#let's all hold hands and play pom pom party together

[inkedmyths]

Shoutout to all of us Kiseki/Trails series enjoyers on Tumblr. There's like 10 of us and the brainrot is terminal

[alltooreid]

All Too Well

Spencer must go to him and Y/N’s once shared apartment to clean out his things and leave her life forever. While there he can’t help but look back on his actions, the ones that made him lose the love of his life forever

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfic ever published on here and I’m excited to share it with you all! It’s inspired by one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs All Too Well, but although I utilized some of the lyrical genius and imagery from it, the story is not the same as the story in the song. This is a very angsty fic, and there is not a happy ending. Although there are some cute fluffy elements, including a Reid’s purple scarf origin story, I would in no way call this happy. Additionally, because of a reason you may later realize, the content warnings are very vague. If anything even slightly mentioned in them may affect you, I advise you to maybe stay clear. On a lighter note, if anyone wants to request anything, whether it’s another song inspired fic or a general plot line you would like to see please do so!! Also sorry this is kinda short, I’m still learning but I’m really proud of this one :))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Type: Very Angsty, Not a Happy Ending, (Y/N and Spencer do not end up together)

Word Count: 2.4k

Content Warnings(try to ignore if you would prefer to stay surprised): slight cursing, discussions of death and gore, discussion of car crash

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments :) let me know what you think!

“But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well”

Spencer was packing up his things, finally getting the chance to clear out and move from the apartment he and Y/N once shared.  Their relationship was rocky and unconventional but he loved her all the same. Even though he left her broken-hearted and destroyed his most cherished relationship. Even though Y/N’s parents now hated him because of what he did to her. Even though hope of repairing what they once had was long gone and there was nothing else he could do about it. Even though he had torn up the masterpiece they once had together. He still loved her so much.

But the magic was gone and so was she. 

Now Spencer was left with memories, and since the apartment they lived in was hers instead of his, filed entirely under hers and her parents name. In his excessive knowledge and wisdom, Spencer Reid struggled to understand how the kitchen where Y/N told him she loved him for the first time as he lit the candle on the collapsing confetti cake he had attempted to bake for her birthday was in no way legally tied to him. 

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” Spencer sang as he lit the single pink birthday candle he found after rummaging through his desk drawers for longer than he cared to admit. He knew it was in there somewhere, but at the same time there was a whole lot in there. 

As he looked at her face, eyes welling up with tears as she took in the sad, homemade excuse for a birthday party Spencer had thrown together after they got back from a case hours before, he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more. He wanted to take her to New York, where they would’ve enjoyed fine dining and one of those incredibly detailed floral frosting cakes he knew Y/N was infatuated with. 

However, the case in Oregon ran long. They had only returned to their apartment 2 hours ago, hours past their 7pm dinner reservations. Although Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, you don’t need to be a profiler to know that someone wants to celebrate their own birthday. So although they had agreed to go to bed and play everything by ear tomorrow, the young genius had, what he would still argue to be, his most brilliant idea when he saw Y/N asleep once he got out of the shower.

It was still her birthday.

And Spencer had just under 2 hours to throw you a party. 

So sure, Y/N deserved more than a cake that was definitely not cool enough to frost, but was frosted anyway due to time constraints. And she definitely deserved more than present hastily wrapped in his printed out articles and newspaper clippings. Spencer wished that he had time to go buy new candles, instead of lighting a green sparkly number 7 because it was all he could find.

But it was almost midnight, and that meant he only had 18 minutes before it wasn’t Y/N’s birthday anymore.

So instead of dwelling on it, he headed to their bedroom, shook her awake and watched her roll over to face him. He watched the smile overtake her face as she said the stupid party hat he was wearing, made out of a pom pom and a wedding invitation.

“Hey birthday girl,” he said softly, “you do realize you’re sleeping through your party right?”

She looked so happy that night, even as she saw the way too messy kitchen and her birthday cake that was melting by the second. She laughed as Spencer fumbled with the lighter. 

And as he finished singing her eyes started releasing tears. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish we could’ve done more for the first birthday we get to spend together. “

“No, no, no” she said as she wiped her tears away, “It’s not that at all.”

She smiled and looked up at him “I just love you so goddamn much Spencer.”

Although at one point, all Spencer knew was logic and logically Y/N had never ever known him when she filed her paperwork, the genius still struggled to grasp the concept. That even before the ending of it all, you had no legal, definite connection to her at all. 

How was nothing about this place, his? 

  All that he knew was that he had today to pack all his shit and leave. All he knew is that Y/N’s father had made it very clear none of their family wanted to see him again. 

He wished he could talk to Y/N about it. However all of his calls went to voicemail immediately. 

Logically, Spencer knew why, he had completely fucked up. 

But still, he called every single day, as there was nothing his heart wished for more than to speak to Y/N again. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.

As the cold air from the open windows blew into the apartment, Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was leaving his home behind. Everything left of her was going to be here, and he wouldn’t get to experience any part of the life you and him had once shared together anymore.

But then he saw it. 

The royal purple scarf Y/N bought the day of their first date. 

“You like this color right?” she asked as they stopped by a booth at the street festival she had taken him to. Spencer was too distracted as he watched the other couples on dates, as they walked hand and hand down the streets. He sometimes wished he could forget things like the number of germs and bacteria that lived on her hands. He at least wished he could forget long enough to gather enough courage to hold Y/N’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Hmm?” he said, looking back at her, then the scarf she was now wearing. “Oh, yeah! I love that color, it um- looks great on you.”

She smiled, then turned to the weird old guy running the stand. “How much for the scarf?” she asked.

He looked at her, then looked at Spencer, “depends which one of you is paying.”

Before Spencer could say anything, let alone pull out his wallet, Y/N already had hers out. 

“Well, for a pretty lady like you, it’s 2 dollars,” the man said.

She handed him five and turned to Spencer. “You hear that? I’m so pretty I get 80% off! Wonder what you would’ve paid huh pretty boy? He would probably owe you money.” The man handed her her change and whispered something Spence couldn’t quite catch. 

“Gross,” Y/N said as they exited the booth, “he wrote his number on my change.”

Spencer chuckled, “Did you really just buy that scarf because I like the color of it?”

She smiled, “Don’t get so cocky now Einstein, I like purple too you know? And maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you borrow it.”

At that moment Spencer felt just okay enough to wrap his arm around Y/N’s, and she felt just right enough to wrap the new scarf around them both. 

The one she left next to her front door, after making the last minute decision to leave it at home the night of their final outing.

No one would notice if he….. Right?

Sure maybe Y/N would but what would she do about it? Hunt him down just to get a scarf she paid less than five dollars for? Definitely not. 

He wrapped it around his neck and closed his eyes, even days later he could perfectly picture Y/N singing in his car, fascinated by the autumn leaves falling around her. He felt the wind in his hair, but instead of the cold, dreary air from the open apartment window, he swore he could remember the warm air from that October night. 

“Spencer I know you hate it but please, please, please. I’m so tired.”

“Sweetheart you’re not tired, you’re drunk. Of course I have to drive you home.”

“Oh, whatever.”

A phone call broke him away from his memories, it was Hotch. Spencer was angry, how effortlessly cruel of him to call him during such an emotional time. Hotch knew how much Spencer loved Y/N, the whole team did. 

So he didn’t pick up.

Instead he walked over to the coffee table they used to put their feet on when they binged watched Doctor Who together. Letting the ringtone play out in the background, Spencer picked up an old photo album Y/N’s parents must have brought out. Of course he remembered it, it was the same one they flipped through when he met Y/N’s parents for the first time. He didn’t realize she had brought it home with her.

His eyes welled up with tears as he flipped through the old school pictures, remembering how embarrassed Y/N was of her big glasses. He saw her old athlete pictures from when she used to play tee ball, and flipped through more pictures until he reached the end of your softball career, in college. 

He remembered how hard Y/N blushed when she showed him her childhood bedroom. Her twin sized bed was full of stuffed animals and her walls covered in boy band posters. 

“You know what Spencer? I don’t want to hear it. I loved and still love the BackStreet Boys and I am not ashamed of that.”

He laughed, “You know, before we started dating I always thought you were so cool and unattainable. I imagined that you had always been this chic, beautifully brilliant badass. It’s oddly comforting to know that you wore tortoiseshell glasses and had a fruitless infatuation with Nick Carter.”

She gasped, before tossing her tabby cat stuffed toy at him, “You’re about to get it!”

Once again he was called out of the memory by his phone. 

And once again he let it ring.

Spencer went into their shared bedroom, most of his things were already put into boxes for him. Honestly he was surprised that they hadn’t been set on fire or thrown away after what he did. 

Soon it was time for him to take his things down to his car.

Except it wasn’t even his car. It was Morgan’s.

“Spencer, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am infatuated with you, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“You sure that isn’t the alcohol talking Y/N”

“Look at me Spencer, no, no really look at me.”

He couldn’t imagine ever using his old car again after what had happened in it.

“You are my future.”

Not that he could use it again.

“You are my everything.”

It was pretty much destroyed, after that accident on that little town street.

“I want nothing more in my life, than for you to be in it.”

When he was so enamored by Y/N, so in love that he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that he ran a red light.

And the truck waiting to go didn’t stop either.

“SPENCER! SPENCER CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED YOU TO CALL 911!” she screamed, her voice filled with agony, her limbs mangled in a sea of crushed mental and snapped backwards by the emergency airbag she didn’t realize she was resting her feet on.

Spencer had already called 911. That was the sickest thing about it. Spencer was, physically, perfectly fine. Spencer would get to leave the hospital after just a few days. Spencer could’ve probably gotten out of the car if he tried to. But he stayed, he stayed with Y/N, as she wasn’t fine. As Spencer looked down on her broken body, and tried desperately to find just one piece of skin that wasn’t coated in blood, her blood, that is when he realized. That not only could Y/N not walk out of the hospital with him, but she probably wouldn’t even make it there.

So he sobbed, he struggled to breathe, not because of the ways Y/N did, but because he had caused all the reasons she couldn’t.

“Hey, Spencer, look at me.”

So he did, and he reached for her hands and held them so tightly, and wanted one last time to feel her squeeze back. And she did, just ever so softly. 

“Spencer, I meant everything I said to you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. Please.”

“I love you so much Y/N”

“I love you too.”

Spencer was drawn away from his memories once again as he got another phone call. 

But it wasn’t Hotch this time. It was Mr. Y/L/N, so he answered it. He owed him that.

“Are you out of her house yet? You’ve had hours. I want you gone Spencer.”

Spencer sighed, “I’m leaving now sir, I’m just putting the last of my things in the trunk and then I’ll be gone.”

“Good, I never want to see you again Spencer, you hear me?” Mr. Y/L/N said. “And you better not have anything of hers either. All that stuff in your car better belong to you and you only. If Y/N paid for even a dime of it it better still be in that house.”

Spencer looked down at this scarf he was wearing, the one that still smelled like her perfume. The one that he couldn’t bring himself to take off because he reminded him of so much innocence and beauty.

“Yes sir, I didn’t take anything.”

“Good. And Spencer do me a favor.”

“Anything sir.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Mr. Y/L/N said, and then hung up. Spencer sighed, he expected that and fully deserved it.

How else should a father react when you kill his daughter?

“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well”

[awxward]

A3! Boys + My Stuffed Animals

Spring Troupe:

Sakuya

Gabriel

Gabriel is a small elephant with big ears that constantly make him fall over. He has a pink bowtie that says 'I Love You'

Makes Saku feel safe and Gabriel is a reminder to himself that he's loved and appreciated by everyone at Mankai.

Named after a friend from theatre class :)

Masumi

George Washington

George Washington is a tiger. He is small, but his arms are like those slap bracelets so you can wear him on your wrist (or let him hang on the side of shelf like I do).

So I got Georgy-Boy for easter 2020. i asked my friends for name ideas. They sent me stuff like 'Stripes'. I went offline for a few minutes and when I came back online I told my friends his name was George Washington.

//////////

Me: tiger has a name now

Friend: which name did you choose?

Me: his name is George Washington.

Friend: what the fuck. how'd you get George Washington?

//////////

Pretty sure he got the name bc I was listening to the Hamilton soundtrack.

Citron

Daniel

Daniel is mostly pink but has other pastel colors that look like watercolors. He's a unicorn. And a ketchain. And he's one of those dream lites, so he lights up. (He's supposed too anyway, but he's never lit up since i got him like 7 years ago at a yard sale).

Named after Daniel Howell (formerly danisnotonfire) [YouTube]

Tsuzuru

Lucifer

Lucifer is a small panda pillow pet. Very easy to travel with bc he fits in most backpacks.

My mom told me she wanted me to have a stuffed animal with a biblical name, i picked him up, looked her in the eye and said "His name is Lucifer." My mom tried to protest. "You said a biblical name, Mom. Lucifer is in the bible."

Itaru

Pao(???)

Pao is a panda. They are also a phone holder thingy. Like it'll hold your phone if you're watching movies or whatever.

Like 5-ish years old. Got them from a friend. They have a tag with their name on it, but I read it once and then just called them "the panda" for some reason instead of their actual name and now the tag is too faded to read the name, but i am 38% sure it says Pao or something close to that.

Chikage

Tsuki

Tsuki is a dinosaur. Tsuki is a sparkly dino. He's green rn, but if you brush your hand over him, the sparkles turn over and he becomes orange. I like green tho bc his tummy and the bottom of his feet are orange and so are his eyes.

Named after Tsukishima Kei (Haikyuu)

Summer Troupe:

Tenma

Hinata

Hinata is a narwhal. A bright orange narwhal. Infact he is the same color as Tenma's hair.

Named after Hinata Shoyo (Haikyuu) [bc its the same color as his hair. there is a theme with this narwhal and the anime boys i associate with them]

Yuki

Steve

Steve is a regular teddy bear, except he has a shirt that has pikachu on it. (the shirt was originally Tsuki's bc i got tsuki at a friends build a bear bday party, but it fits Steve better)

I just think Yuki would try new designs/color schemes/styles by making clothes for Steve to see how they look.

I got Steve from a claw machine (my bf at time won him for me just before we watched Endgame together.)

Named after Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Muku

Eeyore

Muku most definitely loves the Winnie the Pooh movies and I will fite for this hc. He gets my Eeyore. You know how Eeyore's tail is always going missing or falling off??? Eeyore's tail comes off (velcro) but its attached to his actual body with a string so it cant be misplaced.

Eeyore has a patch that says "official disney store" but i got him for $3 at a thrift store.

Misumi

Sherlock

Sherlock is a polar bear. Sherlock is very huggable. He makes Misumi feel safe. He has a hat and scarf (that don't come off. they are sewn on him)

the hat has a pom pom on top and the scarf has a pom pom on each end. the hat and scarf and the bottom of his feet have a blue/white plaid pattern.

Kazunari

Victor

Victor is a puppy and the first big stuffed animal of mine on the list! He's all tan and abt maybe 3-4 ft long. Victor lays pretty flat so he's comfy to lay/sit on. I think Kazu would like sitting or laying on him when drawing. Probably has him on his bed so he's like a giant pillow.

Victor is from Toys R Us. I got him last August-ish from my Aunt and Uncle who found him at a thrift store and thought I'd like him.

Named after Victor Nikiforov (Yuri On Ice)

Kumon

PJ

PJ is a small white tiger. He is also a ball. He can fit in one hand. When Kumon is thinking or stressed or bored (etc) he just lays on his back and tosses PJ up into the air.

When Kumon is laying on the floor tossing PJ, Misumi sits on the bed closest to where PJ is and tries to grab him (but only if Kumon is in a good mood and okay with it) It's a fun little game they made up they like to play.

Pretty sure he was named after KickthePJ (YouTube)

liber pls give us a pic with all of autumn i am begging

Autumn Troupe:

Banri

Sammy

Sammy is another one of my large stuffed animals. He is also a puppy, but unlike Victor he is sitting instead of laying. He's abt 2-3 ft tall. His fur is the same color as Banri's hair. Great to squeeze at anytime, but very therapeutic when you're in a bad mood. Has a heart on his ear.

i got him abt 7 years ago. I had just finished spn season 2 and was upset abt the finale and had no way to start season 3.

Named after Sam Winchester

Juza

Tiggs

Tiggs is a beanie baby tiger. Tiggs is a little larger than PJ (and not a ball). He's a regular orange tiger instead of a white tiger like PJ. He'd buy Kumon PJ so they could have matching stuffed animals. Small and very comforting to just hold/hug.

Omi

Benedict (Ben)

Benedict, also known as Ben, is a small koala. Just a little bigger than Tiggs. He has a heart on one of his feet (i think the right one). very soft. very fluffy.

Named after Benedict Cumberbatch (Actor)

Taichi

Dean

Dean is my largest stuffed animal. He is a dark brown teddy bear that's abt 4-ish ft tall. He can be put in a corner and used as like a bean bag chair, or he can lay down flat and be a good pillow like Victor can.

It's very fun to just wrap around him and squeeze as tight as you can. Especially in when your in a bad mood. Very comforting to cry into.

I got him a couple years ago at a thrift store.

Named after Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Sakyo

Lev

Lev is a lion abt the size of a regular teddy bear (maybe slightly larger). I got him a thrift store so he's slightly worn out from age. He's mostly a pastel dark yellow-ish tan and his mane is dark brown. very huggable.

He's the stuffed animal I sleep with. Smells nice all the time, like the fabric softener.

Named after Lev Haiba (Haikyuu)

Sakoda

Emotional Support Iron Man

So Iron Man is small and he sparkles. He will hurt you/someone if thrown hard enough. Sakoda likes heroes bc they remind him of Sakyo they look cool. I'd hc that he got Iron Man from Sakyo when he was younger and its one of his most valued possessions and goes everywhere with him (or stays with Azamo or Sakyo at the dorm. Maybe Izumi or a couple others are on the list of who can watch over Iron Man.) Very protective of it.

Got the emotional support part of his name from a friend.

She saw Eddie Redmayne on a movie cover (think it was The Danish Girl) and started freaking out bc she loved him. I handed her the Iron Man and the next day she thanked me and said he was an Emotional Support Iron Man and the name stayed.

Azami

[Emotional Support] Spooder-Mon

Sakoda knew Azami as a kid. He most definitely got him the Spider-Man so they could have matching plushies.

Spider-Man is square and has little blob hands doing the web thingy. The tag said travel pillow, but he probably just chills by Azami's bed. When needed, Iron Man will be placed next to him if Sakoda can't take Iron Man with him.

I brought him to school one day and we had a bio test and all the people sitting around me passed him around and gave him a pat for good luck. We all got good grades and then he was dubbed as Emotional Support Spooder-Mon, but the Emotional Support title isnt part of his name (unlike the Iron Man).

i wanted guy in the pic, but i also wanted tsumu and hiso in the pic so you get 2 pics for winter

Winter Troupe:

Tsumugi

Phil

Phil is a zebra. He is a pillow pet zebra. Like Lucifer, Phil is also easy travel size. The bottom half of Phil is pink, so I refer to him as my pink zebra.

I just think it'd be cute to have Tsumugi with a pillow pet ok. I also thought he'd probably have has Phil for many years (since he was a kid) and Tasuku most definitely brings up things from when they were kids and shit.

//////////

Tasuku: you chose the pink zebra, and for what???

Tsumugi: its a very aesthetically pleasing pastel pink.

Tasuku: THERE WAS A DOG PILLOW PET RIGHT THERE AND IT WAS CUTER

Tsumugi: dont talk bad abt Phil.

the rest of mankai: ????????

//////////

I got phil before I got Lucifer many years ago. He was old when i got him and he is very old now. I love him so much.

Named after Phil Lester (AmazingPhil) [YouTube]

Tasuku

Cap

Cap is a husky. He was won from a claw machine with Steve.

There's just something abt the grey and white that gave me Tasuku vibes. Also, Cap's eyes are abt the same shade of blue as Tsumugi's and Tasuku knows this bc they are in love. Very squishy when hugged and with the way he sits, you could make it look like he's guarding something.

Named after Captain America (Marvel)

Homare

Ushijima (Ushi)

Ushijima, also called Ushi, is the last of my giant stuffed animals. He is abt 2-3 ft tall (like Sammy) and has a tail abt the same length.

Ushi is a raccoon thats mostly hot pink. Ushi's eyes are also pink and just abt the same shade as Homare's hair, although Ushi's fur is brighter by a few shades.

Ushi hurts when thrown/swung hard enough. Very fun to hug bc he's filled with beans (like beanie babies) so unlike all my other giant animals, he doesn't have to be fixed/adjusted after everytime you squeeze him. The tail has cotton tho and makes a good pillow.

Homare would definitely just see a 3 ft tall hot pink raccoon and claim it with no explanation.

Named after Ushijima Wakatoshi (Haikyuu)

Hisoka

Vladmir Dracula the 3rd (Vlad, Drac)

Vladmir Dracula the 3rd, who has many other names but usually goes by Vlad or Drac, is a vampire (surprise).

Vlad is a squishmallow thingy, and their tags say something abt them being able to be used as pillows, and thats why Hisoka gets Vlad.

Vlad is triangular in shape, with triangle ears, and triangle fangs, so I thought abt Misumi, but i figured Hisoka bc it's a pillow.

He's like the perfect travel size and he has a cape and a bowtie.

Named after Vlad the Impaler, the real life inspiration behind Dracula (my brother thought he was named after Vladmir Putin and I wanted to punch him for that but I was too busy laughing.)

Also named after Dracula, who was a vampire.

Idk where 'the 3rd' came from, but it's part of his name for forever.

Azuma

Sebastian

Sebastian is a dinosaur thats blue with a white tummy.

He's also a squishmallow, but he's bigger than Vlad by abt 2× as wide, so he'd be harder to carry around, which is why Hisoka got Vlad instead. Being a squishmallow means he looks more blob than dinosaur and i love it.

His tag said his name was Dominic or something, but I named him Sebastian before I actually checked the tag, so he's Sebastian.

Named after Sebastian (Black Butler) and Sebastian Stan (Actor)

Guy

Moriarty

Moriarty is my other polar bear. I got him with Sherlock and named him Moriarty bc Moriarty is Sherlock's nemesis.

He's just a plain white bear thats very huggable and adorable. I usually have a bowtie on him bc it makes him look fancy.

Guy would like him bc he's plain white and very fluffy.

[thekatherinewinchester]

Ariel For A Day

Summary: Y/N went to on a haunted trail with her friends the night before. What happens when she encounters her celebrity crush at work all the while having no voice?

Characters: Matthew Gubler, Hunter Dahl, Fem!Reader 

Pairings: MGG x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, cussing, Matthew being a cute little shit (Yes that should aways be a warning)

A/N: This fic is for the Secret Swap on Discord that @imagining-in-the-margins​ curated for us! This was written for the ever so sweet @gretaamyk​! Per her request, there will be a part two to this -a smutty part 2!

I’m gonna kill them. I told my friends I couldn’t go to Boogerwoods with them, but did they listen? NO! Now, I have to go to work today with no voice. Thanks bitches. Today is gonna be so much fun!

Getting to work I waved to my coworkers on my way to the break room to put my purse and jacket into my locker. I had just closed my locker when I heard 

“Hey Y/N!” It’s my work best friend, Jas. We may not hang out outside of work but that doesn’t diminish the fact that she is my work best friend.

“Morning Jas!” I replied raspily.

“Did you finally get some last night and that’s why you have no voice today?” She jokingly said. She knew that I wasn’t that type of girl. I wanted to at least know the guy a couple of weeks.

I rolled my eyes. “Went to Boogerwoods with the Goofy Gublers last night. Pom wouldn’t take no for answer and Natt promised me Starbucks,” I shrugged even though I still a little tired from getting in late last night. “One asshole came at us with a knife dressed as Michael Myers and we seriously thought he was going to kill one of us. One guy had the audacity to touch Lila before she laid him on his ass. I won’t be going back to that haunted trail, not if their people touch you and get waaayyy too into character. Needless to say, I don’t think any of us have a voice today,” I shivered thinking back to when they Michael Myers impersonator coming at us with a knife. I have honestly never been more terrified in my entire life. Sometimes I curse myself for loving Halloween so much.

