucas and Max are still there. And it may sound ridiculous but they need someone to take care of them." Brown eyed boy put his hand on y/n thigh as he continued. "I love you, okay? And I probably always will but I can't leave with you." At that point, they were both crying, y/n connected her fingers with Steve's and played with them.

She didn't say anything, she didn't need to. They both knew what that meant.They just sat there for some time, which felt like long hours, when in reality it was just fifteen minutes.

"I'm not sure if I want to live without you." Y/n spoke again, she was scared to tell him that because even after those years together, she was still afraid to talk about her feelings - even with him.

"I'm so sure you should. Hell, you are so smart and talented, you will make whatever college you are going to get higher in rankings. And we both know how dangerous this place is, I can't even count how many times one of us was close to being dead.And I really don't want you to die." He squished a girl hand, as always when he wanted to tell her he was there. "Y/n, you were- you are the love of my life-"

"-stop." Before Steve could continue she started sobbing. She didn't want him to keep saying he love her. She knew that and it was making all of it so much harder. "Promise me you are not going to die." Maybe that sounded stupid but as y/n stared at her boyfriend's eyes with tears on her cheeks, he knew she was serious.

"I promise you that when you come here for Christmas, holidays or whenever you want I will still be here.Whenever you want to talk." The boy secured her.They knew damn well that letters existed and they could try long-distance relationships but it scared both of them. They just know how busy life gets in college, not to mention how busy it is when you fighting monsters.

"Okay" Girl slowly nodded, looking at her hands as she tried to calm down, she wasn't able to look at the boy besides her, knowing damn well that she would burn out in tears again at their second eyes meet.

"C'mon." Steve said after he looked at the sky ahead of them.He quickly step out of the car and go to the other side to open the door for girls.

The sky was too pretty and the stars look too lovely for that painful night.

He offered y/n his hand, she looked at it and after a moment grabbed it. He helped her to get on the hood of the car and then get on it himself. It was almost like every other night. Both of them again sitting on this stupid hood, Steve's hands behind y/n's back. They stared at the wide and almost black sky. It was so calm, even though it was still Hawkins.

For a moment, Steve felt like it was all normal again. That they were going to sit there for a while, then y/n would say that they need to come back because she had school the next day and they came back to this car in fourteen hours to drive somewhere again. And y/n felt the same way. Like he was going to drive her home and kiss her so passionately on her porch. Tears were slowly rolling down their cheeks but none of them said anything. They just tried to enjoy this moment, since it's probably their last car ride.

A/n. It's first time I public anything I wrote on the internet so I'm sorry if it's shitty. Feel free to comment. I hope you enjoyed it. ~ Nephi

[siswritesyanderes]

Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

A rather melancholy reflection about my “college experience”. 1.6k words.

My father has said sometimes, that he wishes I could get a do-over for college, that I didn’t get the true college experience. I don’t disagree.

I’m about to graduate, this is my 5th year in college. Maybe I should be glad COVID happened in the middle of it, because a lot more people are in a similar boat, having taken fewer or no classes during the peak of COVID. That’s not why it took me 5 years, though, it’s taken 5 years because I started out as a part-time student for 2 years at a community college, then I’ve spent 3 years at a university. 

5 years of college, across community college and full universities sounds like I would get the college experience. But my father is right, I didn’t. 

The first two years were the worst. I didn’t have a car, I had such severe anxiety that when I tried to meet with an advisor before classes started, every time I had a panic attack and missed the meeting. At orientation everything went wrong, I didn’t have the log-in information I needed, I didn’t have my transcripts, I didn’t have a plan, I was misgendered the whole time, my mother who had come with me for support left in the middle of it because she didn’t want to be there.

Those two years were harrowing, but I made a few steps forward. For one, I made massive strides with my anxiety. On my first day of classes, I started to panic when I got to campus, I felt self-conscious, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. But then I realized, everyone else was in the same boat. I saw other people looking around nervously, or accidentally walking into the wrong class, or staring in confusion and maps. None of them could have cared less about how I was anxious and making mistakes, they were too caught up with their own anxiety. And that realization did more to help my anxiety than the years of therapy I went through.

The other main step I took was with gender, and realizing finally and fully that I didn’t want to be a man or a woman. And the final step was that I started finally deciding I wanted to dress Islamically. As a man I wore tunics or thawbs and kufis. And later started wearing headscarves and dresses and niqab.

I think finding one’s self is a college experience, but aside from that, the first two years I spent were awful. My GPA was terrible, I dropped classes and even had a professor drop me from a class. I didn’t have a drivers license at first, and needed to be driven to class by my parents. Then after my mother had a seizure, she started to go blind, and got her second DUI, I had to rely on family friends to drive me to class. Suburban moms who didn’t know me, who weren’t entirely comfortable with me, who didn’t know how to talk to me. When I got my drivers permit, I could drive to class but needed an adult in the car. My father worked out of state, my older brother lived a stone’s throw from Mexico and I lived in the midwest. So my only option was my mother. The one who I have a complicated relationship with, the one who got a DUI with me in the car when I was 14, the one who was at the time, at the lowest point in her alcoholism. I would have to take her with me to class, care for her as if I was the parent, check her purse, make sure she had no way to get the keys, make sure she didn’t have money to use to buy alcohol while I was in class. I vividly remember crying as I drove off campus one day, with my mother drunkenly yelling out the window at passing students accusing them of being drug dealers. I vividly remember another time when her mother came to class, and as we left she loudly made racist comments.

I don’t think that is part of the “college experience”.

There was a small cafeteria on campus with a few shops. I remember one day crying because I knew I was trying to buy lunch with a debit card with only $0.20 in my bank account. Maybe that’s closer to the college experience.

In that cafeteria, I burned my hand once. I had microwaved some meal, but with my cane, I only had one hand to use. I couldn’t grab the meal by the edges, and instead had to balance the scorching meal on the center of my hand. No one thought to help me. Every time I got a meal or heated on up between classes, I struggled to get to a seat and carry my food. In those 2 years no one ever stopped to help me. In those 2 years, I can count on one hand the number of times someone held a door for me. Most people were fine letting a door close on me.

My mother told my brother once that he needs to hold the door for every person. I mentioned that no one holds the door for me, and my mother said “Why would someone hold the door for you?”

When I transferred to the university I’m at currently. I got to live in a dorm, instead of my parent's house. Living in a dorm is a part of the “college experience”. 

The dorm I was in, I had 3 roommates. We each had our own bedroom, but the living area, kitchen, and bathroom we had to share. 

My roommates never talked to me. The one who did sometimes went away to study abroad after a semester. The other two moved out after the first semester. They didn’t leave the dorm, they moved in with other roommates. During the first semester, I was anxious, I wasn’t sure how to communicate with them. They never tried to talk with me. When I was in my room, I could hear them sometimes in the living room laughing, inviting over friends, having fun. When they saw me, they were silent. 

So I lived for that first semester like a stowaway. I only left my room when no one was in the main room. After I cooked something, I would scrub everything down and do the dishes immediately so I wouldn’t leave a trace. I tried to shave my face in the bathroom once, but one of them walked by. Roommates were all supposed to be the same gender, and I can’t help but think seeing my facial hair is what led them to move out. After I got caught shaving, I spent the next year and a half only shaving in my locked bedroom, pouring water into an old tupperware, sitting on my floor in the dark in front of a small mirror. 

The next semester I lived alone. Halfway through the semester, COVID hit. 

The next year, my roommates were kinder, we spoke and could hang out in the living room and watch movies. I had auditory hallucinations of them banging on my walls and door in anger, though. Awkwardly sat through watching transphobic movies with them. But that year was the closest I had to a real college dorm experience, even though it included being quarantined in the apartment for 2 weeks.

This year I have one roommate, the other 2 bailed right before the first semester. Neither of us are social. The most we interact is when I pet her cat sometimes.

For college itself, I didn’t get any of the experience. I went to classes, and went back to my dorm. I didn’t go to events, I didn’t join any clubs, I didn’t go down to main street where all the college students hung out at bars and coffee shops. For one, I couldn’t. Campus was inaccessible, I didn’t have a car, I was too disabled for public transit. Campus could drive me to class, but even then it was difficult to coordinate. It would have been nice to check out the Minorities in STEM club, or the Table Top RPG Club. But I couldn’t get to those events, I could barely get to class. The one time I was able to go to an event, a Latinx event I hoped to meet friends at, not a single person talked to me, there wasn’t even a seat for me at the table.

So I went to class (sometimes late, accessibility issues), endured stares and disrespect and hate from students and professors, I went back to my dorm. I would leave to work as a custodian in the dorm, cleaning up after my peers, gathering their trash, cleaning their bathrooms, enduring micro and magroagressions because of how “suspicious” I look. Collecting my barely livable wage. Then in the morning, go to classes and repeat the cycle.

I never partied, I never hung out on campus, I never watched a football game, I never visited the cafes and lounges, I never studied in the library, I never texted or called a friend, I never made a friend, I never had an internship, never got noticed for academic achievement, never befriended a professor. I never belonged.

I barely scraped by in classes. I worked a terrible paying job. I reported many hate crimes, but didn’t report most of them. I lost days and weekends to dissociation. I finished coursework while getting notifications of death threats online. 

A Bachelor of Science. 5 years in college. I won’t be attending graduation, I don’t want to pay for college regalia, I don’t want to have to deal with having to grovel for accessibility just to walk across a stage, I don’t want to receive a diploma disguised as the son my parents think they have. 

Maybe my father was right, maybe I didn’t get the college experience, maybe I deserve a “do-over”. But I don’t know who’s the blame for it, myself, or those around me.

[rocksandrobots]

Phantoms of the Past Chapter 14 - Reunions and Relatives Part 2

"Bye! See you at the Lucky Cat!" Honey Lemon waved as she and the rest of Tadashi's friends left the hospital.

Tadashi waved them goodbye as he sat in the wheelchair in the lobby. He could probably have walked on his own, but it was standard procure at the hospital for outgoing patients, and who was he to complain about being chauffeured around.

"Ok, I need to speak with the front desk and fill out some paperwork, I'll be right back." Aunt Cass said.

"I can drive the car around if you want me to." Varian offered.

Aunt Cass hesitated. "Are you sure, I mean it's only the parking lot, but.."

"Oh come on, I get my license in like two weeks."

"According to California state law, all drivers with a learners permit must have a licensed adult in the car with them at all times." Baymax helpfully interjected. 

Varian gave the robotic nurse an annoyed look. 

Aunt Cass turned back to see the nurse at the front desk wave at her,  "Uhh.. okay, here's the keys. Baymax, you're the adult." She tossed the car keys to Varian who caught them easily, and briskly made her way to the waiting nurse.

"Come on, Baymax." Varian called after the robot as he too turned to leave.

"Downloading relevant safety protocols and driving regulations now." Baymax said as he followed the goggle-wearing teen.

Once both boy and robot were out of ear shot; Tadashi asked, "Sooo, what's up with..."

"Varian?" Hiro finished for him. He stood behind his brother holding on to the wheel chair as they both watched the mismatched pair leave. "Aunt Cass is foster-parenting him."

"Soo he lives with us now?"

"Yup."

"Where is he from, again?"

"Well, if anybody asks, it's former Soviet Russia... but in actuality he's from another dimension with an alternate past timeline."

Tadashi tried once again to absorb such a fantastical revelation and once again had trouble believing it, but he didn't argue. Instead he asked, "What time is he from then?"

"Umm... mid 1600s I think."

"Ooof... aaannd we're just trusting him to drive the car?"

"Yeeeaaahh... that may not have been one of Aunt Cass's better ideas."

....  "So where is he sleeping?"

"He's in the guest bedroom."

"The office in the back where Aunt Cass keeps the fold up rolling bed that squeaks?"

"Mmmh-mmmh. Aunt Cass offered to buy him a better mattress but he told her it was fine and not to worry about it. Then again, the guy sleeps like a rock. I've seen him snore the whole night through while sleeping on the ground. Nothing fazes him."

Tadashi chuckled at that. "And when do you have to sleep on the ground?" 

"Oh, Krei took us camping a few months ago." 

Tadashi paused and turned around in the wheelchair to look back at his brother in surprise. " You  went camping?" 

"Yeah, it was awful." Hiro said with a wide grin. "Aunt Cass talked Krei into dragging us both on a fishing trip. There were gross worms and bugs everywhere, the raccoon kept stealing all the food, and there was no internet. I almost lost my mind…. Though Varian did teach me how to climb a tree, and Krei bought us tacos afterwards; so I guess it wasn't all bad. " 

"Krei?" 

"Alister Keri. The ex-boyfriend. Who she still talks to for some reason despite dumping him ages ago." 

Tadashi's brow furrowed in thought as he tried to recall the name. "Alister Keri…. …. Wait, you mean the billionaire!? The one that wanted to buy your microbots and that got Professor Callaghan's daughter lost in the void? That  Keri ?" 

"Yup. That's the one. To be fair, he's not as horrible as he seems. I mean don't get me wrong, he's still absolutely terrible. But he's also not  the  worst. I-if that makes sense." 

"No, it does not make sense, and I for one want to know how he met Aunt Cass, why she dumped him, and why is she still friends with him if she's the one that kicked him to curb?" 

Hiro shrugged. "I've been interning at Keri Tech this year, and they kind of met through me. She dumped him because he's awful, as previously stated. And as for why she still speaks to him; she still apparently likes him, I guess? I don't know."  

Tadashi had nothing to add to this and so he simply shrugged his shoulders and sat back around in the wheelchair; filing away this latest revelation along with all the other crazy things he had heard that day. 

That's when Aunt Cass came back. "Ready to go?" 

"Yes, please; take me to someplace that's normal." Tadashi joked as Hiro rolled him outside.

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

"Be sure to look all around the car when preparing to back out of a parking space. Check for children and pedestrians before backing up."

"Yes, Baymax, I know." Varian said as he backed the car out of the parking space, before driving away.

"The speed limit is 15 mph in a California parking lot."

"Yes, Baymax, I know." 

They soon reached the end of the parking deck and Varian slowed as he waited on the other cars to scan their tickets at the gate. 

"You should allow at least five feet between your vehicle and the vehicle in front of you when coming to a complete stop." 

"Yes, Baymax, I  know ." Varian gritted his teeth as pulled the ticket off the dash and scanned at the gate. 

They made it only a few feet further before having to stop again and wait on the other cars as the line slowly made its way to the pickup area. 

"If you approach a pedestrian crossing at a corner or other crosswalk, you are required to exercise caution and reduce your speed, or stop if necessary, to ensure the safety of the pedestrian." 

"Gah! Baymax we're in a line! I can't  do  anything!" 

Varian rested his elbow on the lip of the door window as he cupped his chin and rolled his eyes towards the heavens in exasperation. 

"You appear to be agitated." Baymax calmly pointed out. 

"You think!?" Varian sarcastically laughed. 

The robot only 'blinked' at him as if trying to comprehend the teenager's defensiveness. 

"Would you like to talk about what is upsetting you?" 

"How about, I have a know-it-all automaton for a backseat driver?" 

"Do you no longer wish for my assistance?" 

There was no emotion to the robot's voice, but Varian felt guilty anyways. 

"No, no, of course I'm grateful for your help. You… you're really good... aaaat remembering things." 

"That is in my programming." 

"Well, thank you, and I'm sorry I snapped at you. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." 

"I do not have feelings. I am a robot. But if your apology makes you feel better I will accept it." 

"You… you never feel anything… ever, do you?" 

"I can not." 

"Sooo you don't know what it's like to be happy or sad?" 

"I understand the biochemical process that causes these feelings." 

"Yeah, but you've never experienced it." 

"No." 

"So… so you never get scared either?" 

"Fear is caused by the primitive flight or fight reflex in the brain. It is a defense mechanism that humans have developed for survival. I have no such need, and so I haven't any similar processing in my code." 

"So you never worry about what might happen to you, or to people you care about?" 

"Caring about the well-being of those around me is my primary objective." 

"Ok, but what do you do if they no longer need you to care for them?" 

Baymax tilted his head. "I do not understand." 

"Hiro just got his brother back. Tadashi's alive. Your primary directive' has been fulfilled.

Aren't you worried that they might forget you? D-deactivate you and leave you; shut you away in your storage box?" 

There was a pause as Baymax processed this. 

"I am not worried." He finally said. 

"Because you don't feel?" 

"Because one does not need to be useful to be wanted." 

Varian's eyes went wide as this latest revelation came crashing through his carefully constructed walls. 

He did a double take before tearing his eyes away from Baymax and focusing on the road ahead, unsure of what to say.

Fortunately, the line was beginning to move once more. 

"Do you fear being forgotten?" 

Varian didn't answer. 

"I won't forget you." 

Varian continued to stare ahead. 

"After all, I am very good at remembering things." Baymax finished.  

Varian did another double take. "D-did, you just tell a joke?" 

"I believe I did." The robot said, and for a moment Varian thought that the robot sounded pleased with himself. 

Varian chuckled. "Baymax, maybe you do have emotions. You just don't express like we do." 

"Perhaps… perhaps robots have 'robotic emotions'? Not like people do. We do not need to survive, but we do have a need to fulfill our programming." 

"Well I got news for you. Humans have a need to fulfill our own programming, and that's to be with other people. There's nothing worse than being alone." 

"Indeed, humans are social creatures. Though I suppose in this way robots are not much different. Especially since humans made us. We are built to be companions." 

"Well, I am glad that you were built then." 

"And I am glad that we are only going three miles an hour. We are about to hit the car in front of us." 

"Wha- Woah!" Varian slammed on the breaks just in time to prevent a fender bender. He leaned back in his seat and breathed a sigh of relief. "How about we don't tell Aunt Cass about this?" 

"Agreed."

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

"Here we are! Home sweet home! Just as you left it!" Aunt Cass cheered as she pulled into the Lucky Cat.

"Finally." Tadashi breathed as he got out of the car. "It's been a long day. I can't wait to eat a good meal, shower, and hit the bed-"

Tadashi paused as he opened the garage door. Sitting in the middle of the garage was a large tank full of water with a lobster sitting in it; half covered with a tarp.

Varian rushed forward and tried to recover the makeshift aquarium; to no avail as Aunt Cass saw anyways.

"What is the lobster still doing here, Varian?" Aunt Cass sighed.

Varian shuffled his feet as he vainly tried to block the lobster from view. The lobster only scuttled to the other end of the tank.

"Well, you see, I took him back to the pier just like you said Aunt Cass, but, but there were already a bunch of fishermen there and I just knew if I released him then they would catch him. So I thought I could keep him here for a little while... I just haven't gotten around to releasing him yet?"

Aunt Cass folded her arms in disapproval.

