#like her face was moving and expressive and then the line delivery was so flat

[clamsjams]

started mia and me season 2 and im not rlly impressed so far. i am only on episode 3 so maybe it gets better soon?

i promise its not just abt the fact that the voice actors are different although i am disappointed bc i feel like their voices from before fit them rlly well (esp yukos) but i get that these things happen sometimes

but like idk a lot of the dialogue just feels so stilted and flat? and like don’t get me wrong the 1st season def had some awkward moments and cheesy lines but it’s just so much worse now, and probs more noticeable bc a lot of the line delivery has like barely any emotion

and another thing that bugs me is that the voices just feel out of place? i can’t put my finger on what it is exactly, like maybe the balance of the audio is off or something? but any time the characters speak it just sounds like it doesn’t fit with the rest of the audio

also there’s definitely parts where the dubbed audio just doesn’t fit with the mouth movements of the characters which also throws me off

i have issues with some other stuff but i’ll make a separate post for that

[lookingforcactus]

Live action Yu Yu Hakusho liveblog (ep 2)

Okay listen. Whoever wrote and whoever is voicing the little kid Yusuke saves has never heard an actual six year old talk in their lives

Also forgot to say last ep but liked the move to age yusuke up a bit. Also Botan's digital file of Yusuke talking back at her is hilarious

Botan's voice (Eng dub) isn't quiiiite as expressive as would hit the mark for me compared to the anime but whatever she's adorable I forgive her

Also forgot to say last ep "Maybe it's better you're dead" BOTAN STOP ASDLKFJADS I love her your honor

Fights and vfx on Goki are actually kind of shockingly good, esp given how much I Did Not like him in the anime

VERY annoying and unfortunately typical that the darkest-skinned guy we've seen so far is. very specifically. the demon that eats children and that the anime makes uh iirc a lot more directly than I ever wanted to watch into a Certain Allegory

Interested that Reikai doesn't seem to know who Kurama actually is. Was that the case in the anime/manga?? I feel like no, they knew who he used to be from the initial briefing on the thieves but idk season 1 wasn't exactly my favorite to go back and rewatch literally ever

My favorite was 2 and 4. If you even care. lol

Kurama standing there during the fight like a creeper go

Actually fight with Goki is very epic. Again super creative and impressively believable way for Yusuke to survive and fight back against a guy with WAYYYY superior strength

Also wow is Yusuke underqualified for these fights rn lol. I mean we knew that but he's lucky he pulled that one out in the end. And esp lucky that Kurama won't want to fight, obv

YUKINA

Her wig is sadly Not as impressive as Botan's, and I'm not a fan of what looks like her contacts. Did they make her eyes green??? Bc her eyes being red is kind of narratively. you know. Relevant

Wait is that guy helping Yukina Hiei???!!! Human-form Hiei??!!!

Wait no of course not Hiei would've just killed everyone and gotten her out

(Listen we don't have any good shots of his face yet okay. That little sister line made me think!)

Interesting new jagan origin + (presumably?) moving up Yukina as Hiei's motivation. Makes sense given how everything about Hiei's first manga/anime appearance was ignored afterward lol when he was too popular to kill off

I hope they got rid of his original plan/motivation, anyway. I hated the mind control arc thing with him esp on Keiko. Dickhead

Well. Eyehead. Technically. But yknow

Pfft Kurama 100% staging that entire encounter and stalking ep meaning Yusuke thinks he's being sooo sneaky

Kurama's outfit is really pretty actually btw. I like it better than his anime outfit by a lot. The pink always clashed with his hair sooo bad

Also the pink in the preview images made me think/hope he was a girl (who actually got to fight in a shounen anime!!!!) and you have no idea how disappointed I was when I realized that wasn't true

Pfft Kurama using his demon powers to?? Pull a quickchange?? Amazing

His hair continues to not work nearly as well as in the anime but that was a lost battle from the beginning let's be real. At least it's better than Hiei's

(Which is so actively bad what was that shadow with his hair in the knife scene what)

Shiori benefits a lot from being played by like. an actually human person who also is older and has visibly aged. Gives her Character, makes her less of Just An Archetype

Momma's boy Kurama excellent as always. Meanwhile Yusuke's just flat out not replying to a single thing Shiori is literally saying to him lol

Wait does the quickchange imply that Kurama only uses that outfit on demon business. Bc in the show it's just his (ugly) school uniform but here it's clearly not. I really desperately want that to be his On Demon Business outfit in this show lol

Also makes the fact that he had Yusuke stalk him in that outfit funnier. then. boom. quickchange. Mom can't see the Demon Business Outfit

Hmm something about Kurama and his delivery isn't rly landing for me here. But to be fair he is being super Performative and Deliberate about all of this so that may be on purpose

I hope it's on purpose. Bc Kurama's great and I'd REALLY like to buy him/his lines as a character in this

He does successfully pull off "casually menacing" (you know, without murdering someone first) much more easily than his anime counterpart tho so that's cool

Meanwhile, Yusuke's face. Great face-acting there. Also great face

The scrapes on Yusuke's face really are v aesthetically arranged lol. but still look legit enough. I'm a fan

Okay I'm buying Kurama now. Excellent

"I've been deceiving that woman for many years" genuinely love that he put it that way. He's come to care about her so much but he's not trying to make himself sound better or lying to himself about the situation

It is killing me that he used the phrase "fertilized egg" in this explanation. It's killing me. It's also raising Fucking Questions. (But does at least give an explanation for how Kurama didn't like. Kill the original Shuichi's soul when he took the body.)

Oh the pattern on Kurama's outfit is roses!!! love it

Kurama: Sees Kuwabara following them

Kurama: ...Anyway.

The mirror of darkness looks like a fucking ipad. I can't take it seriously why does the mirror of darkness look like an ipad!!!

IT DOESN'T EVEN REFLECT ANYTHING

What's with the weird scifi aesthetics here and on the other artifacts? This is a fantasy show, fantasy aesthetics would fit better

The mirror-realm life-taking sequence is just. so much. lol it's so much once again I am unable to take it seriously!

Wait Shiori! You don't know there was magic saving you!! Don't take off your oxygen mask without a doctor's permission!!! Practice self-care!!!

Okay Kuwabara looks super different from his anime/manga self-from the front, but from the back he has the EXACT same silhouette as anime!Kuwabara, so much it's EERIE. I'm learning lots of things about what pompadours look like in real life-

hsb, ig???

HIEI HAS BLUE EYES?!!??!?!?!!!!

I mean at least they didn't only change Yukina's

But this is WEIRD

Also making the jagan not purple anymore, just an actual third eye, was the correct choice

Hmm I don't like how they translated Hiei's outfit as much as I do the others. (I like how they translated literally everyone else's outfits. This is so disappointing, esp since Hiei's aesthetics go off. There's too much white and too much detail in his outfits. Give me his cloak!!! Also changing the scarf into a turtleneck is highkey Not Working For Me

Anime!Hiei would literally never wear a turtleneck

Why is he wearing a turtleneck, he's a FIRE DEMON, it's not like he can get cold

The scarf is okay because it was clearly not primarily for keeping him warm

Give him the cloak I want the cloak!!

And he should be wearing all black underneath it! I mean I know he wears other color shirts under it in the dark tournament arc iirc. But live action won't have the control over the cloak for that lol

At least give him something all black (except the scarf or something similar) (NOT a turtleneck) with a similar silhouette to the cloak

And idk compared to the others I think his costume looks kinda cheap

OOF effects on the Toguros are NOT convincing. Oof. I admire their commitment to taking their physicalities literally but uh. They should've been less ambitious and focused more on translating the vibe. Imho

Okay! Time for episode 3!

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂａｃｋ Ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ (Ｓａｍ Ｗｉｌｓｏｎ ｘ Ｆ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)

📎Word Count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.

Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”

“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.

The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.

Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.

Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.

“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”

“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”

Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.

Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.

“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”

Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”

“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.

“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.

“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”

Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”

You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”

Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”

A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”

He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”

You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”

You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.

“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”

“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.

“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”

He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.” 

A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”

Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”

The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!

“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.

“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”

Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”

The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?

The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.

Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.

“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”

This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.

The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.

You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.

Oh shit, he is in love with you.

Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.

“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.

The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”

A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.

Ah, fuck.

Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.

As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.

“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”

In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.

You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.

“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.

He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.

“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”

Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”

“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation. 

“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.

“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”

After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”

Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”

“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”

Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.

“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”

A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”

The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.

“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.

“I’d love that, Sam.”

The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

You were anxious, but you couldn’t describe exactly why. Was it as narrowed down to Ran and Yixing simply interacting? The two worlds colliding? Or was it as broad as the fact that Yixing was stepping into your apartment?

The place wasn’t dirty. Both you and Ran were diligent on keeping on top of the dishes and dusting. You weren’t necessarily the “make your bed everyday” type, but it wasn’t too much of a jumble of sheets. There were no leftovers out on the counter or crusted plates in the sink. The air smelled of artificial citrus thanks to the plug-in that Ran kept up with on a steady rotation.

Ran ushered everyone in and then closed the door with no concern of a noise level. “Pizza should be here any minute.” The only responses she received were silent nods.

It was awkward as the three of you stood around, no one talking, no one moving towards the available seating in the living room. Ran often brought friends over and they naturally made themselves at home. Whenever Victoria or Amber were in town, you met up with them at coffee shops or restaurants serving brunch. Your apartment was not a typical place to congregate. It was your sanctuary, the place you went to in order to get away. Now the outside world was coming in and you weren’t sure what to do.

“Yixing, you want a drink?” Ran offered.

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Ran shot you a very pointed look before whisking off to the kitchen. Yixing’s eyes roamed over the mostly empty walls. Neither you nor Ran were good with tools so ramming a nail into plaster didn’t seem like a logical way to spend an afternoon. Any decorating done to give the apartment a homey feel was done on the side and coffee tables. Ran’s novels were stacked in with your medical textbooks for easy reaching. Picture frames containing silly faces and fond memories sat on top of the wooden surfaces. Your favorite was the one of you and your aunt mid laugh, soaking wet from the water ride that had splashed from behind. Wherever you went, that picture went too. Yixing found it after a few seconds, walking over to it like in a trance. He picked up the cheap, plastic black frame with a gentle hand. A dimple made an appearance in his right cheek as he studied the photo.

“You look like you had fun.”

A small laugh pushed out as the memories of that trip flashed through your mind like a PowerPoint. Lost chargers, multiple changes of clothes from water rides and dropped ice creams, and dozens of wrong turns to get to the right ride. Neither you nor your aunt were good at working the app made for the amusement park, but that only added to the adventure.

“We did,” you replied. “That was right before my freshman year here. One last hurrah before moving on to adulthood.” That was what your aunt had said, anyway, though both of you knew she meant it sarcastically. She didn’t believe in full adulthood. A little bit of childishness was necessary to live life to the fullest – a concept that you couldn’t quite fully understand in words but could when you were looking at her. Yixing nodded, the smile growing by a few centimeters as he set the frame down again. Ran entered from the kitchen and handed him a steaming mug of fresh tea. You nearly hid your face in your shirt when you noticed which cup Ran had chosen or the gesture of a gracious host.