“You gonna be able to work okay today without a voice? Do we need to get you a little writing notepad or something?” Jas asked partly concerned and partly trying to be a brat.

“Don’t be dramatic Jas, I will work just fine. If I really need any help, I will radio someone.” I reassured her.

My voice might be scratchy as hell sure, but I am still understandable. That’s all that matters. I walked over to the board to see what my station was today. I really hoped I was on registers today; I don’t wanna talk to people and prolong getting my voice back. I am restocking today, yes! Less human interaction for me unless a customer requires my assistance. Hopefully, no one will need my help today but that’s just wishful thinking.

A couple of hours into my shift my throat really started to hurt. I told myself that once I had finished restocking these iPhone cases I would would take my break and make me some hot tea in the break room, By now, my voice is gone and it hurts to try and talk. Low and behold, a little boy -well an eight year old- comes towards me. “Excuse me, ma’am? Can you please help me find my uncle?” He asks a little shyly. My heart broke for the kid, he just seems so sweet; oddly, he looked familiar too.

I pointed to my throat and said I can’t talk.

His eyes widened, “Are you Ariel?” Awww, this kid is so sweet. Before I could shake my head no he had grabbed my hand and started leading me to who knows where. “We’re gonna look for my uncle together! When we find him, he can kiss you and bring your voice back!” He looked at me proudly and excited. Damn this kid for being so cute. Although, someone has seen the Disney cartoon one too many times. It’s sweet that he thinks a kiss will bring my voice back though. I will definitely take the complement that he thinks I’m a Disney Princess. The girls are gonna get a kick out this later when I tell them -after I message them in all caps about my voice.

By now we have reached our Halloween section. The little boy had been looking left and right for his uncle. Apparently, he had found his uncle because his strides were getting wider and he was practically running. “Uncle Matthew, quick! She needs help! She has no voice, so you have to kiss her!” He yelled out exasperatedly. I could feel my cheeks warming up at the sight of a couple of people who heard him yell to his uncle.  

“What are you talking about Buddy?” My heart stopped. I knew that voice. I would know that voice anywhere. The eight year old who is still currently holding my hand is Hunter Dahl. Laura Dahl is his mother and his mother is the older sister of the man who plays Dr. Spencer Reid on Criminal Minds. HOLY FUCK. Matthew Gray Gubler is in my store and his nephew wants him to kiss me so I can get my voice back. I don’t whether to be praising the heavens or to run away in mortification.

Matthew looked away from Hunter to look at me. His eyes are even more beautiful in person. He smiled his sweet smile at me and I swear he blushed. “Sorry about my nephew. We watched The Little Mermaid last night.” He looked back at Hunter and ruffled his hair. “Sorry buddy, that’s not how it works. Although, maybe if I ask her to go to dinner with me, it might help her get her voice back.” Both the handsome man and his adorable nephew looked to me.

My eyes must have widened in panic. I mean, how could I say yes to him without a voice. Nodding didn’t even cross my mind, I was too focused on the fact that the most important moment for me to have my voice and it’s gone. The Goofy Gublers we will definitely be getting an earful from me later. He have read the panic on my face.

His smile widened, “ If we can find a pen and some paper, I am more than happy to give you my number so that when you get your voice back, you can call me.”

HOLY. SHIT. I tried to come off as not too excited, I hope it worked. I tried mouthing the words electronics and pointed in the direction of the cash register in the electronics.

“Lead the way Ariel, we will follow you.” He gestured to me. His smile will be the death of me, I swear.  I hope my face isn’t a horridly read color, that would be a little embarrassing.

I lead us to the electronics cash register and grab a sticky note and pen. I handed both to the tall, handsome pool noodle. I hope my smile didn’t look too creepy. He took the pen and pad from me and began jotting down his number in his familiar messy scrawl. This moment feels so surreal. Once he had put his John Hancock and his infamous heart, he handed the sticky note to me. “I hope to get a call from you soon Ariel,” he smiled and winked. He patted Hunter on his back. Hunter waved at me as they made their way back to the Halloween section. I smiled at the sweet boy and waved back. I looked down at the sticky note in my hand. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

It was two days before I could talk again. I just hoped that Matthew hadn’t changed his mind. I took a deep breath before clicking his number that I had already saved in my phone. I had saved it as soon as I had a hold of my phone on break. I haven’t even told the girls on discord about this yet. This still feels like a dream. I hit his number and waited with a bated breath while it rang. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Please tell me this is Ariel from Target,” Came his sweet voice.I blushed and let out a giggle I was hoping to keep in.

“My name is Y/N and it’s nice to meet you.” I managed to get out without stuttering.

“Hi Y/N, it nice to finally hear your voice.” I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I like the sound of your laugh, it’s a sweet sound.” I blushed even harder. 

“Thank you, it’s really sweet of you to say” I smiled into the phone.

“So about that dinner I want to take you on, are you free this weekend? Like say Saturday?” I could hear the nerves in his voice.

“I’m sure I could pencil you in,” I teased. Then it hit me, Saturday was Halloween. “You don’t have plans with your friends for Halloween?” I asked. I was confused. Didn’t he have a Halloween party to go to with his friends?

“I want to spend Halloween with you, actually,” his voice giving away just how shy he actually is. It’s endearing actually.

“I know a great place where we can eat and still rock costumes, if you want…?” I was unsure if he would like the idea. Granted, anyone who knows Matthew for more than five minutes knows that his greatest love is Halloween.

“Really? That would actually be really cool!” Was his reply.

“Awesome! I must warn you though, the place is owned by a friend of mine. She is really chill though. And I hope you like Mexican!”

“I can’t wait. Send me your address and I will come pick you up. You can be my eyes and my guide.”

Another giggle escaped my lips. “It’s a date!”

I figured as a good joke I would dress as Ariel in her blue human dress when Prince Eric takes her out on the lake. I even got a red wig. I already had a blue bow so I was good on that. I can’t wait to see what Matthew will be wearing. I walked towards the mirror in the entry hallway to get one last look at myself. I like how it all turned out!

There was a knock at the door. He’s here! I took one last look in the mirror before I grabbed my Sebastian clutch that held the essentials (my phone, keys, lipstick for an emergency touch up). I opened the door and I let out a big laugh.

“What do you think?” He looked so proud of himself. This man is just too cute for words.

“You make a dashing Prince Eric! I honestly wasn’t expecting Prince Eric, I thought you would go with Poe or something spooky,” I admitted.

“I did think about it, I admit, but I thought Prince Eric would be the better choice since you are Ariel,” He winked at me. I almost let out a moan. The man need to quit being so attractive, it’s quite unfair honestly. “You ready to get this date started?” He asked me while hold his arm out for me to take like a gentleman.

I looped my arm through his, “I am ready sir, please lead the way” we walked out this hi car, where he opened my door for me.

The short car ride was quite but not awkwardly so, it was a comfortable quite that only my giving directions disturbed. We pulled up to the little hole in the wall Mexican restaurant where Kat awaited us. I told her I had a special date, but I didn’t say who.

I walked in first and Kat was the first person to greet us. Here got really wide but she quickly schooled her features.

“Ey apa, voy a garar esta mesa!” She called out in Spanish. “I told my dad that I was gonna wait on you. He won’t care. Everyone is out partying anyway.” She grabbed a couple of menus and sat us in one of the very back corners. “What can I get y’all to drink?” She looked from me to Matthew waiting patiently.

“I will take a water please,” I looked to Matthew to see what he would order.

“same for me please.” He responded. Kat turned and went to get our drinks situated. I opened my menu to see what the Saturday special was and figure out if I’d had yet or not.

“What do you normally get here?” Inquired Matthew.

I looked up from my menu, “Honestly, everything is good here. You really can’t go wrong. I haven’t had their dinner special yet, the enchiladas supreme but I don’t doubt they’re just as good as everything else. I will probably stick with my usual though.,” I flipped the page over and pointed to an item that was under “from the grill”. “I get this second one right here, it’s called the Pollo Con Crema. It’s grilled chicken with their white cheese sauce and rice and beans. It’s so good!”

“Here y’all go!” Kat put down our drinks along with some chips, salsa, and bean dip. “Y’all ready to order?” She looked to me first. It will never cease to amaze me to hear her speak Spanish and then turn around and speak English with a southern accent that has a hint of a Spanish accent. I wish I could speak another language. Maybe I will ask her to teach me one day. I looked to Matthew. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yeah, if you are.”

I looked back at Kat. “I want my usual, please.”

“You got it Y/N, you doin’ rice and beans tonight or double rice?” She asked me.

“Rice and beans is fine.” I told her.

We both looked to Matthew. “How about you Sweetheart? What would you like?” I could see a little blush begin to color his cheeks.

“I will have what she’s having, please. It sounds really good.”

“You got it! Would like it with rice and beans or double rice?” She questioned him. “It’s good either way, we just have a lot of customers who have preference.”

“Rice and beans is fine.”

I handed her our menus. “Alrighty then, I will get this put in for y’all! By the way, y’all look fantastic!” As she was walking away, she gave me a look that read we would be talking later. She was gonna rat out me on discord. Not in a mean way, she was just gonna elude and have me tell everyone the news. Oh well. I honestly can’t say I’m mad about it. I’m on a date with Matthew Gray Gubler, nothing can make this happy feeling go away.

“So, she’s a friend of yours?” He asked me as he was grabbing a chip to dip in the salsa.  

“She’s a friend I met on a messaging app. She’s a sweet person. A little crazy and sometimes annoying but she’s a sweetheart. She’s not gonna say anything. She has thing with privacy so, we’re safe. She might hint that I was on a date with someone to the rest of our group but she won’t flat out say who it is. She’s have me do the honors. That is, if it’s okay with you. I don’t want you think that I’m only here because of who you are.” I bit my lip nervously. I really hope he doesn’t think that. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“No, I don’t think that at all. I knew from the moment you walked over with Hunter that you were a good person.” He smiled.

I smiled back. “I’m really glad to hear you say that.”

He reached for my hand, “I know this is only the first date, but I can already see that there could possibly be something between us.”

I held in the fangirl scream that wanted to let loose, so I just let my smile grow wider. “You can?”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of my palm. “I really do think that.” He spoke softly looking into my eyes.

Even if he is wrong and there isn’t something between us, at least I had this one night with him. A night that I know I will never forget and cherish for the rest of my life.

Wheels Up Fam:

@imagining-in-the-margins​ @httpnxtt​ @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ @hyper-fxation​ @andiebeaword​ @writing-in-april​ @aperrywilliams​ @sunlight-moonrise​

[shimmershaewrites]

A Matching Set (Caryl Post Season 10 One Shot + Grimes babies + Lydia and some Aaron).

Just a little tooth-rotting fluff I found on my hard drive half finished.  Kinda, sorta Christmas fic but not.  Read it.  You’ll see.  Sorry not sorry.  

“Play lots of Tetris as a kid?”  

 The mountain man beard does precious little to hide Aaron’s brief grin as he waits for Daryl to add more to that blurted, out of the blue question.  

 Daryl doesn’t blame him.  They ain’t talked a lick since they set off beyond Alexandria’s gates with a wobbly ass wheelbarrow and an ax in dire need of sharpening.  Once or twice, Aaron’s hummed a few notes of a couple vaguely familiar Christmas tunes, but other than that?  Radio silence.  Surprise or not, however, he figures the question’s pretty on point.  Especially considering their current means of passing the dwindling daylight hours.  “So.  Did ya?” he asks again, blue eyes averted and squinting as they search out any signs of potential danger, human or otherwise. Nothing’s there.  Hasn’t been since they took the head of the last Whisperer snake, but old habits?  They die hard.  And if they’ve kept his heart beating this long, he’s not looking to abandon them. ‘Sides.  If there were anything out there, he has no doubts Dog would be the first to alert them.  Provided, of course, he wakes his lazy ass up in time.      

 Rising and carefully slotting the last piece of tinder into place atop their firewood pyramid, Aaron lets his own eyes flit over the gray horizon.  “See anything?”  Soon as Daryl shakes his head, he allows his shoulders to relax.  Then he laughs to himself quietly.  “As a matter of fact, I did play.  You?”  

 Breath whining past his chapped lips, Daryl doesn’t respond.  He’s too focused on heaving the wheelbarrow out of the mud that’s caked around its wheels, his boots, even the abandoned ax.  Loaded down as it is, shit’s definitely heavier than it looks, and he gives up, at least momentarily.  “That the last of it?”  

 Aaron nods, bending to reclaim the ax.  “That’s the last of it.”  Daryl’s muttered thank fuck has his eyes crinkling in a way they haven’t in ages, at least not in the presence of anybody but Gracie.  “Need a little help?”  

 It takes the both of them working together to get the wheelbarrow out of the rut and bumping along the path home.  They’ve been walking a while, Dog trotting on ahead, before Daryl picks the dangling thread of conversation back up.  “Played,” he admits.  “Hell else was detention good for?”  

 “Homework,” Aaron quips.  

 “Pfft.  Bet your ass was the permanent hall monitor.”

 “You’re looking at a Hall of Famer.”  

 Daryl simply smirks.  

 “Ah, the Daryl Dixon approximation of a belly laugh.  I’m breathing rarified air.”  When his teasing is merely taken in stride, his steps start to slow and he regards Daryl with something akin to wonder.  Dog even turns back to stare.  

 Feeling his friend’s eyes boring a hole in him, Daryl mutters, “Hell you staring at? Wanna trade places?”  

 Aaron takes but a second to consider the offer.  “I think I’ll pass.”  

 “No shit. Figured you’d say…”  

 “Carol prefers you.”  

    ---

 The sky’s bleached of any color by the time Daryl’s finally headed home.  The streets of Alexandria empty.  

 No wonder because there’s a storm blowing in.  First one in what promises to be a long winter season.  At least according to their self-appointed weather man Eugene.

 Personally? Daryl thinks it’s all some grade A bullshit.  Pouring over half a dozen dusty old Farmers’ Almanacs like they hold the answers. Plotting random patterns and pieces of data on time-yellowed paper in chicken scratch that would have put Merle’s own to shame.  He doesn’t need or believe any of it because he can feel it in his aging bones like some kind of wizened old wizard.  Course, it doesn’t take much these days to make old hurts echo.  And the cold he’s feeling now?  It chills his blood.  Makes him ache and wish to high hell he’d worn the ridiculous hat Carol had tried to shove down over his ears this afternoon before he and Aaron had left out. Embarrassing piece of yarn might have come in handy filtering out the hollow, haunted whistle of the wind, but damn if he was going to sacrifice his dignity like that.  Wearing a whole-ass pom-pom on top of his head.  A rainbow one at that.  Nah.  Weren’t all that long a walk from Aaron’s.  “Almost there,” he reminds himself.  “Almost.”      

 Dog’s got a little extra giddy-up in his step as he trots ahead.  

 The mutt looks back and whines as if to tell Daryl hurry and Daryl can’t help but huff something resembling a laugh as he reshuffles the load of firewood stacked clear to his chin to get a better grip.  His breath fogs in front of him like thick, odorless cigarette smoke and shit.  His fingers might be halfway numb, but they twitch reflexively for the vice he hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in months.  Shaking his head, he includes Dog when he grumbles.  “Getting soft.”  

 Dog hangs back and stares him down as if to say speak for yourself.  

 “Ain’t the only one,” Daryl generously allows when a particularly biting gust of wind swirls around them both.  It lifts his hair from his forehead and makes his eyes sting.  Has him hunching his shoulders clear to his ears as if that’d do him any good, and he finds himself hurrying just as much as the little fucker that finally abandons him, home within his sights.  “Ain’t the only one.”  

    He sheds his muddy boots just inside the kitchen door and tries to make a grab for Dog before he runs off, he really does, but the damn animal’s too squirrely.  Too excited to see his kids.  To see his girl.  Daryl can relate.  

 “Ten minutes later and we were going to send out a search party.”  

 The soft lilt of her voice brings a smile to his mouth before he’s even seen her.  “Promised I’d be back.”  All the leftover tension from the trek back through the woods melts away beneath her gentle touch and he leans his head back against her chest with a sigh.  

 “I know that,” she murmurs fondly.  “Judith knows that.  RJ too.”

 “Lydia?”

 “She worries. It’s sweet.”  

 What’s even sweeter is the feel of her hands in his hair, her nails tickling his scalp, and the smile he feels curve against his cheek before her lips leave a kiss there. “C’mere.”  

 She’s straddling his lap, arms hooked around his shoulders, and nose nestled against his own before he can ask her twice.  

 Daryl cups her head and coaxes her closer, her hair slipping like silk between his fingers. He kisses her until they both sigh.

 “Miss me, Mr. Crossbow?”

 Her smile fills his heart and works a lump into his throat.  “Always.  Know that.”

 She traces the bridge of his nose, the line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, and pouts. “Your ears are cold.”  

 “Should have worn the fucking hat.”  

 “I’m not one to say I told you so, but…”  

 “Pfft.”  

 “You really should have worn the fucking hat.  I mean, look at me.  Really look at me.  This isn’t the time or place for vanity,” she teases.    

 “That’s the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen.”  She giggles like a girl.  Like Judith. Like Lydia when she doesn’t think anybody’s watching.  And he’ll tell her a thousand times the sweater is ugly just to hear that sound again, even though she’s still the prettiest thing he ever did see.  “The ugliest damn sweater.”  

 “The ugliest.  I left yours upstairs at the foot of the bed.”  

 “Carol.”  

 “They’re a matching set.”  

   ---

 The logs are crackling in the fireplace when he comes back downstairs and joins them.  

 RJ and Judith have their heads together nearby, talking in whispers and giggles.  Both of them seemingly transfixed by the orange sparks that float and flicker like fireflies against a midnight sky.  

 Lydia’s got a book and Dog in her lap and a blanket tucked around her toes.  A soft, hesitant smile plays upon her lips when she spies him, and she’s quick to bury her nose back in her book before it can visibly stretch from ear to ear.  

 “Stahp,” he gives a preemptive grumble when Carol glances up from mending his raggedy ass pants and her sassy mouth starts to twitch.  “Woman,” he warns with an accusatory finger when the first laugh sputters free. “If I didn’t know better…”  

 “Is Aunt Carol in trouble?” RJ asks his big sister.  

 Judith’s smile is soft and knowing even at her tender age.  “Not really.”  

 “They gonna kiss again?”

 Lydia does the answering this time.  “Probably.”

 “Did the Brave Man kiss Mama all the time too?”  

 “He did,” Judith answers wistfully.  

 “Why?”  

 “It’s what two people that love each other do.”  

 The dancing twinkle in Carol’s blue eyes softens into something else altogether, something that although it makes Daryl’s cheeks flush pink in the glimmering firelight, he brings her hand to his mouth and presses the imprint of his smile to her palm.  “Hear that?”  

 “Ain’t telling me nothing I don’t know, Sweetheart.  Now ‘bout this ugly ass sweater…”  

 “Nobody else could pull it off as well as you do, Pookie.  Nobody.”  

[waywardnewcomer]

Built-in Best Friends Part Seven

Summary: There’s a party, a dance and a fight

Warnings: Jealousy, physical violence, minor injury , underage drinking, swearing

Pairings: Reader x Tom Padalecki, Tom x OC, Jensen x Daughter!Reader, Danneel x Daughter!Reader, Reader x OC

Word Count: 2k

Previous Part Series Masterpost Masterlist

For your whole life you and Tom had shared a birthday party together, only 5 days apart it seemed pointless to have 2 parties with the same friends and family. It started when you both turned one, parents sitting around the table as you both blew out the candles on the shared cake and then you grabbed and handful and smushed it into Tom’s little face. Tom let out a giggle and threw some back at you making your parents laugh and take some photos, it being one of your proudest and most fond on the wall. It also became a little tradition when you blew out candles on the cake. As you got older you and Tom compromised for each other, having both princesses and knights, dinosaurs and unicorns, robots and fairies. You both wanted to make the other happy and your parents were more than happy to oblige, but as you got older you just wanted to go do something fun and take a few friends. Every year you and Tom got a photo together that would end up on both of your bedroom walls, to show your journey as you grew up.

This year you and Tom decided you wanted a house party with a Disney fancy dress theme and practically the whole school was invited. As you were both turning 18 you knew it was bound to be a big one, especially as Tom was getting more popular. It made you a little anxious, but you knew you had your family and friends by your side and your room to run to if things got too much. Plus, your parents were allowing you to drink a little alcohol this year under their supervision, so that would help a lot.

You were dressing up as Tinkerbell and Tom as Captain Hook, matching costumes just making sense since you were young. You had a set of fairy wings on your back that you borrowed from Arrow and your Mom had glued some white pom poms onto some green shoes for you. You had done Tom’s eyeliner for him, laughing when he winced as you did the waterline.

“Stop being a baby Tommy, it doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t poke myself in the eye everyday Peach.” He retorted, poking you in the arm.

You shook your head and took the eyeliner away from him, ruffling his hair a little to give him more of a rough look and placing his hat on his head. You stepped back and gave him a nod of approval as he pretended to twirl to show off.

“Well Tinkerbell, shall we go to Neverland and see our guests?” He asked holding his arm out for you to take, making you laugh.

“Hold on I’ll sprinkle some fairy dust and we can fly there.”

“You can fly Peach.” He smirked and lifted you over his shoulder and ran down the stairs with you, finally dropping you off in the kitchen as you doubled over in laughter, him smiling at your pretty face.

“You two do realise you already have guests here right?” Your Dad chuckled, pointing to the people gathering outside around the firepit, some with drinks in their hands and some crowding around the beer pong table that was definitely only there for the adults. Your grandparents had come and taken the little ones earlier, so it was just your parents, aunts and uncles staying for the party and fun.

“Sorry Dad, just fixing Tom’s eyeliner while he cried like a little girl.” You teased, before rushing outside so Tom couldn’t attack you again.

“It really hurts okay?” He whined to the adults as they looked at him with amused faces and following behind you as they laughed at him.

You threw your hands around Josh’s neck as you reached him and kissed him softly, having grown a lot closer whilst dating over the past few weeks.

“Hello Pan.” You smirked and adjusted his cap on his head making him smile.

“Tinkerbell, you look exceptionally beautiful tonight, birthday girl.” He smiled at you making you blush.

“Y/N I got you a drink! Oh hey Josh.” Tom stared at him as he passed you your drink. He felt the pit of fire burning in his stomach and he resisted the urge to slap his smirk off his smug face.

“Hey Tom, Happy Birthday man.” Josh smiled at Tom, making Tom scowl a little.

“Thanks,” He mumbled, stumbling a little when Sasha came over with her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Hey Sasha.” You muttered, glaring at her softly. This bitch had come dressed as Tinkerbell too, the audacity. You rolled your eyes softly and looked up at Josh silently begging him to take you away.

“Oh, I didn’t know you would be here.” She scoffed, looking you up and down.

“It’s my party?” You laughed a little, looking at Tom with a confused look as he shook his head.

“You never said it was a joint party.” Sasha frowned at Tom.

“I thought it was implied.” He muttered as she started shouting at him.

You and Josh decided to slip away and enjoy your night without the wrath of the brunette. You met up with the rest of your little group and played a few drinking games before Tom came over to get you.

“Cake time. Don’t smush it in my face this year, please.” He sighed making you frown. He loved doing that each year, it was your tradition at this point. You gave him a questioning look and his eyes just flicked over to Sasha and you nodded in acknowledgement as you sat in front of your family and friends with the giant cake in the middle of you two. Blowing the candles out was never so dull, it wasn’t the same without smashing cake into Tom’s face.