Tadashi walked over and placed a comforting hand on Varian's shoulder. "Don't take it too hard, Aunt Cass wouldn't let me keep a pet either."

Just as he said this, Ruddiger ran out of the cat door and eagerly climbed up Varians back and rested on his shoulders.

Tadashi blinked in surprise and backed away.

"Have you met Ruddiger?" Hiro asked with a smug smile. "He's Varian's pet."

Varian hugged his raccoon to his chest in comfort as Tadashi flung Aunt Cass and accusing glare.

"You wouldn't even let me get a dog, but he gets to keep this thing?" He pointed at Ruddiger.

"Oh, for the last time a Tibetan Mastiff is too big to keep in the house." Aunt Cass defended as she gave Ruddiger an affection scratch behind his ears. "Besides, Ruddiger is cute. The customers love him... when he's not stealing their food that is."

"Which is usually..." Hiro quipped, the smug smile never leaving his face.

"Oh and a puppy wouldn't be cute?" Tadashi argued back.

"Not when it grows up to be taller than me." Aunt Cass shot back. "Besides, what would even do with him?"

"Love him."

Aunt Cass wasn't having it. "It wouldn't be fair to keep him cooped up in the house. Dogs need room to run around in play."

"Oh and what do racoons need?"

"Trash?" Hiro butted in.

Everyone turned to look at him in annoyance, but his grin only grew wider.

"That's it. We're keeping the lobster." Tadashi announced as he hugged the tank.

"Tadashi.." Aunt Cass sighed.

"No. You wouldn't let me have a dog. So now, Mr.. uhh."

"Lorenzo." Varian whispered.

"Mr. Leronzo is my pet now."

Aunt Cass flung up her hands in defeat. "Fine. You can keep the lobster. But if I catch him running around my restaurant again he's going to a vat of butter, understand?"

Varian and Tadashi shared joyous grins while Aunt Cass walked inside the kitchen. Hiro eyed them both like they were crazy before following after.

"I love you Lorenzo." Tadashi loudly whispered to the lobster as he hugged the tank once more, if for no other reason to tease Hiro, before heading inside.

Only for him to find some strange woman sitting in the cafe, sipping a cup of tea.

"Professor Granville?" Aunt Cass asked, "H-how did you get in?"

"You forgot to lock the front door." The woman said plainly before taking another sip of her tea. "Don't worry, I did it for you, and you'll find the money for the tea in the til."

Aunt Cass plastered on a thin smile and leaned over the chair in front of her. "Hmmm... and you couldn't think to tell me which one of my nephews was in the hospital?"

"Would you have believed me if I did?" Granville asked.

"No, I guess not." She admitted and slumped into the chair with a sigh. It had been a very tiring day.

"Are you here to get on to us for setting the lab on fire?" Hiro asked.

"Actually, I'm here to speak with Tadashi." Granville said. She got up and offered her hand. "I'm Professor Granville, newest headmaster of the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Tadashi shook her hand. "Nice to meet you Professor."

"Tell me, are you interested in returning to school?"

"Yeah, of course. I wanna get things back to normal as soon as possible."

"I understand." Granville nodded. "We're already a month into the new semester, but you could possibly catch up if you went part time. Maybe take this as an opportunity to knock out a few of your needed elective credits, hmm?"

Tadashi nodded his head as he processed this information. Already his mind was whirling with plans of the future and thinking what classes he'd like to take.

"Excellent!" Granville smiled. "Come and see me in my office on Monday. We'll get you enrolled then. Nine o'clock sharp."

Then she turned back towards Hiro and Varian. "Now, as for you two..."

Both boys shrank back from her glare.

"How did you do it?"" She excitedly whispered.

"D-did what?" Varian asked.

"Invented time travel, of course!" Granville's smile became so wide it threatened to split her face and both teens were completely thrown for a loop. "Come, come, it's the only way you could have pulled this off."

"We modified Varian's spatial portal." Hiro explained.

"Brilliant!" Granville proclaimed. "I expect a detailed and thorough research paper on your work by the end of the semester from the both of you. Ooooh, I feel a Nobel prize is on it's way!" She laughed as she gathered her purse. 

"Oh, won't you stay for dinner?" Aunt Cass offered. 

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid I have far too much to do. I must call the editor of the Scientific American Magazine. They'll want to know about this. See you later, ta-ta." She waved goodbye and was out the door; leaving a very dumbfounded family in her wake.

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

The Hamada home was filled with laughter and friendly chatter as everyone gathered at the table to eat.

They had breakfast for dinner; eggs, bacon, bagels, and lots and lots of celebration pancakes. Aunt Cass had made triple the batter; and given how many mouths there were to feed, it was for the best.

"Whatcha working on?" Fred asked with his mouth full as he leaned over to see what Tadashi was sketching on his notepad as he ate.

"I'm trying to design a portable aquarium." Tadashi said with a grin.  

"Why would you wanna build something like that?" Wasabi asked.

"Because we just got a brand new pet lobster." Tadashi smugly proclaimed with glee.

"Where on earth did you get a pet lobster?" Gogo asked with disbelief.

"Varian caught him down by the docks." Hiro answered. "And then accidently let him loose in the cafe."

Varian ducked his head down and stuffed his face with more scrambled eggs in embarrassment.

"And despite reeking havoc wherever it goes. Tadashi wants to keep it as a pet." Aunt Cass said with a tight smile as she started to collect the dirty dishes.

"I'm going to build him a motion controlled tank so that I can take him on walks." Tadashi explained with a wide smile, as Aunt Cass walked back into the kitchen.

"Aww, cuuute!" Honey Lemon exclaimed.

"Not even a single day back from the dead and he's already building the means for a crustacean army." Wasabi rolled his eyes, before breaking into a smile. "Boy, is it good to have you back."

"Yeah, we've missed you buddy." Fred agreed. "And I, for one, approve of our new lobster overlords."

Tadashi snickered at that, but still felt awkward at the attention. "So what about you? What have you guys been up to?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Well, I found out that my dad is a superhero from the seventies, and my mom used to be his arch rival before turning good. My butler is a British secret agent. And I am now carrying on the family business."

Tadashi just stared blankly at Fred for a minute before asking, "Ok does anybody have something not weird to talk about?"

"Varian and I built a car." Gogo answered. "Which I still have to call the tow truck for."

"Uh.... I think Aunt Cass may need help with the dishes." Varian muttered before grabbing his plate and heading into the kitchen.

Everyone watched him go.

"Oookay, then." Tadashi said, clearly lost."How about you, Wasabi?"

"Oooh, Sam and I started dating this month!" Wasabi gushed.

"Sam? The guy from our computer programming class? The one who wears a pocket protector all the time?"

"Uh-huh" Wasabi nodded and his smile grew even wider.

"Well good for you man. I'm happy for ya." Tadashi congratulated him. "What about you, Honey Lemon? Have you gotten yourself out there again? Seeing anybody new?"

"Oh, no." Honey Lemon shook her head. "I've been much too busy to date anybody. I started taking classes at the Art Institute this year; that, plus my two jobs, and hanging out with friends keeps me exhausted."

"But what about that time you went to Paris with Varian?" Fred asked.

"Wait. When did you two go to Paris?" Aunt Cass blurted out, as she walked back out of the kitchen right when Fred had spoken. 

Honey Lemon shrank in her chair, looking for all the world like she wanted to disappear.

There was an awkward pause as no one wanted to answer.

Wasabi threw his hands up. "Don't look at me. For once I don't know anything."

Aunt Cass tilted her head and waited for an answer. When none came she asked again, "Paris? As in Paris,  France ?"

Honey Lemon meekly nodded yes.  

Aunt Cass looked stunned a moment more before turning on her heel and heading back through the kitchen door. " Varian !?"

Everyone avoided eye contact after she left. Fred started whistling as he looked towards the ceiling innocently, and Hiro tried to hide a sly smile as he took a drink from his glass of milk. 

Tadashi raised a single eyebrow at Honey Lemon as he fought back his own smug smile."Paris?" 

"We were just testing out the portal. It wasn't like an actual date." She mumbled. 

As if to confirm this Varian walked out of the kitchen followed by Aunt Cass. 

"Listen, nothing happened." He insisted as he gathered up more dishes. "All we did was test out the portal and it worked." 

Aunt Cass wasn't having it as she placed her hands on her hips. "And what exactly did you do while there?" 

"Sightseeing, shopping; then we had dinner at the hotel and went to sleep." 

"The hotel?" Aunt Cass asked Asher eyes went wide. 

Hiro snorted into his cup of milk; unable to stifle his laughter. 

"Uh…" Varian paused as he realized he had said the wrong thing. " So we had to get a hotel room for a night cause t-the return lever broke… but it's okay, Fred gave us a lift back and I totally fixed it since then… ahhh ow!" 

He winced as Aunt Cass pinched his ear and started to drag him back towards the kitchen. 

Once gone, all eyes turned back towards Honey Lemon as her face turned a deep crimson. 

"Okay, well I just remembered I have a drawing assignment to do tomorrow, so I better go!" She proclaimed with a forced smile as she suddenly stood up and grabbed her purse. "Wasabi, do you mind giving me a lift?" 

And without waiting for an answer, she hooked her arm around his elbow and started to drag him away from the table. 

"Ahhh… o-oh okay.." He said as it became clear that Honey Lemon wouldn't give him a choice. He managed to nab one final pancake off his plate and shove it into his mouth before fishing his keys out of his pocket. 

"Well, I had a nice time. It was great to see you again, Tadashi. Glad you're not dead. Bye-bye!" Honey Lemon called out quickly and rushed out the door. 

"Mhmm-hmmm, I'm mvery galdm ummm arm mack." Wasabi hummed with his mouth full. 

"Wait! You're my ride, remember!?" Fred yelled. He hurriedly shoveled the last of his meal into his mouth before running after them. 

"Hey Fred, don't forget your phone." Tadashi called, as he grabbed the phone from the table. 

He met Fred at the door and handed him the forgotten cell. 

"Thanks, man." Fred pocketed the phone before turning to leave again. However he stopped, and then paused as if suddenly realizing something. After a second he turned right back around and threw himself at Tadashi. 

" I can't believe my bestest buddy is back! " He cheered as he clung to the other teen, hugging him as if he were trying to climb a tree. Tadashi had to hold Fred up in order to keep them both from falling to the ground. 

"It's good to see you, too, buddy." Tadashi replied with a grunt, as he tried to carry Fred's weight. 

Finally Fred let go and wiped his nose with the back of his hand as he sniffled and smiled. "I missed you. We all have." 

Then he heard Wasabi crank the car. Fred rushed out the door just in time to see his friends starting to drive away. He took off running after them. "Hey, come back!" 

Tadashi watched them all leave with a chuckle. His friends were crazy, but that's what he liked about them. 

"I should probably get going too." Gogo said as she looked at the time on her phone. "I need to call the tow truck to pick up Varian's car." 

"What did he do to it?" Hiro asked. 

"Nothing, just cut the fuel line while driving through the woods off road." Gogo answered dryly as she got up. 

"Then why not have him pay for it?" Tadashi asked. 

Gogo gave him and Hiro a small secretive smile. "Cause I owe him one." 

Tadashi tilted his head in confusion as she slid past him through the doorway. He ran after her. 

"Uh, Gogo?" 

She stopped by her bike and waited on him. 

Tadashi paused as he felt all of his confidence from earlier fall away. "Ummm, sooo, speaking of dating…. I know things didn't turn out like we had planned earlier… b-but I was hoping if… if you still wanted to go see a movie with me… like before… unless… unless you don't want to, now, or you've met someone else, which-I-totally-fine-with-if-you-did, only not really… buuuut I know… some time has clearly past since then and-" 

Gogo rolled her eyes and softly laughed at his rambling. "You're such a dork." 

He stopped and looked at her in surprise, unsure if he had completely blown his chances or not. 

She walked up to him and gave him a quick peck on his lips.

Tadashi stood there stunned for a moment. 

Gogo had kissed him! 

"Next Friday," she whispered,"and don't do anything stupid untill then." 

She gave him a gentle punch in the arm, knocking him out of his stupor. 

He gave a giddy laugh as he fought and failed to keep the stupid smile off his face. "Hey, you know me better than that." He joked. "I'll have done like a million stupid things by the time Friday rolls around, but I'll be there. Promise." 

"You better." She said with a crack in her voice. However all she did was give him another smile before saddling her bike and driving away. 

Tadashi waved after her as she left, his heart jumping in his chest.  She'd kissed him!

He couldn't wipe the dumb grin off his face as he walked back inside the cafe and slumped back into his chair. 

Hiro gave him a smug smile. "She kissed ya did she?" 

"Yeah…" Tadashi smiled. 

"Well there's no accounting for taste I guess?" Hiro quipped. 

Tadashi chuckled, "Oh like you're a great catch. What about you mister pre-teen? Are you dating anybody?" 

"That's mister  teen  to you. I turned fifteen a few months back, and no I'm currently not seeing anybody… yet." 

Tadashi's heart dropped. "I missed your birthday?" 

Hiro shrugged off his concern. "It's alright. I found your gift anyways… or rather Varian found it and made sure it got to me. You're such a dork." 

"Yeah, that's what Gogo just said… Geez, you run into a fire one time and suddenly you're uncool forever." 

"Face it, Tadashi, you were never cool to begin with." Hiro snorted. "Mister 'I go to nerd school.'"  

"Hey, you go to that nerd school too now." Tadashi grinned. "You gotta come up with new material." 

Hiro couldn't come up with a retort to that and soon just broke down into snickers. Tadashi laughed right along with him. 

"God, I missed you." Hiro said as they laughed. "I missed this. Just talking… I can hardly believe you're back." 

He blinked back tears and gave a pained smile. Tadashi suddenly felt guilty. Though he still wasn't ready to fully acknowledge how much time had passed, so he tried to change the subject once more. 

"So what do you mean by, yet? You got a crush on someone?" 

"Weeeell… there is this one girl…" 

Before Hiro could finish, Aunt Cass and Varian came out of the kitchen. 

"....Aunt Cass you don't have to-" Varian paused and looked around. "Where did everybody go?" 

"Uh..Honey Lemon bailed, and she took everyone with her." Tadashi informed him. 

Varian frowned.  

"We're going and that's final." Aunt Cass interrupted, steering the conversation back to task.

"Going where?" Hiro asked. 

"I'm taking your brother to the store, and we're having a serious lecture on responsibility and consequences, while on the way there." She gave Varian a pointed look as she said this and Varian looked as if he wished he could sink into the ground. "Can you and Tadashi finish the dishes for me?" 

"Sure." Hiro nodded.  

"Thanks." She shouldered her purse as she headed towards the door. Varian followed after, still protesting. 

"Aunt Cass, please. I'm begging you. Can you, can you just ground me instead? Have me do more chores maybe... I could… I could.. run the cafe for a week! Do all dishes plus the cooking! Or even mend the roof! I could fix the shingles-" 

"You're not getting out of this that easily." She sighed. 

"Oh come on, even you have to admit that this is cruel and unusual punishment. Killing me would be kinder." 

Aunt Cass gave him a disbelieving look. "You'd rather be dead than be embarrassed!?" 

Varian paused. "Weeeelll… when you put it that way…" 

Aunt Cass rolled her eyes to the heavens. "Car. Now." 

Varian huffed. "Aunt Cass, I'm a grown man now! I don't need to buy me co-oww!" 

His whining was cut short by another pinch of his ear. 

"What was that about?" Hiro asked as soon as they were gone. 

Tadashi shrugged his shoulders and hummed 'I don't know'.... Before pausing as realization hit him.

"Wait. Did she just refer to him as our brother?"

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

Tadashi ran his toothbrush under the running faucet before placing it back in it's cupholder on the sink. Then he sighed and leaned forward as he rested his hands on each side of said sink. He looked up and studied his reflection in the mirror. 

He was wet from having just gotten out of the shower and his night clothes clung to him as the bathroom still steamed from the hot bath. He traced the frown lines on his face and then looked down at his bandaged arm; the only reminder he had of the fire. 

He had hoped that things would go back to normal when he got home. That he could go on with his life as if nothing had happened. Yet that was proving to be increasingly impossible. 

Try as he might, he couldn't ignore the fact that a whole year was just missing from his life now. No matter how much he pretended to act nonchalant, the reminders simply kept piling up. 

It had finally sunk in just how much time had passed when he saw his bedroom.

It was covered in dust. 

When he had left the house that morning he had just cleaned it. Now, only a few hours later he had to clean everything again, including putting new bedsheets on. He hadn't even gotten to sleep in the last bed he had made. 

It was unnerving. 

Fortunately, both Hiro and Baymax had helped out and it didn't take long to tidy everything back up again. 

It would take far longer to straighten out his life. 

Then there was the new kid. 

He and Aunt Cass had returned home from the store just a short while ago. 

The poor guy looked so tired and embarrassed. Especially when Hiro started teasing him. 

"So how did it go?" His brother had smugly quipped as he curiously tried to peek into the bag Varian was carrying. 

He absolutely knew how it was going.

Varian slowly closed his eyes. "Just put me out of my misery, please?" He whispered. 

"Why, cause Honey Lemon ditched you and Aunt Cass forced you to have 'the talk.' Hiro slyly smiled. 

"Now that's enough," Aunt Cass interpreted before an argument could break out. "Leave Varian alone, unless you also want to have 'the talk.'" 

That shut up Hiro real quick. Tadashi had to snicker at that, only to cough and swallow his laughter when Varian looked at him with his wide big blue eyes. 

Tadashi hoped he hadn't offended the kid, it's just, he too remembered receiving the same lecture from Aunt Cass when he had been seventeen. Which wasn't that long ago but it felt like a lifetime away. And it wasn't helped by the fact Tadashi now felt like a stranger in his own home. 

Everyone treated this teen from another world, with his pet raccoon and seemingly never ending mishaps, as just another member of the family; as if he had always been there, and the fact that Tadashi  didn't  know him seemed not to matter at all. 

The consequence of all this meant that it was Tadashi who wound up feeling as if  he  was the one from another world. Like he had slipped through some alternate crack in time and wound up someplace that was similar to his home, but yet different. 

That wasn't too far off the truth, actually. He was supposed to be dead in this world. 

Tadashi shivered at the thought.

Tadashi had never given his own mortality much thought before now, but the knowledge that he had almost experienced death himself weighed heavy on his mind…. What came after?

He shook his head, as if to empty his mind of such unsettling thoughts. He needed to stop brooding and get some sleep. 

He opened the door to the bathroom and made his way down the hall towards the stairs. 

He jumped when he caught something scurrying about, out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he thought he saw six eyes glinting at him in the dark, and these 'eyes' were attached to something tall and shapeless. 