Little chibi figures depicting characters from your favorite drama danced around the porcelain mug. It was cute in your eyes when you’d ordered it from the online shop. Now, it was mortifying. You just hoped that Yixing assumed that it was Ran’s and that Ran didn’t mention anything to the contrary.

“Thank you.” Yixing blew on the steam that danced from the caramel colored liquid and took a sip small enough for a mouse. Still, no one sat. Ran glanced at you with a curious expression. If she was telling you to do something, you weren’t able to pick up on what that thing might be. Miraculously, you were saved by the door knock.

Ran shuffled over to the door to answer it. Yixing leaned down and placed the mug on the coffee table and that’s when it hit you.

He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him into your bedroom while Ran was distracted with the delivery guy. You let go of Yixing and started rifling through your closet for a more unisex shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked right behind you.

You jumped at his sudden closeness but didn’t look behind you. “You’re still just wearing the jacket. When Ran notices, she’ll start asking questions.” Your fingers landed on an old band t-shirt that you hadn’t worn in a while. The black was a neutral color and most of the wording was faded. You doubt Ran would recognize it. “Here. Put this on.”

Seemingly laughing at you in his head, Yixing smiled and unzipped his jacket.

The first time you’d seen him shirtless, you were too distracted by the hiker to take real notice. Now that he was the only one around and standing in your bedroom… heat exploded all over your body. And the jerk seemed to notice as he took his time to take off the jacket and push his head through the shirt. You scurried around him and poked your head out of your room just in time to see Ran hand over the tip, closing the door with the pizza boxes in hand.

“Smells good,” Yixing commented as he snuck up behind you once again. He really needed to stop doing that.

“And its still warm, too,” Ran cooed, having heard him. She took a long whiff. You couldn’t help but take one, too. Delicious. Your mouth was already swimming when you sat down at the table. You didn’t even remember telling your feet to move. Ran grabbed plates from the cabinet before flipping open the lids, engulfing the apartment with that familiar scent. “Bon appetite!”

“Thank you for dinner,” Yixing said again. He was always so polite. It was endearing. So much so that you had paused midbite and started staring at him with a grin of your own pulling at your lips’ corners.

Ran chewed through a mouthful before answering. “No problem. You just have really good timing.”

A silence that you couldn’t quite call comfortable settled over the meal. You thought over and over of what you could say to continue a conversation, but all options fell flat. The consequence of that? Ran jumping in.

“So, Yixing, how do you know (y/n)?”

“We have class together,” he explained, not bothered at all by the questionnaire he was about to receive. Or he was simply unaware that this might only be the beginning.

“Which one?”

“Human physiology.”

Ran’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that just combined? So, did you have the other professor?”

Yixing nodded solemnly. “I did.” Though there were still several bites left of his current slice, he put it down and folded his fingers with his elbows resting on the table. “She was a good teacher.”

“That’s what I heard a lot,” Ran agreed. “It’s scary what’s going on. You never know who’s going to be next. I heard that there might have been another attack today.”

You looked at Yixing thinking that he would do the same given your shared knowledge that there was indeed another attack, but he didn’t turn his head in the slightest. He kept staring at the table. You knew this was bothering him. It was written in every facet of his posture and face. But Ran didn’t seem to notice.

“I think they should send the rangers out and put down the animal. I mean, I hate to kill anything that is just living its life, but there’s obviously something wrong with it. Like it went mad or something. Putting it out of its misery might be—”

“Ran, do you have plans tonight?” you jumped in.

Ran blinked as her mind quickly changed gears. “Yeah. Hae In is picking me up in a few minutes and we’re going to go out. You two are welcome to join us.”

“That’s okay,” you answered for both of you. “Thanks, though.”

Ran grinned cheekily. “I kind of figured.”

A quick succession of knocks rattled from the front door. Ran leapt up and ushered her friend inside.

Hae In, a girl whose personality was as bright as her blonde hair, waved excitedly at you and Yixing. “Hey! Ooo, that looks good!” She was quickly distracted by the pizza, grabbing a slice as soon as Ran gave her the okay. She swallowed down a few bites. “I’m Hae In, by the way,” she said to Yixing. “Are you (y/n)’s friend?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, a bit his previous light coming back. “I’m Yixing.” Standing up, he held out his hand for her to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Hae In shook his hand after wiping the grease off on an unused napkin.

“We should probably get going,” Ran suggested. “You know Marnie will take forever and we want to get there before they start charging covers.”

“No kidding,” Hae In giggled. She waved goodbye and followed Ran out the door.

Yixing turned to you. “They seemed nice.”

“They are,” you nodded as you stood to your feet and started clearing the table of the dirty dishes. Yixing was soon on his own feet, helping by moving all the leftover pizza into one box and then closing the lid so it could fit in the fridge. You rinsed off the plates, the water plashing all over the counter. After a quick clean up, you put the plates in the dishwasher. Yixing had moved on to the living room. He was seated on the couch, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs and looking deep in thought. You sat down beside him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said none-too-convincingly. He sat up so he was now sitting back into the couch. “I’m okay. It’s just been… a day.”

You snorted. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

He didn’t respond to what you had said. He changed the subject in a sharp turn. “This shirt’s comfortable.”

You frowned, confused. “Yeah, its old so its been washed a few times. But it was soft like that when I bought it.” What were you even saying? Why were the two of you talking about your shirt? Honestly, you wanted to forget for a second that he was wearing your clothes at all. Because then you mind drifted to what was underneath the cloth.

“I think I’ve heard of this band,” Yixing said as he tugged on the front where the members were proudly displayed in a tough-guy fashion. There were a few breaks in the plastic-y photo that split some of the faces at odd angles. “They’re a pop group, right?”

You cleared your throat as you shifted in your seat. “Yeah. I guess you could call them that.” Why were you suddenly dying of humiliation? Why should you have any anxiety over what music you liked? One fear might have been that he was one of those people who looked down on others for liking such “shallow music.” You never thought the group in that way. If the vocals were good, who cared if the songs were mostly about love? “I like them anyway.”

To your surprise, Yixing was smiling. “I like them, too.”

In your heart, you were sure he was saying something else. Implying someone else that he really liked.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Because… well, you were realizing that you liked him. Very much. More than a friend. You liked Yixing. And you wanted him to like you, too. While you weren’t a mind reader, you thought that maybe there was a chance that he already did.

Going with the second thought that popped into your head, you looked at him shyly. “Thanks for coming along when you did, by the way. I don’t think I would have been to get him help in time if you hadn’t.”

Instead of returning your soft expression, Yixing remained stoic. He reached out and touched your cheek with the tips of his fingers. They were warm against your skin – No, not warm. Even with the minimal contact, you could feel the fire. It felt like a constant wave of sunshine pulsing into your skin. By sheer instinct, you leaned in deeper to his touch. That was encouragement enough for him to shift so now his palm was against your cheek. The reaction to pull away coursed in your mind, but you couldn’t bring it to fruition. If it had been anyone else, you would have been up and off that couch, putting plenty of room between you and them. But with Yixing… you simply wanted to move closer.

And someone did.

You weren’t sure if it was you or him – your money would have been on a mutual understanding, an equal pull that shifted both of you like magnets. But there was no gnashing of teeth or crumpling of shirts. It was a softer collision. A hesitant one. Your hands dug into the cushion to force you not to move as his lips brushed against yours. When he pressed more, his other hand came up and pulled you in closer by your hip. You didn’t resist, encompassing the space that was his lap.

That fire – that heat and warmth like a log alite on a winter’s day – was everywhere now. But just as it was growing, it was also drifting farther back in your mind. Yixing’s presence, his touch, was consuming your thoughts. You were not the kind of person who did this. You shied away from intimate moments like this. The weeks you had known Yixing were short, but that felt like a detail of little consequence. You believed yourself safe in his embrace.

The kiss ended abruptly. With hands that were simultaneously harsh and gentle, Yixing removed you from his lap, placing you on the cushion beside him. He gave no explanation for his sudden switch in direction. You weren’t sure what for, but the urge to apologize was swelling up, like you were the only one who had crossed a line.

“I’m… sorry.”

Yixing rubbed his eyes, releasing a sigh. “No. Don’t be. I just… I need to figure some things out first.”

“Some… things?” Was he… already seeing someone else? That’s what that usually meant, right? In all this time, he had never mentioned having a girlfriend. He wouldn’t have let you borrow his jacket if there was a chance that another girl might see it. Unless— unless she didn’t go to the university in town and they were in a long-distance relationship? The more you thought about it, the more your stomach was beginning to churn.

“I know that’s— What I mean is—” With another heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he stood to his feet. Not looking at you, he concluded, “I should… probably go.”

You were in state of confusion and sadness as he hurried out the door. Your eyes stayed trained on the last space that he had occupied. This was exactly why you didn’t do things like this. No moment of bliss was worth the terrible heartache that was always doomed to follow. Bringing your feet up on the couch, you made yourself as small as possible. Minutes went by. You weren’t sure why you didn’t move. Was there some stupid part of you that was waiting for him to come back through the door? Things like that only happened in the movies or a teen novel. As if to prove yourself wrong for why you were still in that spot, you peeled yourself up and walked into your room.

Laying there on your bed, folded like a store window display, was the jacket. Divided more than ever, you continued to stand in your doorway and stare at the last remaining evidence of Yixing’s presence.

**

As soon as he was outside, Yixing whirled and threw his fist into the grimy brick. Shaking out the pain, he cursed at himself under his breath. Stupid. He didn’t lash out like this. It wasn’t the right way to work out his anger. Even if it was towards himself.

The wolf both cheered at the line he’d crossed and whined at the sudden retreat. Part of him knew what the outcome would be once Ran left the apartment. The right thing to do would have been to say goodbye immediately and leave. But he had you to himself and to a wolf with his mate, that was a drug that couldn’t be discarded. So, he sat down on that couch, waiting for you to join. Sitting so close, Yixing’s muscles had tightened from the restraint. And then he snapped.

The scent rolling from you was too great to resist. Besides, you were leaning in, too. You were wanting it, too. Lips so soft as they kissed him back. Minseok had been right; it was like heaven on earth.

Then his mind pulled him back to hell.

A hiker had been attacked right around the time that he had blacked out. Again. And this time, they’d lived to describe the animal that had charged on him. A gray wolf. The same color as his own fur.

He fought against the thought that it might have been him. He held on tight to the chance that it was coincidence. But if it wasn’t… he couldn’t risk you getting hurt. If he did something to cause you harm… he’d never be able to forgive himself. He needed to get a handle on this, and fast. He just hoped that you didn’t hate him for the stunt he pulled back there.

In his pocket, his phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, he pulled it out and then the gratitude scrambled away.

It was Junmyeon.

Already knowing what this call would be about, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Yixing? Where are you? I need to come back to the house for a family meeting.”

He didn’t even bother to pretend to not understand. He didn’t ask for the reason to cover his current state of mind. “Okay. I’m in town, so it’ll take me about an hour to get home.”

“We’ll wait for you.”

Exhaling as his thumb hit the red button on his phone, Yixing pushed off the wall of the building and hopped into his car. A back and forth debate carried on as he drove down the backroad. Would he tell his pack what was going on and risk being ostracized? Or did he try to do this on his own and risk everything?