The last thing you remember was blowing out your candles and wishing everything would figure itself out, before waking up on your bathroom floor, hair stuck to your face. Maybe drinking so much last night and playing beer pong with Tom wasn’t such a good idea after all.

You peeled yourself off the floor and hopped into the shower, washing off the vomit, sweat and grime from the party and letting the water wash over your hungover skin. You got out and jumped into some pyjamas and got back into bed, taking the medicine your parents had left on the side and gulping down some water. As soon as you turned on your TV you heard a tapping at your window, seeing Tom with a big smile on his face. You sighed but got up to let him in, immediately getting back into your cocoon.

“I have some news.” He smirked, jumping into bed with you and handing you the bag of your favourite meal from McDonalds making you grin in thanks. You slowly sat up and looked at his expectantly as you took a sip of your drink.

“I lost my virginity last night.” He grinned, making you spit out your drink in surprise and start coughing on it.

“What? Who with?” You asked confused, recovering from the moment and ignoring the crushing feeling in your chest at his admission.

“Sasha, who else?” He laughed at you while rubbing your back from the coughing.

“Well congrats I guess?” You said nervously.

“There’s one more thing.” He muttered, looking down at his hands. He was nervous about something. You could tell by the way he was playing with his fingers.

“Why did you bribe me with Maccies?” You asked him suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I want to take Sasha to the dance.” He mumbled quickly.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s tradition and I love going with you but me and Sasha are getting serious and it’s senior year, I’m not going to get another chance.” He rushed out.

“Tom, it’s fine. Josh asked me too. Go with Sasha.” You smiled at him, trying to hide the pain behind your eyes. “Just save a dance for me.”

“Of course.”

As much as you felt sad about losing Tom as your long-standing date to the dance you were very glad you had Josh as his replacement.  You and Tom still managed to get a picture together at home before you left, and before Sasha clung to his arm and you couldn’t get anywhere near him. He still drove you there, playing songs and singing stupidly the whole way making you remember how much you actually liked him.

Tom parked up outside the dance and gave you a winning smile, “Have fun tonight, if you need me…”

“Text you, yeah I know. See you later Tommy.” You laughed as Josh came up to the car and opened your door. You kissed Josh on the cheek and grabbed his hand, rushing towards the doors making Tom scowl.

“Dick.” He mumbled under his breath before getting out of the car himself and finding his girlfriend.

You managed to have one quick dance with Tom while Sasha scowled at you the whole time and Josh danced with Lily, Zach and Penny in the meantime, knowing how important your friendship with Tom was. But the peace didn’t last for long.

You quickly joined them, and Josh twirled you around, making your dress flow softly. He pulled you close to his chest as a slow song came on and wrapped his arms around your waist, one hand dipping to just above your bum. Holding you softly and lovingly in his arms as you hand wrapped around his neck. The eye contact between the both of you was full of passion, you leaned in slowly for a kiss, feeling his hand grip onto your ass into it. You laughed and deepend the kiss, loving the feeling of his lips on yours, until he was ripped away from you.

“Get your hands off her.” Tom screamed at Josh, pushing him away from you.

“Tom it’s fine. Stop.” You reasoned, putting your hand on his shoulder only to have him shove it off harshly.

“This is between me and him.”

“Tom I’m not going to fight you. Y/N is my girlfriend, we were kissing.”

“You touched her ass, you asshole.” He spoke gritting his teeth and throwing a punch to Josh’s jaw.

“Tom!” You shouted, going in between them both and pushing him backwards, inadvertently getting hit by his swinging hand in the process, right in the cheek. You gasped and took a step backwards looking at him in betrayal, a hand held up to your cheek. You felt Josh’s hand on your shoulder and your little group of friends gathering around you, making sure you were okay and giving Tom evils. You shrugged Josh’s hand off, mad at him for even entertaining Tom’s fight.

“How could you?” You asked him heartbroken, tears dripping freely down your face as you reached out for Josh’s hand.

“Y/N I’m sorry, it wasn’t meant for you.”

“No, it was meant for my boyfriend who you shouldn’t have been hitting in the first place. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He was touching you.” Tom shouted back at you, getting angry that you were pissed off with him.

“He’s my boyfriend. Don’t you think I’d have pushed him off if I didn’t want him to?”

“You’re weak Y/N. I didn’t want him to take advantage of you.”

“I’m weak?” You laughed sadly, that stinging more than a punch ever could. “Fuck you Thomas Padalecki, don’t speak to me ever again.”

“Y/N come on, we’ve been friends for 18 years and you’re throwing it away over this douche?” He pleaded, tears coming to his eyes as he realised, he was losing the only thing that made getting up everyday worth it.

“You’re the douche. We’re done.” You mumbled and turned to Lily and Penny as they lead you away from the crowd that had formed. Josh looked after you sadly but walked in the opposite direction with Zach.

“Fine maybe we shouldn’t talk anymore.” He shouted after you angrily.

Tom was left to watch you walk away, a group of friends behind you and realised you really didn’t need him anymore. He had lost you. He had only just realised he loved you and he’d already fucked it up.

Next Part

Tags: @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou​ @colie87​ @atlas-of-the-world​ @duckieburns @biawol​ @maralisa124​ @gabriels-trix​ @the-winchesters-impala-blog​ @letmebeyoursforever @rosie-winchester​ @bellero​ @dreaminemz​ @aomi-nabi​  @sebstanismyman​ @captured-memory​ @thatbandchick39​ @thevelvetseries

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[jenomark]

○Pairing: Renjun x Reader (Female) ○Other Members/ Characters: Lucas, Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, & YangYang ○Genre: fluff, Christmas ○Warnings: -- ○Word count: 2,528

→Summary: Renjun has a crush. At a Christmas party, his friends push him to talk to her. 

“Just talk to her.” Jaemin said.

“That’s a bad idea,” Renjun said. “Look at me. She’ll run away.”

  Renjun was happy to finally be invited to an ugly Christmas sweater party. It was all he wanted for the holidays. Renjun donned his ugliest sweater proudly. The pea green monstrosity had Christmas bells over his nipples, as a joke, and red pom-poms glued to it. He was sure he would win the contest for having the best sweater. When he arrived and saw everyone in normal clothes, he realized Haechan had played a joke on him, like always. There was no ugly Christmas contest, and it was too late for Renjun to go home and change his clothes.

“You’ll never know unless you try,” Jaemin said. “She might like you, with or without the sweater.”

  Renjun looked over his shoulder. You were standing around with your friends by the table of snacks. You listened intently to what they had to say, your fingers gently tapping against your leg. He loved your little mannerisms. You looked so content that it made his heart warm. When he turned back to Jaemin, he knew he would never be able to start any conversations with you looking the way he did.

“I don’t think I would talk to her, even if I wasn’t wearing this,” Renjun said. “I’m too scared to ask her out on a date.”

“She has to know you like her,” Jaemin said. “Girls know stuff like that.”

Renjun shook his head no. “I don’t think so. I smiled at her once, and she looked really concerned.”

  Jaemin looked at you then. He tried to see what Renjun saw in you. He had a lot of ideas about what kind of girl he wanted to see his best friend with. You were pretty, but there had to be more than that. He just hoped you were as nice and friendly as you looked. Jaemin didn’t know much about you, but he was willing to accept the crush, especially since Renjun seemed to care so much.

“Well, how did you look when you smiled at her?” Jaemin asked. “Show me.”

 Renjun smiled, and it made Jaemin laugh. Renjun’s face looked worried. His teeth were together, but his lips formed a boxed smile. With his eyebrows knitted together, Renjun looked more like he was in pain than trying to get a pretty girls attention. 

“This is hopeless,” Renjun said. “I’m going to die alone. Everyone is going to laugh at me. They’ll bury me in this sweater.”

“It’s not hopeless,” Jaemin said. “You won’t die alone.”

  Jeno arrived at Jaemin’s side. He handed over plastic cups full of alcohol. As Jeno asked what was going on, Renjun looked at the bubbles in his drink. Instead of coming to the Christmas party, he should have stayed home. He took a long sip to calm his nerves.

“Renjun is working up the courage to talk to our friend over there, “ Jaemin said. “Give him some words of encouragement.”

“Don’t talk to her.” Jeno said.

“Yeah,” Renjun said. “Thanks. I would never have came up with that on my own.”

  Jeno took Renjun by the shoulders and made him face a doorway. At the top of it, a sprig of mistletoe was taped . At the moment, Haechan was trying to give YangYang a kiss on the cheek, but he was resisting the affection.

“Are you out of your mind?” Renjun asked. “I can’t kiss her. I can barely look at her.”

Jeno shrugged. “If you don’t do it, someone else will.”

  Renjun looked back over at you, but you and your friends had gone. He scanned the room and saw you talking to Lucas. Immediately, Renjun’s stomach sank down to his asshole. Though Renjun had confidence in himself, he believed Lucas was more good looking. Lucas was tall, handsome, and funny. Renjun was only two out of three of those things. The odds were against him.

“I’m screwed.” Renjun said.

“Look,” Jaemin began. “You’re a good person and-.”

“-And that’s what they say to ugly people.” Haechan said.

  Haechan came up and put one arm around Jaemin, the other around Jeno. Renjun felt like cursing him out, but he kept his temper to himself. 

“What is everyone talking about?” Haechan asked. “Hopefully, me.”

“Nothing.” Renjun and Jaemin said at the same time.

  Haechan raised a slitted eyebrow.  In a childish voice he asked, “What are you hiding from me? Renjunnie, Jaeminnie, I’ll find out. Tell me.”

“Renjun has a crush.” Jeno said.  He was chuckling, his hand clutching his stomach in pain from laughing so much at the whole situation.

“I’m glad you find all of this so funny,” Renjun muttered.  “Donghyuck, please don’t say anything. I’m trying to keep this a secret.”

“What will you give me if I do keep it a secret, huh?” Haechan asked. “I will accept cash only.”

“I’ll promise not to murder you.” Renjun said through gritted teeth.

“Please murder him. Do it for all of us.” Jeno said.

  He heard you laugh at Lucas’ joke from across the room. It instantly grabbed his attention.  All four of the boys looked over, and that is when Haechan knew it was about you. Renjun wasn’t good at hiding his emotions. During their late night hangouts, where they played video games and ate too much food, gradually, the conversations turned to their personal lives. For some time now, Haechan knew about Renjun’s crush. He didn’t think Renjun realized it, but you were all he talked about. He even said your name in his sleep.

“You have to talk to her.” Haechan said. 

“I- I can’t.”

  Lucas put his hand on your lower back. Renjun looked at the ground. He wasn’t even sure how the crush started. He barely talked to you when he was first introduced to you. He liked the sound of your voice when you said hello. He liked hearing you talk passionately about the things you loved, your hands always tapping something. He liked the sound of your laugh, the way you smelled, and how good you were at your job. And even if all of those things he liked were not experienced by him, he felt attached. You looked at him often, and you always had a smile. Every time you did look at him, his heart beat a little faster.

“Fine,” Haechan said. “I will talk to her.”

  Haechan removed his arms from Jaemin and Jeno and started walking towards you and Lucas. Six hands grabbed him by his middle and pulled him back. Haechan was laughing, removing each hand from tickling his stomach.

“Relax,” Haechan said. “It’s for Renjun.”

“No,” Renjun said. “I’ll do it myself. It’s my life, and I can do it.”

  Renjun took a step forward. The first step felt fine. He was going to talk to you. He would be cool and glide across the room, like a prince. You would fall in love with him then, realizing that he had been the one you’d been looking for all your life. He had it all planned out in his head. Everything was going well until his nipple bells started ringing, causing you and Lucas to look over mid-conversation. In the silence, Renjun realized, for the first time, how little people were left in the room. Everyone had moved to the kitchen as soon as the dinner dishes were set out.

“Right,” Haechan said. “Gotta go.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jeno said.

  Haechan turned around to leave the awkwardness of the room, and Jeno followed. YangYang walked through the doorway with a smile on his face, but Haechan pushed him back through it. Jaemin lingered for a moment, his eyes begging Renjun to forgive him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin said. “I’ll be in the kitchen, if you need me.”

   When his friends left, Renjun was standing there lamely. You and Lucas were waiting for Renjun to say something. Lucas broke the silence by laughing loudly when he noticed the ugly Christmas sweater. 

“Seriously, “Lucas said. “That is so funny.”

  Renjun closed the distance between the three of you. He stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to make himself appear confident, with a smile. Renjun made eye contact with you and smiled as normal as he could muster. Then, Lucas reached over and flicked the nipple bells. 

“You can have it after I’m done wearing it, “ Renjun said. “Since you like it so much.”

“I don’t think it would fit,” Lucas said. “You’re a very small man.”

“Yeah, thanks. “Renjun said.

“Of course!” Lucas said.

  Lucas clapped Renjun on the back and nearly sent him reeling forward. Like a coward, every nerve in him wanted to run back to his friends. Instead, Renjun took his hand out of his pockets and extended it to you. If you were surprised, you didn’t show it.

“We haven’t formally met, “ Renjun started. “But I’m Renjun.”

  You shook his hand. All he could think about was how soft your skin was. He looked down at the two of you shaking hands and couldn’t contain his smile. He didn’t want to let go, but Lucas was holding out his massive hand for him to shake.

“I know who you are,” you said. “It’s very nice to meet you, Renjun.”

“-And I’m Lucas,” Lucas interjected. “I don’t know who you are, tiny man.”

  Lucas took Renjun’s hand and yanked him forward a little. The handshake was hearty. Lucas’ hand covered the entirety of Renjun’s. When he let go, Renjun had to rub the muscles in his arm because they ached.

“I like your sweater.” you said.

“Do you?” Renjun asked. He couldn’t restrain his smile. He knew he must have looked crazy, but he didn’t care.

  You nodded. You were laughing. He loved the way you looked. He wanted to reach out and tuck the stray hair behind your ear that fell as you leaned forward. 

“As we were saying, “ Lucas continued. “I’ve been working out a lot and my muscles are getting bigger and-”

  Renjun tuned Lucas out. His attention was only on you. You were staring at him, your eyes big. Renjun knew that look well. It was the look he gave to Jaemin sometimes when he needed to get out of a tricky situation. You were pleading with him to save you from the awful conversation. But you didn’t want to be rude, you were still listening to Lucas go on and on about the way his body looked without clothes on. Renjun really adored you for it.

“-I hate to cut this conversation short,” Renjun said. “Lucas, your body is a work of art. It’s been interesting to hear you talk about your pecs for the last thirty seconds. I actually need to talk to her about something work related. So, if you’ll excuse us...”

“Work?” Lucas asked. “Now? This is a party.”

“Yes, “Renjun said. “It’s really important. I need to talk to her alone. When we’re done, I’m sure she’ll come and find you, okay?”

“Oh, “ Lucas said. “Okay. “

  Lucas didn’t care all that much. He shrugged and went on his way, passing underneath the mistletoe to get to the kitchen. Renjun watched his back disappear before he turned back to you. You were alone now. He knew it was going to be hard to find the right words to say to you.

“Mistletoe is stupid,” Renjun said. “I don’t get it. Why do we have to kiss each other when we stand underneath it?”

“I like it, “ you said. “It’s romantic. I would love to be kissed underneath mistletoe”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. Me too.”

“You don’t have to agree with me, “ you said. “I appreciate that you have your own views.”

“I’m not, “ he said. “I mean, I am, but that’s because you’re pretty and I’m really bad at making conversation. You know what? I should go. I don’t think you need two men talking your ear off tonight. ”

  Renjun started to walk away, but you held onto his arm. Hearing you ask him not to go made his heart start doing back flips. You weren’t annoyed by his words. He hadn’t messed anything up just yet. 

“I’m sorry.” Renjun said.

You waved your hand . “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I enjoy talking to you. I’ve always wanted to say something to you, but I’ve been too scared. I was hoping you would see me smiling at you and have enough courage for the both of us.”

 “Wait, really?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. You seem nice. I like nice.“

“Me? Nice?” Renjun asked. “My friends would disagree.”

 Renjun talked to you for a little while. It felt comfortable. He hardly noticed people passing around him, could hardly hear the chatter. You both talked about life, work, his sweater. You were as lovely as he had imagined, but even more so. When he came back to reality, Renjun realized how close you were moving towards the mistletoe. 

“I hadn’t noticed we were moving.” you said.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice either.”

  You nervously looked down at your hands. Renjun took the time to finally tuck the stray hair behind your ear. You made eye contact with him. He wanted to kiss you right then and there, but he knew he had to wait until you were underneath the mistletoe. Renjun wanted to make all of your Christmas dreams come true. 

“Come here,” Renjun said. He took your hand and pulled you towards the doorway. “I wouldn’t normally do this, but, I think I’ve found that courage you’ve been searching for.”

  You looked up at the mistletoe and gasped. Renjun looked up and saw that it wasn’t taped above the doorway anymore. He looked around on the floor, his nipple bells ringing loudly as he bent over to look. There wasn’t a mistletoe in sight.

“Is this some kind of weird salad?” Lucas asked.

  You and Renjun looked into the kitchen and saw Lucas sitting at a table. He plucked the sprig of mistletoe that someone had set onto a vegetable tray. Renjun’s mouth was hanging open as Lucas stuck the mistletoe into his mouth, his teeth coming down on it with a chomp.

“Oh My God,” you whispered. “He just ate it.”

“I have the worst luck in the world.”Renjun said. He closed his eyes and was ready to give up on life when he heard your voice.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It will be a funny story to tell one day. Boy with the nipple bells versus the boy who ate the mistletoe because he thought it was salad. Who would win in a fight?”

 You laughed, and the sound of your laugh made Renjun feel better. He laughed along with you, his body shaking uncontrollably. When you were both done, you looked at each other with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“So, who wins?” Renjun asked. “ I have to know.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think the boy with the nipple bells has a really good chance.”

  You leaned forward, your eyes halfway closed. You grabbed Renjun’s face and kissed him on the mouth.

[mskathywriteswords]

Send the Love

Much thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67, @cracksinthewalls​, and @thoughtslikeaminefield for the pre-reading and pom pom shaking. Thank you, @thoughtslikeaminefield for the beautiful banner. You are my hero. 

Happy fucking birthday, @there-must-be-a-lock ! I hope the year ahead is your best yet, that you build unimaginable joy and happiness, and that you grow in amazing and unexpected ways. In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve taught me more than you realize. 

Written for Lou’s Happy Birthday challenge.

Warnings: naked ladies, women with egos, badass women who aren’t afraid of life or sex, and definitely smut. 

“I’m outta here, man. I’m gonna take a week off, party my ass off on a Thai beach. Jane, you should give it a shot,” Sabina said, grabbing the champagne bottle. “Beaches. Letting someone play with your … uh … *whistles*”

Sabina looked Jane up and down, not so subtly, wondering what being with her on a Thai beach would be like.

“I have fun in my own ways,” Jane said, annoyed.

“Ah. Cool. You sharpen your Samurai swords at night?” Sabina walked to the ledge of the building, buckling herself into the line. “Cosplay Catwoman? I’d actually pay to see that. Occasionally you eat gluten at night and feel a little--”

Without another thought and before Sabina could say one more irritating word, Jane pushed her off the ledge. 

“That was fun.”

Of course, Sabina was attached to the line off the helicopter, and they all made their way safely to the compound. Jane tried to keep Sabina from her mind, packing her suitcase and cursing what she’d said. How dare she imply Jane never had fun. She had plenty.

Granted, she’d never been on a Thai beach before, letting someone play with her … well … her anything. 

She did have a pocket of time before her next assignment. Hell, she didn’t even have a next assignment yet. She heard Sabina’s mocking words in her head again. 

Cosplay Catwoman? I’d actually pay to see that.

Jane went to her laptop and had Sabina’s cell number within a few keystrokes. She smirked as she pressed send on the message asking how much Sabina would pay to see the cosplay. Maybe one round-trip ticket to Thailand? 

Two could play at this game, although it wasn’t usually Jane’s style. She got what she needed outside of work, but there was something between them, even in the short time they’d worked together. Maybe they could scratch a mutual itch and be done with it. 

Sabina had been watching TikToks and guzzling caffeine as she sat on the floor at her gate. And laid down at her gate. And straddled the chair at her gate. She’d flirted with the bartender. She didn’t usually show up at the airport this far before a flight (in fact, she usually did a quick sprint to the gate at the last minute), but she was just fucking around at home anyway, so she decided to get there early. She smirked at the incoming text when her phone vibrated in her hands. Yeah, Jane, you know you want to go to Thailand with me, she thought as she typed her reply. She hoped Jane was serious; it gave her something else to think about while waiting for the flight -- all the things she wanted to do with and to her. 

flt @ 1900 - u show up, I buy

It was five PM, and Jane would normally start packing a few days before leaving for an international trip. 

Fuck it, she thought. She grabbed a backpack, a few pairs of underwear, some day clothes, her passport, then packed a toothbrush and toiletries. The rest she could figure out when she got there. 

The cab took forever to arrive, but Jane was at the airport faster than she thought she could be. She made her way to security and smiled when she saw Sabina sitting across the arms of a chair, laughing at something on her phone. 

There was something so charming, so attractive about the way Sabina was free with her emotions and body. Jane envied that. She’d never felt comfortable inside her own body for very long, and envied the way Sabina didn’t just tolerate being someone else, she embraced every part of it. She could be in a dress with heels one moment, and fighting to take down terrible men the next, morphing through the different personas and physical differences with ease.

Sabina took note of the polished toes wiggling in their flip flops in front of her, and looked up. 

“You’re not dressed for Thailand at all,” Sabina said, laughing as she stood up and took Jane’s hand in hers. The soft warmth was part of what Sabina loved so much about holding hands with a woman. She got distracted, thinking about other soft, warm things she loved about women.

Jane just looked down at her clothes and shrugged.

Sabina smirked. “Doesn’t matter, clothes aren’t a big part of my plans for the week.”

The women boarded the plane and, after over 24 hours including three stops of flying, and an hour long taxi ride, were not at their best. Well, Sabina was fine, Jane felt like she’d been run over by a truck. 

“How are you upright?” Jane asked, one eye closed and half-asleep.

Sabina shrugged. “Excitement, I guess.”

Jane leaned on Sabina’s clear knowledge of the area to guide them to their hotel. It helped that Sabina was fluent, and the closer they got to the hotel, the more people recognized her. There were fist bumps and head nods left and right. Jane felt a little bit on display with Sabina; Jane always wanted to blend in, and Sabina never wanted to stop standing out.

Thailand was like a second home for Sabina. She had her friends, some of her chosen family was on the island. She couldn’t wait to see her pups and splash in the ocean. Everything else melted away when she was there. She high-fived and hugged her way from the airport to the little house she owned.

“Should I ask how many women you’ve brought here?” Jane asked once they were behind the closed door of the bungalow, right over the water. 

Sabina shrugged and opened the back door, allowing the breeze to wash over them. Sex wasn’t always about love for her, and she saw no problems with that. She never misled women, or promised them things she wasn’t prepared to give. She suddenly realized as she touched her arm that she was filthy. She forgot just how miserable and grubby the long flight was when she didn’t fly first class, where she had plenty of room to sit and space to freshen up.

“I could use a good shower. You in?”

Jane looked at her shoes, covered in dust, and realized she felt the same way all over: dust, sweat, airplane. She tilted her head and answered Sabina by pulling her shirt off, walking toward what she hoped was the bathroom.

Sabina jumped and clapped once, stripping her clothes off much faster, and the two of them met again under the warm spray of water. 

“This is amazing,” Jane said, turning to let her hair fall back in the water and closing her eyes.

“You have no idea…” 

Jane popped an eye open and saw Sabina watching her. Her first instinct was to withdraw, pull in on herself and hide. She was exhausted and unsure of herself, an unfamiliar feeling. Instead, she laughed and went back to washing her hair. She wanted to enjoy the week as much as she could. She was trying something different, she reminded herself. 