Until his own eyes adjusted to the dark that is, and he saw that it was actually Varian standing in the kitchen. The kid had been rummaging around looking for a snack. The extra 'eyes' had only been his goggles that he still wore on his head and his pet raccoon who was perched on top of that. 

Both teen and wild animal, looked at him, unmoving, with wide unblinking eyes; as if he had stumbled upon a deer in the woods. Varian held a half eaten piece of toast in his mouth. A jar of peanut butter with a spoon was in his left hand, and his right hand still held the loaf of bread. 

For one bewildering second, they just stood there, silently staring at one another. Then Varian bolted from the kitchen and ran down the hallway to his room. He was already slamming his bedroom door close before Tadashi could react. 

The kid was quick. He had to give him that. 

Tadashi gave one last confused look at where the other teen had been before heading upstairs. 

"Soooo… the new guy, Varian, is he always so… feral?" Tadashi asked Hiro as he entered the bedroom that they shared. 

Hiro looked up from his text book. 

It was weird seeing his brother reading a textbook, Tadashi thought. 

"The guy has a pet raccoon. What do you think?" Hiro replied. 

Tadashi nodded his head as he realized it has been a stupid question to ask. 

"Are you studying for school?" He said instead. 

"Actually, I'm going over our notes for the portal. If Granville wants us to write a thesis paper on time travel, I'm going to have to organize things so that they're actually legible. Varian writes about as well as he drives." 

Tadashi could only shrug at that. "I thought I'd never see the day where  you  would be doing homework." 

"Well, you're the one that encouraged me to go to your nerd school." Hiro smiled.

"Yeah, and I'm real proud of you for doing so." Tadashi smiled back. "And when I start back next week we'll be classmates." 

He lauded down on his bed and snuggled his head against the pillow. "See you in the morning, Hiro." He yawned. "Night Baymax." 

"Good night." The robot said before powering down. 

Tadashi hadn't been asleep long when jolted away to find Hiro standing over him. 

His brother looked as if he was close to crying. 

"Do you mean it?" He asked with a sob. 

"Me-mean what?" Tadashi asked, confused. 

"That you'll be here?" 

"I don't know what yo-" 

"You said, 'see you in the morning'. That means you'll be here tomorrow morning, right?" 

"Suuuure?" 

"I- I'm not going to wake up and find you gone? I mean, I'm not going to get up in the morning and find out this has all been a dream, right? You're really here? You're really back! You're home, a-and we're all together…"

Now Hiro really was crying. 

Tadashi blinked as he tried to think of something to say but the words just wouldn't come. 

Hiro sniffed and rubbed his nose on his sleeve as he continued to sob. "I.. I'm sorry. I don't know… I don't know why I said that. That was dumb. Of course you're back. You  have  to be back. Because… be-because, I can't go through this again." 

Tadashi's stomach plummeted. What had Hiro been through? What had happened without him? Oh yeah, he had  died . He had died and everyone he knew had to deal with that. 

"Hiro, I'm…. I'm sorry." Tadashi sat up. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm really here, honest. See?" 

He held out his arm, and Hiro hesitantly squeezed it. 

"See? Really here." He repeated calmly. 

Hiro broke down crying even harder and flung his arms around Tadashi's neck. 

For a moment, Tadashi didn't know what to do. He couldn't remember a time when Hiro had ever been this distraught. Not since he was super little. Not since he had gotten the news that Mom and Dad weren't ever coming home…. 

Tadashi returned the hug. 

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." 

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 2)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1436

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​ and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​ and @arrow-guy​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in the early afternoon, your parents greeted you with a bit of a chuckle.

“Stay up too late with Jenny?” your mom asked with a teasing smirk. It was a habit of yours and Jenny to probably stay up way past your bedtime, but so long as it wasn’t a school night, your parents never cared.

“Actually… I.. uh, have some news,” you announced as you grabbed some bacon for a BLT that they’d made for lunch.

“Oh?” your dad asked, his eyes still on his laptop. “What’s that?”

“So… Jenny was kind of joking around last night and said that I should try to write on my arm, you know… to see if I had a soulmate…” you began explaining, twisting your fingers around nervously as you sat at the table.

Your parents just looked at you curiously.

“Well, so I did. I wrote something on my arm, and I waited to see if someone would write back… and they did,” you said, showing them your arm. They saw the ‘Happy Birthday’, and the ‘Hi there’, with a smiling face.

“A soulmate?” your dad echoed, looking at your arm inquisitively.

“We’ve never had soulmates in the family, have we, dear?” your mom wondered as she looked over her cup at her husband.

“Not that I know of. Well what do you know about that?” he mused. “I don't see any more marks on your arms, did your mate not write back much last night?”

“No, we actually emailed. We thought it would be best if we reserve our skin.. You know, we don’t want a bunch of… tattoos of each other unless they’re meaningful.��

“Sounds sensible,” your mom noted with a smile. “So what do you know about them?”

“He’s a grad student. He’s 21. He graduated from Harvard at 16, and get this, he’s into psych. He studies it.”

“Graduated at 16?” your dad asked. “Are you sure this guy isn’t pulling your leg? What if he’s some bum?”

“If he is some bum, he’s got a great education. We stayed up all night emailing, and he’s quite well-read.”

“That sounds fantastic, honey. And, did you get his name?” she asked, a bit nervous.

You shook your head. “No, we agreed it wasn’t safe.”

“Good girl,” your mom commended.

“He’s 21, hmm?” your dad hummed. “Isn’t that a little old?”

“Oh, Anthony, don’t pretend like that’s some big gap. You and I have five years between us,” your mom reminded as she got up to pick up the kitchen.

“Yeah well we didn’t meet in high school either. We were adults.”

“I’d hardly call us adults. We were 23 and 28.”

Your dad just shook his head. “You just be careful, kiddo. Soulmate or not, there are weirdos out there.”

“Of course, Dad,” you said.

Well, that was out of the way. Your parents didn’t seem to be too upset, which was good.

You went upstairs to your room and sent an email to X.

“My parents know about us now,” you wrote.

“Do they approve?”

“They’re worried you’re a liar and a weirdo, lol,” you confessed with a smiley face.

“They might be right ; )”

“I reminded them that we won’t ever swap information until one of our names shows up.”

“Of course. As tempted as I am to meet you like a normal person, I don’t want to tamper with fate.”

“I feel the same. And your parents? Have you told them?”

“My parents have died. Happened a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s awful.”

“It’s sad, yes, but don’t let that bring down your mood, please. I miss them terribly. I bet they would’ve loved to meet you.”

“I would’ve loved to meet them.”

“Speaking of, we need to get registered.”

Registered? For what? A marriage license?

Then it hit you.

“Oh, you mean the soulmate registry?”

“That’s the one. Do you have access to it?”

“Yeah, I can just drive to it. It’s at the clerk’s office, right?”

“Yes, it is. Oh, I need to go, Y/F/I. I’ll talk to you later. Feel free to send me emails throughout the day.”

“Will do, X. I’ll go to the registry on Monday, after school.”

“Looking forward to it.”

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

The following afternoon, you went to the county clerk to file for a soulmate. You arrived at the building, stood in line, and finally, it was your turn. You were greeted by an older woman with a permanent scowl on her face.

“Can I help you?” she asked evenly.

“I, uh, I need to get registered for a soulmate?” you said tentatively. You had no idea how this part of the process went.

She eyed you up and down. “Very well, come with me.” She turned around and started to walk away from the counter and you looked around to see if you were supposed to follow. Since no one seemed to be stopping you as you inched towards the small opening in the counter, you went ahead and followed her.

“Do you have a driver’s license?” she asked once she reached a little podium against a wall.

You didn’t answer, instead you quickly searched your purse and wallet to retrieve the ID. She took it from you but before she did anything she asked you to show you the markings.

“I got these, on my arm,” you informed as you pushed your arm forward, your arms exposed.

“I’m just checking to make sure they aren’t tattoos,” she mused as she eyed them and scanned them with a small device that emitted purple light, you assumed it was a UV light or some form of it. “Alright, that all looks good.” With that, she turned to a computer and pulled up a file, scanning your driver’s license that filled out a bunch of forms and blanks - your name, age, social security, birthday, address. “Now, I need to document your markings. Put your arm right here,” she instructed, pointing to what looked like a small x-ray machine. It had a flat platform, a light, crosshairs, and an overhead lens. “Hold still,” she ordered.

You did your best to keep still as she pressed a button and the image was snapped.

“Did you write anything to them?” she asked, her voice stern.

“Yes, I wrote a few things,” you said, explaining everything you wrote and where.

“When did the markings appear? I need the date and time,” she informed.

“Alright, you’re officially in the system. Do you know their name?”

“No, we’ve only emailed and I refer to him as X?” you said, unsure.

“Good. I’m not sure if you know this or not, but we tell everyone who gets a mate: it’s never good to meet them before your time.”

“I’ve heard,” you noted quietly.

“It usually ends in an untimely death, and you don’t get another mate. No one has ever had more than one mate, even if their first one dies.”

You nodded. It made sense. The universe designed one person to fit your soul exactly, they couldn’t do that with two people, it would be crazy.

“No, yeah we agreed not to give any personal information away,” you confirmed.

“Good. Now, whenever your mate comes in to get registered, neither of you will be notified.”

You frowned for a moment. “So what’s the point in doing this?” you wondered.

“In case anything happens before you two meet, you can be notified. If you need a donor, your mate is notified. It’s mainly for record keeping, but just in case, they’re basically added to every In Case of Emergency list you have.”

“Really? Okay,” you said, a little more interested.

“Well you’re all set. Here’s some information for you,” she informed as she handed you a pamphlet. It said: So now you’ve got a soulmate, what this means for you.

Inside were several Do’s and Don'ts.

Do tell people you have a mate, so they don’t think you’re covered in tattoos of random words.

Don’t get the name of your soulmate before it appears on your skin. Their name and current location will appear when you are needed most by them.

Do be sure to include that you have a mate on any legal forms.

Don’t request a new mate.

… on and on it went. It made you smile and laugh at how… old it seemed to be.

Before you knew it, you were back in front of your computer screen, sending an update to X. He said he was busy today and would have to go to the clerk tomorrow.

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

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[saladejin]

Admire | 04

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Brief mentions of semi-absent parents

Word Count: 2k

A/N:  Hey there, this is just a short chapter I decided to post as a bridge to the next part of the story-line. Hope you enjoy :)

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“I know that you’re living a different life now (Y/n), but you still can’t skip out on the annual summer road trip,” your mother’s voice chided. You held the phone away from your ear slightly to avoid bursting your own eardrums.

“But - am I just meant to go on my own and leave the house? The road trips aren’t exactly meant for…”

You trailed off with a weird strangled noise in your throat, knowing that saying ‘people like him’ would only sound bad. Seokjin looked up at the changing tone of your voice, eyeing you with an intense curiosity. There was no way he didn’t pick up that it was him you were referring to.

You had been sitting together at the dining table, feasting on an old-style Italian pasta dish you’d decided to whip up right before your mother called. It was one of the only times you two had actually eaten together since getting married, as you usually just ordered food whenever you were hungry or ate out somewhere his driver would take you.

You had just been shocked that the stoic man agreed to share what you’d made in the first place.

“He can come along, no worries. I’ve already told the guide that you’d be bringing your husband anyway, since I just assumed he’d go with you,” your mother said in a dismissive tone, seemingly distracted on the other end.

Shit, right. We’re meant to be in love.

“Okay, but it’s going to be pretty different to what we’ve been doing so far.” You sighed, thinking about all the high-class parties you’d attended in the last few months, twirling some pasta around your fork absent-mindedly. Seokjin was going to be way out of his element here.

“Then it’s settled, you leave in a couple of days. Remember the meeting spot?”

“Yes, Mum. Bye then.”

You hung up the phone and sunk back into the chair across from Seokjin, exchanging his look with one fizzling with tension. Not one of you had touched your food since you took the call.

“You going to tell me what that was about?” he hummed after eventually moving to swallow down the last of his meal with a satisfied sigh.

“Yeah, just trying to figure out how to tell you.”

He seemed a tad concerned, but didn’t push any further. You sat and brooded with your thoughts for another minute or so before running your hands slowly through your hair in exasperation. You could almost laugh at how strange this was going to be for him.

“Okay so we do this thing every year, although my parents don’t usually go, where our extended family and friends have a summer road trip out to the countryside and sometimes stop by the beach. It’s kind of like a break from the busy lives they all lead, and it’s … such a big difference from their wealthy lifestyles,” you explained, not catching any change in facial expression from the handsome man across from you.

“So … I used to tag along because like you just heard, my mother nags me to go, and the trips always turned out being not half bad. If anything, I enjoyed getting out and seeing the different ways of life the people there lived. It was a nice change of scenery too.”

You realized you were ranting and cleared your throat, pushing your half empty bowl away from you. Seokjin looked like he was pondering again, but you were already guessing the thought of a road trip probably put him off terribly.

“Look, my mother said you’d come along but no one’s going to force you. It’s just a getaway thing that lasts for a couple of weeks, I wouldn’t be gone for too long. Maybe you could attend a party or ball by yourself for once, it’d make everything much easier for you-”

“I’ll go.”

You blinked at him in shock, but he only gazed back with a spark of interest flashing in his dark eyes. The raw emotion was such a rarity for him that you had to blink again to snap out of the awed emotion that was now warming up your cheeks.

“You will?” you squeaked, hating how high your voice had pitched itself.

“Yeah, I don’t want life to get boring. I’ve never done something like this, so I’ll see how it goes,” he replied simply, a small smile resting on his lips as he took in your expression alighting with appreciation. Was he always this adventurous? Maybe deep down, there were sides to this man you had yet to discover.

“Well, we leave in a couple of days. I can tell the driver the meeting location and everything… uh, are you sure?”

“Yes, (Y/n).”

You got up from your seat and swept up your dishes, feeling an odd excitement flood your whole chest at the prospect of going on a retreat with Seokjin. Getting to spend some time with the man who was slowly but surely warming up to you was such a promising idea. Plus, lately you’d been wanting to get closer to him. Your need for pure company was becoming overwhelming.

You wanted your own husband to be the person you could turn to when you needed attention … but after giving it too much thought, you knew that there was no way he’d care enough to want to put up with that. It was borderline foolish of you.

“So, you didn’t really go on many holidays?” you probed quietly after rinsing the bowls. He’d shifted himself from the table to one of the kitchen stools to watch you work. You felt oddly comfortable under his searching gaze, even if you did look quite average in your tracksuit pants and simple white tee.

“If my father’s business trips count?” Seokjin snorted in dry humour. You could tell he was legitimately curious about the whole road trip thing, which was so baffling to you considering he’d barely tried to ask you about your life at all.

“Well, what did you do on those trips?”

You wiped your dripping hands on a dish cloth and sat across from him, only the sparkling white benchtop separating the two of you. You had been spending a fair amount time in this position during the past week or so, and it filled you with joy having these longer interactions with him whenever it happened.

“My father would take my brothers and I when we were younger to his workplaces. Teaching us his ways and getting us prepared for when we would take on jobs at the firm. My mother did her own thing, but would only talk to us about what we’d done that day. Maybe there was the occasional shopping trip for new clothes, but both parents were busy most of the time,” he said rather sourly.

Seokjin was obviously tired of having to spend so much of his life pleasing his own mother and father. You couldn’t have imagined how repetitive it all must have been, then again you didn’t really know what it was like spending time with your own parents in the first place.

“Can you tell me what you used to do, then?” he asked suddenly. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, because he was asking about you, but then you felt bad for painting him in such a bad light. He wasn’t a terrible person; he just hadn’t engaged this much before. That’s why you were taken so off guard when he looked at you straight in the eyes and asked you the question so calmly.

“Um, yeah of course.” You smiled as the feeling of warmth enveloped your very soul, “So… since I never went on business travels with my parents, the only form of a holiday I ever experienced were these trips. They helped me relax and took my mind away from everything.”

You breathed out deeply at the memory of the countryside breeze, and the feeling of the piping hot beach sand crunching underneath your toes. You could only imagine the feeling of the sun’s rays kissing your skin as Seokjin watched in a mildly fascinated state.

“We’d travel as a large group in separate motorhomes – by the way we’ll most likely get one to ourselves – and stop in many small towns along the way. We’d go on walks and find lovely spots to eat lunch, and we’d visit special lookouts along with other cool cultural sites. The best thing was when you got the day to just venture through the place on your own, doing whatever you wanted and exploring the country.”

You unclasped your hands and let your voice die in your throat, not wanting to subject the man to more of your wistful reminiscing. He was hearing all about memories you held close to your heart, because throughout your school years the travelling was what’d kept your mind relaxed and stress-free.

“Sounds like it’ll be interesting for me. You said we’ll be given a motorhome, so we’re the ones driving?” he questioned quietly, almost as if he didn’t expect you to cut yourself off so soon.

“Yeah, I grew up with that brand of vehicle so I can do most of the driving. I’ve got my license,” you assured, barely stifling a giggle as you recalled memories of learning how to drive a motorhome for the first time.

“We can take turns,” he replied shortly, raising a strong eyebrow at you as if daring you to challenge him. You nodded in a slight daze of shock.

So you can drive too, huh.

You never would have guessed, after knowing that the handsome man had been chauffeured around basically his whole life. What need would he even have for a driver’s license?

“Well, I’m going to bed. I’ll start packing for this trip, just let me know if I need anything else,” Seokjin announced with a grunt as he slid off the chair and made his way around the bench to stand before you. He was dressed pretty casually as well, with a light blue button-up shirt hanging over grey trousers, but he still looked so unfairly tasteful.

“The only thing I’ll really say is just bring casual, but comfortable clothes. Oh, and a hat or cap if you have one,” you said, feeling giddy with anticipation for the holiday already. He nodded to acknowledge the advice, resting his weight onto one foot and pursing his thick lips as he thought about if he did, in fact, own a hat.

“Goodnight then,” you spoke after feeling something strange wash over you. This random urge to show him how elated you truly were. Your steps were bouncy and full of life, similar to the fitful pounding of your heart that felt full to the brim.

You stepped forward and placed your hands upon his crossed arms, then stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his smooth cheek. He didn’t jerk away or tell you off, just stood rigidly still for a few seconds before leaving the room to head to bed. It was only after he was gone that it finally hit you.

No way… did I just do that? Did I actually just freaking do that?

Your face erupted into a fiery crimson blush and you almost slammed your head down into the benchtop below you. All the couple-like actions you both performed at the parties must have made themselves a habit of yours, and since you’d been feeling so happy the desire to kiss him just leapt out.