[ikeromantic]

Mad Dogs

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction. This scene occurs at the start of Ch. 12 in the romantic route! Approx. 2600 words.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Keeping Secrets

Mitsuhide sat beside his little mouse, sharing space at the desk in their rooms. A packet of letters sat open in front of him, missives from Kyubei and his distant intelligence network. They were closing in on the shogun’s location. Ashikaga’s hiding spot was down to two holes he might have crawled into. Both had features to recommend them.

Nearness to reliable roads, distance from well-maintained lands. Space to accommodate his collected forces. Mitsuhide closed his eyes in thought.

“I’ll ask for some tea,” his little one said, and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I thought I was the mindreader,” he smiled. 

She laughed softly. “Another skill I learned from you, hm?”

Mitsuhide felt a burst of warmth, and would have pulled her into his arms had he not caught the soft chime of bells on the stairs below. His smile turned sharp as he stood, placing himself between the door and his beloved.

“What -” she started to ask, interrupted by the door sliding open and the sound of a harsh, wild laugh.

“Motonari works fast,” Mitsuhide muttered. “This will be our next ally.” He hoped. This meeting was an even bigger risk than Mouri had been.

He heard her whisper under her breath. “I hope we get a cleric. Someone with a lawful alignment, at least.” It was an odd thing to say, but strangely accurate, considering.

“Special delivery,” Motonari called out as he entered the room and presented the figure behind him.

“I assume you’ve called me here to perform your last rites, Mitsuhide Akechi.” Kennyo’s voice was low and smooth. Like an underground river, steadily dissolving the stone. Unstoppable, unchanging. He was as solid as ever, his wide shoulders filled the doorway. His mouth was set in a grim line, and his eyes were twin fires, giving heat but no light.

Mitsuhide met his gaze, acknowledging the shared history of violence between them. “Welcome, Abbot. I have been looking forward to this meeting.”

The chatelaine’s eyes went from Kennyo to Motonari, clearly trying to weigh the greater threat. She lingered on the monk, her eyebrows rising with a flash of recognition.

Mitsuhide wondered what she was thinking. Was it only surprise at seeing the man in person after all the rumors and stories she’d heard about the Abbot? Or did she have yet another secret she hadn’t shared with him? The need to know was a dangerous distraction and he worked to force his attention back to the immediate problem. “My dear, you should wait next door.” 

She stubbornly shook her head. “I’m staying right here.”

He wanted to argue with her but Mouri dismissed the problem of her presence. “Forget the girl, kitsune. Let’s get to business, savvy?”

Kennyo’s glare rolled from Mitsuhide to Motonari. “I am not here for business.” He pulled his prayer staff apart, revealing the slim, sharp blade hidden within. 

Mitsuhide pulled his own sword the second he caught the reflected lamplight in its metallic sheen. It was a good thing he did as he only barely managed to block the Abbot’s strike. “What a very sensible weapon.” He gave the monk a tight smile.

“I am not here to listen to you talk,” Kennyo growled. “I am here to send you to hell where you belong!” His advance was like a boulder coming down the side of a mountain. Inexorable. 

The monk brought the blunt end of his staff up. Mitsuhide caught the blow on the flat of his blade, but the force of it shivered up his arm and left him open. Open to the glistening tip of Kennyo’s sword as it swept toward his throat.

The chatelaine lurched forward, her hands flying up as if to stop the monk’s sword. 

Mitsuhide moved back and the strike that would have killed him only left a small pearl of blood at his throat. His attention wasn’t on the wound or even his near-death blow. It was on his little one, who stood awkwardly in the midst of drawn blades, her hands still extended. “Get back, now,” he shouted, his voice cracking with panic held barely in check.

If she was hurt . . . if . . . he couldn’t finish the thought. His little mouse turned her head to look at him but didn’t follow his order. Mitsuhide grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him and into a corner. With a wall on two sides, leaving him a smaller area to guard.

Kennyo’s scar pulled at his face, twisting the grim smile he now wore. “You are afraid, Akechi. Good. May your death bring a measure of peace to your victims.” The Abbot prepared for another strike. 

Motonari’s shrill laugh split the tense air. “Come on! Yer not tryin’ ta leave me outta the fun, are ya?” He pulled his sword in one hand and his pistol in the other. His grin was manic and feral as he looked between possible targets.

Mitsuhide felt sick with anxiety. Against one madman, he was sure he could keep his little one safe. Against two? And one armed with a pistol? He would need to disarm or kill Mouri first. Kennyo was a deadly opponent, but predictable. The move would leave him open to the monk, but made it less likely that his beloved would be hurt. He shifted his stance, readying himself.

“Thanks fer gettin’ the party started.” Motonari laughed again. “I was feelin’ lonely over here.”

Mitsuhide leapt at Mouri, giving the pirate no time to move into a better position. But Kennyo wasn’t going to wait for his turn. 

The Abbot stepped between Motonari and Mitsuhide, shoving the kitsune warlord back. “I will not be cheated of your death!”

Mouri struck at the monk, forcing Kennyo to turn and block his blade. 

Mitsuhide took advantage of the distraction, knocking the pistol from Motonari’s grip. The sharp edge of his sword left the skin of Mouri’s hand split open and weeping redly. He chanced a look back at his beloved. She hadn’t budged from her spot in the corner. “Run!” Mitsuhide kicked Mouri’s pistol further from him. “Run while you can!”

The pirate laughed even louder, moving as quick as an eel to dodge Kennyo and turn his aggression toward Mitsuhide. 

The chatelaine shook herself from her shock and darted around the edge of the fray. Mitsuhide felt a spike of worry but in a moment she’d reach the door, and safety. But before she was out of danger, she stopped, turned.

Mitsuhide recognized the expression on her face. Naive resolve. That stubborn streak he loved and hated. 

Instead of running, she shoved herself into the middle of the combat. “STOP! Stop fighting this instant!”

Motonari’s cackle rose in volume and pitch as he laughed at her bold - and foolish - move. But Kennyo’s sword armed dropped. 

“That’s right! You heard me! Cut it out!” 

That was perhaps not the best choice of words, Mitsuhide thought. But it seemed to work. At least, it brought a moment of calm as the monk and the pirate watched her. He calculated his next move should they resume the attack. At this distance, he could easily get his little one out the door, though it would leave him painfully open. Worth it, but he’d take a wound or two. Probably not enough to kill him. Not quickly. Plenty of time to take them both down . . .

The chatelaine put her fists to her hips, staring them down. Even Mouri felt the weight of her disapproval. His laughter died off. “You. Are acting like children. I thought this was a meeting of men.” One hand rose, finger extended like a weapon toward the Abbot. “And you! Aren’t you a monk? Attacking your host?” Her voice was hot with outrage. “Where are your manners?”

Kennyo took a step back, his eyes wide. “Are you . . . rebuking me?”

Her lips were set in a firm line, cheeks red with anger. Hot eyes swept Mitsuhide and Mouri up together. “And you! Don’t think this doesn’t apply to you. Did you want help? Or not?”

Had they not had an audience - and a deadly one at that - Mitsuhide would have kissed her. Battle-lust still sang in his veins and all that energy needed an outlet. He could imagine crushing her against the wall, his lips taking hers while his hands tore open that kimono to . . . he coughed. His little one was . . . entirely . . . too distracting.

She seemed oblivious to his thoughts as she crossed her arms. “Well? You have about three seconds to put up your weapons and prove to me that you are men. Otherwise I’ll - I’ll turn this party right around!”

Motonari’s lips turned up in a muted smile, unusual for him. Mitsuhide did not like the light in Mouri’s eyes as he regarded the chatelain. After a long moment of silence, the pirate sheathed his sword and picked his pistol up. 

He put his own blade away and heard Kennyo do the same. He chuckled as she watched them obey her order. “To think, after everything it is you that now lectures me.” He bowed to her and then to his guests.

“Perfect,” she chirped, flashing the three men a tight smile. “I’ll get some tea.”

Mitsuhide could tell by the way she stepped toward the door that she was a breath away from falling over. Her firmness was an act. Convincing, but short-lived. He caught her by the elbow and helped her to the door. 

She leaned against him taking strength from his closeness.

He kissed her cheek and whispered. “I am sorry to put you in danger like that. It seems I - I lost my cool.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it? You never let anything disturb you before.” Her troubled expression broke his heart.

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t want you to think about that. My actions are mine alone. Only I bear any blame.” He bit at his lip before continuing. “I couldn’t handle seeing someone pull a weapon so close to you.”

Behind them, Kennyo cleared his throat. “Who is this young girl, Akechi?”

Mitsuhide turned, his arm still around his little mouse. “She is a princess of the Oda, the chatelaine of Azuchi castle and my - my fiancee.”

“Your . . .” The Abbot’s expression was one of surprise. His hard eyes focused on the chatelaine. “Young lady. I have a question for you.”

Motonari leaned back on the wall, looking as if this had been the outcome he wanted all along. “Finally ready to talk, eh?”

“Quiet. I’m not speaking to you.” Kennyo’s gaze did not waver. “Why are you here, girl? With Mitsuhide Akechi on the dawn of his march against the shogun?”

With a deep breath, the chatelaine stood up straight, removing herself from the warmth and support Mitsuhide offered. She met the Abbot’s eyes without flinching. “Officially, I’m here to get in Mitsuhide’s way. To stop him from being reckless.” She smiled wistfully. “At least, that’s my job until the battle starts. But up to that moment, I plan to be by his side.”

“I see.” Kennyo’s gravelled voice sounded uncertain, a tone that rarely came from the demon-monk. 

“If you’re done talking to my lit - ah, my fiancee, I’d like to speak with you about my proposal,” Mitsuhide interrupted.

The Abbot’s expression hardened. “I have put down my weapon at the request of this young woman. Do not take that for interest in whatever game you play, kitsune.”

Mitsuhide glanced at Mouri in annoyance. “I had hoped your former ally would put a little more effort into persuading you.”

“Pfft. Be thankful I even brought ‘im,” Motonari snorted.

Kennyo’s squared his shoulders. “I am leaving. Be warned that when I see you again, I will not show mercy.”

“Please. A moment more, Abbot Kennyo.” Mitsuhide thought courtesy and respect would buy him just a little more time to soften the monk to his plot. “You have reason to disdain an alliance with me, but you share a need to see the shogun dead.”

The Abbot raised one eyebrow.

“Your follower, the one killed in the Azuchi dungeons?” Mitsuhide assumed Kennyo would remember the recent loss. He saw the Abbot give a slight nod. “He was murdered on Ashikaga’s orders. Yoshiaki used that death to try and make it seem that you and I were connected.”

Kennyo’s low growl sounded more demon than man. 

The chatelaine nodded agreement. “Yes, that’s right. He admitted it at Honno-ji.”

Mitsuhide watched the Abbot carefully. This was delicate work. “That death came after days of gruesome torture as he was forced to lie, and falsely confess we were allies.”

“Why . . . why are you telling me what I already know?” The words tore from the Abbot’s throat, a rumble of warning like the snarl of a rabid dog.