“Tomorrow we can kayak,” Sabina said, wrapping her lips around Jane’s nipple. “Go hiking.” She moved her hand up to pull at the other; not hard, just enough. “Whatever we want.”

Sabina’s hand drifted over Jane’s body, down to the apex of her thighs, and she let the tips of her fingertips flutter over the thin skin there.

“We can order room service. Well, not really room service, but I know this guy…”

Before she could say more, Jane covered Sabina’s mouth with her own, pushing into her hard. It had been too long since she’d been naked with someone, and she really wanted to get clean and then find a flat surface to get lost in each other. 

Jane knew her first orgasm was going to be hard and fast as Sabina finally moved her fingers past the surface and pushed two inside of her. It had been so long, and she felt so good, getting wet and slippery with Sabina, all sexy confidence, swagger, and smirks, fuck.

Just as Sabina had imagined, Jane came almost silently. 

“We’re gonna work on that,” Sabina said quietly over the spray of the water. She couldn’t wait to see just how loud she could get Jane. The idea of spending hours naked, keeping Jane right on that cusp, fueled her and helped keep her wide awake.

Jane was exhausted, in every sense of the word. She wanted to keep going, to take her time and explore all the parts of Sabina she could find, but her body had other plans. 

Sabina was nothing if not observant. When the women had soaped up and rinsed, she turned the water off. In an uncharacteristically soft moment, she wrapped a towel around herself, then dried Jane off. 

“Come on,” she said with a smile, leading Jane to the huge bed. The four-poster bed had gauzy white curtains surrounding it, and Jane had probably never looked forward to a bed more, she realized as she flopped down.

She curled in and snuggled under the comforter even though it was a million degrees outside. Sabina smirked as she watched her fall asleep, then heard her start to softly snore. There were a few texts she needed to send, but Sabina curled behind Jane soon after. 

In the morning, Jane woke up tangled in blankets and Sabina. Jane’s long legs rubbed together, Sabina’s hands roaming everywhere they could reach.

“Good morning,” Jane said, finally making eye contact. 

“It’s about to be.”

Sabina’s voice was velvet gravel, deep and full of all the same lush longing Jane felt. Jane’s whole body felt heavy as she rolled and straddled Sabina. 

“Yeah?”

Sabina sat up, jostling and shifting both of them.

“Yeah.”

Jane was slightly stunned as Sabina put her hands on either side of Jane’s face and leaned in slowly. Jane had anticipated a week of fast, focused fucking. This was tender and soft, as Sabina’s mouth kissed around hers and plucked at her lips. Jane’s instinct was to take over and steer things to the point. She didn’t need this fluffy stuff.

She was pulled out of those thoughts as she felt Sabina’s tongue against hers, the soft exhale of both of them together. Everything was warm and tingly as their bodies pressed against each other. Suddenly, Jane needed to get closer. She leaned forward, then slid off Sabina and rolled, pulling her down on top of her. There was this thing women did, Jane had noticed, where they held themselves up in a different way than men above her. She didn’t want any of that, and although Sabina was tiny, she pulled her down against her. Their legs tangled, she needed the weight, the connection. 

Jane realized she’d been avoiding looking at her, really looking at Sabina’s eyes and letting her in. There was something vulnerable to her about that eye contact, she let people in deliberately, not recklessly. She hadn’t done the mental math on Sabina yet, wasn’t sure she wanted to go there.

Before she could give too much thought to it, Sabina had nestled in and was pushing against her. Jane moved her legs apart, welcoming in Sabina’s thigh, and pushed up against it. She needed that friction, that motion, hitting just the right spot. 

“Yeah?” Sabina breathed. 

Her eyes went so wide and child-like when she got excited about something, and it almost made Jane laugh. Surely this wasn’t a new experience for her, but there was a thrill at finding a spot of pleasure.

Jane went with it, closing her eyes and opening her mouth. 

“Just like that.”

It didn’t take long before she was swearing, sweating, coming, grabbing at Sabina’s back (she was definitely going to leave a few marks), the sheets, anything she could reach. Still, the need only built instead of diminished. She tugged at Sabina, pulling her up until she was where Jane wanted. They exchanged a quick smirk before Jane’s mouth was busy, Sabina’s eyes closed. 

Jane pushed up, mouth against flesh as she watched the way Sabina’s whole body reacted to her tongue flicking across Sabina with exacting precision. Jane didn’t waste time and Sabina didn’t hold back, pushing her body against Jane’s mouth as she made more noise than Jane had ever made naked in her life. Sabina’s hands went into Jane’s hair, guiding and squeezing, pulling, demanding.

“Oh fuck.” 

Jane shifted her body, seeking friction as she watched and felt Sabina coming. Jane moved a hand up, fingertips pulling at Sabina’s nipple, wondering how many orgasms she could coax out of the other woman from this angle. 

The number turned out to be three, before Sabina’s thighs were trembling.

“Honestly, we could do this all day. Fuck kayaking.” Sabina said, reaching down to run her fingers through the start of Jane’s hair. “But I’m not going to be able to hold myself up much longer and I don’t particularly want to suffocate you.” 

Every bone in Sabina’s body felt like jelly, and she lost all confidence in her ability to hold herself up, even with the help of the bed. She moved, slinking down Jane’s body with as much contact as possible, and rolled to her back, The two of them laid side-by-side, catching their breath and letting the moment soak in. Jane could hear the ocean and was suddenly reminded that she’d left her life behind for a week, on a whim. She laughed, rolling to her side to look at Sabina. 

“I’m starving.”

Sabina smirked and lifted her eyebrows. 

“No, like, for real food.”

“Oh, well, I had some breakfast brought over earlier,” Sabina said, half shrugging.

Jane sat up. “What? How?” 

“I have friends here.” 

They got out of bed and neither bothered with clothes as they walked into the other room. There was a giant spread of food -- “breakfast” didn’t seem to really cover it. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so… “ Sabina said, shoving a piece of bacon in her mouth.

After they’d filled their plates, they climbed back into bed and planned the day ahead. They decided to go on a hike and swim in a waterfall, even though neither had brought proper hiking boots. Jane was glad she’d packed her favorite bikini, but not nearly as glad as Sabina. 

“Stop,” Sabina said. “You can’t just… you have to wear something over that, yeah? How do you expect me to keep my mind on anything but you, naked?”

Jane laughed. She knew she was beautiful, but the common connection between them went beyond that. She hoped Sabina felt it, too.

Outside, there was a car waiting, driver and all. And several dogs.

“How is there… Who?”

Sabina managed the dogs jumping on her, petting them and giving them love. “That’s Arthit. You met him yesterday, but you were pretty tired. And these are my babies.”

Jane bent down to pet as many dogs as she could, while trying to not get knocked over. Sabina stood up and stretched in the sun briefly, then motioned for Jane to get in the car. The drive was full of distraction - the area around them was stunningly beautiful, and Jane found the way Sabina looked at her, the small touches they shared, intoxicating to the point of dizziness. 

It was a relief to be out of the car, even if the humidity made the air more like chewing than breathing. 

Jane had no idea what was ahead of her for the week, but as she watched Sabina speed ahead on the trail toward the water, tossing clothes off as she went, she knew it would be fun.

[jimlingss]

The Deli Diaries [9]

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 [Finale]

➜ Words: 3k

➜ Genres: Fluff & Cuteness, That good ol’ slow burn, Slice of Life

➜ Summary: Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

➜ Warnings: Mundane-ness that might make you bored to death

➜ Notes: ladies and gentlemen, we are slowly but surely moving away from slowburn from this point forward.

You didn’t think it was possible to hate your job outside of work.   For the most part, you like to grumble and complain during the working process. Once you’ve made it home, you’re pretty damn happy and don’t bother wasting your energy to continue whining about it. Out of sight, out of mind.   Except now, you were outside of the deli, outside of the grocery store, and surrounded in everything that had to do with it — colleagues, snotty upper management, the company name plastered on every single wall, advertisements on every napkin and piece of paper.   The presenters on stage were reading off of their cookie cutter scripts and it was so entirely cringe-worthy, every second you were dying a little bit more inside. Still, you came because you got to skip work and there’s free food.   You’ll do anything for free food.   “Did you join the raffle?” Yuna asks, shuffling down the buffet line with you.   “No. I’m not paying a cent to them.”   Your favourite coworker laughs, her festive green dress twirling as she spins to grab a fudge brownie. “But it’s a chance to win a hundred dollar gift card.”   “Yeah, for the grocery store.” Your voice drops into a quieter volume and your eyes flicker in all directions before you lean closer. “I’d rather shop at Walmart.”   The young girl laughs and it becomes drowned out in the fancy hall. The company rented out the spacious venue for a few weeks so that every store could celebrate the holidays together. It was the only party in the entire year and where a few dollars of your docked paycheck went to.   It’s a Christmas party, but management is adamant about calling it a holiday party, even though it’s pretty obvious with the decorated Christmas tree in every corner, the santa hats and fake santa sitting on his throne with a lineup of kids in front of him. The icing on the cookies were of gingerbread men or snowmen and most of the older folks said ‘Merry Christmas’ to each other as they passed by.   It really isn’t that bad of a celebration. You wouldn’t go as far as to call it generous since you’re sure this is all a tactic to boost morale and make the workers change their minds about the shitty year. But the dinner is fairly good, the music is pleasant, and there was an open bar where people are happily getting drunk on alcoholic eggnog.   You also had a sip of some alcoholic hot chocolate before realizing that it was pretty disgusting and you gave it away.   “I’m going to go sit with my family.”   “Oh yeah, sure. Did you need me to take that family photo for you?”   Yuna shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. My boyfriend can take it.”   “Right.” You smile, trying not to feel bitter and it wasn’t that difficult considering the festive mood was infectious and making you feel more chipper. “Lucky you.”   “Speaking of which…” Your coworker lingers with two plates in her hand, still not returning to her family yet when there’s a more important question on the tip of her tongue. “Where’s that produce boy?”   Instantly, you know who she’s talking about. But you don’t want to give in to what she’s implying, so you give the most confused expression you can muster. “Who?”   “You know...the cute guy that always stares at you. The one you always have lunch with…? You walk home together?!” Yuna is frustrated from your blank expression and detects that you’re just playing dumb to antagonize her. “Ugh! You know who I’m talking about!”   “Hey, if he’s so cute, maybe you should date him,” you say with brows raised before taking a bite of a muffin.   “I-...I have a boyfriend, thank you very much.”   Your cheek is stuffed and you stop chewing for a long second. “And how is that stopping you?”   She opens her mouth and then shuts it, inhaling a deep breath. “We are not doing this again.”   You laugh, having too much fun teasing the poor girl. “Merry Christmas!” You bid her a goodbye and a good holiday in case you don’t see her again in the sea of people.   “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”   For the next little while, you hang around by yourself. You eat some more, stroll around to observe the activities made for the children, colour a stocking before giving it to a four-year old who had been staring the entire time, all while hiding from your manager.   Earlier, she forced everyone who worked in the deli to gather and take a picture together. It was cute and all until every single person wanted their own copy and seven phones were passed around. You were forced to awkwardly stand there and pretend these people were your best friends in the whole world while your picture was taken twenty times and your smile grew more and more stiff.   More importantly, the plate of food you set down was stolen.   And now you were hiding, not only from having to repeat that monstrosity, but there were rumours that the store manager wanted every department to go up on stage and sing a carol together — and you are not about that life.   “What are you doing?” There’s a cute and smooth voice that tickles your ears as you’re sticking your back to a white pillar.   You turn slightly, smile appearing at the person you see. “Hiding.”   Jimin grins and doesn’t even ask. “Of course.”   “Oh shit.” You point to the red and white stick he’s holding. “Where did you get the candy cane?”   “In a basket over there.” He motions to the other side of the hall and blinks at you. “Want some?”   “Uh, yes.” You put your hand out and he cracks it, fiddling with the wrapper for a second before dropping it in your hand. You throw it into your mouth all at once, forming a strategic plan to march across the venue without being noticed and grabbing a handful of the peppermint candy to bring home.   At your prolonged silence, he moves until he’s in your line of sight again. “What are you thinking?”   “Nothing.”   “You’re going to steal a bunch, right?” Jimin’s eyes crinkle and he giggles cutely at you.   “It’s not stealing if it’s free,” you argue, chewing and letting your teeth crunch on the hard candy. Your breath is getting fresher by the second, even if the flavour is strong.   “I like your sweater,” he points out. “It’s cute.”   “Eight bucks online,” you gloat while pinching the fuzzy red fabric with the cubby cartoon reindeer on it. Your leg lifts and you point to your black pants. “Leggings were a hand-me-down.”   “I like your hat.” The produce boy lifts his hand and plays with the white pom-pom at the end of your santa hat.   “Dollar store,” you tell him and he laughs again, having expected nothing less from you. “I like your button down shirt. Super fancy. And you got this whole hair thing going on.” You make wild gestures towards your own hair, looking at the way his dark locks curl slightly, exposing part of his forehead, a clean yet cute look. “Looks good, Park.”   “My mom made me do all this,” he grumbles shyly, made timid and embarrassed from your compliment. “I should’ve just worn a sweater like you did.”   “No, no. You look nice,” you reassure him and you’re not even saying that to make him feel better. It’s all too genuine and if anything, your compliment is an understatement to how you really feel. “I was lazy and I look like trash no matter what I do—”   “That’s not true,” he intercepts. “You look nice too….like really good...cozy, I mean. It’s festive...yeah.”   “Thanks.” You’re trying not to smile so hard and you’re probably failing. “Did your parents come?”   “No, they’re at my grandma’s. My younger brother came though.”   “Oh yeah, I think I saw him earlier. Shouldn’t you get back to him?”   Jimin shakes his head. “No. He brought a friend along and he thought I was embarrassing him, so now I’m hanging out with you.”   “Wow.” You put your hands on your hips, sassing the boy. “Am I your backup or something?”   A grin spreads across his face, the apples of his cheeks puffing out. “You’re my first choice. I was looking for you.”   You’re caught off guard, but you catch yourself fairly quick. “Well...damn straight.”   “Did any of your family come?”   “And make them suffer through this?”   “Fair enough.” He smiles, humming while watching the surroundings of the bustling hall, how groups and cliques of middle aged workers are chatting with each other, how children are running along with one another and making a ruckus. Jimin hesitates a long moment before he asks, “you wanna go somewhere quieter?”   “What do you mean?”   “Somewhere without so many people.” He eyes you, mischief glimmering in his warm brown irises. “And where you don’t have to hide.”   “Okay.” You allow the cute boy to lead you to the left, down a corridor, past the washrooms and into the dark. Your steps begin to slow. “You’re not going to kill me, right? Steal my kidneys or my organs or something?”   “I don’t think the black market would even want your organs with your eating habits.”   You’re appalled, giving out the most dramatic and theatrical of gasps. “Calling me out like that when it’s supposed to be the happiest season of the year?” Jimin giggles and then he pushes the emergency exit door at the end of the hallway. A gust of winter wind comes to slap you across the face.   “Wait. We’re going outside? Nah.”   “Come on.” He waves you over, patience running thin, and you start backing away, arms holding your body, shaking from the chills that have already swept up your spine. “It’s not that bad.”   “It’s freezing, Jimin!”   “Come on.” He takes two large strides and grabs your arm, touch sliding down before he grabs your hand, tugging you. “It’s not bad.”   “Jimin!” You allow him to drag you out of the warmth of the building and the frigid temperature hits you at once. It’s like the freezer at the deli, except a lot worse with the wind and how it’s lightly snowing, crystals dusting from the sky and landing on the top of your skull.   “Trust me.” His hand is still holding yours and he pulls you behind the venue towards the garden area that they’ve turned into a festive display area. There are luminous strings of fairy lights wrapped around fences and bushes, hues of red and green, blue and pink. It’s a mosaic of colours, twinkling like stars, turned into decorations and also wrapping around the gazebo in the center. There are only two kids playing outside in the snow with their parents and no one else around…...probably because it’s freezing outside. “Isn’t it pretty?”   “Yeah. It is,” you admit breathlessly, getting closer to him. His chubby cheeks have become rosy and his nose reddened from the temperature. You’re sniffling, eyes watering, and Jimin laughs softly at your features. “If we freeze to death though, it won’t be so pretty anymore.”   “We won’t.” He pats his chest where his heart is. “I’ll keep you warm.”   “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” It feels a lot better under the gazebo where you’re at least shielded away from the powder twirling from the dark sky and the frigid breeze. The lights wrap around the roof of the gazebo and around the poles, the kind of thing that the camera can’t do justice for.   Jimin sits down, side by side with you, and he stares out at the gorgeous scenery, musing, “I can’t believe the year is ending already.”   “I can’t believe I’ve worked at the deli for so long. Should’ve quit months ago.”   A small giggle bubbles from his lips and he bumps his shoulder with yours. “But then who would I share my breaks with?”   “Exactly.” Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t know that you’re all too serious. He’s one of the primary reasons why you haven’t left the job. “We’d still see each other in school though. Next semester, we’re sharing that econ class together.”   He hums, a bright smile gracing his visage. “Save me a seat.”   “We’ll see,” you quip. There’s sweet Christmas tunes that leak from inside the building, faint singing voices that envelop you and help to create an even warmer atmosphere. Past the music, there’s white noise of cars in the distance driving past and the peaceful quiet of snow sweeping down from the air.   “Do you have any new year’s resolutions?”   “Get good grades, stay on top of school, travel if I can….maybe quit this job.” You try to think and nothing specific comes to mind. “Nothing special. How about you?”   Jimin downcasts his head, swinging his legs back and forth. “I have one or two resolutions.”   “And?”   He steals a cheeky glance. “And it’s a secret.”   You scoff. “What kind of secret?”   “A secret,” he replies simply and shrugs. His eyes pierce yours, locking his gaze and the stare becomes too intense, his proximity too close. You would shift back and get more distance between the both of you, but you’d be too cold without his body heat pressing on your side. “Do you have anything memorable from the past year?”   “Are we really doing this?” You smile, remembering the presenters on stage talking about what a memorable year this was, recalling all the wonderful sales and ordinary stories that could bore someone to death. They also took twenty minutes to praise individual people on the team...people you didn’t know at all.   “What?” The corner of his mouth tugs and his eyes crinkle. “It’s just a question.”   “My life is literally so mundane and boring. Nothing ever exciting happens to me.” You don’t know how to answer and you’re still racking your brain to see if there was anything memorable. “I guess getting this job and getting into university. You?”   “Something memorable?” A wistful sigh leaves through his parted lips and he glances up at the oak beams of the gazebo for a second. “No. Nothing.”   “Really?” There’s an incredulous expression on your face. “You look like you have something to say.”   “It’s…” He pauses suspiciously. “....embarrassing though.”   “Tell me,” you egg him on, unable to resist teasing the poor produce boy.   “Promise you won’t laugh or find me weird?” He searches your visage, sincerity and worry dripping off each of his syllables.   “Promise.” You nod, giving your word. “What is it?”   “Well…” Jimin scratches the back of his neck and then runs a hand through his hair, messing up his neat hairstyle and making it ruffled. The tip of his tongue peaks out as he licks his lips and he steals a peek at you before looking away in the opposite direction. You’re on the edge of your seat, anticipating, and not sure what to expect. “I kind of….might of….had a...crush on you.”   “Really?” Your brows raise and even if your cheeks are frozen and stiff, you’re sure that a wide smile is spreading into them. “When?”   “Like months ago. Remember when I came up to buy that pepperoni?”   “Oh yeah.” You’re gradually recalling it. “I got creeped out by you.”   “What?” His brows furrow, concerned at once. “Why?”   “You were just standing there. Wait.” It comes back as you’re retracting your memories and you snap your fingers as a light bulb goes off. “I wasn’t creeped out by you. I was annoyed! I remember now! There were twenty minutes left till closing and you were just standing there in silence waiting for me to serve you and I had already cleaned the slicer too. Oh my god. That was so annoying.”   “Sorry.” He’s genuinely apologetic and it only makes you smile harder. “I didn’t know.”   “It’s fine. It was cute….sort of.”   “I didn’t know anything about deli meat. Nothing about hams or salamis, so, I got pepperoni cause that’s the only thing I recognized,” he explains.   You laugh, finding his story too endearing. “But how did you even have a crush on me? We didn’t talk back then.”   “We didn’t talk, but I heard you talk all the time.”   “How?”   Jimin stares at you, becoming sheepish. “You’re kind of really loud when you’re yelling half-across the deli gossiping about other managers or when you’re humming or singing by yourself during closing.”   Now you’ve become the embarrassed one, burning underneath his gaze. “I didn’t know my voice projected that much…”   “It made my shifts a lot more interesting when you were around,” he says it in full appreciation.   Your mouth feels dry and you glance at him, trying to approach your question at a more casual angle since you weren’t good at this sort of thing. “You….still got a crush on me now, produce boy?”   Jimin’s mouth puckers together like he’s thinking about it and he quirks his head to the side, inhaling a sharp breath, appearing all too mischievous when he whispers— “It’s a secret.”   You turn fully towards him, blinking hard in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”   He shrugs. “It means exactly what it means.” Park Jimin leans closer to you, murmuring underneath his breath, “It’s a secret.”   It’s strange. You’re outside in the middle of a snowfall. The wind chill isn’t absent tonight. You should be freezing your ass off.   Yet, your entire body feels like a furnace and your face is on fire. You’re sure someone could roast marshmallows off of your skin at the moment, and all you can do in the presence of this wolf in sheep’s clothing is divert your eyes. “Unbelievable.”   And he even has the audacity to giggle at your mutter and glare. Part of you feels ripped off. This isn’t what you bargained for. He’s not a timid produce boy at all. The guy knows exactly what he’s doing, using his charms so you’re dancing right in the palm of your hand.   The sad part is that you don’t even mind.   “Well, I have a confession to make too.”   “What?”   “My toes are going to fall off,” you deadpan with an impassive expression. “Can we go inside now?”   Jimin laughs, complying without missing a beat and pulling you up onto your feet. You don’t miss the way he holds your hand the entire way back and you don’t mind in the least bit either.

[boyfriend-cal]

You have a lame-ass boyfriend (Shawn Mendes Series part Two)

You have a lame-ass boyfriend and (Shawn Mendes Series part Two) Description: Shawn contemplates telling you how he feels. Part two of the three-part series! it’s a little bit angsty  Word count: 4.5k

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READ PART ONE FIRST

part three (the end) will be posted on Wednesday, September 4th.

++

 You’re helping your mother clean up the kitchen when there’s a knock on the door. Your family was having a gathering for your uncles birthday this afternoon, and since your mom had the biggest house, your family was always chosen for the hosts. Mom never minded, she loved decorating and entertaining. The open floor plan of your house made it easy for everyone to mix and mingle.

 It wasn’t supposed to start for hours though, so as you make your way through the house you try to think about who’d be showing up in the middle of the day. When you open the door, Shawn is standing there. He’s wearing sweatpants with a T-shirt, but his hair is wet, so it appears more curly than normal. You two hadn’t spoken since the day after the wedding. He’d driven you home, and you two had sung at the top of your lungs for all eight hours.

“Oh hey, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” You smile and step aside so he can come inside.

 “Me either, but your mom-“

“Shawn! Oh good, I’m glad you were able to come. I need help hanging these decorations, and I can’t get up on the ladder.” Your mom enters the room, talking loudly and holding up some multicolored pom-pom decorations that are all strung together.

 “Mom, I could’ve done that. You didn’t have to bother Shawn.” You roll your eyes and follow them both into the kitchen.

 “Well, if Shawn has something else to do, then he can leave but seeing him at the wedding made me realize I miss having him around. Now, here, I want these all the way around the dining room.” She shoves the mess into your hands and points to the ladder that’s already been set up in the corner, then she disappears back into the kitchen.