“Idiot, oh my God,” you whimpered to yourself, busying your hands by cleaning the rest of the kitchen in a hurry. The fact that he hadn’t said a single thing scared you. Did he hate it? Or did he like it, or did he just not care? There was no way of knowing!

You scurried off to your room and heard the door shut behind you a little louder than normal. Your embarrassment was flowing thickly through your veins at this point. You just needed to bury your head under the covers and forget that the whole thing happened.

It wouldn’t take long for him to forget, right?

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[themulberrytree]

character sheet.

full name: Shallan Davar pronunciation: Sha-Lahn Dah-var (fuck IPA i am not doing that shit again)

nicknames: strong one (by hoid), love, dear (by adolin), storming woman (mostly by kaladin)

height: 5′6″ age: 19/20 (rosharan years) / 21-22 (earth years)   zodiac: gemini (donut ask me when her bday is i donut have a date yet) languages: (spoken/written): veden (native), alethi, azish, selay (moderate skill in speaking only) thaylen (reading/writing only).

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour: rich, deep red, only red. eye colour: bright blue skin tone: shallan is very fair, though she spends as much time in the sun as she can, so her face is dusted with freckles. body type: slim and slender. unlike the curvaceous body type often seen on alethi women, shallan is much smaller both in figure and stature. she could be mistaken for delicate, at first glance. as she spends more time training with her blade, her body becomes much more defined and muscular, but she will never achieve any kind of bulky muscles, she simply does not have the body type.

accent: her natural veder accent would be considered low, given shallan’s isolation out in the countryside. she can speak in a more posh (re: acceptable) accent, but she has little reason to do so. dominant hand: right posture: shallan has the posture of a perfect vorin lady, back straight and shoulders back at all times. when sitting, her freehand always covers her safehand, placed delicately in her lap unless she is sketching. when walking, her hands are clasped in front of her. she is rarely animated in her posture when speaking, and depending on her company, she works hard to blend in. when alone, shallan may slouch when studying, or do her work in a very unlady like fashion on her bed. if she trusts her present company, they may witness this lapse in acceptable posture, but only if she trusts them.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth: jah kaved hometown: some hick town in the middle of the countryside. birth weight / height: 6 pounds, 3 ounces. 18 inches. manner of birth: natural first words: pa siblings: (all elder, all brothers) helaran, balat, twins: wikim and jushu parents: lin davar, and an unnamed mother, malise davar (step mother), all deceased. parental involvement: shallan remembers a somewhat happy childhood (although the likelihood of that being the case is up for debate). her mother taught her how to draw, and was in charge of shallan’s education in the early years. much of her early years have been forgotten due to the trauma of shallan’s witnessing (see: committing) her mother’s murder. she did not speak at all for half a year afterwards. from that point on, her father became overbearing, and with each year he was less of the man shallan had first known. he was violent towards two of her brothers and the servants, often scaring away tutors, so shallan’s education in those critical years was sporadic at best. her father demanded complete obedience, and any deviation on her part meant that a servant got beaten in her place. in order to spare them and placate her father, shallan worked hard to draw little attention to herself and obey. it was her father who also chose her devotary (purity) rather than her having the opportunity to choose for herself.

ADULT LIFE

occupation: she is the ward of jasnah kholin, having managed to convince the woman she was worthy of wardship at seventeen. after being taken in, shallan begins her education in scholarship, fine tuning her skills in making logic based arguments, study, and critical thinking.

on the shattered plains, she secures work with highprince sebarial as a clerk while maintaining the work in finding urithiru that she started with jasnah, and working to infiltrate the secret group known as the ghostbloods.

she latter assumes a more public role as a knight radiant, the first of the order of lightweavers in centuries. while her status as a radiant is known, she works very hard to keep her work covert. she deals in spywork and information, and uses her lightweaving to form disguises for herself and associates. she has also used her abilities to battle unmade, work oathgates, and help run reconnaissance in kholinar.

as highprincess, her duties would include helping manage affairs of the realm and detecting intrigue to better aid her husband.

close friends: lmafo what are those????? jk, her brothers, later adolin, renarin, kaladin, jasnah (sort of, more teacher/student) wit/hoid (when he’s around). relationship status: verse dependent, married to adolin kholin in canon financial status: her family is destitute, and shallan herself has little experience in personally handling money. that being said, she knows how to balance finances and plan expenses. when working for sebarial, she manages to secure a comfortable pay from him, her later marriage secures her financial security, though her status as a radiant could’ve done that too. driver’s license: she could probably drive, but would be terrible at it due to the fact that she’d keep lookin out the window. she has little experience on horseback, but can manage. criminal record: technically none yet, having managed to get away with murder twice. she had also stolen successfully from jasnah kholin.  

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation: bisexual romantic orientation: biromantic, could be polyromantic preferred emotional role: submissive (someone pls force her to accept comfort i am beggin) | dominant |  switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role: submissive |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed | libido: she’s basically DTF anytime and anywhere, and yes, i wish i were kidding, but she’s just horny on main. turn ons: she’s into more traditional kinds of attractiveness, people who look put together. but she really enjoys some kind of hint at wildness, hair that won’t quite stay, a kind of subtle ruggedness. post-battle disheveledness  is HOT. allow her to talk about her studies, things she’s working on or wanting to start, she’ll love that. don’t be afraid to talk about your own interests, she goes off on her own a lot, so she’ll want someone with their own hobbies too. be kind, be willing to grow and change and share. be there if she asks. laugh at her absolutely fucking awful jokes. on the more physical side, not being afraid to show affection in public. that spot on the neck below the ear? yeah, kiss it. leave a mark. kiss the inside of her wrist. do not be afraid to be rough with her, she’s not easily hurt and she doesn’t always like being treated like a china doll. go to town. BUT you must also be good at taking your time. tenderness is a good trait to have in every day life, but if you can translate that into the intimacy of the bedroom, give her a slow buildup, ur golden. turn offs: unnecessary rudeness, lack of independence. anyone who treats her like she needs protecting, or thinks she needs to confine herself in some way, for any amount of time. never laughing at her terrible jokes, or indulging her seemingly random curiosities. being a skybreaker. love language: physical touch is primary, but quality time and words of affirmation are also great. relationship tendencies: shallan has a tendency to fall fast. even when she’s telling herself to be careful and take things slow, it’s easy to pull her in and have her grow an attachment on a superficial level fairly early. she’s good about letting the other person lean on her for support, but she’s not so great when it comes to sharing anything deep about herself. she has a habit of trying to mold herself into what she thinks the other person would like, and clinging to that. if confused she might play around with feelings, though she’s not fully aware she’s doing it. she’s big on positive reinforcement, she’ll let you know if she enjoys your company, and when she’s invested in the relationship, she’ll look for fun ways to spend time with that person. she might attempt to appear more serious and mature than she is, but her silliness will slip out. when she loves though, she loves completely, and a distracted heart is settled once she makes a decision about what she wants.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song: flowers, from ha.des.town iris, goo goo dolls moth’s wings, passion pit: this is more a general vibe. i picture it when shallan is in a creative spurt. sun, sleeping at last: for the same creation aesthetic. fire drills, dessa (for when she finally Snaps. and also some lines just really Hit)

hobbies to pass the time: drawing is the big one. she’s always got her sketchbook and something to draw with on hand. it’s an art she’s perfected and uses it both for her lightweaving, and to relax. she enjoys scholarship, exploring history is of a special interest, but taking a closer look at the local flora and fauna is just as fun. she’s naturally curious, so if something grabs her attention, she will want to take a look. she also enjoys discussing what she’s working on with other people, sometimes just so she can use them as a sounding board, but also because they might have insights she doesn’t. it’s very fun for her to explore ideas. she likes going on walks, exploring the area around her. just spending quality time with people she enjoys too. mental illnesses: Dissociative Personality Disorder is the big one. ADHD, PTSD, some depression. physical illnesses: None. left or right brained: right fears: CONFINEMENT. she fears vulnerability and relying others, but she also craves it quite a bit. she fears being understood completely because she’s certain there isn’t anything left to love if someone were to see everything. she fears what she can’t understand, and losing the people she loves, more than she already has. self confidence level: extremely low. she projects an air of self confidence, but frequently downplays her talents. she finds it completely astounding that adolin might actually find her attractive in any sense, let alone be interested in her as a person. her trauma and what she precieves as crimes has left her feeling hollowed out, because she is so terrified of someone really Seeing her, she works hard to hide those corners of herself from others and often feels like she’s failing at even that. vulnerabilities: shallan keeps secrets. too many of them. and she can often dig herself into a pit and struggle to get herself out, and even when she’s in that deep, she has difficulty asking for help. she doesn’t always think things through. her dpd can leave her particularly vulnerable depending on which personality is in control (veil in particular has trouble seeing the Big Picture). it’s easy to goad her into a fight (of the verbal variety) and she will stop at nothing to have the last word. if you have members of her family to hold over her, that’s a good tool. and shallan cannot resist a good mystery, that is a surefire way to pull her in.

tagged by: @luck-crowned tagging: @marblecarved (for mary, emma, or horace!), @melnchly (meg or ros), @minastiriiths, @arturiusrex, @gxtenoughnxrve, @ambiidexter, and @arborvitas

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

➜ Words: 3k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

➜ Warnings: Slowburn.....

➜ Notes: Who’s ready for 20 chapters of slow burn?

He can’t go any harder.   He can’t go any faster.   “Sir! Sir! Stop, please! Stop right there! Stop!”   It’s a sight to behold — a blonde college student pedalling hard on a bike with all his mustered strength while a horde of suited men are hot on his tail, sprinting fifteen miles per hour and shouting at the top of their lungs in desperation. He’s made them look like the idiots that they are.   People turn around to stare, morning interrupted by the ruckus. Yet he is undeterred, zipping through the crowd, ignoring the eyes of his fellow peers and as he cuts through campus. A black sleek vehicle on the road has its wheels screeching on the asphalt, trying to keep the boy on the bike in their line of sight. They continue to chase him, screaming out his name.   It’s dangerous. He knows it. But their hysterics make him laugh.   He feels free like this, running away, thighs burning as he pedals.   The wind caresses through the strands of his crazy hair, causing his oversized shirt and grey sweatpants to flutter. His clothing is baggy, bed head's a mess, the scruff all over his chin never once giving hints that he’s the wealthy son of a world leader. He doesn’t have brand name clothing, a polished appearance, shiny cars or luxurious watches to his name.   Just a bike and himself.   And that’s enough for Taehyung.   “Sir, sir! Stop! Please!”   Now only if he had less surrounding bodyguards, or at least less suffocating ones that don’t make him want to hurl himself out the window just to get a nice view of the blue sky. Then everything would be perfect.

At the exact same time and half-across the capital, the plane touches against the tarmac.   The aircraft eventually slows on the runway, engines whirring, white noise loud but inviting as people begin to stir awake, happy to have finally landed and eager to get off. The two pilots wave to you happily as you leave, head stewardess glaring for some reason from the corner of her eye unbeknownst to you, and with your luggage, you cut through visitation and immigration booths. Stopping at only one spot, the person behind the counter looks at your passport and simply says “welcome home” before you’re cutting through the baggage claims, straight out the airport doors.   There’s nothing else you need.   Just your one suitcase and you.   “Where are we off to this afternoon?”   The female taxi driver turns around from her waist, flashing the brightest of smiles despite somehow looking fatigued. You read out the address and she hums, pulling away from the curb.   “Are you visiting?”   “No...this was actually my hometown.” You look out the window, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu from suddenly being propelled back to a place that is so familiar and yet foreign to you. “I think I’m staying here for a while.”   “Oh, that’s nice. I hope you don’t mind me asking so many questions. I just really like hearing people’s stories.” She glances in the rear view mirror and you welcome her friendliness. For a long time, you’ve forgotten that this is your home. “Did you miss it?”   “Sort of.”   A lot has changed in nine years. The buildings are different, old ones demolished, new ones built that are sleeker, taller and reaching the height of the sky. But at the same time, it’s still small. Maybe it’s because the skeleton of the city, the foundation, hasn’t altered. Or perhaps because you were shorter and tinier back then and the city seemed so large, scary even.   Though now there are billboards plastered everywhere, advertising products you aren’t familiar with, music leaking out from bustling shops and restaurants, and people you don’t recognize walking around and that you would never come to recognize. Colour seems to explode all around you, the city alive, streets breathing.   “—should really find another job. I mean driving a taxi isn’t terrible, but it’s not what I want to do forever. I have a degree in Human Resource Management. Honours actually. Wonder if I can do anything with that though.” The taxi driver taps her fingers against the wheel. “The economy’s bad these days.”   “Oh, can I actually get off here?” You unknowingly interrupt her life story, peering out the window.   You remember the avenue well — a hot dog food truck on the corner next to the department store, a toy store still standing tall; it’s one that you used to go to on your birthday to pick out your own gift. There’s also new cafes that have opened up, business buildings that make it foreign. There really isn’t a reason for you to get out now, but for nostalgia sakes and ...your intuition that tells you should get out here.   “Sure thing.” She signals to switch lanes, looking over her shoulder and smoothly parking into an empty spot a few meters away. “That’ll be twenty two dollars.” Once you pass her the correct amount of bills, she smiles. “Have a good day and good luck.”   “Thank you. Good luck on finding a new job too.”   The woman thanks you and with your suitcase by your side, you shut the taxi door, looking around at the metropolis, listening to the sounds of the concrete jungle, engines of buses whirring, honks of cars in the distance…   Everything is almost unrecognizable.   The suitcase drags behind you as you walk down the street. It’ll take longer on foot, but you enjoy the surroundings, taking it all in. Your life has always been face-paced. It’s nice to slow things down.   But you don’t notice the bike zipping towards you. The blonde man just a year younger than you are, pedalling hard and looking over his shoulder, having lost the sleek vehicle for now.   Though what is noticeable and what catches your eye is the soft baby blue colour of his bike.   He comes closer to you. One more glance is taken. The boy’s ready to zip across the street. But he’s far too preoccupied to pay any attention to another car speeding down the road, the screech of their wheels, the driver who is distracted.    He simply pedals off the curb, going onto the road.   “Look out!”   On instinct, you grab his arm, right at his elbow and you pull him towards you. With a huge tug, his body collides against yours, but you catch him in your arms, shouldering his weight and holding him up so he doesn’t fall. His bike drops over to the ground in a crash. The speeding car zooms past, fast enough that the wind whips your hair, honk deafening to your eardrums.   You let go of the boy and he’s shocked, knees weak. His legs almost buckle and people around have slowed down to watch the commotion. “You should be more careful. Are you alright?”   Leaning down, your eyes meet his.   “Uh….I-….uh….”   Taehyung is starstruck.   In the meanwhile, your eyes flicker upwards. “License plate zero two nine five seven five…” You immediately dig into your pocket, dialling the number without even looking. “Hi, I’d like to report a reckless driver going southbound on Imlings Avenue and ninth street. Yes. They were speeding. I think they were going at least twenty over the limit. Yes. No. Well, they almost hit a cyclist, but kept on driving.”    You tell them the colour and model of the car before taking your phone off your ear for a second, staring directly at Taehyung again. “Do you need an ambulance, kid?”   “I’m f-fine,” he chokes out, stuck gazing at you.   There’s something familiar about you that he can’t quite put his finger on.   “He’s good. Yes. Thank you.”   You just saved his life — you’re a hero. Yet, you act completely nonchalant about it, indifferent to the bystanders staring. He’s baffled. The way you pulled him in like he weighed nothing. The way you take care of business without batting a single eyelash. Taehyung is in love.   He’s never met someone so sexy before.   “Hello? Kid, are you alright?”   You’ve hung up, now waving your hand in front of his face, making him crash down to reality.   “Uh...what?”   “The police will be on the lookout. Someone might come here soon to check up on things, so you should stick around. I can be your witness.”   “I...um...need to actually get going. It’s….ur-urgent….” He remembers why he was here in the first place and while Taehyung’s eyes are still glued onto your face, unable to be torn off, he hitches a thumb over his shoulder. But running away doesn’t seem so pressing anymore.   “Oh, well….you can always go to the station later then. I think the CCTV over there might have caught it all but if you need me to fill out a report. Here.” You dig into the front pocket of your suitcase, ripping some paper from a traveling pamphlet that was given to you. Grabbing a pen from your jacket pocket, you bite the cap off to scribble down your name and number.   Taehyung’s busy ogling at your mouth and the way you coolly uncapped the pen.   “Here. Just call this number if you need. You should also be wearing a helmet — it’s a law and you can get into trouble without it. Stay safe and be careful.”   “Uh-huh.” His eyes fall down to the paper, taking it while swallowing hard.   It’s an out-of-body experience for him. He almost died. But he’s never felt more alive than now. The thing is though, he’s not an adrenaline junkie. Not in the least bit. His blood runs hot for another reason…..   Taehyung snaps out of when he reads the name you’ve scribbled next to your number.    Then he reads it twice, double checking that his eyes aren’t deceiving him. And they aren’t.   “Y/N….?”   His head whips upwards, but by then, you’re pulling your luggage, wheels rolling on the sidewalk and over the ridges. Taehyung watches as your backside gets smaller and he barely remembers to pull up his bike again.   On the other hand, you’re less awe-struck than he is. You’re just glad you were there at the right time, the right place, able to save a homeless man from meeting his demise.   //   It feels out of place, awkward for you to march up to the resident of the head of state like this, lugging your backpack and suitcase with you. You look more like a student who took a gap year to travel across the country than someone who’s supposed to be here.   You would’ve dropped off your belongings first, rented a place like the responsible adult that you are, but he told you to come here before doing anything else. At the news of you arriving back home, he’s urgently seeking you out and you wonder what could be so important — it could never be because he actually misses you. Such a thing is impossible.   “Hi, are you looking for the tour of the Blue House? Unfortunately, the group just left five minutes ago and this is our last one for today.”   “No, I...uh...actually...” You dig into your jeans back pocket for the lanyard. It’s old, but still visible and you flash the security badge. “I’m looking for the head of the secret service. Is he around?”   The room that you’re brought into is spacious and luxurious, golden furnishings that remind you of being inside a castle. The windows are large, looking to a garden, but here at the back of the house, it’s secluded. Your suitcase has been taken and you’ve been searched before stepping in here. You muse that he’s taken quite the promotion since you’ve last seen him. He seems to have some kind of status or importance.   After a moment of gandering, the double doors open.   You stand, coming face to face with an old man standing tall and proud. “How was the flight?”   The doors close behind him. “It was good. Are you off work?”   “I’m always working.”   His hands are behind his back, putting a meter distance away from you. It’s been years, but there’s never a hug spared, not even a smile or polite handshake that would be offered in greeting a stranger. No one would know that he’s your family, that this old man’s your father.   “There’s a reason you wanted me to come here right away.”   “Yes. Take a seat.”   ….   Taehyung tracks mud into the house.   He’s about to hear an earful from someone, maybe his dad or his stepmom, but he doesn’t want to hear it and he won’t wait around to be caught for that to happen. He walks quickly despite feeling eyes pinned to the back of his head. It’s suffocating here, though no one dares to say anything about his troublemaking antics.   The boy has his hands in his pockets, strolling down the hallway towards the kitchen to raid some free food. But as he turns the corner, someone comes towards him from the other end of the corridor.    The tables have turned. Now he’s the one who notices you first.   “Y/N?”   He knew he’d see you again. But maybe not so soon.   “Oh, you.” Your feet halt and you look at him with a frown. “What are you doing here? Are you allowed to be here?”   “I should be asking you that.” He laughs, wholly relaxed unlike earlier.   You don’t know how he got here...until the realization dawns on you.   He’s the person that your father talked about, the reason why he wanted to see you in the first place. This homeless man isn’t homeless at all. And as you look into his eyes, the way they’re a warm brown shade reminding you of dark caramel, childlike and mischievous, you realize truly nothing has altered in the course of nine years. He’s taller, shoulders broad, face lost its baby fat and more sculpted. He’s less like an aggravating rascal, but the rest is the same.   It’s Kim Taehyung.   “You remember, right?” He comes closer, taking a slick step towards you, leaning down to connect his eyes with yours at the same height. He’s flirtatious — that’s different and foreign.   “Pardon me, I’m sorry, remember what?”   The man with the blonde strands flopping over his eyes blinks and his strong brows furrow in concern. “You...don’t remember?”   “Did we know each other?”   He scoffs, leaning back onto one foot and crossing his arms. “Did we know each other,” he mimics in a mocking tone. But when you give no response, his lips fall into a straight line, gaze morphing into something grievous and serious. “You can’t recall?”   “I’m sorry….” You shake your head. “Is there something I should know, Mr. Kim?”   “Mr. Kim?” he murmurs in exasperation and steps forward again as if to corner you. Taehyung refuses to give up. He insists on jogging your memory again. “We used to dig holes in the ground to get to the other side of the world and I flung dirt at you, remember? I glued your seat and stuck tape in your hair and put salt in your water and replaced your whip cream with dad’s shaving cream. And you never cried once. Remember, dumbo?”   The name makes a muscle in your cheek twitch.   Taehyung wears the biggest shit eating grin, smile spread into his cheeks, not letting it go. Your expression remains impassive as the memories come back. But they were always here. The moment your dad said his name aloud, you already knew. And you’re wholly unimpressed.   Without thinking twice, you walk forward, not allowing him to block your way. Your shoulder shoves against his, but your strength isn’t calculated and he’s pushed to the other side of the hallway, caught off guard. He smacks against the wall, wheezing as the lungs get knocked out of his body. You mumble an apology, lingering for a second.   Trying to play dumb didn’t work. Maybe someone out there could actually get away with not being able to recall their memories, but for you it unfortunately doesn't work like that.   It’s not like you’re traumatized or damaged over the memories. Just slightly annoyed. He’s always been that little fruit fly buzzing around your head near your ear that you couldn’t get rid of.   “I remember.”   Taehyung bullied you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, dumbo, are you listening?”   You turn your head with dead eyes. The seven year old has rounded cheeks pinched red, cute eyes and a playful smile. But he’s not a cherub. He’s a demon in disguise. “You’re annoying.”   “Well you’re ugly,” he bites back with his tongue sticking out.   You walk away but he follows after you diligently like a dog — too bad he’s not as cute. You would’ve preferred a dog. “Where do you think you’re going, huh, dumbo? I’m talking to you! You’re no fun. You’re boring. Boring. Booooring. Boooooooooring.”   At eight, you’re taller than he is. But unlike what your dad’s taught you, Taehyung has no regards for age at all. He’s not respectful. He doesn’t stay quiet. He’s not well-mannered. He’s a troublemaker. What others have called ‘a punk’.   You continue, only to be forced to a stop, colliding with an invisible barrier. Your face is pushed up against the transparent surface and from being caught off guard, the force is enough to topple you off your feet. You fall onto your butt. The floorboards welcome your small body.   Taehyung laughs his head off.   “I can’t believe you actually fell for it!”   He’s chortling, snickering, in absolute hysterics.   You give up, laying on the ground with your arms to your side, staring at the ceiling lifelessly before your eyes flicker to him, watching him have his fun.    The doorway remains stretched with plastic wrap. 