This would either win him to their side or provoke a renewed attack. Mitsuhide took a small step forward, just to make sure he could easily push his little one out the door if it came to that. “What other agents of yours might the shogun already know about? Perhaps another spy in the Oda forces? One my informants tell me is currently pursuing the shogun as we speak?” The image of bright, troubled eyes and a sweet smile accompanied the words as Mitsuhide thought on the subject of their discussion. 

The Abbot’s expression shifted to one of surprise and barely suppressed rage.

Yes. Now they had him. Mitsuhide kept his expression neutral. “I am right, am I not? Your faithful pet, the one you snuck into Azuchi some time ago . . . he is the one you’ve set to hunt the shogun.”

Mouri chuckled. “Damn. You even know about the kid, huh?”

“You hellspawn,” Kennyo rumbled. He grabbed Mitsuhide by his clothes and lifted him up as if to shake him. 

Mitsuhide knew he’d won this round. “Perhaps? But as you may know, my memory is quite poor. I find myself often confused . . . forgetting all kinds of things . . .” The Abbot had only to accept his defeat now. “I suspect that as long as I have proper allies in my fight against the shogun, this little detail will have quite escaped me by the time I return to Azuchi.”

Kennyo did shake him then. Still refusing to see the inevitable conclusion of this meeting.

“Abbot . . . tell me, didn’t you come tonight because your own fight against Ashikaga was going harder than you expected? Didn’t you wish for some assistance? Be honest with yourself, if not with me.”

Motonari straightened. “Come on, Kennyo. It’s not like yer marryin’ the kitsune. This is all just temporary. We can kill Akechi the second we put the shogun down.”

“You are both vile men.” The Abbot lowered Mitsuhide to the ground and released his grip.

“An’ vicious, mad, bloodthirsty,” Mouri went on, his grin widening until his teeth shone.

Mitsuhide straightened his clothes. “Yes. We are all birds of a feather. And to kill a man who barely grants others their place as fellow humans, it falls to monsters like ourselves.”

 Kennyo’s nod of agreement was barely a tilt of his chin. “Do not expect camaraderie from me. The moment the shogun’s head leaves his neck, I will again seek Nobunaga’s life. And yours.” The twin fires of his eyes burned like banked coals.

“Your terms are accepted. Now. We have much planning to do.” At that, the three sat on the floor, together, but apart. Hands near weapons, tense shoulders, and terse words.

“I’ll ah, go get that tea then,” the chatelaine mumbled. 

Mitsuhide flashed her a small smile. He was so proud of her. And so troubled by her. How could one little mouse leave him such a mess?

Next: Unexpected Gifts

[apiratewhopines]

In the Offing

Summary: AU - Storybrooke - Emma Swan is drafted to help Liam Jones clear his brother’s name in the disappearance of a former flame. As she digs deeper into the rash of missing person cases, she risks losing more than just her heart as she uncovers the truth.

Chapter One - Pilot

Summary: In which our heroine embarks on an adventure

“Let the exits pass, all the tar and glass

Til the road and sky align”

-Angela, The Lumineers

If asked, Emma Swan would land firmly in the ‘It was a dark and stormy night’ camp rather than the ‘Once Upon a Time’ one.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in happiness and true love and good triumphing over evil. She did. Or at least she tried to believe in them, which was nearly the same thing.

It was just that in her experience, relationships were more likely to end in indifference and divergent roads at best or disappointment, deceit and violence at their worst. It rarely ended in laughter over the dinner table, surrounded by the people you loved and admired. In fact, it never ended that way for her. And she was fine with that. Or at least she tried to believe she was, which was not nearly the same thing.

So it was without the slightest bit of surprise that she made her way back to her office from yet another honey trap date, her third this week if anyone was keeping track. She didn’t anymore, had stopped wondering years ago how there were so many cheating spouses and deadbeat dads and none too bright criminals in one city. Nor did she have the energy to wonder why she found her doorway blocked by the broad form of her sometimes collaborator, sometimes competitor, always annoying quasi-neighbor.

“What do you want, Liam? I’m not staying. I’m only dropping off paperwork so I can go home and mourn the loss of human decency uninterrupted.”

“Perhaps a bath would be more helpful, lass. You smell like a walking distillery,” he replied, not bothered by her unfriendly tone and refusal to meet his eyes as she elbowed him out of the way and unlocked the door. “Were you drowning your sorrows or were they drowning you?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I caught the guy who did this and he smells like jail now so I would say I won,” she muttered, bristling only a little bit when he followed her inside. She would like to say that she and Liam had a complicated relationship but the truth was they tolerated each other when they had to and avoided each other when they didn’t. She could count on him to be professional, which unfortunately was not a given in their line of work, and his complete disinterest in her as a person was a quality she appreciated, having never been someone who craved attention or willingly engaged in small talk.

Now that she thought about it, he was probably one of the better connections she had made in Boston. If his self-righteous, holier-than-thou attitude chafed at times...well, no one was perfect. She had met him when her boss moved their bail bonds office operations to their current location and with his private investigation business occupying the suite next door, they would throw work each other’s way when it made sense. Despite knowing him for nearly two years, she would be hard-pressed to recall a single interaction after hours or off the job so even though she was tired and her feet were killing her from running down tonight’s skip in stiletto heels, she was a little curious about why he was there. “Barry isn’t here.”

“If I was looking for Barry, this is the last place I would be.”

She snorted as she dropped off a packet of reports on the nearest desk. The truth was that her boss, who also happened to own the business, was probably cruising off the coast of Florida at that very moment and hadn’t stepped foot in the office since they moved. But she considered absenteeism a great quality in a boss so she wasn’t complaining.

Sighing, she turned around to face him. She leaned against the desk behind her and hoped he didn’t notice her flexing her feet in an attempt to keep them from cramping. “As nice as it is to catch up, I’ve had a long night. Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Henry mentioned that he was going to spend the summer with his father when he came by last week,” Liam stated as if that explained everything. Henry’s capacity to make friends never ceased to astound her and was definitely a characteristic he inherited from Neal. Even curmudgeonly Liam Jones had fallen victim to her kid’s ability to engage with anyone. Little did her visitor suspect that reminding her that she had nearly eight weeks of going home to an empty apartment was not the best way for him to start a conversation.

It had been with great trepidation that she had agreed to the trip at all. After years of fielding her son’s questions about his father, she used her considerable tracking skills to finally run her ex to ground about eighteen months ago. Enough time had passed for her to forgive him, although she doubted she would ever forget, but she felt she owed Henry the chance to at least meet his father. And of course, they had hit it off as she had both hoped for and feared.

She had worried, apparently needlessly so, that Neal would quickly lose interest in the son he hadn’t know existed and was inconveniently located in a different state. However, the man who had no issues with abandoning her a decade ago had surprised her. He called Henry every day and made the trip at least once a month to visit. He had shown up and supported Henry in ways she hadn’t expected and it reminded her that not all the times had been bad and maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a villain. When Neal had approached her about a long distance trip that spanned their son’s entire summer break, her first reaction was to forbid it but she knew Henry needed it. Although she would never admit it to Neal, she had also appreciated that he had brought it up with her first rather than sending Henry to talk her into it.

Still, it had physically hurt her to see them walking away together at the airport yesterday, similar gaits and probably with matching, wide smiles on their faces.

Now her interaction with her son would be reduced to a couple of texts a day and FaceTime calls a few times a week while Henry had the time of his life gallivanting around California with his father and future stepmother. In a flash, she went from tired and curious to tired and pissed. “Right. Glad you reminded me before I made it home and called the police about a kidnapping. Did you need something, Liam, or are you just trying to bother me?”

“Both. Obviously,” he said dryly.

“Great, he’s got jokes,” she groaned as she threw her head back in frustration. “I should warn you that I’ve already punched one jerk tonight. I’m hungry and exhausted and if you don’t get on with it, I’m not afraid to add another one to the list.”

He sighed and for the first time she noticed the tenseness in the way he was holding himself. Whatever the reason for his visit, it obviously had him wound up pretty tightly. Against her better judgement, she felt her curiosity stirring again.

“Fine, since you’re obviously not fit to be out in public,” he said with a vague gesture toward her whiskey-flavored dress, “order some delivery and let’s talk.”

—

The smell of cheese did a lot to restore her good humor. She watched him from under her lashes as he looked at the meat-lovers pizza with what approached horror in his expression. She never pegged him as a health food nut, although she could tell he took care of himself, so maybe what offended him was the grease that had soaked through the box to the papers that were stacked neatly on his desk. Tearing off a large slice, she hummed happily while she took the first scorching bite.

“I need a favor,” he stated without preamble before he too took a bite and glanced at her with a pained look in his eye.

She was pretty sure that this was the first time he had ever uttered those words in his life and that was probably the source of his discomfort rather than the molten lava cheese he just swallowed. She tried not to show any interest even though hundreds of questions wanted to escape her mouth. She wanted to ask when they started doing favors for each other and why he was acting like a caged animal. Instead, she settled for something that he would probably find a bit more in character considering their past interactions. “Would this be the type of favor that involved payment of some sort?”

“It will, if that gets the job done quicker,” Liam answered, staring intently at his half eaten slice.

“Well, that would depend on if we’re talking about an hourly rate or a flat fee,” she joked. “I have typically found that payment is the best way to insure a job gets done.”

Something was definitely bothering him and damn if that didn’t make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and chase a shiver down her spine. With a hint of disgust she threw her uneaten crust down on her plate. She already knew that whatever he was about to ask, she was going to agree to so she continued, “Might as well spit it out, I would like to go home and get some sleep sometime this century. What kind of favor do you need?

“The kind of favor that involves going away for a couple of weeks and solving a cold case.”

Of all the things she thought he was going to ask, actual work didn’t even make the top ten list so she was a little letdown. His discomfort had her prepared for anything from being a date to an ex’s wedding to a surprise twist of being asked to babysit his previously unknown kids. Even a mundane request to water his plants while he was on vacation would have been more interesting. She wasn’t entirely sure Liam was human and it would have been fascinating to see the lair he crawled back to when he wasn’t in the office.

“Why the cloak and dagger routine? You made me think something was horribly wrong,” she huffed. Picking up another slice, she thoughtfully examined his face. There was more to this request but she was afraid she was going to have to drag it out of him based on his body language. His eyes were shuttered, shoulders hunched in on himself, body twisted slightly to the side as if he had decided this was a mistake and he was on the verge of running out of the room. While she would dearly love to see Liam Jones run away from his problems like a mere mortal, she was clearly already too invested to let that happen. Quickly swiping her fingers across a napkin to rid them of the worst of the grease, she gently laid her hand on his forearm to hold him in place. “Whatever you need to say, it will go no further.”

Apparently those were the magic words to unlock whatever secret he thought he needed to keep because with a sharp intake of breath, he started his tale. “There is a town in Maine...”

—

Hours later, he was dropping her off at the entrance to her building with a promise to pick her up at six o’clock the following evening. She wasn’t crazy about starting out that late or the fact that they would hit the tail end of rush hour traffic but her mind was swimming with too many details to make her normal fuss. Honestly, she would need all the time she could get to go through the files stuffed in the briefcase he passed off to her as she emerged from the car.