 Shawn was more than happy to be here to help you and your mom. He missed coming over just to hang out more than he’d admitted to you. He always brushed it off for your sake, because if you knew that he was actually disappointed, you’d try to do everything to make it up to him.

 He could tell that something happened at the wedding, whether it was the way your gaze lingered on him a little bit longer than normal, or the way you completely melted into him while the two of you were dancing, something felt different. It felt… Better.

 Shawn didn’t want to be the first one to say something. Mostly because of the Josh situation and he always wanted to respect the boundaries of a relationship even if he didn’t like the guy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold it all in though.

 Especially during moments like this. You’re dancing around to some radio that you asked your Alexa to play while also holding the end of the garland so you can hold it up to him when he needs to stick more to the wall. You don’t realize that you’ve been spinning around until most of it is wrapped around your whole body, and you can’t move anymore. Shawn thinks its probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

 So he climbs down from the top of the ladder, and first, he pauses in front of you to laugh. Your hair has fallen into your face, but Shawn is quick to tuck it behind your ear. You’re both still giggling, and it turns into belly laughs as he takes the end and instructs you to spin in the opposite direction. Everything gets tangled at one point, and instead of being worried about possibly having to throw it all away, you’re still both having the time of your lives.

 You admit to yourself that you missed this too. It felt like you always had fun around Shawn, no matter what you were doing together. You’d recently noticed that your heart beats just a little bit faster when he was around, but you wanted it to be because you missed him and hadn’t had the chance to hang out. It had to be that. You told yourself it was because otherwise, what were you still doing with Josh?

 Shawn calls out to the Alexa to turn up the music, and your mom is amazed that even your laughs drown out the noise once the volume is up. She missed both of you hanging out also, maybe more than the two of you did. She’s not surprised that neither of you hears the doorbell ring, and when she passes the dining room, she’s also not surprised to see only a small section of the garland hung up.

 When she opens the door, Josh is standing on the other side.

 “Hey, Mrs. Y/L/N, is Y/N here?”

 Your mom almost tells him no. She thinks she can get away with it until she hears your scream echo throughout the house. So she lets him enter and tells Josh that you’re helping decorate for a party they have tonight.

 You’d convinced Shawn to let you hang a few sections of the garland, but as you were coming back down the ladder, you’d missed a step and almost fallen to the ground. Thanks to Shawn, you’d fallen into his arms instead. It felt like everything had stopped the moment you opened your eyes to see him just above you, holding you with a soft smile. His breath comes in waves over your face, and you’re so close together. You feel like maybe you should’ve tried to stand up by now, but you can’t. You didn’t know if you wanted to.

 He’s about to make a comment about having to rescue you yet again when he hears someone else clear their throat. Both of you jump, standing up straight and turning your heads to the doorway. Josh is leaning against the wall. Your heart is in your ears, and you feel a little out of breath.

 “Oh, hey, Josh.” You feel like you were caught doing something wrong, even though Shawn had only stopped you from breaking a bone. You walk over to him, and Josh pulls you into a hug.

 “I didn’t think we had plans, what are you doing here?” You try to speak softly, not wanting Shawn to hear or to come across as rude. It was very unusual for Josh to just show up out of the blue.

 Shawn was well aware of this. Josh barely showed up on time when you two had plans, much less when you didn’t. Shawn also knew that his Jeep was easy to spot. Therefore Josh knew before he came inside that Shawn was here. It only makes anger brew in his chest, but he tries to ignore it.

 “Just thought we could hang out for a bit. I know you guys are having a party, so I promise to bring you back before then. I missed my girl, and I need to make it up to you for missing the wedding.” Josh smiles, and his eyes flash up to Shawn.

 “Thanks, by the way, for stepping in for me.”

 All Shawn can do is a nod and lift one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. The other option would’ve been to knock his teeth out. You feel like you’re caught in the middle. You haven’t gotten to spend time with Shawn in a couple of weeks, and now that you’re finally able, Josh wants to take you out. On the other hand, Josh was right. He did need to make it up to you, and you two hadn’t really spent time together all that much lately.

 “I don’t know, I was helping Shawn set this up and my mom kind of roped him into it so I-“

 “Y/N, don’t be silly. Go ahead. I don’t mind. It shouldn’t take me long to finish anyway.” Shawn speaks up, and you turn away from Josh to look at him. You try to look into his eyes to make sure he's honest, but he just nods at you like he’s reassuring you.

 “Are you sure?” You ask. Shawn doesn’t know if he’s supposed to see the plea in your eyes to tell you to stay, but he ignores it. He can’t cause problems in your relationship, and if he keeps you from going, Josh would only be mad at you.

 “One hundred percent.” Without another word, Shawn scoots the ladder over a couple of feet and turns his back to both of you as he continues working. If he’d showed his face any longer, you would’ve been able to tell that he was angry. Maybe hurt, it was hard to know at this point. You turn back to Josh.

 “I’m going to change clothes, and then we can go.”

 ++

 Despite being worried about Shawn when you first left, once you got out of your neighborhood, you were already feeling better. Josh’s hand was resting against your thigh, and you were singing along to some of his favorite songs. It felt nice and normal for once. Being around Shawn made you question your relationship with Josh, and you felt stupid that you ever let the thought of leaving him to enter your mind. Josh was great. Or at least, he gave you the attention you wanted most of the time, and he wasn’t a complete asshole.

 You remember the first time you met Josh. It felt like the kind of thing that only happens in movies, you’d accidentally dropped all of your stuff right outside of a local coffee shop, and he’d been nearby, so he offered to help you. After that, despite already having a coffee, he invited you inside to get a drink together.

 You two had sat in that place for hours and only left when you were told they were closing. After that, it had been a go with the flow kind of relationship, and you hadn’t really expected anything super commital because Josh never seemed like that type. One day he asked you to be his girlfriend officially, and you’d been together since.

 After the two of you pick a place to eat, you settle into a booth on opposite sides because Josh hates those kinds of couples that sit together. You had always wanted to try it, but you didn’t want to bring it up. He’d brush you off most likely.

 It’s not until after the bill is paid and you’re back in the truck that things go wrong.

 “The party is starting soon. How about you join me? Some of my family members you’ve never met will be there, and I’m sure they’d love to see you.” You’d expected Josh to just blow you off and say he had something else to do, but instead, he blew up.

 “I’ve been waiting for it all fucking day. What is it with you and trying to get me to come to family events? I think I’ve made it pretty clear that that’s not something I’m interested in. Come on, Y/N, think about it.” Josh scoffs and shakes his head. So you do think about it, and you don’t say anything else. The car falls silent after his yelling ceases.

 He’s right. He’d found excuses out of almost every single family function you’d invited him to, except for the time it was your birthday dinner and you lied about how many people would be there just so he’d come. Josh was pissed from the moment you two walked through the door to see almost every single member of your extended family sitting at multiple tables that were pushed together.

 Since then, he’d finessed his way out of big things in your life. The most recent being your sister's wedding, and now this.

 “I guess I thought you’d suck it up considering my family is one of the most important parts of me.” Your voice is quiet, and you hate that you feel like you need to hide from him. Even if you wanted to, the truck was too small for you to go anywhere, unless you wanted to walk home.

 “You thought wrong. I’m not going to the party with you. Especially if Shawn is going to be there.”

 Your eyes immediately snap from your fiddling hands to him. Shawn was always the one thing that was hands-off for any relationship you’d ever been in, no matter what.

 “Don’t bring him into this when he didn’t do anything. This wasn’t about him.” You huff, ready to give him as much attitude as he was giving you.

 “Isn’t it though? You actually asked him for permission to hang out with your boyfriend. What the hell was that? If he had said no, I bet you would’ve stayed. When I walked in, it looked like you two were seconds away from kissing. You’re so desperate for attention all the time that I bet you would’ve cheated on me.” Josh yells again, and you shake your head.

 “Stop. That’s ridiculous, I haven’t done anything to make you think I’ve been unfaithful. I fell off the ladder earlier, and he caught me, but I don’t have to explain anything to you. Shawn is my best friend, and if we’re going to argue about him, then this isn’t going to work. You know he’s not a problem here, so stop yelling at me.” You point your index finger at him, trying to be threatening but there’s not much you could do.

 “You’re right. Shawn isn’t the problem. You are. You expect me to do too much. I wanted something fun and lighthearted, but you want me to meet your family and get along with your best friend, and it’s all too much. I thought I could put up with it, but it’s like every single time I think it’ll work, you ask me to do something else.” He’s still angry, but his volume has lowered a little bit.

 You’re shocked, but you guess maybe he’s right. Maybe six months was a little fast for him to meet every single member of your family. You’d never really told anyone you loved them like you did with Josh, so you weren’t sure what kind of timeline came with these things.

 “I think that’s your cue to go. I have somewhere I need to be.” Josh presses a button on his side of the door, and you hear all of the locks click open. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’d been so stupid.

 Instead of saying anything else, you push open the door and slide out of the truck. You know where you are, and how to get home, but it’ll take a little while longer than expected. It gives you plenty of time to think on the way there.

 At first, you were angry. You kicked at the rocks that came into your path and silently cursed at every person that passed you, whether they said something to you or not. Josh was a jerk, a class-A douche bag, so why hadn’t you seen it earlier?

 Then, you were sad. It hit you out of nowhere, a panic bubbled up into your chest, and you wondered if you would ever find someone that tolerates you. For a split second, you think maybe you should turn around and apologize to Josh and tell him that you’re okay with something fun and lighthearted, but then you can hear the roar of his truck engine as it sped away just after your feet hit the ground.

 You’ve worked yourself into a frenzy by the time you step onto your street. Your heart is racing, and your feet can’t move fast enough. You just wanted to wallow in yourself for days, not having to see or talk to anyone.

  ++

 Shawn had somehow been roped into coming to the party. After he’d finished hanging the garland and a few other things that your mom asked, she made him a cup of tea and tried to nonchalantly ask if he had any plans for the evening. When she never got a real answer, she told him to go home, change, and come back. The whole family knew him anyway, so why not? Plus, you’d be back eventually. You’d never miss an event like this. Your life was so family-oriented that it made Shawn jealous sometimes.

 That’s why it didn’t make any sense that even half an hour after the party started, you hadn’t shown up yet. He was only mildly worried though, maybe you were on your way back by now. The only reason Shawn felt comfortable staying without you was that he figured Josh would bail and not want to come. If he did show up with you, Shawn planned to exit out of the back door and pretend he was never there. Things already seemed tense between you and Josh, and he wasn’t going to make it any worse.

 It left Shawn to your family members that didn’t behave very well when you weren’t around. He’d been asked, “Where’s your girl?” more times than he could count. Your mother was good at helping him get across that you two were not together, but they could only do so much. It was like all of the feelings he’d been pushing aside were hitting him in the face.

 He wasn’t going to be able to avoid them forever, and he knew that. It had been somewhat easy until now. Until he was surrounded by your family members that seemed to all be rooting for him, and then it’s not so easy.

 Shawn separated himself from the party for a little bit, leaning against the back wall so he could think. If he let you know how he felt while you were still dating Josh, you’d feel stuck and like you have to choose one of them. He never wanted you to feel that way, as your best friend, he always made sure that guys you were in relationships with weren’t threatened by him. Except for Josh, he guesses, he hadn’t done very well at hiding his distaste for the guy when he was around him.

 He was still trying to figure out how exactly he’d tell you that he’d been in love with you for months now when he heard the quiet squeak of your back door opening. Shawn was the only one standing near the hallway that leads to the stairs, so he poked his head around the corner just in time to see you dart up the stairs.

 You hadn’t noticed Shawn’s jeep still parked in the driveway. You were so upset you could barely see straight, much less care about who’d been in your house. You knew there was a party going on and you wanted so desperately to enjoy it, but Josh made sure that wasn’t going to happen.

 Despite the questionable path your relationship was taking recently, you were completely blindsided by the breakup. You’d thought it was a rough patch and that everyone goes through them in relationships, so why did yours have to end?

 You trip on the last stair, but instead of getting up and locking yourself in your room, you curl into a ball right there. All hopes of waiting until the safety of your room to lose it flew out the window.

 That’s where Shawn finds you. After surveying the room of your family members, he decides that no one will miss him as he slips down the hall. He can hear you gasping for air from the bottom of the stairs and immediately worry overtakes his whole body.

 “Y/N? Are you hurt?” Shawn scrambles up the stairs after you. Your face is to the floor as you sob, but it quickly registers with Shawn what might’ve happened.

 “Come on, let’s get you to your room, sweetheart.” Shawn pulls you to your feet by your waist, but he supports almost all of your weight as you stumble down the hall.

 As soon as Shawn opens the door, you release your grip from his shirt. When he pulls the door shut, he hears multiple things clattering and then thump to the floor. Shawn turns around to see you picking up various things off of your dressers and throwing them into a pile, but with your frantic and shaky hands, you knock down a lot of other stuff as well.

 “Hey, hey, Y/N, that stuff can be done later. How about you lay down?” Shawn tries to reach for you, but you swat his hands away.

 “No, Shawn! It can’t be! I have to get rid of everything he ever got me. I hate him, I hate myself. It all has to go.” You cry, pushing him away and moving to your closet.

 “I wore this on the first date,” You pull out a striped shirt that Shawn knows is one of your favorites and add it to the pile. “This one I wore when he first kissed me.”

 Another shirt. Then you pull a dress off the hanger.

 “This was from the first time we ever had-“

 Shawn quickly pulls the fabric out of your hand, stopping your words. He didn’t want to know, nor did he want you to throw out your whole closet.

 “Listen, if you get rid of everything he ever touched, all of it would be gone. I know it hurts, but you don’t need to throw your clothes away. It’s going to be okay.”

 “Shawn! Stop it! Leave if you’re going to tell me what to do. I’m miserable, I don’t need you bossing me around. Can you believe it? I was the one that hated our relationship, and he’s the one that ended things as if none of it were his fault. God, why? Why do I still care?” You sniffle, nose running from all of the tears and your face is all red and blotchy.

 His heart aches to see you like this. It wasn’t a side of you that he’d ever seen considering you hadn’t ever really had a serious boyfriend before. Sure, there were boyfriends, but Josh was the only one that ever made it to the “I love you” stage. Shawn wasn’t sure why Josh had been the one, you’d previously talked to a guy named Gabe that he actually was going to give a chance until you climbed into his window at 6 am to tell him that you’d ended things.

 Just as you’re about to reach up and start pulling on your hair, Shawn’s arms catch yours and pull you into his chest. He holds you tight, so you can’t move. Your lungs are on fire, and it feels like every breath is a chore.

 “Sit with me, come on.” He backs up until his knees hit your bed, and then he brings you down with him. You two move around each other to get comfortable but finally settle with Shawns back against the wall, and you curled into his side.

 You try to slow your rapid breathing, and Shawn gently coaxes you to calm down. It feels nice to be held. You don’t know what you’d do without Shawn. Actually, you have a pretty good idea of what your room would look like if he hadn’t been here… ripped to shreds with almost every clothing item you owned in a box labeled “burn.”

 But he is here because he’s your best friend. You’ve comforted him through multiple breakups, and now he’s just returning the favor. You don’t understand how he seemed to handle heartbreak so well. When it was him, you two just watched a couple movies and ate some junk food and he seemed fine the next day.

 You, on the other hand, felt like you’d been lied to for the last six months. You didn’t want to feel this way, because Josh never really treated you the way he was supposed to. You couldn’t figure out why it still hurt.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” Shawn asks gently. His hand is slowly combing through your hair, and even though they get stuck in a couple of knots, he continues to softly massage your scalp.

 “I don’t know. I’m panicking.” You whisper, feeling silly that you haven’t been able to stop your tears from streaming down your face.

 “About what? You know I’d never ridicule you for anything you say to me.” Shawn takes his other hand and reaches for yours, threading your fingers together and giving you a squeeze. You’re silent for another moment. Every part of Shawn hurts for you.

 “I know now that being with me isn’t what Josh wanted because he didn’t like everything that I included. I have a big family that’s important to me, I like going to events and parties with them, but I hate going alone. What happens if I don’t ever find someone that will do those things with me? Why do I feel like I’ve lost every ounce of hope I had for finding someone that’s meant for me? It’s dramatic, I know, but I can’t shake the thought that everyone after him is going to be the same way.” You start to sniffle, and then you’re sobbing again. You’ve lost the little bit of control that you had gained in the last minute.

 This is where Shawn could’ve stopped your body from shuddering and shaking in his arms. Maybe he could’ve done it with a kiss, or perhaps he could’ve told you that he’s right there ready to do all of those things with you, but he doesn’t. He sure does think about it, and every inch of his body just wants to make you feel better.

 Now isn’t the time though. It would be selfish to insert himself into the situation when you’re already so emotional, and he doesn’t want it to seem like a rebound type thing. So instead, he leans down to kiss your forehead.

 “Honey, there are a lot of guys out there like Josh, and I won’t even lie about it. But you know what? There are a lot of good guys out there too. When you’re ready, you’ll find someone. Feeling hopeless is just part of the breakup cycle, but we’ll get through it. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.” You can’t help but think that Shawns voice is a sweet and smooth as the pet name he calls you. It’s one of the most relaxing things you think you could hear at the moment like this.

 You suddenly get sleepy. Your body is exhausted from all of the emotional turmoil, and you can’t think about anything but Shawns embrace as you drift to sleep. Shawn was right, he will always come to your rescue.

 Shawn watches you sleep for a while. His mind is racing, much like yours but for different reasons. He knows that you won’t be ready to hear what he has to say for a while, but he feels selfish to admit to himself that that hurts. Shawn doesn’t want to wait, he wants to tell you how he feels so maybe he could take your pain away faster.

 He leans his head back against the wall, and that’s when he feels a few stray tears run down his cheeks. Shawn takes a deep breath and reminds himself that now more than ever, he has to pull himself together and help you through this.

++

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[palmettoes]

Aaron/Katelyn 61

(hehe this has only been sitting in my inbox for uhh 6 months i am so sorry! anyway !!!! never written aaron/katelyn before !!! also haven’t written m/f fanfiction since i was 13 but i love these kids thanks for giving me a reason to make up katelyn’s whole backstory)

disclaimer: if ur pro inc*st u are legally not allowed to touch anything i write

read it on ao3! | prompts are closed :(

61. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

Katelyn, eight years old, loses her mother to white lights and hospital beds. It’s preventable, low mortality rate, chance of survival looks hopeful. Katelyn knows this because she looks it up on her dad’s old box computer when he’s working late one night, her older brother playing outdated records too loudly to notice her disappearing into their father’s private study. Katelyn knows this because the doctors tell her so—not in so many words, because she’s eight, but enough that she knows they are optimistic about the results.

Katelyn, eight years old, wonders why doctors can juggle something so fragile as a life playfully among them and lie through their teeth when they catch the corner of an eye.

Katelyn, eighteen years old, is determined not to be like other doctors. Getting into biochemistry at university feels like winning the sprint but losing the marathon. Her professors crack down on the workload immediately, adamant that medicine is not for those who do not want to be there. And Katelyn wants to be there, maybe more than anyone else, but life has already dealt her so much weight and Katelyn is fast running out of strength to lift these stooped shoulders.

She tries out for the Vixens, Palmetto’s cheerleading team, mostly because her roommate, Marissa, waxes poetic about the nights she’ll spend huddled between football players in one of the downtown bars, and Katelyn figures she could do with the extracurricular.

(The exy team does not factor into her decision, but gossip travels far and fast and the idea of standing in close quarters to them puts her on edge for reasons that can only be explained through hollow whispers and stolen glances behind their backs.)

The Vixens are a rough and tumble team, from the figure eight pattern of cigarette burns on Marissa’s forearm, to the handful of Zoloft Anaïs throws up in her dorm toilet during Freshers’ Week, to the way Billie sleeps with their chin tucked over their shoulder so they can watch their own back. Katelyn is just scraping this side of nineteen, knows the weight of Prozac on her tongue better than that of a meal, and cannot remember the last time her father looked at her without looking right through her. Inexorably, Palmetto State University feels like home.

“How about that backliner though? He’s a tall, dark stranger I’d welcome into my crystal ball,” Marissa says, shaking her pom pom in Anaïs’ face as they stumble towards the bus the night after Palmetto’s first exy game of the season. Anaïs bats Marissa’s arm away, switching her duffel to her other shoulder to put an extra distance between them.

“Didn’t notice. It’s their offensive dealer that I was paying attention to.”

“Their captain.” (It sounds like an innuendo but almost everything does coming out of Marissa’s mouth.) “Anyway, I heard from Mick on the football team that Ainsley told Prati that Mia sits with two of the exy players at lunch on Tuesdays and apparently Mr Tall and Dark is hitting it with the captain. Isn’t that a sandwich you’d love to get between?”

“Not particularly.”

“Boo, you whore.”

Marissa shakes her pom pom again and Anaïs’ shove gains force.

“Don’t boo me because I’m gay.”

Billie taps Katelyn’s elbow and rolls their eyes at the other two, sweeping an arm out to offer Katelyn to climb ahead of them onto the bus. Katelyn hitches her duffel a little higher and climbs the steps. Anaïs likes the seat over the wheel so Katelyn chooses the row in front, tucking her bag under her seat so Billie can settle next to her. Anaïs and Marissa scramble in behind them, still bickering over the attraction of various exy players. Katelyn glances out the window and catches sight of an orange and white gaggle making their way to the other PSU bus parked outside Breckenridge stadium. Mr Tall and Dark backliner is holding hands with the captain but chatting to a lanky boy with a frown too many shades short of pleasant. Most of the Foxes move as a unit, a crowd collected behind their coach, but several steps and a whole chasm behind them trails the remainder of the team.

Katelyn recognises assistant coach Kevin Day because, as strong as her distaste for the sport, she grew up this side of the turn of the century. She doesn’t think she could miss Kevin Day if she tried. He is flanked by two identical blond men and an emphatic, dark-skinned man a head or so above the other two. Katelyn had watched one of the twins block the goal all night with a ferocity like he was exercising a personal vendetta against the ball, seen the other punch an opposing striker square in the jaw seemingly unprovoked. She shudders, remembering the rumours she’d heard whispered about the exy team and, for the first time, believing them. She turns away from the window and bumps Billie’s shoulder with her own, pushing blond hair and murderous glares from her mind.

*

The thing is, Katelyn has no reason to engage with the exy team. She cheers at their games and catches glimpses of them between stadium and parking lot, but she doesn’t learn their names or dance with them at college parties the way she does with the football team.

The thing is, Katelyn’s hands are full enough already. She is unofficially deemed in charge of the first year Vixens—some combination of the fact that Marissa listens when Katelyn tells her to shut up, and Anaïs trusts her enough to press a pill bottle into her hand after her second overdose in as many weeks, and Billie talks to her more than anyone because Katelyn is the only one who speaks ASL. Katelyn finds she doesn’t mind it. The constant demand for attention makes a welcome difference to the stony silence of her family home. With homework, cheerleading, and three new best friends keeping her busy, Katelyn barely has time to dwell on the hollow feeling that has been cutting her chest open for the past decade.

The thing is, the short blond boy from the exy team is hard to miss. (Well, one of them is anyway.) Katelyn figures out he’s the backliner, the one she saw punching that striker from Breckenridge, and not the one that sticks to Kevin Day like glue, or a prickly burr. He crops up in her biochem lectures, at her favourite campus café, tucked behind a bookshelf at the library across from her and Billie’s usual study spot. He is always accompanied by at least one of his little posse, usually the noisy one, except during their shared lectures. Katelyn finds herself seeking him out when she enters the room and, more often than not, she catches him blinking back at her.

They’re two thirds through their first quarter by the time she learns his name. He stops by her desk on the way out of the lecture hall, causing her notebook to slip out of her hand in surprise. He kneels to pick it up for her and doesn’t smile, but there’s a friendliness to his eyes that Katelyn has never seen before.