[moondustaeil]

with love , Kim Doyoung

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ⋅ with love,

⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  

⠀ about  

⋅  genre : parenthood au : romance (angst + fluff)

⋅  characters : Kim Doyoung x fem!reader 

⋅  word count : 5.8k

⋅  warning : break-ups, mentions of miscarriage, idk what to think about this piece of writing, it wasn’t like i imagined. I listened to Yesung’s ‘Here I am’ + Block B’s ‘Don’t leave’

⠀ ⠀

⠀ summary

⋅  Each week Juna has to change her home because her parents are no longer together after suffering from a miscarriage. She sees both of her parents struggling and is determined to bring them again together somehow, little does she know sleep will interrupt her halfway through her plan.

“Juna, papa and mama need to have a little chat with you” Doyoung announced as he stepped into the living room, his eyes going to the tv that was playing a cartoon about a princess who was being held by the prince. He swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight, quickly turning his head to Juna who seemed to be immersed in the sight of the happy characters. Doyoung took the remote of the tv and turned it off after he heard the male voice say ‘I will love you forever.’ Words that he rather would have not heard at this moment. The fairytales were all made up out of lies: there was no happily ever after, or whatever they called it. 

Juna’s eyes drifted from the now black television screen, over to her dad who just stood there looking like he just had a long day at work. Her eyes scanned the facial expression he carried around, and with her emotional knowledge, she could conclude that her papa was sad. Her eyes were torn away from him as soon as she heard the slight footsteps on the wooden floor, smiling as soon as she saw you there. But you looked just like Doyoung did: sad, red eyes and a more bloated face.

She was too young to find a reason why the two of you looked so sad, if she found a reason then it was one of those who were childproof: like that the two of you had gotten dust in your eyes or a nightmare had kept you up at night. The only thing she knew, for now, was that she didn’t like seeing her parents sad like that. It was a feeling that lately, she had seen more often on your faces, but both of you had always dismissed that and acted as if all was fine.

Both you and Doyoung sat on either side of her, something you both discussed a couple of minutes ago in the kitchen. You both wanted to be next to her to support her in case she would break down, you both were her parents even though from now on you would live separate lives.

“We have to tell you something,” You said soft and tried to make eye contact with your young daughter, something she instantly returned but the big sparkly eyes brought more pain than joy at this moment. Your lips parted to say the news, ready to tell it in the way the internet had adviced you to. But at the same time, if you said the words now, you could never take them back. And even thinking about it formed regret in your heart.

Doyoung noticed that you couldn’t push the words past your lips, how you couldn’t say it alone. He gave you a slight smile, the one without feelings, as a sign, he would take it over from you, something parents did. Sharing responsibilities.

“Mama and Papa won’t be together anymore” He broke the news, his words making it sound simple and less complicated than it actually was between the two of you. Though by the way his voice sounded, it was clear that even he had a hard time saying it like that. “We will be living in two separate houses, and so will you.” He explained a bit more, reminding himself of the research you two did together. 

Once the words were out, Juna turned her head away from Doyoung and towards you instead. In her eyes, you could see that she needed to hear the same words for you, just so that they were confirmed. “We are sorry, Juna” you said softly instead of repeating the same words again. You knew Juna was too young to understand the reason behind it, so you wouldn’t bother her with it either. It was better if you didn’t, that way she later on couldn’t pick a side.

It was only you and Doyoung who knew what happened to get your family to this low point, not your parents, siblings or friends knew it was going bad between the two of you. They just saw the masks you two put on whenever others were around.

Although the two of you also put on that mask in front of each other, when Juna went to bed, the masks fell off and you were exposed like a commoner in the middle of a masked ball. Neither of you had been able to mourn properly which led to unresolved grief and hard feelings.

The little baby that was supposed to make your family even stronger, never had the chance to have that effect. Right after your third month, the day before you wanted to tell everyone, it had ended. It had ended before the real start came.

The awful day had been encrypted in your memories, yet there was no terrible story that would reveal the reason behind your miscarriage. Which maybe was more negative than positive, as not knowing why left you both clueless and worrying that either of you two were to blame but just didn’t know about it. That day, you woke up feeling normal, with Doyoung still asleep next to you. It was only when you went to the bedroom, that you noticed the blood in your underwear. Doyoung had still rushed you to the hospital while the neighbor watched Juna, but when you returned, it was with an empty stomach and a broken heart.

From that moment on, everything went downward. You and Doyoung tried to tell the news to Juna as she knew you were pregnant, but it was as if she had forgotten it or as if you had never been pregnant. Maybe better for her that she seemed like that but it was harder for you to mourn as a family. No remains were left of your little miracle, only the sad memories.

No matter how hard the two of you tried to get life back on track over the months, life went too fast for the two of you who had stood still ever since it happened. Especially when you had to start working again and do everything parents did. As no one else knew, there was no social safety net that could offer you help.

“It’s okay” Juna’s voice made you look up again as reality suddenly dawned onto you, the thought of the miscarriage was there at least once a day and each time it pulled you into another haze of memories. The girl smiled, a smile that was way too genuine for this moment thus, you concluded that she didn’t really understand what it meant. Maybe once it was so far, she would understand the concept of having separated parents.

Doyoung brought his hand up and carefully ran it through Juna’s dark hair, his fingers trembling slightly but that didn’t stop him from doing it. “Soon it will be different, Juna. But different doesn’t mean bad” he said and looked over at you, you nodded in agreement. Different wasn’t bad, at least not in this situation, neither of you were happy and it was better if your love ended. The strings of parenthood would always keep you connected anyway.

Doyoung looked at Juna who was collecting the things she definitely needed when she was going to swap from him to you again. In silence, he took the little suitcase she always brought and put it down on her bed. It always hurt him that on Sunday evening, he would unpack the bag, only to repack it one week later. But it was better than the sadness you’d both feel when you were still together.

He heard his phone ringing from his bedroom which made him stand up. “You can already pack some things, okay?” he said towards his daughter as he left the room to take the phone call he was receiving. He was just in time to grab his phone and pick up, even though he hadn’t checked the caller yet.

“Kim Doyoung, Hello” He spoke into the phone, first saying who he was in case it was a call from work or someone else that he didn’t know. He waited for the person to speak next but by the sight, he could already recognize it was you. “Doyoung, can you come and get me, please. My bus doesn’t drive and it’s raining so hard” you asked in a soft voice. Doyoung knew you had been away for a job interview today, and secretly had kept his fingers crossed all day in hopes that you’d get it. 

He didn’t hesitate at all when he heard your question. “Of course, send me the address and wait somewhere dry for me,” he told you, making him thank you, by the way you said thank you, he could tell that you were smiling. After that, you hung up the phone so that you could send him the address and wait at a place that kept you away for the rain for a little while. 

Juna in the meanwhile had run into the bedroom of curiosity, wanting to know who her father was calling with and what all was going to be said. “Who was it?” she asked with a smile, asking it the same way as she would always ask it whenever the call ended. “It was your mama, it was raining really hard, so we will pick her up with the car,” he said with a smile. All of the packing that still had to be done, was completely forgotten because of you.

Doyoung lifted up Juna in his arms and immediately went towards the hallway, putting his shoes on and quickly did the same for Juna before he headed out of his apartment. He didn’t waste time: going down to the garage of the building as fast as he could, just so that you wouldn’t have to wait in the rain for too long. He also deep inside knew you could take a taxi, but he preferred it when you called him instead. He’d lie to himself and say it belonged to parenting together, even if he still deeply was in love with you.

He helped Juna in the car and got in as well, driving out of the garage with ease. And one on the road, he drove past his speed limit, not much but still enough to realize that speed wasn’t the regular one. But he was willing to risk it, it was better for him to pay a fine than for you to get sick and pay a visit to the hospital instead. The rain made it harder to drive faster but he had all eyes on the road and dared to call himself an experienced driver after having his license for quite some time already.

Without using his phone for the right direction, he managed to drive to it from the way his head had figured it out, he knew his way around in the city pretty well. He only used it to look at the address whenever he managed to forget the name of the street that you would wait in. 

“When will we be there? Where is mama?” Juna asked as she was getting slightly impatient, shifting in her seat, just like she always did when she was seeing either of you two. Even though she loved you both, seeing the other parent after a week would always make her a bit of a nervous mess. “You should look through the window and tell me if you find her” Doyoung said even though the drive would still take a couple of minutes.

Not even a minute later, he heard the sound of Juna’s hand against the window. “There is mama!” She spoke loudly so that her words would be heard by Doyoung. Doyoung looked to his right to quickly check what his daughter identified as you, the least he expected was for her to be right. But he could recognize you: standing there under an umbrella but you were soaking wet anyway. He quickly parked his car on the side so that you knew it was him.

As soon as your eyes had caught the car, you smiled as you knew it was Doyoung. The rain had been bothersome but you had been offered an umbrella by someone who lived in the apartment above the place that you were standing, and you gratefully accepted the offer. You closed the umbrella after trying to shake most of the water off, in quick steps heading to the car that belonged to your ex-boyfriend. 

You opened the door to the passenger’s side and sighed in relief once you were greeted by the warmth and the dry seats. You sat down and shut the door, your head resting back against the seat. “Thank you” you breathed out with a small smile, happy you were finally out of the bad weather. Doyoung let out a small laugh at your behavior, but on the inside was proud of himself. “It’s fine” he said.

Your eyes drifted to the backseat where you saw your daughter sitting with a hopeful smile, waiting until you would say hi to her. “Hi little Juna!” you said with a smile, smiling brighter than your mood was but everything for your daughter. “Hi mama!!” she repeated, giggling out loud because you finally had noticed her. 

You turned back in your seat to come down from the stressful moments, it almost seemed like a cliché thing that it rained right after you came back from your job interview, even though the interview had gone well. You even thought you may have a big chance of getting the job, which was a good thing as you really were in need of a job to pay your rent and bills with, not to forget that you also had to take care of Juna.

“Do you think you have the job?” Doyoung asked as he had heard you talking about the job they needed last week, he knew how bad you needed it and would have helped you if it wasn’t for his job that required his attention. You shrugged your shoulders at the words “maybe, I did well so I hope I can get the job” you said.

It was silent for a few minutes as Doyoung wanted you to be able to calm down and relax a little bit before anything else happened. He knew you well enough to know when it was appropriate for him to speak again. “What if I make dinner tonight? I’ll drive you and Juna home after that” he suggested to you. The sweetness and helpfulness of him made you smile a little bit, how had you let a man like that slip from your life? But as an answer, you gave him a smile and a nod. “I’d like that, if it’s not too much at least,” you said, as you didn’t want him to feel awkward in his own apartment because you were there as well. 

When you noticed Doyoung was driving into the direction of his apartment rather than yours, you knew he was going through with his plan like it was no problem for him. It made you smile to yourself, glad that you still had him in your life to get through days like this. You had to admit that life had been a little hard on you since you two broke up, but that didn’t change the fact that he was always there to offer you help.

The rest of the drive to his apartment building didn’t take long but it was filled with a comfortable silence, occasionally Juna spoke when she saw something out of the window like a dog, making either you or Doyoung reply. But no other conversation was formed between the two of you.

When he parked the car back into the garage, you got out of the car and helped out Juna who had desperately opened her arms to be held by you. You lifted her up in your arms as you walked behind Doyoung to get up to his apartment. “Don’t judge how my apartment looks, it’s still a bit chaotic” Doyoung said as soon as the three of you were stood at the front door.

You nodded as a sign that you understood him: of course you did as you were in the same situation as him. Both of you had moved out from the place you shared and had gotten smaller apartments, all of that happened three months ago so it was still a bit chaotic but both of you were working hard to get each of your homes done and Juna-proof. The bigger apartment the three of you used to live in, was going to be sold once the two of you had the time to measure everything and find someone that wanted to sell it.

He opened the front door and let you go inside with Juna first, following behind you this time so that he could close the door after himself. “I will take over Juna and prepare dinner, in the meantime, you can get changed,” He said with a sweet smile although forgot about the fact that you didn’t live here, so had no clothes to wear aside from the soaked once that you were already clad in at this moment.

“How? I don’t have any clothes” You pointed out as you put down Juna who had been wriggling in your arms so that she could go and play for a little bit. Doyoung widened his eyes at the words and slapped himself on the arm as some kind of punishment. “Sorry, I forgot, let me find you some clothes of mine you can wear,” he said and started to lead you into his bedroom. 

The colors of the bedroom were pretty neutral but you didn’t expect much as like he said, not everything was done, and his room was the last priority he had at this moment. As long as he had a bed to sleep in, he was fine. He went to the wardrobe and started to go through the clothes he had. 

“Some sweats?” He asked but already took them out before you could say yes or no, he remembered by head the times that he had seen you in his sweatpants whenever a situation like this happened. While holding the sweatpants, he searched for an upper part of clothing with his free hand. “Here is a shirt for you,” He said and took out the light blue shirt but also took out a white t-shirt. Unknowingly dressing you in the things he liked to wear in daily life, the things that you liked to see on him and the things that he liked to see on you as well.

You took the clothes from him once he handed them over to you, smiling gratefully at his help. “Thanks,” you said to him and motioned to the clothes. “You’re welcome. You can change here and the bathroom is in the next room in case you want to refresh yourself a bit” he said with a small nod, realizing it was his cue to leave the room. Letting you change in peace.

Your eyes scanned the room once you were left alone, it didn’t look like the kind of room that you and Doyoung would share. But it wasn’t as if this was your room, and Doyoung not your significant other anymore so you had no right to judge. You sat down on the edge of the bed after you got yourself out of your drenched clothes, taking a few seconds of silence to calm yourself down. Suddenly your eyes fell from the wall towards the nightstand that was right next to you, nothing that caught your eye aside from that one little piece of paper and what was written on it.

‘Kim Junseo, Kim Junhwa

Those were the names I would have wanted, I’m sorry for screwing up what we had. I can’t forgive myself for letting you go like that, you will walk out soon. One day my heart will be completely broken, and I want you to heal it before it’s too late. I need you, do you need me?

With love, Doyoung’

Your fingers reached for the piece of paper, gripping it between your fingers a little harsher than you expected which formed a crook in the middle of it. Seeing the names written down brought doubt to your mind if these were the names he had for your baby, and the doubt began to turn into sadness once the thought of the baby was there. Even the other words hadn’t managed to really get into your mind, even if you knew it was meant for you but at the same time, it wasn’t.