Without registering the journey upstairs, she found herself opening the door to her apartment and immediately kicked off her heels with a moan while her toes curled a little to celebrate their freedom. Her dress had climbed up her thighs a bit during the car ride but she had a feeling she was the only one who noticed. She was pretty sure she could have been naked and Liam wouldn’t have paid any attention. He was just that kind of guy. Considering they were about to embark on a trip to his former hometown where they may end up having to give the impression of a relationship, she should probably be grateful that his only attraction to her seemed to be limited to her ability to find people and her reputation for being a spookily accurate human lie detector. For her part, all she wanted from him was a couple weeks of distraction from what was surely going to turn out to be a lonely summer. If she was getting paid for it, all the better.

Leaving her shoes where they fell in the entranceway, she grabbed a hair band from the narrow table that she privately thought of as their crap collector. She had never been the neatest person and she had passed that trait on to Henry so you could never predict what random stuff would be found on the table that served no other purpose than to be a catch all for the things they discarded when they arrived home.

Styling her long blonde hair into a messy bun, she pulled her ruined dress over her head and casually threw it in the direction of the laundry basket. Taking advantage of the fact that there wasn’t a ten-year-old at home that would be traumatized by her behavior, she lugged the briefcase to the kitchen island and spread the files across the countertop before walking back to her closet to slip into a pair of black yoga pants and a Red Sox tank top, not wanting to take the time to shower at the moment. Besides, she was the only one home to know how bad the smell of whiskey and sweat was after sitting for hours in a small office, stuffing her face with the unhealthiest pizza on the planet and getting drawn into the web of mystery that had made the always serious Mr. Jones even more somber.

Pouring a glass of wine, she climbed up on one of stools that formed a line that ran the length of the counter and pulled the top file to her. The photo paper-clipped to the inside showed a rundown pawn shop that might as well have had a neon sign flashing ‘Shady Place of Business.’ Below it was a list of names from various missing persons cases spanning thirty years.

Taking the first sip of wine, she murmured, “What have you gotten me into, Liam?”

She spent the next several hours combing through the files until her back hurt and her contacts felt scratchy in her eyes. It seemed like Jones Investigation had a file for everyone that lived in the town at the time of the burglary as well as newspaper clipping from the various investigations into the suspicious disappearance of citizens.

It was too much information to take in during the course of one night but Liam had been insistent that the files remain in Boston. He didn’t want to risk tipping off any suspects to the real reason for their trip should the paperwork be discovered. So, under direct orders from the former British Naval officer to memorize the facts, when she reached the end of the files, she would start over again. She sorted and resorted the files into stacks based on a variety of factors from chronological order to some distinguishing characteristic like age, proximity to crime, or possible motive.

If her attention kept wondering back to the grainy photo of one Killian Jones, brother of her dour compatriot, she blamed the wine and lack of sleep. Even the low quality of the picture couldn’t conceal that the younger Jones brother was an incredibly attractive man. However, he looked enough like Liam to make her interest unsettling and that was what finally pulled her away from her research and drove her to bed where she dreamed of blue eyes and a wicked smile.

—

For most of the trip, the only sound was of the sports commentators who nearly shouted out a play-by-play of a soccer match Liam had politely asked to listen to as they pulled out of her parking garage. The only other break in their silent commute was the subtle hum and thump of road noise occasionally making its way into the cabin. He had been unimpressed with her offer to take her car, not even bothering to acknowledge her when she suggested it and simply opening the lift gate to the large, dark colored Honda Pilot he had rented. If he noticed her surprise at finding several bags already in the truck and heard her sarcastic observation about packing light as she had to reposition some of his luggage to find a spot for her single gym sized duffel bag, he didn’t show it.

As she had predicted, they spent an hour stuck in traffic before getting beyond the city limits where the cars spread out and their follow drivers seemed to think that allowed them to indulge in NASCAR fantasies. She used the quiet to mentally go over the particulars of the case before them, secure in the knowledge that unless she magically sprouted another head Liam was unlikely to start up a conversation at this point in the trip.

Fact One: Leo and Ava Blanchard left for a date night and never returned home to their young daughter. There car was found broken down on the side of the road about a mile from their home. No sign of foul play, no trace of their whereabouts.

Fact Two: Shortly thereafter, there was a burglary at Gold’s Pawnshop on Main Street. No sign of forced entry and the owner claimed nothing had been stolen, but the alarm had been tripped from the inside. Having nothing to go on and with no stolen items to track down, the local law enforcement devoted a total of five minutes to the case. Basically as soon as the report was filed, the case was closed and life moved on.

Fact Three: Robert Nolan had a few too many at a bar one night, which apparently was a reoccurring circumstance, and never found his way back to his family. He was rumored to be involved in some illicit activities but no proof of a crime was ever found.

Fact Four: There appeared to be a bit of a lull for more than a decade and then a rapid secession of missing person reports: Regina Mills, Peter Wolfe, and finally Milah Gold.

It was the last one that seemed to drive Liam’s interest in the cases. Although he and his brother hadn’t relocated to the US until the early 2000s, it seemed his little brother quickly formed an attachment, which Emma read between the lines to mean had an affair, with the older wife of the town’s local businessman. After his wife vanished into thin air, Mr. Gold and the local police tried their best to pin her disappearance on Killian but could never come up with enough evidence to press charges.

The final piece came through sources Liam was disinclined to name. He had recently found out that a newly arrived visitor had been asking questions around town and according to his source, the visitor was a best-selling true crime author named August Booth who happened to be weeks away from publishing a tell-all book about the sordid history of the town.

Going into full protective mode, Liam had decided the best course of action was to return to the small town and solve the mystery, or potentially multiple mysteries if they were as interconnected as he thought, thereby clearing his brother’s name beyond all doubt.

If it had been anyone else who had asked for her help, she would have been flattered but she knew Liam to be practical above all else. He valued her skills but it was probably Henry’s absence that was the catalyst for this particular partnership. He needed an extra set of eyes and ears and she was a known element who was conveniently available for a long term undercover assignment. Still, he had trusted her with the family secrets, or at least his brother’s secrets, so she was trying to be mindful this wasn’t simply another case for him.

She wasn’t convinced the non-burglary and series of disappearances he seemed to think connected would turn out to be anything but she knew better than to discard possibilities this early on. She also wasn’t convinced that parading in front of his family and friends as a girlfriend was a good game plan.

“I think we need to revisit this cover story,” she said as he pulled off the highway and into the lot of a gas station.

“If you can find a more convincing reason for me to show up with a strange woman, I will gladly listen to it,” he replied before exiting the car and fading away into the dark night.

“No, I wouldn’t like anything from the store, thanks for asking,”she called out to his back, wanting to nettle him in retaliation for his rudeness although she doubted he heard her. According to the GPS, they were only about forty-five minutes from their destination, a place called Granny’s Diner. She tried to research the town, including restaurants, venues, and things to do but it was as if Storybrooke existed out of the modern age. While you could find it on maps, there wasn’t an internet presence at all. There were no tourism sites, despite the fact that most little towns that dot the Atlantic coast were in peak season for welcoming travelers. It appeared that chains and national franchises had no interest in the sleepy town either. There were no notable residents making their marks on the world at large, no complaints on business sites, no reviews of the natural beauty to be found in its forests and parks.

The sound of Liam returning to the vehicle and pumping gas broke her train of thought. Hearing the gentle chime of her phone, she took the opportunity to check her texts before they got back on the road. Smiling a little at seeing Henry’s name on her notifications, she clicked the message and was rewarded with a silly photo of him pretending to be eaten by a shark at one of the selfie stations located on a pier in whatever seaside town they were currently visiting. She text him back a thumb’s up, following it quickly with a good night and reminder that she would send him the details of where she was staying in the morning.

Running her finger gently over her son’s happy grin in the photo, she didn’t greet Liam as he climbed back into the car.

“That’s a nice picture,” he mumbled, clicking his seatbelt in place before pulling out and rejoining the dwindling line of cars heading north. “Is he having a good time?”

“Looks like it,” she answered, turning her head away somewhat embarrassed to feel the prick of tears in her eyes. She wasn’t an emotional person but she missed the kid something fierce.

Either he was being exceptionally sensitive to her distress or he didn’t notice it because they lapsed back into silence until they were about fifteen minutes from the town line. Deciding next to the last minute was as a good a time to broach the topic again as any, she picked up on her earlier comment as if it hadn’t been over half an hour ago. “Listen, I’m not saying I have a better cover but maybe we could not volunteer the girlfriend story. You know, keep our options open unless someone asks us directly. Or maybe actually tell them we are there to investigate.”

Hope for a rational debate on the merits of her suggestions was immediately crushed when he actually started to laugh. “You’ve never lived in a small town, have you?”

“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Emma, I left five years ago under some difficult circumstances—“

“What circumstances? How difficult?”

“That’s need to know, lass,” he interrupted in a tone that cautioned against any further questions. “If it had anything to do with our case, I would have already told you. Let me assure you that everyone will know of our arrival within minutes of the car entering town. There will be a description of you circulating before you wake up tomorrow morning. There is no way people aren’t going to ask us directly and repeatedly the nature of our visit and relationship.”

She was about to interrupt again so he held up a hand to stall her and added, “And if we decline to provide details, they will make them up. Trust me, it’s better to control the story than to have eyes following us everywhere trying figure it out for themselves. As far as openly investigating a crime, you’re daft if you think they won’t clam up the second you start asking questions. In my experience people are more comfortable being a gossip than a snitch. If we are simply a couple enjoying a trip down memory lane, we will be able to move much more freely.”

“But your brother,” she countered weakly because she had to admit he had a point. “How can you lie to him? Surely he can be trusted with the truth. Not to mention that if we are staying with him, he’s going to notice that we don’t like each other.”

“What are you talking about? I’m quite fond of you. You’re one of my best friends,” he said in indignation.

Her jaw went slack with shock as she tried to process how she had slipped into some bizarro alternate reality. What in their past could possibly have given him the idea that they were friends, besties even. “I don’t know what—“ she sputtered. “Is this some weird British thing?”

He barked out a laugh that was so unlike him that she doubled down on her alternate reality theory. “Calm down, Emma. It was a joke. We aren’t friends exactly but I don’t dislike you. It will be fine. Pretend I’m one of your fake dates for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, I’m an old-fashioned guy. Killian won’t think anything of us bunking separately.”

“There is old-fashioned and then there is being a monk, Liam. But whatever. I still think you should trust your brother. Especially since it’s his neck we’re trying to save.”

“I would trust him with my life. What I can’t trust is that he won’t go off half-cocked and muck up the investigation. He’ll understand why I did this as long as we get results.”

She believed that he believed what he was saying. She also believed he was wrong. As a person who always preferred the truth, no matter how painful, her gut told her that it would be a mistake to keep the younger Jones in the dark about the true purpose of their trip. However, besties or not, she knew the mulish tilt to Liam’s mouth indicated that for him the discussion was over.

At that moment, the high beams illuminated the Welcome to Storybrooke sign. She felt an ominous dread settle over her as they approached, turning in her seat to look at the sign as they passed.