“Katelyn, right?” he asks. Katelyn has no idea how he knows this but she nods instead of questioning it. “Aaron. Did you get notes on Voltolini’s lecture this week? I missed it.”

She’s so caught out by the disruption to their routine, by the brittle edge to his voice that she hadn’t expected, by the abrupt introduction to the quarter-long suspense of wondering his name, that she almost forgets to answer. When she realises she’s been staring at him for coming on ten seconds, she shakes it out of her system and finishes zipping up her backpack.

“Oh. Yeah, did you want to borrow them? Or,” she swings the strap of her backpack over her shoulder and steps towards the door, Aaron falling into pace beside her, “we could go over them together?”

He is quiet for a moment, as if the question requires extensive thought. Katelyn wonders briefly if she should be offended by his lack of immediate interest, but decides she finds it endearing that the authenticity of his response matters so much to him.

“At the library?” he offers. “I have a study period now.”

“Sure,” she says. She’d been headed that way to meet Billie anyway and doesn’t suppose they’ll mind the small intrusion.

“So how come you missed the lecture?” she asks when it becomes apparent their trek to the library will remain otherwise silent.

“Andrew,” Aaron says vaguely, waving his hand as though this is sufficient enough an explanation. When Katelyn doesn’t look convinced, he adds, “My brother. You’ve seen him?”

She nods, not totally understanding but realising it’s personal enough that she doesn’t want to pry.

Billie is already sitting at their table when Katelyn arrives, Aaron in tow. They have printouts of various articles spread across the desk and a focused frown on their face, but they look up when Katelyn and Aaron stop in front of them.

“Aaron, this is Billie. Billie, Aaron. From the exy team.”

Billie waves at Aaron, then pierces Katelyn with their gaze, tilting their head slightly in Aaron’s direction.

“Do you speak ASL?” Katelyn asks him as she pulls out a chair and begins unpacking her bag. Aaron settles into the seat next to her, tapping the tabletop anxiously.

“No. Was that in the lecture?”

“No, no, of course not. Don’t worry about it.” Katelyn laughs lightly and makes eye contact with Billie.

“Since when do we hang out with exy players?” they sign, eyes flicking to Aaron.

“He’s borrowing some notes. What’s wrong with being friendly?” she signs back. Billie shrugs and turns back to their articles. Katelyn flicks open her notebook and grins at Aaron.

“Let’s do this,” she says. His responding smile is small and fleeting but Katelyn catches the hard upturn of his lips and her skin tingles all over.

*

Aaron falls easily into place among Katelyn’s friends. He becomes a regular at their study sessions, reading notes over Katelyn’s shoulder or catching her eye across the table with that same smile like a secret that hurts his throat on the way up. He never brings any of his teammates, but Katelyn can’t complain. Study Aaron and Exy Aaron, she decides, are two sides of the same coin. He’s softer around her and her friends, all secret smiles and nervous tapping. She can’t imagine Study Aaron punching anyone in the face.

He spills into her other routines intrinsically. She stops making excuses to invite him out for coffee or to lunch or on a walk around the campus green when she’s feeling antsy. She struggles to remember a time when the sight of him intimidated her, when she believed the rumours turning the air sour at his heels wherever he walked.

Katie he calls her from across the hall to grab her attention, and Kate when he talks about her to her friends, and K (intimate and familiar and warm in her chest) over text. Katie-Lyn he teases when they’re alone on one of their walks and he relaxes enough that his smile stops looking like barbed wire. She laughs and elbows him and writes Double-A-Ron on the back of folded notes they pass between them during lectures.

Katelyn doesn’t engage with the exy team, but every rule has its exceptions and Aaron is hers. Brilliant, beautiful Aaron, who keeps his smiles a secret and his family a mystery and who holds her gaze across a crowded hallway like it is the most fragile of things.

They never call it dating, though Katelyn suspects that might be what it is. She hardly qualifies as an expert but the shared lunches and secret notes and blushing eye contact feel too reminiscent of her high school girlfriend to be anything else. (She asks Billie, once, if they think Aaron thinks they’re a couple and they roll their eyes and wave her off. She cannot bring herself to put up with Marissa’s crowing long enough to ask for another opinion.) So it’s hard to say where he falls in the categories of her relationships, but when she invites him out for dinner he doesn’t say no and, though she doesn’t call it a date, it doesn’t feel platonic.

They go to an Italian restaurant on campus, partly because Katelyn figures everyone likes pizza and partly because Marissa says the sundae for two is a date-saver. (Not that Katelyn likes to think their sort-of-date will need saving, but it’s always nice to be prepared.) And she’s right, because Aaron does like pizza and the sundae is delicious and the date doesn’t need saving. Until it does.

“I had to beg Nicky to cover for me tonight,” Aaron is saying, no trace of the curl Katelyn has come to search for at the corner of his lips. “He doesn’t like disrupting the balance.”

Katelyn isn’t sure she follows but she doesn’t have to ask to know the only explanation she’ll get is Andrew. His name is the answer to every question, no matter how she phrases it. His name is the flat line of Aaron’s mouth and the fierce swing of his uppercut. His name is the undeniable truth behind the rumours that tail Aaron wherever he goes.

“We can’t do this,” Aaron says and the ice cream turns to dust in Katelyn’s mouth. She thinks bitterly that at least she can prove Marissa wrong; no sundae for two is saving this date.

“Do what?” she asks and her voice is too small for her mouth. She is eight years old and Aaron is the doctor dangling hope too far out of her reach.

“You, me, us,” he says, frustrated and lonely and scared all at once. “You can’t fall in love with me.”

It aches in more ways than she could have known it would. Because how do you predict the outcome when you’re missing the beginning? How do you prepare for the fallout when you aren’t part of the equation? When you’re just collateral damage?

“Says who?” Katelyn asks, and then, “Andrew” in unison with Aaron because, of course. Because, who else?

Aaron’s cheek dimples between his teeth and he lets his spoon clang against the rim of their shared bowl. Katelyn pushes hers through the half-melted ice cream, appetite fast disappearing. She wants to demand answers or argue the absurdity of their situation or maybe just cry. Instead, she folds.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay?”

“I get it. It’s okay.”

She doesn’t get it, but Aaron looks at her like she’s handing him the moon so she breathes through her nose, counts to five, and offers him a shaky smile. Moulding herself into the shapes other people need her to be is Katelyn’s specialty. She grew up a chameleon in order to survive. This is no different to her father looking at her like he needed a clinically detached housemaid more than he needed a daughter mourning the loss of her mother.

“Ready to call it a night?” she says, because there is something irreparable in the air between them.

“I’ll walk you back,” Aaron agrees.

They say goodnight outside Katelyn’s dorm building, but what they mean is goodbye. What they mean is this is it. What they mean is we had a good thing and neither of us are good enough people to deserve that.

Katelyn, nineteen-and-three-quarter years old, watches hope shatter in all too familiar shards.

*

They never called it dating, so they don’t call it a break up, but that’s what it feels like. It is broken where Katelyn can’t reach to fix it because she does not know what fractured it to begin with. There is a week between Katelyn’s return home for the holidays and her brother’s scheduled time off, during which the silence of her childhood home sits heavy on her shoulders. She passes the time under a mound of blankets, drowning out her father’s refusal to acknowledge her with television static.

When Antoni returns, so does the life slowly trickling out of the air. He wields noise like a blade to the abrasive reticence of their home, and goads Katelyn out of bed to help him make potato fritters.

“Chiquita, college has made you so mopey,” he says, watching her instead of the eggs he’s whisking. Katelyn slices onions and pretends they are the only reason her eyes sting.

“More like being in this house makes me mopey. College keeps me too busy for that.”

Antoni hums, and watches her, and whisks his eggs.

“And how is college? Top of your class yet?”

Katelyn rolls her eyes but tells him about her lectures and her friends and her cheer practice. She finishes with the onions and starts combining the second bowl of mixture while Antoni scoops the first into misshapen ovals. When the fritters are under the grill and Katelyn’s eyes have stopped stinging altogether, Antoni pours them each a glass of iced tea and leans across the kitchen island to smile at her.

“So has the little Vixen caught a Fox yet?” He pauses to consider her a moment. “Or another Vixen perhaps?”

Katelyn sucks in a breath but doesn’t answer the question, and the silence rings deafening in her ears. She tells her brother everything but she cannot tell him this. (They never called it dating. There is nothing to tell anyway.)

“Oh, Kitty-Kat. Come here,” Antoni says. He doesn’t wait for her to move, instead rounding the island to wrap his arms around her from behind. She leans her head against his bicep, turning so her face is mashed into his woolen jumper, and closes her eyes. They stay like that, his chest to her back and his chin against her crown, for as long as it takes her to stop holding air in her chest until she’s gasping and shaky. She doesn’t cry, but her throat feels raw enough that she could have.

“Ant,” Katelyn whispers, her voice shaking on the vowel, “do you think I’m broken?”

“Of course you’re not.” His arms tighten a fraction around her shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

“It feels like everything I touch shatters.”

She thinks of her mother’s life splintering to pieces in Katelyn’s eight year old hands, of her father’s voice splitting in two and washing away whenever he tried to speak to her, of Aaron’s face contorting as their date cracked and caved around them. She feels like a fractured bone, cleft down the middle, never whole as she is.

Antoni lets out a soft breath against her hair and presses a kiss to the curve of her skull.

“No, chiquita,” he says, “you’re not broken. The world is.”

*

Returning to Palmetto is easier than Katelyn expects it to be. Antoni only has three weeks leave, so Katelyn spends the last month of vacation alone with her father. She is almost ready to welcome the noise and clutter of her college dorm.

Returning to the Vixens is more of a homecoming than entering her family house. As sophomores, they’re expected to throw themselves both into their own practice and that of the freshmen, and Katelyn and Marissa’s room becomes something of a communal ground for the first and second years. Katelyn doesn’t mind so much, because it takes her thoughts off the scowl she hasn’t seen leave Aaron’s face since they returned from break.

She watches the exy team walk to and from the stadium on game nights, their divide in half somehow having become thirds, until she realises the centre group is actually a solitary affair: a dark-haired, rabbit-eyed boy curled in on himself, alone in the rift between his teammates. She focuses on him because it stops her gaze from betraying her resolve and straying to where Aaron walks several paces behind.

And it almost lasts; this painstaking stalemate, this mutual ignorance. Katelyn sits with her back to his table in the library and Aaron walks past her without pausing on the way out of their lecture theatre. It almost stops feeling like a bruise underneath her skin.

But somehow he trickles back into her life as easily as he did once before. Katelyn finds she can smile at him when they pass each other on campus and she can make eye contact when she waves his teammates onto the court during games. She remembers the way he cupped her name in the curl of his tongue as if it were reverent and fragile as glass. She remembers how he held her gaze like he was trying to keep her afloat, and how he saved his smiles to share in the privacy of her company. She remembers he did not build the wall between them, only said he wouldn’t climb it, and she can’t blame him for resting his weary hands.

So when she misses her morning lecture because Marissa woke with a bad taste in her mouth and a tremor in her hands, Katelyn catches Aaron on his way to the library, a hand in his path and a question in her eyes.

“I had to skip this morning. Do you mind sharing notes?” It’s a surrender of sorts, an end to their face-off. Aaron made the first move all those months ago, so this time Katelyn dresses in white armour and guides her pawn forward. They have come full circle.

Aaron’s smile is slow, a tentative curl that crawls quietly up his face, and Katelyn realises for the first time how much she has missed seeing it bloom for her.

“I’m headed to the library now if you’ve got time,” he says. The words are marrow filling the cracks of Katelyn’s broken bone and she feels herself coming together as their steps line up with one another.

It’s easier, after their not-breakup, to build their routine around honesty. Andrew is still an answer, but this time one that comes served with an explanation. Katelyn still doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand the chokehold that Aaron calls family, but she respects it. After all, she isn’t in a position to point fingers at dysfunctional.

They confine their dates to the library café and the medicine building, avoiding places that Aaron’s family are likely to haunt. And it isn’t perfect, it isn’t textbook romance, but for the first time it is something whole that Katelyn cradles to her chest and it does not shatter on impact.

When Aaron leaves for a weekend and comes home a broken man—brotherless, breathless, hands a bruised and bloodied mess—Katelyn does what she has always done best and builds him back together with her own chipped pieces. She fights his nightmares with nothing but her fists and takes his hands in her own when he cannot look at them without seeing blood beneath his fingernails. She does what she can but she is still just collateral, she is still on the outside looking in on a rupture that happened long before she became a spectator. There is still a tear that Katelyn does not know how to stitch up.

*

(The dark-haired, rabbit-eyed boy is called Neil and his hair isn’t actually quite so dark and he is fixing the broken parts Katelyn can’t reach and when he says Andrew’s name it sounds like a question, not an answer.)

*

Getting Aaron back is the gift Katelyn doesn’t think she deserves. Cutting him off feels like shattering her own hope. She watches the pieces slide between her fingers, shoves the remnants deep where she can’t cut herself on their serrated edges, and tries not to think of the way Aaron’s face split apart when she told him Andrew was the answer to a question he did not ask.

She tells Billie, late one night as they pass a bottle of Marissa’s claret between them from opposite ends of the couch, that she doesn’t know if she’ll be whole again. It is a vulnerability that no one but Antoni ever sees, but Katelyn is wine-drunk and fractured, too disheartened to care that her misery has an audience.

“Why not?” Billie says, holding the bottle between their knees to free up their hands. “You were whole before him. He didn’t take anything you can’t replace.”

“He was the first thing I had that I thought I could hold on to.” Katelyn’s hands falter as the weight of her honesty hits her. She doesn’t know who she is when she isn’t fixing other people and Aaron is a fissure that is out of her hands. “What’s the point if I can’t keep anything without breaking it?”

“You have us. You have the team. You have a career path you’re good at and a hobby you love. You have a brother who adores you and you have Marissa and Anaïs and me. You are whole on your own but you’re part of bigger things too. He’ll come back to you or he won’t and either way you’ll still be the person you always have been.”

It doesn’t seem appropriate to cry, but Katelyn is wine-drunk and fractured, so she does anyway. Billie hooks their ankle around hers on the couch between them and knocks the claret bottle against her knee. Katelyn alternates between drinking and sobbing, and loses the rest of the night to the breaking of her heart.

*

Aaron comes back to her piece by broken piece. He shows up at her dorm with his pain a palpable weight in his hands and tells her he’s trying, he’s breaking faster than he can put himself together but he’s trying. And Katelyn knows a thing or two about falling apart.

They pour their fragments into one another in Katelyn’s bed because Marissa is out with some of the older Vixens and they both know better than to waste an empty dorm room. Later, with his back to Katelyn’s chest and his legs slid between either of hers, Aaron finds the parts of his voice he has been missing.

“You were the first beautiful thing I ever called mine,” he says and Katelyn remembers midnight with Billie, remembers the saccharine claret slipping down her throat, remembers thinking Aaron was the first thing she could ever keep whole. “I won’t lose you for him.”

Katelyn slides her hand across the bare expanse of his stomach, presses her face into the base of his neck, and breathes and breathes and breathes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, and means it.

They patch themselves up in tandem—Aaron knits one, Katelyn purls two—and they are old hands at this now. Katelyn watches their healing overlap in familiar stitches and she waits and she hopes and she breathes. Because this thing between them is chipped and bruised but it is whole. It is theirs.

When Andrew comes for her, Katelyn wonders if she should be surprised. She has heard his name in response to too many questions to be shocked when he treats his words like an arrow and her the target. He and Aaron are identical twins but when Katelyn looks at him up close for the first time, all she sees are the differences. He carries none of the regret that bleeds through Aaron’s teeth and too much of the horror that feeds behind his eyes.

“You won,” rabbit-eyed Neil says, gaze already chasing after Andrew like he might not be just any answer but the answer. “Aaron’s not in class now, if you want to call him.”

Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, her brain says and her fingers, though numb with fear, respond on reflex. He picks up while Katelyn is halfway through a choked sob and she hears his breath sharpen like a dagger.

“Katelyn?” His voice is a rush of concern, a spear and shield readying itself in her defence. “What happened?”

“Andrew,” is all she can say between broken breaths, and it is the answer to every question. After all this time, she gets it.

In the time it takes Aaron to get from his dorm to the library, Katelyn has found her breath but not her strength. She is still curled in on herself behind the bookshelf in the far corner and she knows her friends will be wondering but she doesn’t yet trust her legs to support her. Aaron sinks down next to her, an anchor holding her steady in the aftermath of Andrew’s storm.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks quietly and Katelyn doesn’t know how to answer. She thinks if she opens her mouth she might not know how to do anything but cry.

It’s enough of an answer though. Aaron vibrates with an anger that he almost never wears around her and Katelyn thinks of the Breckenridge striker who took Aaron’s fist to the face. He looks more like the other side of the coin, more like Exy Aaron, than she has seen him in a while.

“I told you not to fall in love with me,” he says. It is frustrated and lonely and scared, and Katelyn has heard him sound like that once before and she will do anything before she lets him shatter again.

“I didn’t listen.”

He falls into her at that, half straddling her lap, arms around her waist and face pressed hard to her shoulder. Katelyn raises her arms to cradle his body against her, rests her cheek in the nest of his hair, and thinks this is it. Thinks he is the answer. Thinks we won.

“My Katie,” Aaron whispers into her skin and it is the glue drawing her broken shards together.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Queen of Hearts - Chapter 11

Thirty-year-old Rose Tyler’s matchmaking business is doing very well indeed, bringing her clients such as celebrities, athletes, and the now-happily-married son of the mayor.  All of which brings her to her newest client - one whose royal rank is a far cry above her own title as Queen of Hearts.

Ian, King of Gallifrey, calls off his wedding four weeks before the happy day as he realizes he can’t spend another minute of his life with his betrothed.  The catch - he must take a wife before his Coronation, only a month away.  In desperation, his sister and aunt conspire to find him is happy ever after - and it’s going to take a master matchmaker to do it.

-

Based on the Hallmark Movie ‘Royal Matchmaker’.  Chapters will be posted every Sunday.

As always, beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma​!  @doctorroseprompts

Masterlist  |  AO3

---

Sunday, April 14th

“Ta da!” Rose said triumphantly, laying three pictures down on the desk. 

The first was Peri Brown - twenty-three, she was the daughter of an American newspaper magnate.  A botanist by trade, they shared a love of science and nature.  A (potential) marriage of opposites meant she would be ideal to breathe life and fun into the palace, with her bubbly optimism and can-do spirit.

In the middle was Romana Trelundar, a brunette beauty and Italian Countess.  The epitome of elegance, she would bring grace and decorum to the role. At thirty-five she was the oldest of the three, but brought a level of maturity to the match the younger women might not.

Then, third, was the highest-rated of the three, Rose’s top choice if Reinette didn’t pull through.  

Twenty-seven year old Clara Oswald was the daughter of an English Earl from the Midlands.  After a few aimless years out of uni, she’d found a love for teaching literature.  After discovering the King’s dedication to the Children’s Center, Clara’s roots in educating and tending to children put her near the top of the list.

All three smiled up from candid photos Mel had pulled from their Instagrams.  They were the final three, the culmination of two weeks of frantic matchmaking, and one of them would hopefully result in an untarnished reputation for Rose, when the lucky one married the King.

Her heart clenched.

“Great job!” Mel gushed, as they peered down at the photographs together.  “I knew you could do it.”

“We’re not done yet,” Rose warned.  “Not until the King says ‘I do’.  Then we can relax and celebrate.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be celebrating,” her friend said, with just enough of a hint of mystery in her tone to catch Rose’s attention.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mel shrugged, slurping at her ever-present glass of carrot juice.  “I’m just looking forward to seeing how this all turns out.  Attending a royal wedding.  On your birthday!”

“Me too.”  Rose worried her lip.  So much was riding on the success of this job, the idea of failure was unthinkable, and every time it was alluded to, her breath caught and her heart ached with nerves and worry.

“Did we get his surveys back?”

“Nope.  He said he’s not quite ready to hand them over yet.  Starting tomorrow he’ll spend a full day with each of them – Wednesday night he’ll let me know.  He said he wants to be sure.”

Studying the three pictures in front of her, Rose let her gaze drift up towards Reinette’s picture, which was still tacked onto the corkboard mostly out of hope.

Please let him find someone.  Please let him find the one.

-

Wednesday, April 17th

With nothing to do but wait, Rose and Mel spent the first half of the week getting in touch with Reinette and arranging her travel.  With her job almost complete but for him to make his decision, she had no excuse reason to spend the day shadowing him, though she continued to be summoned to share meals.

She told herself (and Mel, not that her friend ever asked) that her enthusiasm was for the opportunity to hear about how his relationships with the women were progressing. 

Which would have been true, if he told her anything.

By Wednesday night she was ready to tear her hair out with frustration, equally eager and terrified to hear who he would choose.

It has to be Clara, right? she worried her thumbnail, as Ryan led her through the palace ostensibly for dinner.  Will she be there?  Where are we going, anyway?

“His Majesty is down by the lake,” Ryan said, stopping at the doors to the patio that faced said lake.  Holding out her coat to her, his expectation that she would join the King was clear.

“Thank you,” was all she said, wrapping the trench coat around herself and stepping out the door, grumbling to herself.  If I‘d known I was coming outside, I would’ve worn pants.  Thinking they’d be inside for the night, she’d worn a cocktail dress and heels just as she had most of the evenings, leaving her legs bare and freezing.  Her only consolation was that the ground was so solid, her stilettos didn’t sink into the dirt.

First thing that check is buying are new shoes, she thought, picking her way down the worn dirt path.  She could see him, now, a solitary figure at the lakeside, illuminated by the moonlight.

In another life, it would be utterly romantic, and if she were one of the three potential matches she would think he was about to propose.

“Hi,” she said quietly when she got close enough, not wanting to startle him.

“Hey.”  The King let out a heavy sigh, and Rose’s heart simultaneously clenched and eased.

Stepping up she stood shoulder to shoulder with him, only inches away from touching as they stared out at the water together.

“What’s going on?” she finally asked, after several freezing minutes.  She didn’t want to rush him, but the air was even colder down on the shore, and she would shortly shiver herself to death.  “How did your days with Peri, Romana, and Clara go?”

The King shrugged, glancing her way, an unenthused expression on his face.  “Fine.  They were all lovely women.  In another universe I could have been friends with any one of them, maybe.”

“And in this one?”

He licked his lips.  “Nothing.  Not one damn butterfly.  I’m sure they’re perfect for someone, but that someone isn’t me.”

“Nothing?!” Rose demanded, incensed and a little offended.  Did he even try?  Is he just trying to waste my time, run out the clock?  “Okay maybe not love, but nothing?  What’s wrong with you!”

“Oi!”

“I know what I’m doing,” she insisted.  If he doesn’t marry one of them, someone, then my career is done.  “Those women could be perfect for you!  Were you open to it?  If you don’t open your heart you won’t find anyone!  Are you just determined to- to- to make me fail?”

Surprisingly, the King managed to keep his cool, though he gave her a severe look.  “You said I’d know,” he maintained, “and I did know – that they weren’t right.  Surely there must be other women.  What about that French girl?”

“Reinette,” she snapped, “will be arriving tomorrow night.  Your engagement party is a week from today.  I suggest you think very carefully before dismissing her so quickly as well.  At this point, there are no guarantees.”

And turning on her heel, she stomped back up to the palace without waiting to be dismissed, fuming all the way.

-

Ian watched her go, too amused to be surprised or offended by her lack of consideration for protocol.

You’re a total goner, Ian Reginald, the little voice in the back of his mind whispered, and sighing, he knew it was right.

Sticking his hands in his pockets he made his way to the palace, surprised but pleased to enter his dining room to find her already in her chair, arms crossed.  She was still stewing, but she was there, and at the moment that was all that mattered.