It took a solid minute before your fingers tried to get the crook out of the paper, but it stayed there like the cracks in your heart. You put the paper back onto the nightstand. And another minute later, you finally started to change into the clothes that Doyoung had offered you. 

Once you had gotten changed into the clothes, you stood up and went to the mirror to take a look at yourself. The fashion was exactly like the things that Doyoung would wear in his daily life, you would be surprised if this wasn’t one of his favorite outfits. You took your wet clothes with you as you left the room but left them in a corner near the entrance for you to take home later on again.

Doyoung, who was making dinner hadn’t even noticed that you were back into the main room, maybe it was because he was distracted by his own thoughts. And the sound of the tv playing in the background kind of blurred out the other sounds in the room. Though it was Juna who had heard you coming back and immediately came running to you, breaking Doyoung’s rule of not running around inside. 

“Mama!” Juna shouted happily and ran, running straight into your barely-opened arms but you still managed to catch her just in time. You lifted her from the ground and up into your arms so that you could give her some love and carry her around. “I missed-ed you” She said and leaned up the last few centimeters, her lips pressing fast-paced kisses to all of the areas of your face that she could reach. The kisses made you laugh, they were cute and you had missed them all week. “I missed you too, sunflower” you whispered to her, capturing her cheek with your lips to press a kiss onto it.

Without either of you realizing, Doyoung had been watching you with small glances whenever the looking didn’t require as much attention. His broken heart tried to mend the pieces by its own when he saw you together with Juna: a sight that brought a mixture of detailed feelings. From an intense heartbreak to the homely happiness, also including all of the feelings in between. What could have been his life was now only half of it, a half family, a half heartbeat maybe?

He couldn’t bring himself to break the moment to say the two of you could come to the table and have a seat. Instead, he put down the kitchen supplies and carefully made his way over to where you and Juna were still caught up in soft giggles and happiness. “I want to have fun too, Juna!” Doyoung said with a fake whine, with his sudden appearance catching the eyes of his ex-lover and his daughter. 

Juna smiled happily and allowed her father to get involved in the random laughing and jumping, even though it probably didn’t look like fun, it was perfect for the three of you. Juna was shared between the two of you, bouncing in either of your arms as if she was dancing. The playing continued for a couple of minutes, it seemed as if nothing had ever happened, as if the three of you still represented the same happy family that you once had been. 

“Hug!” She suddenly yelled out loud and opened her arms, she was down on her two own feet onto the ground so that she had been able to show off her own individual dancing skills. Without thinking you and Doyoung moved down synchronically, two pairs of arms wrapping around little Juna. Which accidentally caused both you and Doyoung to be in a hug, sandwiched between you two was Juna. 

The giggles went silent, but Doyoung’s eyes met yours at an unexpected moment. Even Juna seemed to disappear once that happened. It was just the two of you staring at each other, sharing a conversation that was completely mute. If you had used words it would have been something along the lines of. “It’s been so long since we hugged” and either of you would then reply with a “please don’t let go.”

But in reality looks didn’t speak with such words and it might have looked different from both of your points, it only caused you to break the eye contact that was shared. “Sorry” Doyoung apologized first and pulled away from the double hug before you were able to say something in reply. The only thing that you heard was the whine that left Juna’s lips at the sudden lack of warmth around her.

“It’s time to eat,” Doyoung said and disappeared into the kitchen. The words were sudden but both you and Juna followed him to the table where dinner was going to be served. You placed Juna in her seat and just sat on one of the other chairs so that you had a good sight on your daughter while she was eating. Doyoung was quiet in the kitchen as you got settled down, only sometimes coming closer whenever he had to place one of the prepared things onto the table. 

You started to talk a bit to your daughter but as soon as you looked at her, you saw that she was thinking about something and clearly had no attention for your words. Though her eyes went back and forth from Doyoung to you, she wasn’t in the real world.

After a few minutes, Doyoung finally sat down as the last side dish was placed onto the table. When he sat down, also bringing Juna back from her little trip to another world. 

“Have a nice meal.” You and Doyoung said to each other but also to Juna who hummed with a small smile on her lips before she began to eat the things that had already been placed on her plate. It was silent after that, only the sounds of chewing and occasional shifting in the seats. You had to admit that it was weird to eat like this, at the same time it felt nostalgic to when the three of you were one happy family. It brought both sad and happy thoughts, and you had no idea which ones were overpowering.

Both of you looked at your daughter when she suddenly let out a quiet whine, pushing her half-full plate towards the center of the table. “I can’t eat” She whined and moved her hands in a small cross as a sign that she had no appetite anymore. In reality, she was very hungry though, but she had wanted to quicken the process on the little plan she had thought out a bit ago.

“Are you sure?” Doyoung asked her with a confused tone, she usually never said no to food and he had expected her to eat even better when you were also joining them. But Juna nodded her head a few times, then looked up and began to rub her eyes as if she was tired, tired way before her bedtime. The eyes of her parents made her know that she was being watched closely by them, she just knew such things. “I want home,” She said and reached over to you, slightly pulling at your sleeve.

You nodded your head and left the rest of the food on your plate untouched “we will go home” you said to her, believing that she genuinely was tired and in need to sleep. Aside from that, your week with her had begun so it was only normal that she went home with you and slept there. You stood up and took Juna from her seat, holding her in your arms. “We have to go Doyoung, I’ll come to pick up her clothes tomorrow,” you said but didn’t even remember that Doyoung was the one who drove you here and you were only able to take the bus or walk home. 

Doyoung stood up, he nodded his head and grabbed his car keys. You looked at him with questioning eyes but he let out a small chuckle. “I drove you here, remember?” he asked you which made you laugh as soon as you realized that he did drive you here. “That’s true,” You said and nodded your head. 

Both of you and Doyoung walked to the front door, putting on your shoes as quickly as possible to bring Juna to her bed at your house. Sometimes Doyoung glanced when he was reminded of the fact that you were in his clothes, one of his favorite outfits to be exact. 

Doyoung led both of you outside to the car again, trying to open the doors as quick as he could, the rain that had poured over you earlier, was now getting him wet as he was walking outside earlier than you. Once the doors were opened, he made sure you safely got the little girl in the car. Only when Juna had been in the car, he got in the car too and waited for you to do the same thing. “Let’s go” he mumbled once the three of you were seated and ready to go.

The drive to your home wasn’t long but the silence made the ride drag on longer than needed. Sitting in the car next to Doyoung, gave you the urge to hold onto his hand on moments that he didn’t need his second hand, but you refrained yourself from doing so each time the thought only crossed your mind. 

Though, instead, out of an old habit, Doyoung’s hand reached out for yours at an unexpected moment. You hadn't even noticed the change until the warm feeling seemed to engulf your hand, which made you look down slightly, just to see his hand holding onto yours. The same way it would be a long time ago, and the feelings hadn’t changed either.

“Sorry,” Doyoung said once his eyes had a second to follow your glance, the hand holding ritual had been back before he even had realized it, his hand just had that urge and he had been too focused on the road. Though, he said sorry, it didn’t change the fact that he was holding onto your hand.

You gave him a small smile, one that indicated that it was fine because even if you were hesitant about it, at the same time you wished he would hold onto your hand forever. “It’s fine” you answered after a couple of seconds, slowly intertwining your fingers together while you spoke to your ex-fiance.

The silence came back to you two, but neither of you seemed to really pay much attention to it. It was as if the two of you were slowly warming up to each other again, even if it sometimes consisted of the silence being between the two of you. Too bad, it didn’t last longer than those few minutes. Too bad, Doyoung pulled away from your hand before he pulled up to the apartment building.

“I’ll take Juna out” Doyoung said to you and gave you a smile before he already got out of the car, he got Juna from her seat in the back while you got out of the passenger’s seat. Both of you walked around the car to get to each other’s side, leaving both of you to meet halfway. “She’s asleep,” He said with a small chuckle as he held the sleeping girl a bit more comfortable in his arms, now that he had gotten her out of the car, he knew he could hardly place her down somewhere because she would wake up. You looked at Juna, smiling sweetly at the cuteness of the girl that resembled Doyoung so much. Neither of you had known about her plan, and in the morning she probably would believe she was the cause to the ending.

“Thank you” You told Doyoung and smiled a bit at him, tilting your head as your mind went over the day you had: the part of the day without him but mostly the part where he came to get you and everything that happened after that. Doyoung didn’t really reply to your words, instead, he just started another subject to talk about. “Did you read the note?”

Your eyes shot up towards him when you heard the question, you knew what note he was talking about, at the same time you wanted to immediately act as if you had no idea what he was talking about. Your silence gave Doyoung an answer unexpectedly. “I’ve had that note the day we decided to give up” He said honestly, trying to hold Juna with one hand as the other hand went to yours, to hold onto. “But each day, I remember how beautiful we were in the past. I know it won’t be the same again, but I promise I won’t make the same mistake again. So, please, don’t slip away from me” He said, expressing the words like they were deep lyrics that he had found somewhere. But even if they were, you believed them completely, you believed his feelings because you shared the same ones. 

“Doyoung?” You asked soft which made him hum immediately as a sign you had all of his attention while you wanted to speak up. “My note said: ‘don’t leave, with love y/n” you admitted. On your nightstand was the same kind of note that he had on his, but yours used fewer words, though it was a scream for the same words that he had been able to express. Your notes were far from the same, only the ‘with love’ remained.

Without any more words being said, the two of you stood closer. It felt like a sad embrace that both of you were holding each other in before your arms even collided with the other’s body. But once into the embrace, it was like a lost puzzle piece being found after being abandoned for so long. “I love you” he whispered, his lips moving to kiss your forehead. You couldn’t help but smile slightly at the words you hadn’t heard for so long “I love you too.”

The puzzle wasn’t complete, it never would be.

But at least the missing pieces found each other, and they would continue to find the other missing pieces

[naturepointstheway]

"I can't sleep" prompt (Alternate Max and Choe because we need more of them)

In which I experiment with an idea that has been marinating in my brain for a while: what if Alt!Max was the passenger in the SUV that totaled Chloe’s beloved hybrid? Takes place in 2011–I see alt!Max at this point as still being a little more like the Max we know from the main timeline, and I’d say something like this would really hit hard for any iteration of Max, be she alt!Max or main!Max. Chloe’s POV.

Chloe hates waking up these days to her immobile, numb body and the neck brace restricting any movement of her head. All she can do when she opens her eyes to the miasma of fatigue and a constant aching in her skull, is just stare at whatever happens to be in front of her or in her peripheral view. She doesn’t want to be alive, doesn’t want to live like this; she wishes–but does not say it aloud–to have died immediately in the crash. So she didn’t have to wake up in hospital, literally unable to move a muscle. So she didn’t wake up to her parents trying and failing to hide their tears of relief when she opened her eyes for the first time since the accident. At least the painkillers meant she hardly ever dreamed, and if she did, she never remembered them on waking up to the same white walls, the same machines attached to or stuck inside her, the same neck brace, the same everything. 

She can’t feel any modicum of relief or happiness that her friends had come in to visit her in the hospital, or at the very least had sent her flowers and cards to the ward. It was nice, but what could she even do with them? And all the flowers and cards and well-wishers in the world would never help her move or feel anything below her neck ever again. What was the point? They were just sorry for her, sending cards with nonsense stuff like “Get well soon!” and “Hope you get better!” and “Thinking of you”. No one offered to help her with anything–any of her favourite music they could bring, along with an ipod and headphones? There was a tv in this room–what about her favourite movies? What she wouldn’t give for a rewatch of Blade Runner. Back to the Future would be nice, or even Groundhog Day. Just anything, anything to keep her mind off her now useless physical state of being. 

If only Max was here–but Chloe hasn’t heard anything of her, not even a letter or card, let alone visit. She wanted to be angry at Max for never rushing to her side, just to be with her But she doesn’t have the energy to even summon any stronger feelings beyond disappointment. She’d forgive Max for not being here in a heartbeat if she ever visited her at all in the hospital. None of her friends mattered nowhere near as much as Max, who wasn’t even here, not yet anyway. She’d help Chloe with anything, surely, doing it in a heartbeat. 

Please don’t abandon me, Max…

Chloe has long lost count of how many days she has been in the hospital, for each today that passes seems exactly like yesterday, and tomorrow would be the same. The only thing that really changed was the sky outside her window–rainy, overcast, sunny, or all three in one hour. The stars moved past her window as they always did, every night. 

The mornings are the same, the afternoons, the evenings, the nights. Always. 

Until she wakes up one late afternoon from yet another dreamless sleep, to see she is not alone on her bed–someone is sitting in a chair brought flush next to the bed, their arms and head resting up against Chloe’s side, carefully avoiding the IV line. She only needs to see the short brown hair to know it’s Max–her Max. Max Caulfield. Chloe’s mouth twitches into a very brief, faint smile, but it’s the first smile in days. 

Chloe strains to say Max’s name, but for the trach newly inserted in her throat, connected by a tube to a ventilator. The neck brace wasn’t helping matters much either.  

“Max?” 

Max doesn’t move, doesn’t react. She may as well have fallen asleep right there in her chair, resting her head and arms on the bed. 

“Hey…Maxine.” 

A little groan. “It’s Max. You know that.” 

Max falls silent, but a second later, her head jolts up, straightening her posture up enough to make eye contact with Chloe, whose smile faded before it even appeared on her lips at all. 

Max looks terrible. Her hair, usually so tidy and cute in its bob style, is limp and looks like it hasn’t been showered for several days. Dark rings shadow the skin under her bloodshot eyes, and her face is so pale that her freckles look even darker than usual. Her clothes, usually tidy and ironed, look like they were fetched from the laundry pile, all rumpled and tired-looking. 

“You look awful,” Chloe remarks. 

Max slumps back on the chair, hands clasped together, shoulders hunched up and tense. She chews her bottom lip, looking like she’s barely holding back her tears. 

“I can’t sleep,” Max mumbles, voice weak and so quiet Chloe had almost missed what she’d said. 

It’s hard to talk, and it wears Chloe out to force her voice box to work, but she doesn’t care. Max is here, and that’s all that matters right now. 

“Why?” 

Max is quiet–too quiet–as she bends forward to rest her head in her hands, hair falling forward to cover her face. 

What I’d fucking give to hug you right now. What the hell happened? 

After what feels like a long minute, Max raises her head again, hands falling limp in her lap. Her eyes lock onto Chloe’s, gaze never wavering away. 

“It’s…it’s my fault,” Max says in a monotonic voice, “But everyone keeps telling me it’s not.” 

Chloe doesn’t have a good feeling about this. Nevertheless, she stays quiet, silently urging Max to continue. She can hear Max’s shuddering inhalation before speaking again. 

“Chloe, I was there.” 

What? She saw–

“I saw everything. I was–” Max’s arms wrap tight around herself, hands gripping at her shoulders. “I was the passenger.” 

“The SUV?” Chloe rasps, a flash of memory passing through her thoughts–the SUV out of control, ramming into the passenger side of the car, the shattering windscreen–

“Yes. I was–am–on a road trip with some friends, and our driver was an older cousin of one of them. Full license and everything.” Max’s fingers grip so tight on her shoulders, Chloe can see the girl’s knuckles turning white. “We ran out of snacks and…and I volunteered to go with my friend’s cousin for more from the grocery store.” 

Chloe can already see where this is going, but she stays quiet, letting Max tell it at her pace, taking the time she needs. 

“It was late, and there was barely any traffic–and she had to go and speed down the roads just because there wasn’t any cars. I’d–I should’ve done something, Chloe. I should’ve. If I’d have known–” Max’s words catch in her throat, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a few seconds before slowly opening them again. “Chloe…I swear, I never want to hurt you. Everything…it’s so fucking unfair. You didn’t deserve this–if I could–I’d do anything if it meant you…you could move again. But I didn’t stop her, and I–I’m…god.” Max’s hands convulse in her lap. “I saw you. It–I hate thinking about it.” A straggling inhalation, followed by an exhalation. “Chloe…I thought you were dead. I saw–I saw you. You were…” Max’s words fail her and she shakes her head, looking away, cheeks wet. 

Fuck. No wonder she can’t sleep. 

“There was…I don’t want to think about it.” 

“Then don’t.” 

“I can’t! I close my eyes, and I don’t want to sleep. Because I know–I know I’ll see everything again. I don’t want to sleep. Ever again.” Max’s fingers rake through her limp hair, stilling on her scalp. “There was so much glass. So much blood. You were…I thought…your parents should hate me right now–but they don’t. They say–they say it’s not my fault. But Chloe, I can’t help thinking it. If I’d done something–”

“Max.” 

Chloe’s forceful use of Max’s name shuts the other girl up, blue eyes locking back on hers. 

“Not. Your. Fault.”

Silence. Max’s eyes do not waver from Chloe’s face, but nor does she speak again. 

“You weren’t driving…right?” 

Max shakes her head. 

“You didn’t know what would happen.” 

Another shake of her head. Chloe tries her best to smile, aching so much to get up and pull Max into her arms, let her cry into her shoulder, it’s bordering on torture. 

“See?” Chloe wishes it wasn’t so hard to talk. “Not your fault. Mom and dad were right.” 

“I hope so.” 

“I know so.” 

“I wish I could believe that, Chloe.” 

Max just stares down at her hands, looking, if possible, even more despondent than before. Chloe wishes she could move her arms, just so she can grab Max’s shoulders, shake some sense into her, make her see that no one held her to blame, believed her to be at fault. She wants to be able to walk, so she can grab Max and take a walk with her to the only actually decent cafe in the hospital, because she looks like she hasn’t eaten in days either. 

Chloe might not be able to hold Max ever again, but still, she could think of the next closest thing. It wouldn’t be remotely the same, but still. If it gave Max comfort…

“Max?” 

“Yeah?” Max’s voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Come here.” 

She hesitates at first, a long moment passing before Max stands up, shaky on her feet, her hand reaching out to the side-table to stabilise herself as she shuffles up next to the bedside, looking down at Chloe with swollen eyes. 

Chloe offered a small grin, gazing up at her friend. “Damn. You’re so much taller. That growth spurt finally came.”

Max looks down at her own feet, then back up at Chloe’s face. “Really?” 

“Max…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I can’t hug you, but…” Chloe has to pause to rest her voice for a few moments. “Would it help if you…held me?” 

Max’s eyes widen as Chloe’s words sink into her. “You sure?” 

“Sure.” 