It was the last thing she saw before the world exploded in glass shards, twisted metal, and smoke.

[beauregardlionett]

the world is ending so kiss me slowly

AO3 Link

The days at sea had been seemingly endless. Heavy layers of ice fog consistently impeded their journey, and Beau had grown weary of the monotony. Lucky enough, however, the voyage hadn’t persisted for too long. The icebreaker was rather scuffed up from their earlier encounters on the icy seas, but they plugged along as steady as could be. Despite those encounters, they made it to land with relatively good timing.

Their stay in the port city hadn’t lasted more than a day, moving on with rapid intent in their search for Eiselcross. But they leapt from one monotony to the next, trekking through the endless, snowy landscapes of the north. The winds were bracing, the snow beyond freezing, and nights were worse. Beau could feel the temperature actively chapping her lips and the skin of her knuckles, but she tucked into her warm clothes as much as possible and pushed onward.

So, by the time they stumbled upon a cave system that cropped up seemingly from nowhere, of course they were going to jump at the chance to explore.

Beau was surprised that Vess had agreed to let them sidetrack like this. But when Beau thought about it, Vess’ job was to explore and cultivate. So perhaps she thought the cave system might yield something of interest.

However, the cave only yielded a reprieve from the wind and snow. It was remarkably dull, the rough-hewn walls lacking anything but basic rock and sediment. But they continued on for a little while longer, if only to stay out of the wind, until they came to a three-way split. And while they all knew it was a bad idea, they agreed to divide and conquer to satiate their curiosity.

“Five minutes in each direction,” Fjord instructed firmly. “If you don’t find anything promising, turn around and come back. The last thing we need is to get lost down here.”

The others nodded as Beau flashed her friend a lazy salute. She lingered to watch Fjord, Caduceus, and Veth head down one path, and Caleb, Vess, and Jester down the other. Turning to Yasha, she fought down the butterflies in her stomach and gestured to the remaining tunnel before them.

“Shall we?”

Yasha seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she turned to lead them down the tunnel. Their steps echoed with dull reverberation in the narrow space, and the cave continued to yield nothing.

Three minutes into their winding way down the tunnel with a semi-awkward silence lingering between them, something snarled in the shadows. Beau’s footsteps halted immediately, eyes sweeping for a source. In her peripheral, Yasha’s hand moved instantly to the hilt of her sword.

With her goggles on, Beau stared into the grey darkness and scanned for the source of the sound. With slow intent, she shifted her right foot back, widening her stance in preparation. This was far from the ideal place to be fighting, and her pulse picked up with nervous anticipation.

Suddenly, in a blur of darkness and movement, a creature lunged from the shadows and swiped massive claws at Beau. She pulled back, quick enough to dodge a lethal blow, but still caught the wide arc of the strike. Claws that were as cold as the ice they had left outside cut through the skin of her side. Beau cried out with a pained, “fuck!” as she lashed out on instinct.

Her first wild punch missed entirely. Somehow, through the haze of painful cold that was now creeping through her veins like poison, she landed her second strike on its hide. She knew the instant her knuckles connected with its fur that she had barely hurt the thing. Beau stumbled back, just missing another blow from its claws. Clutching an arm around her midsection, Beau tried to steady herself by leaning against the tunnel wall. As she attempted to focus through the pulsing chill that spread with every rapid thud of her heart, Beau turned to look for Yasha.

The barbarian slipped past Beau, approaching the creature with her sword drawn and a cry of rage echoing in the tunnel. There was that familiar fire in her multi-colored eyes, and Beau instinctively relaxed. Something about having Yasha beside her in battle that made Beau feel like everything would be okay.

Yasha, veins bulging in her forehead with her rage, somehow maneuvered her greatsword in the narrow space and cut deep into the creature’s side. It yelped with pain a second before Yasha whirled and slammed the flat of her blade against its side. The beast went flying into the side of the cavern wall, colliding with a rough crack and pained yelp.

The tunnel shook, and the creature, heavily wounded and dazed, snarled in their direction before turning and fleeing further into the cave system. Beau was still leaning against the wall, tremors running through the rock beneath her skin. Panic seeped into her expression as she locked eyes with Yasha.

“Yash-” she called out, before the sound of falling rock rumbled above her and cut her off. On instinct, Beau moved away from the wall at the same moment Yasha reached out for the monk. The Aasimar’s fingers curled around Beau’s forearm, tugging her away from the danger. Yasha whirled, pressing Beau in close and hunching over the monk, shielding her entirely from the falling rocks that cascaded from the ceiling.

Beau ducked her head against Yasha’s shoulder and curled chilled fingers into the warm fabric of the Aasimar’s coat.

When the rumbling and crashing finally ceased, Beau still stood tense and shuddering in Yasha’s hold.

“Beau?” Yasha’s voice cracked above her, the woman’s hand shifting to slide down her back as Yasha pulled away slightly. “Are you okay?”

Breathing out a rough, maniac huff of a laugh, Beau felt all the tension bleed from her muscles in one go. She slumped against Yasha, drained and freezing. The Aasimar’s hands fumbled to catch her for a moment, the sound of Yasha’s greatsword clattering to the cavern floor a jarring cacophony in the otherwise silence. But Yasha grabbed Beau around the shoulders and helped her to the floor.

“Hang on,” Yasha muttered more to herself than to Beau. “Close your eyes.”

Light flooded the space a moment later, Yasha’s greatsword glowing a vibrant, dull orange color like firelight where it lay beside them. Yasha turned back to Beau, concern lining every curve of her expression. She seemed to scan Beau, eyes latching onto the wound on Beau’s side. Her expression darkened marginally before she reached out and set her hand on the wound with a gentle touch. Yasha’s fingers glowed with a soft vibrance for a moment as warmth pulsed through Beau. It wasn’t enough to banish the chill in her veins, but it helped.

“Thanks,” Beau breathed shakily, her fingers still trembling. She looked around and realized with sinking dread that the rockfall now blocked the surrounding tunnel on both sides.

“Shit.” Beau summed up rather eloquently.

“Yep,” Yasha agreed, moving to sit beside Beau.

If they thought the tunnel was narrow to begin with, it now barely left room for Beau to stand upright. Which meant if Yasha so much as tried to straighten up, she would smack her head rather painfully into the rocks. It also meant she had no chance of maneuvering her sword, so it stayed put on the floor.

“Let’s hope Fjord sticks to his five-minute time limit,” Beau mused, curling her knees to her chest in an effort to keep her body heat maintained. “If he does, they’ll probably come looking for us relatively soon.”

“I hope so,” Yasha sighed, leaning against the part of the original cave wall. They were lucky the rocks had fallen the way they did. They might have just been crushed all together under different circumstances. Beau shuddered at the thought and felt more than saw Yasha’s gaze snap to her.

“You’re cold,” Yasha said. It was an observation rather than a question, but Beau still tried to deny it. She opened her mouth to brush off the concern, assure Yasha that she was fine. But before she could even get a word out, the Aasimar removed her fur-lined cloak and wrapped it around Beau’s shoulders. Her hands fussed for a few moments, tucking Beau beneath the fabric securely, lips pursed with a concentration Beau found stupidly endearing.

“Thanks,” Beau managed her gratitude without her voice cracking, burrowing into the offered cloak. She felt insufferably awkward just then, realizing she was now stuck in a tiny space with the woman of her affections. Every stilted, flustered interaction she had ever shared with Yasha reared to the forefront of Beau’s mind. It came with the reminder of the very solidifying conversation of her feelings she had had with Fjord not too long ago.

Oh, the gods hated her.

Yasha, who had been fiddling with something on her belt, looked up at Beau and frowned after a minute. She shifted closer and opened her arms in a gesture that made Beau’s face flush in an instant.

“You’re still shaking,” Yasha said by quiet explanation. “I do not want you to freeze or anything like that.”

Beau snorted and shifted in her seat, wanting nothing more than to let Yasha hold her, but holding back. Yasha offered, so there was no reason not to. But she reminded herself that Yasha was off-limits because of Zualla. Yasha needed to make the first move and yeah, she sat there with her arms out, ready to hold Beau without question or prompt. But if Beau accepted, wouldn’t it be like making the first move? Wouldn’t that make Yasha feel obligated to...something? Gods, she was so cold she couldn’t think, but she was certain that she couldn’t accept this offer because...because--

“Beau,” Yasha’s voice cut through the static in Beau’s head, the monk sniffing against the chill in her bones as she looked up. The Aasimar’s face was as neutral as ever, despite the pink in her cheeks. Her arms were still open.

“Do you want to schnuggle?”

Beau blinked at Yasha’s deadpan delivery and promptly lost it. She curled over herself with laughter, tears squeezing from her eyes as she clutched at her pained, chilled abdomen. She heard Yasha chuckling beside her, and Beau felt the tension eek from the atmosphere.

“Yeah,” Beau managed, breathless. “Yeah, I’d love to schnuggle.”

Still giggling, she let Yasha maneuver them so she was sideways in Yasha’s lap, her head tucked against the Aasimar’s shoulder. The barbarian’s arms were a firm, warm weight wrapped around Beau’s wiry frame, and she sank into the easily offered comfort.

“Thanks, Yasha,” Beau mumbled, exhaustion creeping in. “I owe you a couple gold pieces.”

Yasha chuckled quietly, the noise deep and rumbling in her chest where Beau’s cheek pressed against Yasha’s clavicle.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she promised. “I’m happy to help.”

“You’re great,” Beau sighed, pulling the cloak a little tighter around her. She couldn’t seem to banish the chill in her veins. Her training had helped her gain immunity to poisons, but that beast’s chill was more like magic than toxin.

Fuck.

Hopefully, the others found them soon, because Jester or Caduceus would probably fix it. But until then, she didn’t want to alert Yasha to how bad her wound might be. She didn’t want to worry her.

“Hey, Beau?” Yasha sounded hesitant above her, and Beau hummed in wordless answer. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah,” Beau mumbled, cozy despite the chill. “‘course.”

“I like you,” Yasha said, words rushed and stumbling, like she was afraid she’d lose her courage if she held onto them for too long. Beau stilled against Yasha’s shoulder and remained quiet. She hated to let those words kindle fledgling hopes, because what if Yasha didn’t mean it that way?

“A lot,” Yasha continued, and Beau remained frozen. “And sometimes...it makes me feel very...bad. Not because I regret it,” Yasha was quick to amend. “But because of...Zualla. But I think she would want me to be happy. And you...uhm. You make me happy.”

Yasha’s voice tapered off near the end, arms stiff where they remained wrapped around Beau. The monk knew that she feared rejection, feared that Beau would brush her off and tell her it wasn’t mutual.

But it was.

With an alarming amount of effort, Beau picked her head up off Yasha’s shoulder and turned her face up to look at the barbarian. She saw the nerves highlighting every inch of Yasha’s tentative expression and sensed the tremulous hope surging in her veins.

And all Beau could do was respond with an honesty she usually couldn’t afford.

“I like you, too, Yasha,” Beau said as quietly as possible, afraid she might shatter the air around them if she spoke too loudly. “More than I was prepared to. But I like you.”