She pointedly didn’t rise when he entered, not saying a word until their first course was served and they were alone.  “Tell me why you didn’t like them.”

“They weren’t-” you “-right.  They were interesting, but I wasn’t interested.  No spark, no butterflies.  No fireworks.”

“Was there something specific?  Something I can use to adjust the formula, I mean?  Too… old, too young, you want a blonde or a brunette or a redhead?  Spanish, Eastern European, American? Nobility?  Wealthy?  I just- I don’t understand how all of them could be so wrong!”  Rose viciously stabbed at her salad, and he had to hide a smile.

“Let’s see how it goes with Reinette,” he said gently, “and then… then we’ll see.”

He would play along, meet the woman, spend time with her.

And then, he would figure out how to convince his sister to let him marry Rose.

Happy indigestion indeed.

-

Thursday, April 18th

Ian spent the next morning in a state of placid panic, as he waited on pins and needles for Reinette to arrive at the palace.  He felt a tiny bit bad about dragging her to Gallifrey just to waste her time, but it had to be done, and he had to give her a fair chance before dismissing her.

Rose had arranged a late dinner for them to meet, in the restaurant attached to the largest inn in town.

She went along for the ride, ostensibly so she could formally introduce them, though he suspected it was mainly to badger and lecture him when he couldn’t escape.

With a desperate seriousness and blazing eyes, she let him have it, and he could hear the occasional snort from Graham as she ranted, but Ian paid far more attention to her mouth than the words coming out of it.  With every severe gesture the pom on the top of her beanie waved.

It was adorable.  She was adorable.

“Are you even listening to me?!” she demanded, snapping him out of his daze.

“Of course,” Ian rolled his eyes, blatantly lying; judging by her narrowed gaze, she knew it as well.

Pursing her lips and crossing her arms, she said, “I’m working on finding more candidates if you’re not happy with her, but please give her a chance.  The wedding is in nine days.  You need to decide.”

“All right, all right,” he dismissed, not quite ready to tell her he had decided.  He would have dinner with Reinette, then tomorrow morning sit down with Donna and Sarah and tell them his plans.  Provided they agreed, Rose could be wearing his ring in less than twenty-four hours.

His stomach rioted at the idea, but in a good way, and he found her description of happy indigestion to still be on the nose.  “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck!  And behave.”  The car pulled to a stop and they got out, Ian offering Rose his hand and thrilled when she took it.

She led him into the restaurant and towards the booth tucked in the corner.  The locals in the restaurant recognized him, starting to stand, but he just smiled and shook his head.

A lithe blonde poured from the booth at seeing them to stand next to it, dropping into a technically perfect curtsey.  “Your Majesty,” she murmured, the words rolling off her tongue with a delightful French accent.

“Your ladyship,” he replied, taking her hand and kissing it gently.  To his amusement Rose’s face twitched, a sour expression flashing across it, in jealousy he hoped.  “A pleasure.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Rose bit out, smiling so brightly he thought her face would crack.  After seeing so many genuine grins from her, it was easy to tell how fake this one was.  She is jealous!  “Bon appetit.”

And she spun on her heel and left, Ian watching her go with a twinkle in his eye before settling down on the far side of the booth, across from Reinette and giving him a visual of the entire room.

Picking up his menu, he peeked towards the door to see Rose standing there, door half open, watching with what could only be described as a longing look.

I just have to get through tonight, then tomorrow she will be mine.

-

Despite his preoccupation with Rose, he found Reinette to be a decent dinner companion.  If he wasn’t already arse over teakettle for Rose, he might have even found himself drawn to her.  She was clever and witty, full of confidence but not herself.  They shared many interests, and even knew many of the same people – her family home in France was less than an hour’s drive from the Gallifreyan/French border.

Exactly as Rose had predicted, she would make the perfect queen of Gallifrey.

But she wasn’t Rose.

Deciding to forgo a ride back to the palace, after seeing Reinette to the stairs as she was staying in the attached hotel, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back.  It was a solid two-mile walk, but for as often as he did it it was nothing to him.

The crisp, clean air helped clear his mind, and he plotted out first his conversation with Donna and Sarah, and then how he would broach the subject with Rose.  The first he wasn’t concerned about; the two women were constantly raving about her, how impressed they were with her, and had nothing but good things to say about how she had organized the benefit for the Children’s Center.

His worry was how to start the conversation with Rose.  His gut said she felt as he did, that his feelings were not unrequited, but that she would take convincing.  She hadn’t come to Gallifrey to marry, and if she did become Queen, she would have to give up the life she knew.  Her dedication and love for her career were obvious, and he was sorry to know if she accepted she would have to leave it behind.

Whistling softly to himself as he climbed the steps to go around to the back patio, wanting to avoid the fuss of walking in through the front door, he spotted her leaning on the balcony of the upper level of the garden, staring out at the lake.  Walking on the lower path to stand beneath her, feeling like the Romeo to her Juliet and trying to remember how exactly the scene started so he could quote it to her, he heard her speak.

“I’ll be home once the King is married on Saturday.”  A pause, and he realized she was on her mobile.  Talking to her mum?  He knew the two were close, and he wondered if he should announce his presence; given the angle and darkness, she probably couldn’t see him.  “Come on Mickey, don’t be like that.”  Mickey?  Who was Mickey?  “Of course I miss you.”  What?  “I’ll be home soon, we can start planning the wedding then.  I’ve got to go though, it’s late.”  Wedding?  “Love you too.  Night.”

Love you.  Love you.  Love you.

The words repeated in his mind as Ian’s heart shattered into a trillion tiny pieces, laying broken and bleeding on the flagstones.

How could I have been so wrong?

[livesbeneath]

the end of all things.

pairing: noah x female mc (harley blanco)

summary: it’s three am, and her laugh is in his head. it almost makes him want to live.

word count: 2.8k.

author’s note: i decided to try and revert back to my old epic poem-esque style for this work, and i have to say, i am extremely excited about how it turned out!  this piece has been a labor of love for me, and i really hope you all enjoy a brief journey across canon with a little added perspective from noah and mc.  i wrote this fic mainly while listening to  the end of all things  by panic! at the disco, hence the name. i highly recommend giving the song a listen since it’s gorgeous - and really helps set the mood. i apologize for any grammar / sentence structure issues, as i tried to proofread the best i could, and thank anyone who takes the time to read!  feedback in any form is deeply appreciated!  (and a big thanks to @gayvathewitch for being my first set of eyes <3)

disclaimer: i do not own these characters / some of the dialogue present. creative liberty has been taken to make this story unique, and i do not intend to use it for profit in any way.

whether near or far, i am always yours. any change in  time, we are young again. so lay us down. we’re in love.

i. bravery

She asserted herself as the bravest in the group at age seven. She picked up worms after rainstorms, rode her bike without a helmet, and tried a new vegetable every month. She jumped into the public pool without holding her nose and didn’t wear swim goggles.

Despite being a pup, Harley led the pack. She was destined to grow into her claws.

ii. cowardice

He always looked slightly anxious. He was cautious, moody, protective. He often hid under his covers at night when he heard the wind blow through his window. It was broken, and refused to close all the way.

Noah wasn’t a wolfish young boy. He was more the shadow that hung behind the sun.

iii. third

He decides eight o’clock in the morning is too early to be awake. Noah suppresses a yawn, eyelids drooping. His mom says that he’ll be able to walk to school after he turns twelve. Until then, he’s stuck on the bus.

“Where’s Jane?” Harley asks quizzically, her Monsters Inc. lunchbox sat on her lap. The two girls always sat together. Noah usually took the seat across the aisle from them - but today it had been claimed by Grant Warner, and he was a fifth grader.

“She has a fever.” He frowns as he stares at the empty space beside her. “Can I sit?”

“I don’t know-” she grins, pulling on one of her own pigtails. “Can you? Do you know how to sit, Noah?”

“Shut up.” he grumbles as he plops down. She knows he doesn’t mean it, and that only makes her giggle harder. The sound makes him want to shove her lunch onto the floor. That is, until he hears his mother’s voice in the back of his head.

You know, boys only pick on girls if they like them, Noah.

Frowning to himself, he sinks lower into the seat, not bothering to shrug his backpack off his shoulders. Her voice was too loud for such an early morning.

“Are you nervous?” she answers before he can even take a breath. “I’m not nervous. I can’t wait to tell Jane all about it!”

“Third grade is gonna be just like second grade, y’know.”

Her spirit is seemingly indomitable, as she simply cheers in response. Her second grade year was a blast - and his was filled with butterflies. Annoying butterflies.

Butterflies he’d like to squish.

iv. sleepover

Mrs. Marshall had packed her children a travel-sized bag of cheesyfish, their own separate flavored toothpastes, and mismatched pairs of socks. She didn’t stop at the front door of Harley’s house to see her children off. Her migraines were getting worse - and a quiet night free of her kids was just what the doctor ordered.

Noah was shocked when Harley’s father answered the door. He didn’t see her parents much. In fact, he was pretty sure they were supposed to be in Boston on business in a week.

Immediately, the twins were whisked to the backyard where the rest of their friends were waiting. Andy was ripping clumps of grass out of the ground and throwing them at Lucas, which was highly amusing to the other children.

“Harley!” Jane says from beside him, a sly smile on her face. “Tell Noah to stop being such a big baby about Mr. Red.”

Harley’s mouth forms an o-shape, her eyebrows raising. “You don’t want to go play with Mr. Red tonight?”

“I’m not a baby! I just think - what if your parents see we aren’t here?”

“That’s why we have a tent, silly! And blankets and pillows to make props! We know Mr. Red can’t really play with us in the light.”

He bites his lip. “It’s gonna be really dark.”

“We can bring flashlights!” Harley smiles. “Or, we can stay here. I want to go to help protect everyone, but you remember the playtime rule, don’t you?”

A few feet away, Jane breaks a twig in half with a clean snap!

“Everyone plays together!”

v. whispers

Her first mistake was not making it to the gym early. If she had, maybe she could have snagged a seat at the top of the bleachers, somewhere high up, a corner against the wall where no one would bother her.

She’s all too aware of his lazy eyes. Tired as they may be, they burn into her back as she stands there like an idiot, contemplating a daring escape out the closest exit.

“Hey, Harley! Sit your stupid ass down unless you wanna watch from the garbage can!”

To her chagrin, Noah makes no move to assist her as she stands there. She doesn’t expect him to, but it would have been the most efficient way to make Cody shut his mouth.

“Hello? You’re blocking our view, and there’s a spot right there!” Jocelyn blurts, waving a hand towards the only seat left open in the whole place.

She exhales before turning at a snail’s pace to meet Noah’s eyes. He sits there expectantly, and Harley assumes that he already knows his answer to her question before she’s even asked it. Swallowing her pride, she offers him a reluctant smile. “Hey, Noah. Do you mind if I…?”

Can you? Do you know how to sit, Harley?

“Knock yourself out.”

He takes his time scooting to the side. Harley shoots Cody and Jocelyn one last glare before stepping up and squeezing beside Noah, crossing her arms across her chest as she plants her feet firmly on the platform below. Any attempts at small talk will be futile, and yet-

“So… what’s been up with you? We haven’t really talked since…”

His voice is a flatline. He shifts uncomfortably in his spot. “Yeah, I know.”

Harley shakes her head slightly as she glances around, her eyes not exactly focusing in on anything, not even Lucas as he approaches center floor to begin the assembly. The gymnasium rumbles around them as the students welcome their class president. Both stay still, letting the vibrations from over a hundred feet stomping madly drown out the rumbles of awkwardness situated in their stomachs.

They fall into a steeled, not-quite conversation. Occasional jabs at Lucas’ discovery of hair gel and Stacy’s cheermates inch them closer and closer to dismissal. After the bell, they’ll hopefully never have to do this again.

“Why do people like her so much?” Harley huffs offhandedly, eyeing Britney in the sea of pom poms before them. “They’ve got to know how horrible she is.”

“And?” Noah begins. “She’s hot and she can do flips. We can’t compete with that.”

She turns to look at him, a curious half-smile on her face as he shrugs. It’s somewhat comforting to know that they remain similar despite the ten years of radio silence between them.

It isn’t the same with everyone else, though. Some of them are still stuck in the gutter of the social pyramid, some of them seemingly free from it, parading around the gym like they own it.

“Huh. Andy actually made the team this year.”

Harley can’t help but grin at that. “Good for him! I can’t wait to see him play.”

Noah yawns as the basketball team captain takes the podium, his speech a carbon copy of every other student-written rallying cry, right down to the obnoxious Westchester Wolves howl.

However, one element manages to catch them both off guard: the flickering of the gymnasium lights.

Then, a plea from Lucas to stay seated. A microphone full of feedback. A broken stereo system.

With a loud BANG!, the doors of the gym fly open, and the lights flicker back on.

She feels a hand clamp around her arm. A shiver up her spine.

“God! What are you-”

He speaks with a frightening concern. “Shut up! Do you hear that!?”

“Hear what?”

“Ssssshhhh!”

The music sputters and dies as the lights shut off completely. A voice, completely alien and horribly familiar.

A whisper.

“Everyone… plays… together.”

vi. resurgence

They all started spending time together, but only out of obligation. It wasn’t as if cops could just arrest Redfield.

She understands Noah’s anger, but it doesn’t make the sight of his face twisted in rage any easier to see. It’s a constant reminder that maybe they could have spared themselves years of loneliness if one of them had been tough enough to speak up.

Harley wasn’t going to stand back anymore. Not after the assembly. Not after finding Dan. Not after what he had told her in the hardware store.

“Mom blames me, y’know. For Jane… and for dad leaving right after.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. She’s said it to my face. Regularly, actually.”

It’s moments like that, like him looking so paralyzed when a monster charges at him, which spark up remembrance in her. They not only make her realize how much she’s missed him, but how much she’s always wanted to be there for him. To protect him. Something about him ignites the hero in her.

She finds where he sits at lunch and plops down.

He wonders why she didn’t ask before doing so.

vii. effortless

The cobblestone around Britney’s pool proved to be terribly unkind to any kind of shoe that required balance to walk in. Decked out in gold and heels, an ensemble that was a giant leap from her normal bomber jacket, it almost made Harley wish that she hadn’t agreed to take a walk with him.

Almost.

Jocelyn’s laugh and the rest of the party fades out behind them as they reach the edge of the backyard, the gentle lapping of the pool water calming Harley’s nerves.

She feels the urge to reach down her throat and rip her heart from her chest in an attempt to silence it. From the moment she had seen him in his natural habitat, gracelessly tossing potato chips into the pool, her heartbeat had been on the fritz.

Nevertheless, she appears just as collected as ever, even as the two of them share a grin. She takes note of how much lighter he looks when he does so.

“So I gotta ask-” she begins. “Why’d you decide to come tonight.”

He looks her over subtly. His hands begin to sweat. “It’s dumb.”

“I bet it’s not! What if I tell you something dumb?”

“Depends on what you got.”

She runs through multiple replies in her mind. There’s “I think you look nice with your hair long”, along with “I felt my stomach lurch when you laughed earlier”. There’s also-

“I got points off my language arts homework because I misspelled orange.”

His lips turn upward, and he doesn’t work to suppress a chuckle. “You mean the most phonetically sound word in the English language?”

“See? Now that was dumb.” she watches him shake his head, taking a breath.

“I came because…”

Because you would be here. Because she made things a bit easier to bear. “Well, being with your friends in a place you hate is still better than being alone, right?”

He drifts from her in that moment, the grill a few feet away giving him something more stable to think about. She approaches - relentless as always - a smile on her face. He wishes he could be so easygoing.

She speaks so easily, and he doesn’t think she realizes the impact of the stuff she says. Noah doesn’t know what it is about her that makes her so much easier to talk to. So easy to snap at, and then confide in seconds later. He knows she deserves better than his polar opposites. She would have a much better time playing spin the bottle with Stacy’s brother.

And yet, she doesn’t go. Not when he digs up skeletons from his past, not when he mentions his wishes for the future. He barely realizes he’s talking about Baby Jane’s, something that he’s never mentioned away from pen and paper, until the words leave his mouth. Until she happily asks “Will you let me be a waitress at Baby Jane’s someday?”

Something about it is so effortless. Something about them is so…

“Now, what do you say we go back to the party? See if Britney has any hot dogs?”

He shakes his head as music begins to blare from the house. “You go ahead. I like how quiet it is over here.”

Harley’s face practically glows as she recognizes the song playing, and she turns back to him, enthusiastically sticking her arm out. “Are you sure? Come on, come dance with me!”

“Hey, I bet Andy would dance with you.” he can’t help but smile, pointedly trying to ignore the adorable way she bobs along to the bass.

Instead of replying, Harley decides to kick off her heels, one of them landing in the pool as she goes. She shakes out her hair, brunette tresses falling over her shoulders and down her back, moving from side to side as she begins to groove along with the sound.

Laughing, she extends both her arms, making grabby hands at him and calling out. “But it’s fun! And it’s Franz Ferdinand! You know Take Me Out, right?”

He doesn’t bother to recall if he knows the song or not, and smiles as he playfully waves her away, standing only to go and fish her shoe out of the water.

Sticking out her tongue, hips swaying, she turns and dances off to where Andy is sitting.

He watches her go, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he marvels at just how plucky she is.

Some things never change.

viii. reverse

He made a bold move of his own a few days later, bell ringing overhead as he showed up unannounced, joining her for all things coffee and Redfield related. She had initially been alone, probably for a reason, as it jostled him to see her so worked up.

After a particularly tense session of rehashing the past, the sound of her pencil furiously scribbling away in her notebook dedicated to Mr. Red is the only thing between them. He shuffles his feet as he sees her violently wipe tears of frustration from her eyes. A sickness pools into his chest as he realizes how much of this she’s taking on by herself  -  and in that, he sees his own reflection.

“I don’t know what to do.” she huffs, dropping her pencil to tug on her hair.

Unwilling to hash out the future in its entirety, his hand grazes hers before pulling away. Instead of something to hold, he gives her a small smile.

“If all else fails, you can always wait tables. Baby Jane’s is gonna need staff members.”

It’s a nice thought.

ix. sidestep

The night was young as the teens celebrated their victory. After spending what seemed like years fearing every shadow that fell beside them, the strobe lights at homecoming seemed almost too good to be true.

Noah drifts off to the side as a slow song begins, feeling his stomach begin to churn as the clock keeps ticking. No matter how he tries, he can’t will the hands to move any faster.

Harley also feels sick, but mainly because she’s just polished off her fourth cup of punch in fifteen minutes. That, and the fact that they’re the only two who haven’t found someone to dance with.

Neither of them work up the courage to make a move.

Maybe he could have if he didn’t know what was coming.

x. betrayal

What was coming could only be better than what had gone.

He tells himself this as he watches her, dress ruined, drenched in Cora Pritchard’s blood and riddled with tears, leave the dogs to deal with the horde closing in on the ruins. This is what they - what he - had to do.

This only makes him sicker as he leads her inside. No amount of hope will ever dull the knife in his pocket. The way he feels about her only makes it sharper, only makes it more painful as she grapples with it against her throat. He thinks it remarkable how valiantly she fights. She thinks it horrific how this is when he finally decides to grow some balls.

Her survival instincts briefly overtake her heart. “Noah, you traitor! Let go of me! If Redfield has hurt any of our friends, I swear-”

The venom in her voice shatters him inside, but he keeps his focus on his sister, on how sweet it will be to finally free her.

He thinks of how when he dies, he won’t ever feel the pain of hurting those he loves again.

xi. together

But as always, she has a plan of her own.

When there is no one left but the two of them, both staring confoundedly at the puff of smoke that was once Redfield, her mind begins to race.

Harley watches his feet drag across the floor as he approaches her, his appearance that of a boy dissolved by his own actions. Noah wants nothing more than to dissipate. He wants nothing more than to make things right. To be brave for once.

Unfortunately, bravery is all she has left.

xi. bravery

So, she sacrifices herself.

xii. cowardice

And as for him?

He runs.

in these coming years, many things will change. but the way  i feel will remain the same. so lay us down. we’re in love.

[101flavoursofweird]

Title: Autumn  Summary: For all the anguish it has brought her, Flora still loves autumn.

Spoilers: For Curious Village, Lost Future, Layton’s Mystery Journey and possible Layton Brothers: Mystery Room.

Characters: Flora-centric with sibling bonding moments between her, Luke, Alfendi and Kat. 

Warnings: Hints of PTSD... and Clive Dove isn’t portrayed in the best light in this fic. (Sorry.) 

(More below the cut since Tumblr seems to have banished links to the Shadow Realm.)

Autumn

When she lived in St Mystere, she used to call it fall, like her Papa did.

Papa wasn’t fond of fall. He always made sure Flora was bundled up in layers before they went out. On rainy days, he preferred for them to stay inside. The only places Flora could play were in the manor or by her Mama’s grave. There, the flowers bloomed all year round— even when it got cold outside.

Ingrid said it was a magic garden.

“A secret magic garden,” Flora whispered.

Sometimes, she felt a bit like Mary Lennox. Mary got sick after her parents died. She moved to an English Manor House, befriended the servants and discovered a secret garden.

Flora had her own secret garden, but she wasn’t sick and her papa wasn’t dead...

She was sat reading behind her mother’s grave when the doctor came to visit. Not even her favorite books could comfort her then.

Matthew found her crying over The Secret Garden. Gently, he took the book from her and wiped its tear-stained pages with his handkerchief.

“This is an old book,” he mumbled. “Old... and yet, timeless.”

He studied the text for a few moments, searching for the right words. His eyes were shiny— or was that just the reflection from his glasses? Flora had never seen Matthew cry.

He sighed. “Don’t worry. We can fix it— the… the book, I mean.”

He dried her eyes and helped her blow her nose. On their way out, Flora picked some red pom-pom flowers (‘Dahlias,’ Matthew called them) for her papa. They wouldn’t last long in a vase. She put them by his bed anyway and he said they were beautiful.

Papa promised it was ‘just a cold’. Flora knew he was lying. If it was a cold, Papa wouldn’t kiss her in case she caught anything. But he kept kissing her head and talking till he got too tried.

This wasn’t something Flora could catch. She could only wait.

Even after her papa died, she kept saying ‘fall’ and so did the villagers.

It was only when she came to London that she learned most people called it ‘autumn’ in Britain. Luke was the one who corrected her.

The two of them had been walking home from school. (She actually went to the girls’ school but Luke liked to meet her on the way home, even more so when the darker evenings crept in.)

Flora’s day had been fine. The other students and the teachers were helping her settle in, but she still had lots of studying to catch up on since she had started late. That meant extra homework and tutoring sessions with the professor.

Flora let her mind wander. She relied on Luke to lead her up a road lined with horse chestnut trees.

“The trees look so pretty in fall...” Their leaves were either orange like the professor’s shirt, or rusty red like robot gears.

“Fall?”

Luke exclamation pulled Flora from her daydream.

“Um, you know... Fall. After summer, when all the leaves fall off the trees.” She pointed at a pile of leaves beside them on the pavement.

“Oh!” Luke kicked up the leaves. “You mean autumn!”

He was showered with leaves and Flora snickered. “Careful, or you’ll get lost in the leaves!”

Laughing, Luke chucked a ball of leaves at her.

She squealed and swept them off her school uniform. (Rosa had ironed it specially for her!)

“Luke!”

He gasped as if he had mortally wounded her. “Sorry! That was a bit rough—“ He got a face full of leaves. “—Ow... I think you threw a conker at me.”

“Conkers!” Crouching, Flora picked up the spiky green shell. She inspected it as a jeweler would an emerald. “Bruno used to make them for me— I mean, put them on a string— and we had conker tournaments. The villagers always let me win, though...”

Everything had seemed so simple back then. She smiled nostalgically the conker shell.