Several seconds of hesitance pass before Max carefully sits on the edge of the bed, facing Chloe, leaning to carefully tuck one arm under her shoulders, the other around her chest before resting her head on Chloe’s. Chloe closes her eyes, grateful she can at least feel Max’s warm, but still damp with tears, cheek on her forehead. She hears shoes tumble to the floor–one, two–before Max pulls up her socked feet onto the bed, so she is resting against Chloe. It’s not an easy feat by any means for them both to fit on the same bed, but not impossible. Chloe opens her eyes again, glances down at her feet under the blankets, at Max’s resting next to hers. 

“Oh…still a midget,” Chloe teases in a whisper, “Thought you’d grown taller for a moment there.” 

A muffled sniffle, a little noise that might’ve been the weakest of giggles. 

“Thanks, Chloe.” 

Another moment, quiet and filled with the gravity of Max’s remorse and the grim state of her own body. 

“Not your fault, Max. Not your fault.” 

[littlemissmeggie]

@xoxosoulshine mentioned you in a post

@littlemissmeggie congrats on making it past Wednesday though happy 6months bb!! Hopefully you'll get to relax a little this weekend

thank you, my friend. i’ll just be happy after, like, 12:30 on monday afternoon. i had my walkthrough with the mall manager scheduled for monday at 11:00 but we were finished cleaning at about 4:00 yesterday and the truck had picked up all of our IT equipment and everything at 11:30. we were just waiting for one guy to come to pick up a ladder he’d bought so i went over to her office and asked if she would mind doing it while we waited rather than on monday. it was only about 10 minutes, she just walked around and looked at the fixtures we’d left behind and checked to make sure everything was clean. she was actually impressed with how clean everything was. but she didn’t like that we’d sold the butcherblock tops to the cash register/gift wrap stations. the tops hadn’t been on the fixture sales list—the whole station had been but nobody wanted to buy them because they’re 13.5′ long and hardwired into the floor—but also hadn’t been in the exclusion list. according to all of the fixture sales paperwork, things could be sold as long as it didn’t cause any damage and the only damage removing the tops caused was some screw holes and a few scratches. my right-hand woman barb and i figured that they could just replace the top with another butcherblock or even a cheap countertop from home depot. now i’m worried that she’ll make a fuss and it will somehow lose me my $2,000 “incentive bonus” that i’m supposed to be getting for staying on through this emotional hell, working nonessential retail through a global pandemic. and that i’m counting on because i don’t have another job yet and i need money. once i confirm with the district manager on monday (she still thinks i’m doing the walkthrough on monday at 11:00 because i’ll be paid for the whole day if i do it monday.) that i’ve done the walkthrough, then i’m done. i hope the fact that my store was #5 in sales for the eastern region and #9 in the company out of 51 stores (they told us that like we should be proud of ourselves. like yeah, i’m so proud that i helped you help me successfully lose my job.) will help me out, as will the fact that we left the store clean, i submitted all of my employee terminations and timesheet edits on my laptop before i left yesterday, did everything else i was asked. (we tore down our IT stuff on thursday so it could be shipped back.) anyway, i’m just really stressed about that and can’t wait until i can tell the DM that i’m finished, key is handed in (already is but she doesn’t know that), i’m done.

i was supposed to have an hour-long message today. i got a call this morning that my massage therapist had a cancellation so she could do a 90 minute, which is what i usually do. so i rushed to get there... and got stuck in an awful detour because a transformer blew a half mile up the road from the massage place. i called and ended up rescheduling for monday night because i wasn’t even going to make it in time for the hour massage. 

so i decided to at least salvage the drive and go to at&t because i need a new phone. i went in and they put me on the “waitlist” so they wouldn’t have too many people sitting in the store waiting and told me they would call me in about 20 minutes. i went for a walk around the plaza (same plaza where sur la table is), went into barnes & noble, sat in my car for a bit, and almost an hour later went back into at&t. they told me they’d tried to call me. i had no missed calls. my phone might be having some problems (hence wanting a new phone) but missing calls isn’t one of them. so i went to talk with one of the guys and because my name on my driver's license doesn’t match the name my dad has for me on his family plan (meggie isn’t my legal name but i’ve literally never been called my legal name except in... legal situations.), they need the passcode for my dad’s account. i called my dad. he doesn’t know it but it’s at home in his notebook with all his passwords and usernames. he was driving home from cape cod and didn’t have his notebook with him. 

now i’m home in a terrible mood with a headache, stressed and anxious, and i feel like crying. god.

[completelypeccable]

Can I Have This Dance?

Chp 3. Dancing Queen

/In this house, we love and appreciate Duke Thomas./

Chp 2

Chp 1

“You are the Dancing Queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen!” Duke yelled along with Stephanie, leaning across the divider in the front seats of the car. 

Tim kicked Steph’s chair, “Hey, pay attention!”

“Stop being jealous that Duke loves me more than you-“

“Steph?”

“Yeah, Duke?”

“Directions?”

“Oh yeah, take a left up here, then...” Steph rattled off. Cassandra snickered from the back seat. 

“Feel that beat like a smooth machine!” Duke continued. 

“That’s so not the-“

“YOU CAN DANCE-“

“Why did we let him drive,” Jason grumbled. 

“Hey, mister spontaneously alive,” the car took a sharp left, but Steph turned completely around. “You don’t have a license, remember?”

“What are you, some goody two shoes piec-“

“Steph, what are you doing?! Buckle-“

Steph gently shushed Tim by smothering his face. He squawked indignantly. 

“Licking won’t work on me, tweety bird.”

Duke eyed them through the rear view mirror. 

“I am the only responsible person in this car,” he sighed. 

Cass frowned. 

“Besides Cassie, but she baby.”

“Oh she baby,” with a yelp, Steph’s arm was disengaged by a jab to the inside of her elbow. 

“And babies can’t drive,” Tim wiped his mouth, “right Damian?”

Tim twisted around (still buckled) to face the glare, but Damian wasn’t listening.  He was leaned against Cass, who lightly traced her nails across his skin with one hand. She winked, pressing a kiss to Damian’s forehead nestled at her collarbone. Damian held her other hand on her lap, splaying her fingers out, in with a barely-there smile.  More of a content line, really. Tim felt relieved that the kid was doing as well as he was, all things considered.

The older two shared a smile. Cass could make anyone melt, but Damian was always uncharacteristically soft with her.

And she loved to coddle him. 

Jason groaned. “How much farther?”

“Why are you so upset?” Tim poked his side.

“I just like to complain. But I am also too big for this car.”

“Oh, good shotgun?”

“Yes, fair driver?”

“For how long must we continue our travels?”

“Until dear Jason loses the will to live-“

“Steph!“

“Would someone please shut up my impulse control?”

Tim leaned his head onto her shoulder, hugging her around the seat. “You say the sweetest things.”

“You can dance, you can try~“

Jason flopped his head onto the seat behind him.

Duke smiled, singing along to the song in his head. The pulse in his mind was always calmer when he wasn’t alone.  After everything that had been going on, he was happy to see his somehow-sibling-esque-figures doing alright.  Being almost normal, even. They planned a family zoo trip! Granted it was partially because Damian was confiscated from his father a-la-angry vigilante style, and Steph and Cass immediately decided to make him act like a normal kid (who is a bit overly attached to animals) to distract them all from that sad reality, and they were all going along for the process because they were grieving something awful- but still! In some way, they were being normal.  Normal-ish.

Whatever.

Today was going to be a good day, he decided.  

...

The Gotham zoo was busy for a Monday, since it was beautiful weather and a day off from school. 

Duke supposed they could all use the break. 

“Hey guys,” Steph started as they stood in front of the narrow window of the bear enclosure. “So, we mostly own the night, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But Duke goes out during the day,”

“It’s the light thing,” he said.

“Yeah, the light thing,” Steph waved her hands. “So, anyways, I get that you’re the sunshine child- pun totally intended- but like, you’re strongest when the sun is strongest, right? That makes you-“

“Oh stop,” Tim cackled.

“-a fire bender! And these losers here are water benders!”

Duke gasped and began bending nothing, to Steph’s delight. 

Swirling his arms, Jason engaged him in battle. Even though they turned heads, their moves became more elaborate than strictly necessary.

Well, Duke guessed none of this was -strictly- necessary.

Cass hummed thoughtfully, patting Damian’s head while he watched the bears lumber towards the water. 

“Us yes. Baby, no.”

Tim considered this as Jason nearly sent Duke into a wayward couple.

“He’s an earth bender,” Steph decided, spinning in lazy circles. 

“I have no idea what you people are talking about. Please let me watch the bears in peace.”

“Wait,” Steph practically launched herself against the boys. 

“Don’t you mean the platypus bears?”

Duke backed away from the angry women.  He scratched his chin and leaned over the plaque. “It just says bear here.”

“You mean skunk bear, then?” Tim grinned.

“Or armadillo bear?” Jason’s size was a gift sometimes, as he leaned back and squashed Damian against the window.

“What are you-“

“Gopher bear?” Steph giggled. 

“Just says bear here,” Duke shrugged. 

Cass’s spoke softly, but precisely, as if tasting each sound. 

“Weird place.”

“Weird people,” Damian grumbled. Jason leaned farther back, further pancaking his cheek against the glass.

“Dancing queen, face as red as a tangerine!” Duke poked his nose. 

“Oh, that reminds me, we need to get some fried Oreos-“

“How does that-“

“Shush, Tim. I need fried Oreos clogging my arteries as soon as humanly possible. Come on.”

“Heck yes,” Jason grinned, picking Damian up like a very angry yoga mat. “Steph is in charge now, sorry Duke.”

“As the only capable adult here, I say we need to eat an actual lunch, too.”

Tim took Damian, only to walk with him upside down over his shoulder.  They all pretended not to notice his smile underneath the half-hearted promises of violence.

“Nuggets,” Cass prophesied. 

Steph linked their arms and led the way to the food court. 

...

Duke had been looking forward to this trip all week, and it didn’t disappoint. They saw all the animals, ate terrible food in a less than sanitary environment, then chased each other around and generally made themselves a nuisance to society. 

It was great. 

Some highlights? Cass dared Jason to eat half a hot dog in a single bite. He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, then walked into a pole. Tim fell asleep on top of Steph and mumbled about robot bunnies.  Duke carried Damian around on his shoulders, accidentally walked him into some tree branches, and laughed so hard he dropped him. 

Of course, it had been weird that the zoo hadn’t bumped up the number of workers to match crowd sizes, but it was fine. Just took a little longer to do things. And the place was a little messier.

They were just paranoid, is all.

Cass tossed the purple plush snake around her shoulders as they exited the gift shop to the center plaza. The tail hit Steph, who adjusted her peacock sunglasses with an upturned nose. 

The crowd rushed around them like a steady stream of fish (“Only animal metaphors for the zoo, folks”). Their imposing shark, Jason, frowned as he pushed his way through the flow. 

Damian offered Duke an animal cracker, and he happily picked out a zebra. 

It had been a good day. 

Tim had waited outside for them, citing important business. He smiled and lowered his phone from his ear as they got closer to his seat at the fountain. 

“Hey, Dames, can I have one?” He asked. 

Damian raised a single brow.

Tim could fake emotions with the worst of them. Oh, wait, animals. Dang it, Steph.  Like a honey bee could take a casual stroll.

“And here I was going to offer you my phone to talk to Dick-“

Damian shoved the whole bag at him and grabbed the phone. 

Tim laughed as Damian scurried a small distance away, plunking down just outside the bathrooms.  Twin paintings- one a giraffe, the other a flamingo- labeled the two single person stalls. 

��Any news from Dick?” Steph asked, settling against Tim’s side. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, watching Damian smile into the receiver. “He said he was on his way back.”

It was funny how Jason thought with his face sometimes. Duke could feel the confusion. 

“Wait, isn’t he undercover somewhere in Asia right now taking down Some MobTM with ties to the League of Assassins?”

“From the inside, yeah.”

“And he just, what, finished up early?”

“Pretty much.”

Jason threw up his hands, “I hate this family.”

Steph laughed, dragging Cass half onto her lap while Tim stared distracted at the crowd. 

Just like that, Jason’s face hardened. Following his line of vision, Duke watched a teen scurry out of the bathroom to the main directory on the other side of the plaza. His hood was up and he looked neither right nor left. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jason said, slipping into the crowd flow. 

Probably nothing, Duke thought, watching Cass threaten to push Steph into the fountain. 

“I’d take the quarters, so the joke’s on you.”

“Stealing,” Cass tutted. 

“I’ll look good doing it.”

An eye roll. 

Tim’s fingers rapidly tapped against the stone. 

“Dames, wrap it up, we’re headed out,” he called. 

Damian gave a thumbs up. 

See, it was still a good day. Duke breathed deeply. 

It was fine. 

It was-

The fire alarm went off at the directory.  The crowd turned to look.

Tim tensed, and Duke felt the shock shoot up his spine as yellow light pulsed and swarmed toward the bathrooms. 

Oh no. 

A high pitched whine. 

“Get down!” Duke yelled. 

The bathroom exploded. They threw themselves to the ground just in time to avoid the brunt of the heat and debris. Dirt and rock sprayed in his face. Smoke filled the air, dark and thick. 

Tim scrambled to his feet, coughing. 

“Damian!”

No, Duke thought. 

There was so much smoke. 

They all scrambled toward the bathroom, but the wall where Damian had stood was half rubble and the kid was nowhere to be found. 

Duke stared where he last saw him, but the smoke obscured most of the light. 

Why is there so much smoke?, he thought. It was hard to get a reading. Come on, Duke. The scene kept pulsing, then disappearing. His head hurt, he couldn’t breathe, but the static blur began to form. Come on. 

Tim ran into the building. 

Duke fought through the haze until the blue-tinged flecks obeyed and the scene spotted into focus. He saw Damian drop to the ground just as the wall flew apart. Stray debris littered his body, and a brick to the skull knocked him unconscious. The smoke poured through, but just before everything blacked out, a lumbering figure dragged the kid through the broken wall into complete darkness. 

The present rushed back. Duke inhaled smoke, sinking to the ground. His chest felt like someone was de-stringing his muscles like spaghetti. Twist, twisting the fork. 

“No!” Steph screamed. Tim came out alone and choking for air. Steph pushed her way in, but Duke knew it was useless. 

Damian was gone. 

[ducksmode]

Launchdad

Drake admires what a good dad Launchpad is.

Part Three of the “A Father, a Daughter, and a Launchpad” series.

Drake groans as the morning sunlight hits his eyes, turning over in bed to hide his face in his fiancé’s chest, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Peeking an eye open, he lets out a quiet ‘Hm?’, confused for only a second until he catches a glimpse of the clock on Launchpad’s night stand, he was probably dropping Gosalyn off at school and picking up Scrooge. 

He wakes up with a tired sigh, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep unless it was in Launchpad’s arms. Taking a moment to admire his engagement ring, Drake smiles to himself as he twiddles with it, and decides to pass the time by looking for deals on decorations and suits. 

When he finally hears the front door open and shut he looks over at the clock, noticing it took him a little bit longer than usual to get back home. He can hear him fussing about in the kitchen, and he pouts when he realizes he’s not coming back to bed just yet. 

Putting the wedding planning on hold, Drake gets up and finds one of Launchpad’s shirts from off the ground, slipping it on before stepping out. He finds Launchpad putting away groceries and starting on some pancakes, and his growling stomach gives him away.

Launchpad turns once he hears him, his bright smile practically blinding Drake as he gathers him up in his arms and smothers him with kisses, the smaller duck weakly protesting with half-hearted punches to his chest.

“Unhand me, fiend! I’ll have you know I have a fiancé!” Drake grumbles, giggling when Launchpad pecks at his neck, tickling him. 

“Lucky guy,” Launchpad chuckles, setting him down on the kitchen counter.

The domestic mornings they share now fill Drake with more love than he ever believed he could experience in his lifetime. As he watches Launchpad move around the kitchen getting the ingredients while chatting about the drive with Gos, he wonders what his and Gosalyn’s life would have been like if Launchpad McQuack had not crashed into it (and onto him).

-

Every morning, like clockwork, Launchpad gets up after a quick two hours of shuteye after Darkwing patrol to shuttle a usually zombie-like Gosalyn off to school. But not before a quick kiss to the forehead and a quiet ‘I love you’ from both fiancé and daughter, then they’re off to make sure she gets to class on time.

Drake watches them go each time with a fond smile before passing out, too exhausted from a night of fighting to struggle with sleep.

“Noooooo… don’ go…” Drake whines, clinging to Launchpad’s arm as he tries to leave the bed, frowning when he pulls himself free easily but grabs his hand.

“Gotta take Gos to school and Mr. McD to work then I’ll be right back, ok?” he reassures, kissing each finger gently. Drake snatches his hand back, opening one eye to glare at his ‘too-handsome-for-seven-in-the-morning’ fiancé.

“Traitor… I’m calling off the wedding,” he sniffs, turning away from Launchpad and nestling further into the bed. Launchpad chuckles behind him, nuzzling into the back of his neck and kissing his shoulder.

“Aw come on, don’t you care about our daughter’s education?” Launchpad hums, smiling into Drake’s palm when he pushes it against his face, shoving him away. “Just go, leave me to sleep all by myself…” Drake sighs, unable to keep his beak from quirking up when Launchpad pecks his temple, whispering a soft ‘I love you’ into his feathers before he leaves.

“How are you never tired waking up this early?” Drake yawns, watching Launchpad bustle about the room from his comfy spot on the bed.

“I gotta take my baby girl to school,” Launchpad says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, smile full of love. “How could I be tired when I get to spend more time with the best daughter in the world?”

“I heard that! Flattery will get you nowhere, Pops!” Gosalyn shouts from somewhere in the house and they both laugh.

It’s a terribly hot weekend in both Duckburg and her sister city, and so Launchpad suggests a visit to the beach to cool off. After a quick call to Donald to see if the kids would like to have a beach day as well, during which he finds out they were just about to call him to ask the same thing, the station wagon is packed up for a day at the beach then they’re off.

Gosalyn bounces excitedly in the backseat, singing along loudly with Launchpad to whatever garbage the radio is playing, and Drake shakes his head at their antics but he wouldn’t trade his family for the world.

Once they get there, they walk along the beach for a minute, Drake grabbing Launchpad’s bare arm with one hand and holding Gosalyn’s hand with the other, finding Donald and the kids after a bit of searching.

“Launchpad!” Dewey yells when he sees his best friend, taking a running leap at him and making him drop everything to catch the triplet. 

Drake lets Gosalyn go so she can run and give Webby and the other boys a hug, watching them all with a smile. Donald comes up to give him a tight hug, and Drake didn’t realize how much he missed the other duck. They really needed a break like this, between wedding planning and crime fighting there hadn’t been much time for just being with family and relaxing. 