Yasha didn’t seem to know what to do with Beau’s reciprocation, but her lips curled into a slow smile and her arms around the monk tightened. Joy eked into her eyes and she laughed, breathy and disbelieving.

“May I kiss you? I really want to kiss you. And not in an ‘this is the end, so I might as well’ kind of way. I’ve uh...I’ve wanted to kiss you a lot for, like, a while.”

It was Beau’s turn to huff out a laugh, and she was too afraid to speak and stumble, so she nodded eagerly instead.

Yasha, practically glowing, bundled Beau close and ducked her head down to meet the monk halfway.

The warm press of Yasha’s lips against her own didn’t magically banish the ice in Beau’s veins. But it was certainly a welcome distraction. Beau felt her breath catch in her chest, a stuttering, muted gasp of realization that oh fuck. She was in so deep.

Yasha’s arms stayed wrapped around her, firm and encompassing, keeping Beau right where she wanted to be. Their kiss was chaste, but deep and ringing with a passion beyond frightening. Beau had kissed many people in her time, had done a lot more than kissing, but this...this was something else. Yasha held her like she was worth something and kissed her with attention. She wasn’t chasing pleasure or looking to satisfy a desire - she was declaring to Beau I’m here, I’m in no hurry, I care about you.

And Beau had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

Her first instinct was to break and run - but that was not an option given their surroundings. And despite the fear thrumming in time with her heart, there was also something else - something lighter. A giddiness in her belly that curled with delight at being recognized, at being seen. Yasha always saw her and understood her in ways that others never could. And Yasha thanked her once before for not judging her, but Beau had never gotten the chance to thank Yasha for doing the same.

So she pressed a little closer and clung a little tighter and hoped that Yasha understood her now, too.

There was nowhere else for them to go, no rush in these tight quarters.

Beau adjusted, moving her lips to a more comfortable angle and Yasha met her halfway. The Aasimar inhaled, and Beau realized from where she still pressed against Yasha’s chest that she was inhaling, too. Beau had lost track of time, just clinging to the awareness that there was nothing else she wanted at the moment.

(Maybe she wanted to get out of this cave, but that could wait just a little longer.)

They only broke apart, breath stuttering from their shared pattern, when Jester’s voice rang in Beau’s head.

Beau! Where are you guys? We’re all waiting, but we don’t know if you found anything. Are you guys making out? Please let me know!

Clearing her throat as she laughed awkwardly, Beau just barely remembered to respond. She hoped her voice didn’t sound as wrecked as she felt.

“Hey, Jes,” she said, shooting a glance to Yasha, who blushed but grinned anyway. “We’re a bit...stuck. Our tunnel caved in. Probably about a three-minute walk down. Help us out, please.”

She wasn’t sure if that had fit in the allotted length of Jester’s spell, but the magic dissipated a moment later, so she figured it worked. She shrugged to hide another cold induced shudder and flicked a look up at Yasha. The barbarian regarded her fondly, fingers tracing idle patterns in the coat’s fabric up and down Beau’s arm. It was such a tender gesture that Beau felt her cheeks heat as she ducked her head.

“I guess we’ll be out soon,” Yasha said.

“Yeah,” Beau said eloquently. “I r-really need to str-stretch my legs.”

She didn’t realize how much her teeth were chattering as she spoke until Yasha shifted her around. The barbarian’s eyes lit with concern as she reached a hand out to brush the stray locks of Beau’s hair from her face. Beau, a little dizzy from the kiss and the relief of knowing their friends were coming, gave Yasha’s concern a dazed smile.

“Yer super hot, y’know that?” Beau slurred, leaning into the hand Yasha had cupped to Beau’s cheek. The dizziness and loopy sensation were more likely a result of the magical cold in her blood. But Beau couldn’t find it in herself to be that concern when it meant Yasha would keep holding her close.

“We need to get out of here, fast,” Yasha said, more to herself than anything. She shifted beneath Beau and the monk sucked in a sharp breath, clinging weakly to Yasha as the space started spinning with wild abandon.

“I don’ feel good...” Beau managed, her fingers like ice and her limbs cold and useless. “‘M cold.”

“I know,” Yasha whispered, one arm tightening around Beau’s shoulders as the other reached for her sword. It was clear, even through her icy haze, that Yasha did not know what she was going to do with her sword. She seemed desperate to just get them both out of this cave in.

Beau lost track of time after that, everything going fuzzy and floaty and cold. But Yasha’s arm around her remained a solid constant and Beau couldn’t find it in herself to worry about their dilemma. There was some muffled shouting at one point, something about ‘hurry’ and ‘stoneshape’.

She just wanted to sleep.

Warm hands touched her abdomen and a searing heat that felt like pure sunlight injected into her bloodstream shot from the point of contact. The ice in her veins evaporated rapidly and Beau came back to herself with a strangled gasp. Caduceus smiled down at her, giving Beau a gentle pat before stepping away.

“There ya go,” his familiar timbre rumbled. “Good as new.”

Beau pushed out a shaky sigh and realized that Yasha was still holding her.

“Hey,” she croaked with a grin.

“Are you okay?” Yasha fret in that soft voice of hers.

“Yeah,” Beau reassured her, rolling her ankles to crack them. “I feel good as new. Sorry for scaring you...I didn’t think it would get that bad that fast.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t heal you,” Yasha apologized as she set Beau on her feet, a hand still lingering against Beau’s back.

“You did what you could,” Beau waved away the apology. “I think everything you did helped me fight it off as long as I did.”

Neither of them mentioned the kiss as Caleb roped Beau into a fierce hug. Nor when Jester, Veth, and Fjord took a moment to fuss over her. Neither of them mentioned the kiss when Vess interrupted their reunion to remind them of their mission, nor when they trekked back toward the mouth of the cave. Neither of them brought it up as the party pulled their hoods up and tightened buttons, pulled gloves snug and secured their scarves.

Beau unfastened the clasp of Yasha’s cloak where it rested against her clavicle as the others headed back into the snow. She turned to Yasha, who caught the cloak before it could leave her shoulders, and tugged it firmly back over Beau’s frame, securing the fastenings with deft fingers.

“You keep it for now,” Yasha said to Beau’s confused look. “You need it more. Besides, it looks good on you.”

Beau felt her cheeks flush at the compliment as Yasha leaned down to press a lingering kiss to the flustered monk’s lips. This one didn’t last as long, didn’t end with syncopated breaths. But it warmed Beau from head to toe.

Neither of them mentioned the kiss as they walked from the cave side-by-side, wearing matching grins.

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 6

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_> 

In this chapter, the jealousy flare up is strong lol. 

Word count: 2307

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The warning bells you had been hoping to ring sounded around your home a second time, and you stepped down from the tips of your toes that you hadn’t realised you were standing upon and ducked under Brian’s arm, escaping the almost kiss to see who was here.

You guessed it was your mother, knowing her impromptu visits often occurred at night. Or Lily was back from visiting her family and wanted to check in on you as she usually did. However, nothing prepared you for who was standing there.

“Su-Sungjin.”

“My other rival has arrived,” you heard Brian mumble under his breath as he stopped beside you.

The police officer looked at you and then Brian, suddenly growing reserved. He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, Y/N. I should have called ahead of visiting you. I just was worried about you and wanted to check if you were okay. It seems like you are.”

“She is,” Brian confirmed, and you glanced at him hopelessly before shunting him in the stomach and opening your door further.

“Please, come inside.”

“Oh, I don’t wish to intrude when you have a guest here already,” Sungjin mentioned, though he stepped over the threshold far too easily, eying Brian carefully before smiling down at you. “Did you find out about the stalker?”

“Stalker is a bit of a far-fetched term, don’t you think, Constable?” Brian answered before you could, and you noticed the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You knew that Brian, when protective of someone, wasn’t afraid to use his hands if necessary. Jumping in front of him with a light laugh, you then smiled up at Sungjin to try and break their staring war.

Thankfully, it worked. “Have you had dinner at all, Sungjin? I was just about to order in something and can add on another serving for you?”

“I’m sure the busy police officer doesn’t have time to stay for dinner.”

“Interesting that we don’t even know each other and you’re answering for me,” Sungjin rebutted, glowering at the man behind you. “I’m guessing Y/N told you about me?”

“It’s a long story,” you mentioned, wondering just how many more times you’d have to use that line when it came to Brian’s existence. “Dinner?”

“Would love to,” Sungjin agreed.

It was awkward as you waited for the delivery to arrive, glancing between the two men glaring at one another and then at the door hoping for salvation. Whilst you were excited to see Sungjin again, you hadn’t really thought this through.

After all, before he turned up on your doorstep, you were fully committed to kissing the man who firmly placed himself at your side. Then again, you had already day-dreamed about kissing Sungjin multiple times before Brian had even stepped out of your computer.

Your heart and mind were a mess, as was this dinner suggestion. You were relieved when the pizza turned up, diving towards the front door with your purse in hand. Paying the driver a tip, you then returned with the meal, placing it down on the table and spreading it out. “Let’s eat!”

“So, let’s hear about this long story,” Sungjin asked midway through your second piece of pizza, in which you choked upon. Both men thrust their drink towards you, and you looked at their offerings before meekly reaching for your own.

“The story,” Brian repeated, and Sungjin glanced at him curiously. “I guess you want to know who I am.”

“He’s my cousin’s friend!” you blurted out, and Brian gaped at you instantly. “Brian is just staying here because his flat is infested with bugs. You don’t do bugs, right, Brian?”

“Cousin’s friend. Bugs. Uh-huh.” Looking over at Sungjin’s surprised expression, Brian sighed heavily. “That’s me. Brian, the cousin’s friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that,” Sungjin mentioned, a small relieved smile crossing his lips. “Hopefully it gets fixed soon.”

“Actually, I think it’s going to take a really long time. I might just end up moving in here permanently,” Brian commented with a strained smile, and you clamped your eyes shut with frustration before trying to smile politely at Sungjin.

The police officer smiled warmly back at you and began to eat again.

Thankfully, he didn’t stay too long, happy enough to see you were okay and when you confirmed you hadn’t heard from your strange intruder since Brian had arrived, it placated him enough to head for your front door.

“Dinner was lovely,” he mentioned, and you laughed.

“It was an awkward disaster.”

Sungjin nodded, chuckling softly. “Next time, I’ll take you out somewhere, if you like.”

“Re-really?”

“Only if you’re free too.”

“She’s going to be reallyyyy busy writing the next story in her trilogy, right, Miss Writer?” Brian added into the conversation, and your mood dampened again with his arrival at your side. Slinging an arm over your shoulder for effect – which worked – Brian smiled all too happily. “So busy that I wonder if she’ll even have time to eat. You know, when she’s stuck up in her worlds, she often forgets to even feed herself. Lucky I’m here, right?”

“I’ll call you!” you managed to tell Sungjin with a wave, before shutting the front door and spinning around to face the remaining man. “Wow! I never expected you to be like this!”

“Surely, you did! I mean, you created me!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And now I’m your cousin’s friend too?! You’re so good with stories, Miss Writer. Do you know what is real life and what isn’t?”

“You’re impossible when you’re jealous.”

“And you invited your hero in here when you had no need to! What are you going to do? Have a moment with him in the kitchen too? Tell him how he’s the only cop for you?!”