Beside her, she heard leaves crunching. She turned and her eyes widened.

“Bet you’d never beat me.” Luke was on his knees, holding a conker under her nose. “I was the best conker player in Misthallery!”

Flora’s smile became a smirk. “Really? Is that a challenge?”

Her conker would be... unconquerable. She had everything she needed at home: String, glue, a miniature drill she’d ‘borrowed’ from Bruno...

While she planned her conquest, Luke had been stuffing his satchel and coat pockets with conkers. He leapt to his feet and took off like a greedy squirrel. “Bagsie asking the professor for help first!”

What ever happened to ladies first? “Luke, wait up!”

These days, Luke called it ‘fall’. A warm smile enveloped Flora’s face as she read his latest letter. Who was this mysterious girl he couldn’t stop gushing about…?

Her fantasies of Luke’s possible-girlfriend were dashed by the slam of the front door. Her thirteen-year-old brother squelched into the kitchen. He’d been trying to grow his hair out but he currently looked like a drowned rat.

Flora snorted. “Did you forget your brolly?”

“Did you forget you don’t live here anymore?”

Flora didn’t take offence at the extra dose of venom in his voice. School had just started again and it was coming up to that time of year…

“I had a letter from Luke that I wanted to show the professor.” She stretched in her chair and yawned, “Are your joints meant to feel this stiff in your mid-twenties—?” She caught herself when she realised that, oh lord, she sounded like Dahlia. Dahlia would moan whenever her joints needed oiling or her perfect skin needed a polish or the colour was fading from her hair… All while eighty-year-old Bruno toiled away and Flora continued to age.

With age came agency. With each new trial life threw at her, Flora accepted that she couldn’t fuss over the little things.

This was a lesson Alfendi still had yet to learn.

Having ripped off his waterlogged shoes and his backpack, Alfendi raided the fridge.

“I made pasta salad if you want some—“

“Hell, no.”

“Language.” (Kat was out with their father, but still...)

Alfendi groaned, “Who ate all the leftover pizza?”

“Probably Emmy, if she stopped by.”

Alfendi’s scowling face emerged from the fridge. “Not helping.”

“Don’t snap at me just ‘cause you got caught in the rain,” she retorted.

It wasn’t just that, she knew, but she sat in silence as Alfendi fished a soaking, illegible newspaper out of his pocket and held it up to her. “The forecast said it would be dry today. There was only a 35% chance of rain!”

“They can’t always be accurate.”

“Well, they should be!” He pounded the wet paper into a ball and hurled it at the bin. (It landed just next to the bin with a sad ‘plop’.) “Why can’t the weather just make up its bloody mind?” he snarled, swiping wet hair out of his eyes.

The British weather was beyond Flora’s control, but she could at least do something about Alfendi’s hair. “Give me a minute.”

While Alfendi changed into some dry clothes, she nipped up to Kat’s room to grab a brush and a pink bag of hair accessories.

“This is a waste of time,” Alfendi grumbled. Still, he sat obediently as Flora dragged the brush through his wavy hair, taming it into a low ponytail. She offered to add a purple ribbon, so he’d look like a fairytale prince, to which Alfendi told her something very inappropriate for a prince. He was, at least, satisfied with his ponytail as it was ‘practical’ and kept his hair out of his eyes.  

The next time Flora visited the house, she found Alfendi plaiting Kat’s hair. Apparently, a little boy had pulled Kat’s hair at the playground...

“Do you want me to plait your hair next, Al?”

Keeping hold of Kat’s plait, Alfendi turned to glare at Flora. “Get lost. Kat’s going to do my hair.”

“Yeah, get lost, Floor,” Kat said.  

The thought of ‘getting lost’ would have terrified Flora years ago. Now, she just burst out laughing.

In October, Alfendi was promoted from hairstylist to ‘Halloween wardrobe stylist’. He helped Kat put together a spooky outfit every day. Some were inspired by Kat’s current fixations: The little witch from her favourite book, Tigger from The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh and Sesame Street’s Cookie Monster. (Kat saw this as an excuse to eat as many cookies as she liked.) Then there were Kat’s villain ‘disguises’, from Descole to Don Paolo. Alfendi drew the line at Bill Hawks. Not because it would be ‘offensive’— Hawks was the butt of many jokes in the Layton household— but because they all knew who came after Bill Hawks.  

There had been… impersonators every year since Clive Dove’s attack, rather like the clown craze that followed a certain Stephen King novel. None of them copied Clive’s methods, as far as Flora was aware. They were just out to scare the public. That was traumatic enough if you had suffered at the hands of Clive… but what if you bore a striking resemblance to him?    

Much to Kat’s dismay and Flora’s relief, Luke couldn’t make it back for Halloween this year. He was off solving another mystery. Flora hoped he wasn’t alone.  

There hadn’t been any ‘Clive Dove sightings’ on the news lately, but Flora still insisted Emmy should go trick-or-treating with Kat and Alfendi. Flora would have accompanied them herself had she not been invited to a Halloween party by Kuri, her closest friend from university. They hadn’t seen each other for months, so Flora was very grateful for Emmy’s assistance. Emmy was over the moon because it meant she got her own share of treats. Alfendi, for once, didn’t argue.      

He was content to dress as a vampire rather than some nightmarish movie villain. Kat went as a literal cat, complete with a tail, a cute red bow and bag of garlic to chuck at Alfendi. Emmy was Batwoman.

They all made it home safe and stuffed with sweets. Flora phoned at ten to check on them and to let them know she was staying at Kuri’s flat.

“Enjoy yourself,” Emmy chimed over the phone. Hopefully, Flora’s creepy doll makeup would hide her flushed face from Kuri.

In the following days, Alfendi knew Flora was hiding something, though he didn’t pry.

As soon as the holiday was over, he withdrew to his room. Halloween couldn’t cure the bitterness that had been festering inside him like a pumpkin left to rot.

Flora would take Kat out whenever Alfendi started shouting at their dad. (“WHY DO YOU KEEP VISITING HIM?”)

Bonfire night was the worst.

They had arranged to see the fireworks at Gressenheller. Flora had arrived at the house to find the professor comforting a tearful Kat. Alfendi had snapped at Kat when she kept asking why he wasn’t coming with them.

The professor had tried talking to Alfendi, tried getting him to talk to someone, to no avail. Flora told the professor to go on ahead with Kat. She could handle this.

When she tapped on Alfendi’s door ten minutes later, he barked, “Eff off—!”

“It’s me.”

Silence. Flora waited. She heard a firework explode outside. Then, a smothered whimper from Alfendi.

“Al...” she said softly. “I’m coming in, okay?”

Alfendi didn’t turn her away. She opened the door. Since Flora had moved out, Alfendi had claimed the biggest bedroom. (It stank of coffee now…) She used to tease Alfendi about how he was always holed up in his ‘cave’, but his ‘cave’ was the tidiest area in the house, as opposed to Kat’s toy-strewn room or the professor’s office. It was also very well-lit for a ‘cave’; the ceiling light, the lava lamp and his computer screen were all on.  

Alfendi had been lying facedown in his purple beanbag. He sat up awkwardly and Flora saw he was wearing a pair of fluffy white earmuffs.

His eyes were red and his nose was running. Sniffing, he took the earmuffs off and tossed them at Flora. “Can you give these back to Kat?”

Another explosion went off. Alfendi flinched.

She nudged the earmuffs back to him. “You can keep them for now. I’m sure Kat won’t mind.”

“Is she ok?”

“She’ll cheer up when she sees the fireworks.”

He put the earmuffs back on, clamping his hands over them until the next firework had passed. “Weren’t you going with them?” he asked eventually.

The plan had been to meet Kuri there. Flora was going to introduce her to the professor and Kat.

But Flora shook her head at Alfendi. (Kuri would understand— she had practically raised her twin brothers.) “Nope,” she said. “I think The Muppet Movie is on... Want to watch it with me?”

The two of them curled up on the settee and she put the T.V. volume on full-blast. It was so loud that the professor, Kat and Kuri heard The Rainbow Connection on their way home.

Per usual, Alfendi didn’t join them for coffee but he said he would pop over to Flora’s after work. That was... sociable of him.

Kat thought it had something to do with his new assistant, Lucy. Frantically, Flora phoned Kuri and asked her to tidy the living room because Alfendi might be bringing a friend with him. Kuri made no such promises but she would made plenty of stew.

Flora thanked her, hung up and informed Kat they were having stew for dinner.

Kat squinted at Flora over her Pumpkin Spice Latte. “Are you quite sure your wife isn’t a witch?”

Flora chuckled, “Why would you think that?”

This was the question Kat had been hoping for. She launched into a retelling of ‘Katrielle and the Witch Wife’. That spark in her eyes, her exaggerated gestures, the way she took bites out of her chocolate muffin in-between... She looked so much like Luke. Flora remembered him describing his own encounter with a ‘witch’— back when he first met Professor Layton.

That part of their lives, much like Autumn, had ended too quickly. Now, some days, it felt like they were caught in an eternal Winter. The professor was gone, along with Luke. Alfendi was more distant than ever...

But she still had Kat.

Story complete, Kat leapt to her feet. There was a pair of fluffy boots in the autumn sale she wanted to buy. Of course, she secretly hoped Flora would buy them for her. Flora was happy to oblige, because that’s what big sisters do.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 18)

About a week since she had brought TyLee over and her mother was still refusing to talk to her. “You decided to leave your brother home all. Alone. To talk to your friend!” The dramatic way she had tossed her hands into the air did little to ease the tension. “I know you don’t think far beyond yourself, young lady, but this is unacceptable. You knew how important that dinner was to your father. We were almost late because of you. We ended up having to leave Tom-Tom…” Mai ended up tuning her out entirely from there. The woman had been lecturing her on selfishness and in that same spiel, admitted her own self-interest. If Tom-Tom’s well-being had matter that much, they would have skipped the dinner.

But no. Because they were the parents and she was the daughter, the blame lie with her. And TyLee hasn’t talked to her since. She couldn’t blame TyLee. Her mother had the audacity to phone TyLee’s parents and so the girl was also in trouble.

And that was her fault too.

 She had put all of her soul into not taking things out on Tom-Tom, but the more her mom spoke and chastised. The more Mai wished that the boy had never been born at all. She was a burden to her parents and Tom-Tom was a burden to her.

And he was still a burden because Mai had to watch him after school that day. She had to watch him the day after that as well and, for her crime, she wasn’t allowed company either. She was barred from Chan’s Halloween party too. This particularly vexed her; Halloween was the one time of the year she actually rather enjoyed. It was prime shopping season for her wardrobe, and she hadn’t even had the chance to do so once that season.

 She was beginning to think she should just stop trying to enjoy things at all. The less she liked, the less there was to lose. Halloween was a children’s holiday anyways. And it wasn’t the same now that she TyLee and Azula didn’t dress up together. Just to torture herself a little more, she opened her phone and browsed old pictures. The first was very, very old; her first Halloween with the two girls. She had been a ladybug, TyLee was a bee, and Azula was a praying mantis of all things. They each held their little pumpkin buckets staring at the camera with cubby baby faces and the kind of adorably wide smiles that only children could muster. She swiped a few times to something more recent. The Halloween party from two years ago; TyLee was a zombie cheerleader, flashing a peace sign at the camera, somehow managing to hold her pom poms at the same time. Azula’s costume was handcrafted and model after her zodiac sign; complete with full body paint and dashes of glitter and a pair of elaborate wings. She had gone all out that year and won the costume competition. Zuko was in this one too; his was also handmade—he had gone the vampire route but with a steampunk twist. And Mai. She was just Mai. Blah, Mai, with a generic vampire costume. Granted it suited her style well but she wished that she had the ambition to create something original.

It would seem that she wouldn’t be getting her chance.

 She swiped again. God, they were so happy. There was always a touch of pain in Zuko’s eyes but at least he was there. And at least he was having a good time for the moment. Another swipe and she had to hold back tears, she wondered where it had gone wrong. How she had let both Azula and TyLee distance themselves.

Indeed, that was somehow her fault too.

 .oOo.

 Toph didn’t like the look of the place at all—not that she could see it very well through swollen, stinging eyes. But her condition was getting worse and her parents were getting desperate. And so she found herself in the waiting room of the shadiest looking eye doctor she had ever not heard of. She holds her focused on her phone as hard as possible and found the voice command button. Not bothering to keep her voice low she said, “Twinkle Toes, ya gotta help me, this is sketchier than Zhao telling us that our math tests only ask questions about what we learned in class.”

 Lao hushed her. “You have to keep your voice down, this man is going to help fix your eyes and then you’ll be able to get back to school and soccer. And he’s doing it for a deal!”

 “But he won’t help us if you keep saying things like that, dear.” Poppy added.

 Toph folded her arms over her chest. “Stop calling me that!” She grumbled. She had a feeling that this doctor dude would see her regardless of her words, he just wanted to make a quick buck and she didn’t want to be his lab rat.

 “Doctor Warui Kōkei, will see you now.”

 “To bad I won’t see him.” Toph huffed. She had earned herself more hushing from both parents.

 But the nurse chuckled, “well hopefully we can fix that, yes?”

 The nurse seemed nice enough, but Toph was still skeptical. Maybe it was the crumbling and faded wallpaper or maybe it was the scuffed and creaking floorboards. It could have been the crying child or the broken clock. Whatever it was, Toph had the most foreboding feeling.

Not that her parents would take that opinion into account.

 .oOo.

 “Have you heard anything about BeiFong?” Mai asked Smellerbee. It had been a bitch to track the girl down in the after school rush, so she better have an answer.

 “What do you care for?” The girl returned with a question of her own. “I have a bus to catch.”

 “And I have a question that needs an answer. BeiFong is on your soccer team, have you heard any news.”

 Smellerbee rolled her eyes. “Sure. Her parents are taking her to some eye doctor no one has ever heard of. If he does then I won’t have to worry about her taking my place as team captain.”

 “I’m sure you will.” Mai stated plainly. She sure hoped that the surgery, or whatever the treatment was, would go well. She watched Smellerbee stop towards her bus, leaving her to wonder if literally everyone attending Wan High—save for Aang—were in endless states of sour moods.

 She knew that she was and that it was about to get worse.

 Years ago, Tom-Tom running up to her screaming, “Maaaaaaai!” And then jumping into a hug would have turned her day around. That day each syllable was a crescendo off annoyance and his body colliding with hers, was a detonator. It was a silent explosion, but an explosion no less. “Get off, Tom, I’ve got homework to do. Sit down and watch TV or something.”

 He looked at her with innocent eyes, “I’m hungry though, Mai. Really, really hungry. We can go to the kitchen and play animal crackers!”

 It was almost enough to break the resentment. Almost. But this time she wanted to hold onto and relish in her anger, even if she would only keep it within. On the outside she remained cold. “I don’t have time for animal crackers. Stop playing with your food and just eat it.” She found herself a seat on the sofa and watched him teeter off towards the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

 She pulled out her phone, Azula’s number still remained in her contacts and for a moment she considered giving it a call. But she recalled the girl saying that she had other goth girls to talk to, the though left her bitter so she scrapped that idea, swapping it out for a worse one.

 She dialed Zuko’s phone.

Again her message went to voice mail and she was furious. Of all the times he had called her during his slumps…she had always picked up, even if it was to yell and argue. And now he had the audacity to ignore her completely? She really had been nothing more than a person to weep to after his father whopped his druggy ass a good one.

 She very nearly threw the phone, when a text appeared on her screen.

She dared to hope that it was TyLee or Zuko. Instead an ugly message scrawled itself across the screen, with an even uglier photo.  It took a lot to invoke a physical response, but the phone fell from her hands which came to cover her mouth. The phone fell face up so a glance down could send chills down her spine all over again.

 It was bloody, the image. She couldn’t tell exactly what had happened to Toph’s eyes, but they were bleeding. And she was screaming, her face twisted and contorted in pain. Her hands seemed to claw at her seat as her mother held her close.

 She didn’t recognize the sender’s number, but the message was clear and cutting.

 “I hope you’re happy.”

[vaguely-concerned]

PG-13, Hanzo Shimada/Jesse McCree, 1500 words, unmitigated fluff

On ao3

When they got back to their room they both collapsed face first on the bed as if by mutual agreement, still fully dressed except for their shoes and too full and contented to do much in the way of moving for a while. The music from the party could still be heard through the open window — Hanzo reached out and pulled Jesse close to him, wrapping himself around him when he made a pleased sound and snuggled up against his chest. Despite having had barely anything to drink this time he felt unwound and unconcerned with anything that wasn’t Jesse breathing peacefully under his hands. He vaguely wanted to hum.

“Damn, Reinhardt’s got some moves,” Jesse said eventually, into Hanzo’s collar bone.

Hanzo grunted in agreement. “I have never seen anyone simply pick up the punch bowl and drink it all in one go before.”

“I was thinkin’ about the dancing, but that’s fair too. Guess I’m just used to it, he always does that when he’s had a few already and gets impatient.”

“Ah. So that was how you knew to sneak an extra glass of it right away.”

“Suppose I should’ve warned you, sorry. Just old habit at this point.”

“No need for apologies, you shared it with me.”

Jesse offered a conceding noise and rubbed his face against Hanzo’s shoulder like he was scratching an itch on his nose. “That’s how you know it’s love. Not like Torbjörn doesn’t mix it strong enough that you could clean brass with the stuff anyway, good bang for your buck there,” he added, trying to push up on his elbows and making a confused face as he somehow managed to get several limbs entangled in the bedclothes. In his attempts to extricate himself he only got further trapped.

“Well,” he said eventually, squinting down at the cocoon he’d made of himself.

Shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter Hanzo managed: “Let me help you with that before you hurt yourself.”

Or tear the sheets again, he added to himself as he untangled his hapless partner from a duvet cover. For the most part Jesse had impressive control over the prosthetic hand and how much pressure to apply with it, but every now and then if he was distracted or tired enough he’d forget himself and then you had a pillowcase to mend. Hanzo might have only touched barely tipsy tonight, but he didn’t trust himself to get anything straight right now, back stitches included.

“...thanks,” Jesse said when Hanzo got him safely free and pulled him half on top of him. “See, this was more how I meant for that to go.” He nuzzled into the curve of Hanzo’s neck, then stopped when Hanzo squirmed minutely. “Tickly?”

“No,” Hanzo lied, then made a strangled sound when Jesse immediately called his bluff and did it again with a satisfied ‘hah!’. “Fine, fine, that tickles, it’s the beard, now stop it before I — gah!”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to be makin’ threats, Mr. Shimada.”

In retaliation Hanzo decided to pull out the big guns. “Big words from a man who is reduced to incoherence if someone as much as breathes against his ribs,” he said, and Jesse squawked as Hanzo used his years of experience to tickle him into submission. “I could do this all day. The expression ‘hoisted by your own petard’ comes to — oof — mind.”  They wrestled on the bed for a while, rendering the sheets even more of a disaster, Jesse’s laugh hanging bright under the ceiling as he tried to fend Hanzo off.

“Truce,” Jesse wheezed eventually, pawing weakly at Hanzo’s hands. His face was pink with laughter. “Truce, I got my medicine, I’ll probably never do it again until the temptation inevitably overwhelms me, promise.”

Hanzo placed a peck to Jesse’s brow and lay down next to him again, rather pleased with himself. “This was poor strategic thinking on your part. You have always been far more ticklish than I am; you are meant to pick the battles that flatter your weaknesses, not the ones that directly target them.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Sun Tzu. Thought I’d found a new opening and got cocky,” Jesse sighed mournfully, taking Hanzo’s hand in his and playing with it, twining their fingers together. “Pride before the fall and all that. You’re real sweet when you get all competitive, though, so arguably I win either way.”

Cuddling with Jesse when he had this kind of restless energy was like wrangling an affectionate if somewhat uncoordinated puppy; Hanzo found he was unable to stop himself from kissing him, smiling against his mouth when he perked up and parted his lips in welcome.  

He went easily when Jesse shifted them so Hanzo ended up on his back with Jesse hovering over him, their legs tangling as they made out — it felt bright and warm and oddly chaste, trading touches back and forth until everything flowed into a background hum of affection.

When they broke apart Jesse blinked slowly at Hanzo’s undoubtedly flushed face and then went in for more, brushing his lips over Hanzo’s cheek, his brow, his jaw. Hanzo closed his eyes and turned into it, Jesse’s hair soft and wild under his fingers.

“I like this,” Jesse mumbled, nosing at Hanzo’s temple.

Hanzo paused where he’d been stroking through Jesse’s hair. “Hm?”

“The touch of gray. You look distinguished these days,” Jesse said, scattering kisses along his hairline. “Suits you.”

“Is this your circuitous way of saying I look old?” Hanzo laughed, running his hand down to the small of Jesse’s back where his t-shirt was riding up and gathering him in closer.

“Silver fox,” Jesse insisted. He pushed up on an elbow and gazed down at Hanzo, touching the fingers of his left hand very gently to his mouth. Hanzo smiled against the metal.

“Can I get a quote on that?” he asked. “I should put it on my resume.”

“Sure, I stand by that. I’ll tell anyone who cares to know.” Jesse started unbuttoning Hanzo’s shirt, leaning down to place a kiss to the dip between his collarbones as he did.

Resting one hand under his head on the pillow Hanzo watched with some amusement as Jesse encountered more of an obstacle further on in the process.

“Fuckin’ buttons,” Jesse murmured. “How come they make ‘em so small and slippery and — nrgh.”

“Should I do it?”

“Nah, don’t worry, I got this, just lemme…”

Hanzo lay back with a grin and let Jesse conduct his mildly inebriated work uninterrupted, only moving to shrug the shirt all the way off when Jesse finished with the buttons and tugged at it.

“That’s more like it,” Jesse crowed, stroking a hand down Hanzo’s newly bared torso. “Injustice righted.”

“Huh. I had no idea my shirt had even been on trial.”

“‘S consistently been your most glaring fault, the way you’re always wearin’ too many clothes when I need to kiss you all over,” Jesse said, unselfconsciously burying his face in Hanzo’s chest. Hanzo sank his fingers into Jesse’s hair again.

“I can only apologize and promise to do better in the future.”

Jesse chuckled — soft lips closed over a nipple and Hanzo shuddered, cradling Jesse’s head closer to him. Jesse pulled back for long enough to mumble: “I’m willing to go full cheerleader for this cause. Anythin’ I can do to help, just give the word and I’ll be there, pom poms and all .”

“Such magnanimity,” Hanzo drawled, shifting into it as Jesse kissed a slow, cherishing path over his chest. Jesse held him close by an open hand resting in the middle of his back, making small happy noises as he trailed his lips over Hanzo’s skin, seeking out the sweet spots and dwelling lovingly over each. “Mmmh. Jesse.”

As Jesse lavished some attention on his other nipple as if to ensure it didn’t feel left out Hanzo bit his lip and arched into the warm yielding touch of his mouth. Jesse kept going until every inch of his skin was tingling blissfully with kisses, pausing only when Hanzo stilled his head with a touch. 

“I needed to — come here,” Hanzo said, guiding Jesse’s face up to him so he could slide their lips together. The kiss turned out a lot less chaste this time and Hanzo’s fingers tightened possessively in Jesse’s hair; Jesse melted against him and made a sound in his nose that set something in Hanzo’s gut joyously ablaze. When Jesse wrapped his arms around his waist and lay back he pulled Hanzo with him, draping him on top of himself.

“I have heard rumors that you possess some moves yourself, Mr. McCree,” Hanzo said, his hand meandering down to the buckle on Jesse’s belt. “I think I might enjoy a demonstration.”

The belt buckle opened with a practiced flick of his thumb and Jesse grinned into the kiss and captured his mouth again, holding him close enough that Hanzo imagined he could feel Jesse’s heartbeat in his own chest.  

 Nebulously set in the Scoundrels and Thieves ‘verse, which you can find here!