After helping Launchpad set up the umbrella and beach chairs, he makes both him and Gosalyn sit down to make sure they put on sunscreen, fussing over Gosalyn a little more just to mess with her before letting her go play, watching her go with a wave.

Drake is suddenly pulled back into Launchpad’s lap with an indignant squawk, laughing when his fiancé nudges at his ticklish neck.

“Launchpad!” Drake scolds, turning about to fix him with a stern glare that quickly falls apart into a smile.

“Think you missed a spot, babe.” Launchpad chuckles, “Right here on my beak,” he says, puckering his beak for a kiss but Drake just snorts at him, pushing his face away.

“You dork, get away from me and go make sure our daughter doesn’t somehow set fire to the beach.” Drake chides, giving in and settling for one peck when Launchpad doesn’t let him go. Looking pleased with himself, Launchpad gives him one last kiss on the cheek before throwing his crop top off and running after the kids.

Watching him go with a happy sigh, Drake settles down next to Donald, taking the wine glass offered to him with many thanks.

“Wait, should you be drinking? Didn’t you drive here?” Drake asks, raising a brow as he sips his drink.

Donald shakes his head, making a show of taking a big gulp, “Storkules dropped us off before he went to work. He’s gonna pick us up when he gets out.” 

“I was gonna ask where your man was,” Drake teases, nudging Donald with his elbow, “When did he get his driver's license that's awesome!”

They talk for a little while about this and that, catching up on each others lives and how their kids were doing until said children all run over complaining about being hungry. They chow down on the fruit and sandwiches they brought like the little monsters they are before settling down to make a sand castle all together. Launchpad lays down on the sand next to Drake, resting his head in his lap, who leans down for a quick kiss, ignoring Gosalyn’s yell to ‘Get a room!’.

Launchpad grabs Drake’s left hand to kiss the ring there, smiling up at him and Drake can’t not give him one more kiss, snorting at the dazed expression his fiancé gives him when he pulls away. Seeing how tired Launchpad was in the way his eyelids droop, Drake threads his fingers through his wet hair, “Go ahead and take a nap, babe. Donald and I have got the kids.” he whispers, kissing his forehead.

He quickly does just that, snoozing in Drake’s lap, who takes the opportunity to practice his hair braiding skills, tying different little braids throughout his locks. Sensing something evil afoot, Drake looks up to see the kids have gotten closer, Launchpad in their sights.

“If you let us bury Pops I’ll clean my room!” Gosalyn whisper-shouts, and Drake hums, pretending to think over the proposition.

“Do the dishes tomorrow, too, and you’ve got a deal.” he offers, and Gosalyn pouts before nodding and shaking his hand.

“He drives a hard bargain…” Louie notes.

Gosalyn hushes him before they all get to work quietly burying Launchpad in sand, his sleeping fiancé none the wiser. Once they’re done they make little designs in the sand covering him, giggling as they give him a mermaids tail and write messages in the sand.

Deciding they’ve had enough fun, Drake nudges Launchpad awake, relaying the situation to him quietly while the kids are distracted. When the kids least expect it, Launchpad bursts from the sand with a monster roar, chasing them about before scooping up as many as he can get in his arms, throwing himself into the water with them.

Drake admires how good Launchpad is with the kids, able to make them laugh just as easily as he can comfort them when they’re down. Donald watches him stare fondly at his fiancé with a smile, “Soooo, when’s the wedding?” he asks.

Drake turns to him with a blush, “We haven’t decided on a date yet, things have been pretty busy.” he sighs, “But we’ve been planning out decorations and looking at venues-” he pauses as Donald snorts into his drink.

“Venues? As if Scrooge would let you guys get married anywhere but the mansion.” Donald laughs, and Drake raises a brow.

“Really? I didn’t even think about asking him, he’s done so much for us already.” he shakes his head.

“He loves you guys! He may seem all grumpy and hardheaded, which he is, but he’s got a soft spot for anyone in his family and would do anything you guys asked in a heartbeat.” Donald smiles.

The conversation turns to wedding talk and Drake doesn’t miss the dreamy eyed look Donald gets.

“What about you and Mr. Adonis?” he asks, smirking when Donald turns bright red, sputtering and stammering through his words.

Before Donald can try to formulate words, Launchpad comes jogging up, and Drake is too distracted by how he looks without a shirt to notice him reaching down to pick him up, and he’s suddenly in his arms getting kisses pressed all about his face. Laughing embarrassingly loud, Drake tries to squirm out of his hold.

“It’s been a while since I told you I love you, just wanted to make sure you don’t forget.” Launchpad says after one last kiss, and Drake feels so in love he wants to get married right here and now.

It’s a Friday night, which means its one of the rare nights they let Gosalyn come out on patrol with them. They’re cruising through the streets of St. Canard, stopping a few petty thefts and purse snatchers, leaving a cookie crumb trail of criminals for the inept police to pick up. It’s a pretty calm night, Gosalyn whooping from her seat in Launchpad’s lap in the sidecar while they ride around, until the sound of a store alarm catches Darkwing’s attention.

He finds the source of the alarm, a jewelry store which is currently in the process of being robbed, and parks the Ratcatcher in a nearby alley, telling Gosalyn to stay put. He and Launchpad rush over, throwing down a smoke bomb to catch the thief by surprise.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night, I am the ugly broach on the lapel of crime, I am… Darkwing Duck!” he shouts, flaring out his cape as he emerges from the smoke, Launchpad at his side. The criminal is a dog of average build who looks more scared than villainous, and he goes to make a run for it but Drake tackles him to the floor, struggling for a bit until a sharp pain in his hand makes him flinch back with a hiss, giving the dog the opportunity to kick him off and run out the door, too quick for Launchpad to grab.

Looking at his hand to assess the damage, he finds a bloody cut there, not too deep or dangerous, just annoying and painful.

“You alright, DW?” Launchpad asks, picking him up off the floor.

“Yea, yea, let's just get after him!” he urges, taking off after the dog, finding a couple of dropped pieces of jewelry headed in the direction of the alley they left the Ratcatcher in. A sick feeling in his stomach has Drake pick up the pace, turning down the alley to find the criminal, and Gosalyn.

“S-Stop right there!” the dog cries, holding Gosalyn tighter around the beak, closer to his chest, and the glint of the knife under her chin makes Drake’s blood run cold. Launchpad soon appears next to him, about to ask why he’s stopped when he takes in the scene. Gosalyn kicks and squirms in his hold, her muffled cries making Launchpad see red.

“Just-just throw over the keys to this thing and leave us and nothing happens to her!” he demands, gesturing around wildly with his knife hand. Gosalyn has the keys but this idiot obviously doesn’t know, so Darkwing begins acting as best as he can.

“Alright, alright! My partner here has the keys, right?” he says calmly, glancing over at Launchpad, who looks more serious than he’s ever seen him. He catches a glimpse of the crowbar at Launchpad’s feet, which he has been slowly inching toward unbeknownst to the criminal.

“I’ve got the keys alright, DW…” Launchpad grits out, nudging his foot under the crowbar, getting ready. 

“Well hand em over already!” the dog cries, waving that knife hand around again when he speaks and Drake gets a good idea of what Launchpad is planning.

“Put the girl down and I’ll toss them, ok?” Launchpad tries, but he doubts he’ll follow his demand, is counting on it actually.

“As if! Just throw them-” he begins, waving his knife hand, away from Gosalyn’s neck, just like Launchpad had hoped, giving him the couple of seconds he needed to kick the crowbar up into the air, catching it with one hand and throwing it with deadly precision. The dog doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence or react as he’s thwacked with a face full of metal, crumpling to the ground with a curse.

Darkwing and his partner sprint to their daughter, Drake plucking her out of the criminals limp grasp with his good hand and holding her close, making sure she wasn’t hurt. Launchpad kicks his knife away before picking the dog up with one hand curled in his shirt, slamming him into a nearby wall and raising his other fist in case he still has any fight left in him. The criminal groans, glaring up at Launchpad, nose bloodied, and likely broken, thanks to him.

“You messed with the wrong family, bud.” Launchpad growls before punching his lights out, Drake and Gosalyn watching with wide eyes. Dropping the dog to the floor, Launchpad turns around, that angry look in his eyes gone in favor of concern, coming over to fret over Gosalyn and hug both she and Drake close.

“Pops that was awesome! That guy didn’t even know what was coming, and the way you-” Gosalyn stops as Launchpad pulls back from the hug, looking down at her with an expression so serious she wilts in her dad’s arms, going quiet.

Launchpad looks at the sky and the slowly rising sun, “Let’s go home.” is all he says, going to tie up the criminal and place him in front of the jewelry store. Gosalyn and Drake share a look at Launchpad’s unusual behavior, and Gosalyn gets the feeling they’re gonna have a “serious talk” when they get home.

The ride home is unbearably quiet, Launchpad’s arms squeezing the slightest bit tighter around her the whole way.

Once home, Drake tells Gosalyn to go get ready for bed before following Launchpad as he walks silently into the bedroom. Closing the door quietly, Drake comes up and wraps his arms about Launchpad from behind. He grabs his hands from where they wind around his chest, and Drake gasps at the sudden flare of pain.

“Your hand… why didn’t you tell me?” Launchpad asks, turning in his hold to give him a stern look. Drake rubs at his neck sheepishly with his free hand, “To be completely honest, I forgot about it.” 

Shaking his head but smiling at his fiancé, Launchpad leads him into the bathroom to get him patched up. He cleans him up with care, making sure the cut is properly disinfected before wrapping it up slowly, a far off look in his eyes.

“What if we lost her tonight?” Launchpad whispers, stilling his movements save for a slight shake in his hands.

Drake had a feeling this conversation was coming but it still makes his breath hitch in his throat just at the thought of something happening to Gosalyn. Grabbing Launchpad’s shaking hands in his own, Drake looks up at him, waiting until he meets his eyes to begin speaking.

“We didn’t, that's what matters. You’ll drive yourself crazy thinking about ‘what if’, so let's just focus on ‘what is’, here and now. You and I, and our daughter safe at home.” he says, reaching up to cup his cheek with his good hand.

Launchpad leans his face into his palm as tears spill from his eyes, and Drake frowns as he only shakes harder.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you… either of you…” Launchpad whimpers, gathering Drake up into his arms to cry into his neck. “I love you both, so much… I can’t lose you…”

Drake tries his best to not start crying as well, just holding on tight to Launchpad and rubbing his back to calm him down. Launchpad’s sobs slow until he’s just sniffling against Drake, calming down and pulling away.

“Sorry… sorry, I just-” he begins, but Drake leans in to kiss him soft and slow.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Drake soothes with a small smile when he pulls away, wiping at his cheeks with his thumbs. “We’re here now, ok? At home, safe, and Gosalyn is safe, too, thanks to you.” he reassures him, and Launchpad nods, taking a deep breath and leaning down to press his beak to Drake’s forehead.

They go through the motions of getting ready for bed, leaving the bathroom to curl up on the bed facing each other, Launchpad wrapping him up tight in his arms. A knock at the door makes Drake turn to call over his shoulder, “Come in.”

Gosalyn comes padding in slowly, climbing up onto the bed and over Drake to nestle between them, and both dad’s lean in to preen at her feathers, making her giggle.

“Am I forever banned from going on patrol?” she asks once they stop, looking up at them with her best puppy eyes.

Drake hadn’t even considered not letting her go on patrol anymore, but looks up at Launchpad to get his opinion as he was the one most shaken up by tonight. His brow furrows in concentration as he thinks, chancing a look at Gosalyn and automatically losing any internal battle he was going through. He could never deny her anything and they all knew it.

He sighs as he leans down to kiss the top of her head, “No, we just need to be more careful is all.”

Gosalyn cuddles closer to Launchpad, wrapping her small arms about his neck, “I will be. Thank you for keeping me safe, Pops.”

“A fight?! Gosalyn, sweetheart, we’ve talked about this before you can’t solve problems with your fists, you have to-”

“They called me a dyke…”

Drake’s shock causes him to pause in his cleaning of her bloody nose, meeting her eyes for only a second before she looks away, tears threatening to spill. He can sense Launchpad shaking with rage next to him and he places a hand on his arm to calm him.

“They what…?” Launchpad seethes, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Gosalyn sniffles, wiping at her eyes, “On the playground… these boys asked me why I never wear skirts or dresses… and-and why I played hockey… then… then one of them said ‘You must be a-’” but Drake stops her with a hand on her knee, leaning in to pull her into his arms, letting her cry into his shirt for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m so sorry sweetie… I’m-” he takes a calming breath, “Your father and I are gonna talk to your principal right now and make sure this never happens again, alright?” he says, holding her by the shoulders and giving her a strained smile, hoping it was comforting. She nods jerkily, wiping at her eyes again.

Leaving her in the nurse’s office, they head over to where the principal is waiting for them, Drake holding onto his fiancé’s arm the whole time to try and remain calm, taking note of the way the principal looks at their joined arms.

“Now I’m sure this must all be very upsetting, no one ever wants to see their child fighting over some simple schoolyard ribbing.” he says, which immediately gets Drake’s blood boiling.

“That was no ‘schoolyard ribbing’, that was bullying, and bullying with such an awful word attached to it that, to be quite honest, I’m glad my daughter maybe taught those boys a thing or two about what kind of words are acceptable today.” Drake rants, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Those boys are traumatized over what happened! You should have seen the black eyes your daughter gave them!” the principal huffs, and Drake feels a small rush of pride but tries to keep it from showing on his face.

“Good! Gosalyn should have done worse.” Launchpad laughs, and Drake gives him a sharp look.

“Excuse you? You’re lucky their parents aren’t pressing charges!” he says, giving them both an incredulous look.

“I’d like to them try! Sue my daughter, hah!” Launchpad shakes his head, and this conversation is not going as well as Drake would have liked.

“Your daughter? As far as I’m concerned, she’s Mr. Mallard’s child, and an adopted one at that…” he says the word like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, and Drake has to act fast to hold Launchpad back when he surges up from his seat.

The principal looks effectively cowed, pushing his seat back to get as far away from Launchpad as possible. Launchpad opens his beak as if to say more but shakes his head instead, turning to leave with a quick, ‘We’ll go wait in the car.’ tossed over his shoulder, shutting the door with a slam. Flinching at the loud door, Drake turns to the still terrified principal, “My fiancé is a very… passionate man…”

It was common knowledge that Launchpad was wrapped quite tightly around Gosalyn’s little finger, willing to do anything and everything for his little girl. It became a problem when they had bills to pay and Launchpad would spend entire paychecks on whatever Gosalyn wanted, like her archery set or top of the line hockey equipment.

All Gosalyn had to do was give Launchpad her tried and true puppy dog eyes and he would be toast, bending to her will as if she wasn’t half his size and also 11. 

She needed a lemonade stand for her up and coming business? Launchpad was already done building it before she could say ‘Please’. She was craving Hamburger Hippo and would absolutely die without it? Launchpad was there and back in fifteen minutes. 

Needless to say, Launchpad thoroughly spoiled Gosalyn, and Drake too at times, but he never expected anything in return, never asked for anything.

As his birthday approached, Drake and Gosalyn were at a loss, working feverishly to figure out what to get him.

Something Darkwing Duck related? He was going to marry Darkwing Duck, what more could they get him in that department? Something related to planes? Drake and Gosalyn couldn’t build anything to save their lives. 

They accepted defeat the day before his birthday, waiting until they were all sitting in front of the TV with the latest kids movie popped in to admit how awful they were.

“We don’t know what to get you for your birthday and we feel really bad ‘cause you always do stuff for us and we never do anything for you.” they say in unison, hanging their heads in shame.

“Buh?”

“Just tell us what you want so we can get it for you! Anything!” Gosalyn begs, climbing into his lap and shaking him by the front of his jacket. Launchpad gives them both a big smile before pulling them into his arms and kissing at their faces, his favorite thing to do.

“You guys… the only thing I could possibly want for my birthday is to spend as much time with you guys as possible.” he says once he’s done kissing them, setting them back down on the couch and getting into their usual movie night set up. As Launchpad wraps his arm around him, Drake looks over at his daughter, an idea brewing in their heads.

The next morning, Launchpad wakes up with a smile, excited to spend his birthday with his family, and he gets to start it next to his beautiful husband who is… not in bed next to him? Wondering for a second if he’s somehow slept in, he looks over to the clock to see it’s six in the morning, his usual weekend wake up time. Before he can begin planning his revenge in what is surely a kidnapping situation, the bedroom door bursts open.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear, Launchpad (he’s pretty sure he hears Gosalyn say ‘Launchdad’) Happy birthday to you!”

In front of him are his fiancé and daughter, both looking very tired and ragged but smiling and excited nonetheless, holding a homemade chocolate cake, his favorite. 

It takes him a while to stop crying but his family hugs him the entire time, and there’s no other way he’d rather spend his birthday.

-

Pulled from his reminiscing as Launchpad gives him a sweet kiss, Drake sighs, wrapping his arms around his neck until he picks up a weird smell.

“Mr. McQuack I do believe the pancakes are burning.” he mutters against his beak as he pulls away, doubling over with laughter as Launchpad rushes to salvage their breakfast.

After a slightly singed breakfast, Drake tugs Launchpad back to bed to try and get a little more rest, practically lying on his chest to make sure he can’t go anywhere.

“Hey I thought you said you had a fiancé?” Launchpad scolds when he leans up to preen his neck feathers, and Drake snorts before sitting up, looking down at the love of his life with so much fondness it makes Launchpad blush.

“Yeah I do, he’s the whole package. Handsome, funny, good with kids… I think he just might be the one.” Drake smiles, pretending to lean in for a kiss before going back to laying on Launchpad’s broad chest. “You guys should meet, I think you’d be good friends.”

Launchpad chuckles as he wraps an arm around him and stokes his back, kissing his temple, “I love you, Drake.”

“I love you, too.” he whispers, curling up close until he’s draped all over him. Thinking back to his reminiscing earlier, Drake sits back up to give Launchpad an earnest look.

“You’re a great dad, Launchpad, you know that?”

Launchpad’s hand stills and he gives Drake a small smile, “You really mean that?”

Drake rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief, “Of course I mean it! You’re the best thing that could have ever happened to Gosalyn and I! You’re so good with her and she loves you so much, and you love her ten times as much and I just… you’re a good dad.”

When he looks up from his ranting Launchpad has tears in his eyes, sniffling before cupping Drake’s cheek, “I can’t wait to marry you.” 

It’s the last thing Drake expects to hear but it makes his heart swell and tears of his own spill down his cheeks.

They get married two weeks later in a flurry of planning and excitement, completely unexpected but those close to the couple could only say ‘It’s about time.’