“Your bitterness is unfair!” you warned, stalking over to the table to clean up the takeout containers. Brian joined you, stacking the plates and cups you had used and took them over to the sink. You worked in harmony in clearing up the mess before you realised what you had both done. Stopping to watch as Brian vigorously scrubbed at a cup, you reached over for his hand and ceased his actions altogether.

“I panicked.”

“About what exactly? That the man you’ve been pining over since you met him just recently was on your doorstep or the guy you created in your stories was about to kiss you for the first time?”

So it was about to happen. Gulping back your emotions from his admission of the fact, you nodded. “Of both.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Y/N? You can’t play us both.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“I guess that hero of yours makes me the villain for turning up, huh?” he muttered before rinsing off the cup and placing it to the side of the sink, turning on his heel for your guest bedroom and shut the door with a bang.

The following morning, you were the first one up. Binks met you in the living room, winding himself around your legs and mewling for his breakfast. Smiling, you picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the kitchen. Settling him down by his food mat, you then picked up his bowl and filled it with fresh food before placing it back in front of him. You watched as he ate happily, relaxing into the simple nature of your usual routine.

Without Sungjin or Brian, life sure had been just that – simple.

Yet, you knew you wanted to fill the loneliness in your heart also. It had taken you some time to fall asleep last night, staring at the screen of your laptop at the words To Be Continued over and over. Wondering why Brian kept changing it to that instead of The End had plagued your thoughts all night long.

You had been hoping to meet him in the kitchen for breakfast and discuss it with him but you had gotten up before him. Waiting for over twenty minutes, and making as much noise as you could without being too rude, you finally walked down to the room and rapped your knuckles over the door. “Brian, can I come in?”

No answer.

Knocking a little louder this time, you repeated your question to receive, once more, silence in return. Unlatching the door, you stepped inside to find it empty of his presence.

It all hit you then like a tonne of bricks, and you went through your house from room to room in a blind panic, wondering where he had gone. Finding yourself in your office, you opened the lid to your laptop and hurried to turn it on, waiting to sign in to your account before dashing into your files for your latest story. Opening it, you bounced on the spot as your fears got heightened.

What if Brian had gone back into his world without even saying goodbye?!

You had definitely turned off the device last night before bed, but could he have turned it on and headed back into Captivated? Would he even remember you if he had?

After all the thoughts of insanity you had endured with his sudden arrival in your life, you were now equally despairing his departure. You hadn’t even kissed him yet! Let alone shared a day with him doing all the things you wanted to do. How could he just leave you like this –

“Y/N?”

Spinning around to find Brian behind you in exercise clothes and sweating from a morning run, you let go of your laptop and lurched towards him, wrapping your arms firmly around his waist. Whilst he immediately held your distraught body, he chuckled a little also. “I just went for a run. I don’t care what you say about me, even guys like me stink when we sweat.”

“You’re still here!”

“Of course, I am. Where did you think I was?” Brian asked, and when your sniffling turned to sobs, Brian attempted to pull you away from his body but you gripped on tighter. “You thought I had gone back into the story?”

“What else was I meant to think when you weren’t here, and there was no note?! Especially after last night-”

“That’s why I went for a run, to clear my head,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a note. I thought you would sleep in like usual.”

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, shaking your head, your tears spreading around the room and landing upon him in the process. “I shouldn’t be like this over you. I mean, I feel like I’ve known you forever yet you’ve only been here a couple of days and you’re right, I should be more clear with Sungjin, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

Your sentence was caught against his mouth, swift as it pressed upon yours, did it leave. Brian, evidently surprised at his attempt to stop your fevered rambling, cleared his throat before staring down at you for your reaction.

It only took you a second to think about it before you stretched up and coveted his mouth with yours. Unlike his quick peck, you moved in with the intention of savouring this one. Slowly, your mouths pressed together, tasting one another. He was slightly salty, due to the way his skin has perspired from his run and yet you didn’t care, pressing into his body further the longer your lips were attached to his. Your mind swirled with desire, and your heart thumped erratically as a result.

You were kissing Brian Kang.

When writing kissing scenes with him and Charli, albeit there had only been three so far, you had struggled. Just how would Brian Kang be as a kisser? No matter how much you had imagined his style or the way he would caress Charli, this moment in time was unlike anything you had penned. This was an entirely new feeling.

There was a hunger driving his lips now, his hands firmly taking purchase of your hips, drawing you in closer, making you his as much as you had made him yours. The taste to him changed, heating up with how his tongue dipped behind your teeth to greet yours, as if this exchange was something you two had done before. Kissing Brian was new, and yet it felt as if you had been doing it all your life. You were certain you could continue to keep kissing him as well, had you no need for air. However, you pulled away then, gasping in deep breaths, your mind and eyes blown from the experience.

Brian appeared just as dishevelled.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologise for kissing me,” Brian murmured, running his thumb over your now swollen lips. He smiled giddily before looking back at you with bright eyes. “Don’t ever apologise for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“That was some kiss,” he told you, cupping your cheek within his hand. Leaning in closer again, you felt your breath heighten, moistening your lips for him to take them hostage again. However, he merely kissed your cheek before letting you go entirely. “I’m going to have to watch myself around you, Miss Writer. Our story’s only just begun, and we’re already kissing one another. You’re more dangerous than I thought you’d be for my heart.”

“Why did I create you to say lines like that?!” you groaned as Brian slipped away from you and headed down the hallway towards your bathroom. Sticking your head around the corner to watch his departure, Brian stopped outside the door and glanced back at you, biting his lip before shaking his head and stepped into the bathroom to shower from his run.

Leaning against the threshold for support, you held your heart again.

It was beating in tune for him now.

_________________

Part 7

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[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Emergency! Part 2

Part 2 – Accidents

Summary: Dean and Cas of Squad 51 discover Dr. Kline involved in a car accident. The car accident killed another driver involved, but orphans the daughter. The Reader has to cancel her and Dean’s date night for her to go into work. Squad 51 is on the rescue again, a house fire. The night begins to calm down, Dean is off finally and heads to the reader’s house for much needed R n R.

Warnings: Smut (P in V, Protected and Unprotected sex (always use a condom)), Language, Dirty talk, Car accidents, scary situations, mild angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,925

Mobile Masterlist

Emergency! Masterlist

a/n: The timing of these is not a daily event, it can bee weeks/months apart. Sadly, I’m jumping it ahead, I just don’t know how far ahead. Joys of me being creative.

~

They sat on his couch, starting out watching Netflix. Then it turned into a make out session.

Their lips danced with one another, their tongues gliding across one another.

Her hands guided down his chest and stomach.

The mere contact caused a moan to escape his throat to which she swallowed down.

They pulled away finally for air, their lips plump and swollen.

“If we keep this up, I’m not gonna last.”

“Neither am I, Dean. I’m getting to the point I want you in me, and fuck me so hard…”

His lips crashed into hers once again, only kissing her harshly quick. He pulled away.

“Keep talking dirty like that sweetheart, and maybe I will.” He growled.

“Fuck me Dean, I want you in me, now.”

He picked her up, kissing her again. Her legs wrapped around his middle as he carried her to his room.

“As you wish sweetheart.” He says between kisses.

 Jack Kline, one of Rampart Emergency hospital’s youngest doctors. He does specialize in surgeries, baby deliveries, and even orthopedics. He does a little of everything at the hospital.

He drove down a residential street to get to work. He approached a four way stop. The intersection was pretty empty. He was the only one there. He looked both ways, despite cars parked on the curbs, and the summer season with the trees low branches fully bloomed of vibrant green leaves, he could see no car coming down from either direction. Determining it clear, he slowly accelerates. Only to be hit on the passenger side, the impact hard enough to knock him out.

 Dean slowly pulled out of her, her legs trembling from the sheer force of her climax slowly calming down.

“You okay sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Oh yeah. More than okay.” She hums.

He smiles, and works out of the used condom to throw it away.

He heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand next to them.

She groaned.

“I got it for you.” He says. Getting up to get it. He hit answer.

“Y/N Y/L/N’s phone, Dean speaking.” He answered.

“Hi, my name is Dr. Singer, tell Ms. Y/L/N we need her to come in if possible.”

“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.”

The phone call ended quickly.

“Work?” she asked.

“Yeah, Dr. Singer, they need you to come in.”

“He didn’t say why?”

“No, because I’m not you.”

“Well, I’ll shower really quick and then I better go.”

 She gone into work, heading for Bobby’s office.

“What’s up Bobby?” she asked walking in.

“I called you in here because, one someone called in and two…Jack was involved in a car accident.”

“How is he?”

“Just some bumps, bruises, minor cuts. Nothing major. But the other car, the driver died on the scene, and orphaned a seven-year-old girl.”

“Does he know?”

“He doesn’t. I almost don’t want to tell him because he will beat himself up over it.”

“We all beat ourselves up over loss. It’s normal. But he needs to know the accident wasn’t his fault. My brother’s a cop, he said the accident wasn’t his fault. That driver ran a stop sign and caused a chain reaction.”

“Still, you know how Dr. Kline can be.”

She nods.

“Now, your just doing Nurse Ruby’s 6am-6pm shift. She was scheduled to be in the ICU working the Eastern halls, you better head up there.”

“Will do, see you later.”

Bobby waves her off with a kind smile.

 Back at Station 51 the very next day, Dean came in at his usual time. So far a quiet morning.

“So how are you settling at the new place Cas?”

“It’s great, closer to the station, it has extra room. My neighbors are pretty friendly. One of them, Meg, she happens to work with Y/N at the hospital.”

“Wow, small world.”

“Yeah. How about you? How’d your date with Y/N go last night?”

“She had to go into work, a nurse called in. She called me on her break letting me know that. But the date went well.”

“Think there’ll be another date for you guys?”

“She and I are planning on seeing a movie tomorrow night since I’m off two days.”

“You two, I swear are meant to be.”

“We’ve only had two dates Cas, slow down.” Dean chuckled.

The stations alarm going off.

“Station 51, Squad 51, Station 64 Squad 64, and station 72, structure fire. 623 North Lions street.” Said over the alarm’s intercom.

“Here we go, another one.” Cas says, jumping into action, running to the squad truck.

“Another one.” Dean says. Getting in the driver seat roaring the engine to life and everyone in the station left to the location.

 “Jack, it was not your fault.” Bobby tried to soothe the young doctor.

“But a girl is orphaned because of me.”

“Because of her dad driving recklessly. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Y/N pitched in. “My brother said he ran a stop sign according to eyewitnesses in the area. He was speeding, and ran a stop sign.”

“We can fix wounds as if they were nothing. But how can we fix this? How can I fix this?”

“You’re not gonna let this go are you?” Bobby groaned.

“Not until I know someone can take care of this girl.”

“I’ll go make calls, you go home Kline, you need to rest.” Bobby insisted firmly.

“But—”

“Jack, go home. We got this.” Y/N says.

“Fine, just, call me. Keep me in the loop. Please.”

“We will, no go home and rest man.” Y/N says as Bobby left the office.

Jack left with a slump in his shoulders, as he walked back out of the hospital to take a cab home.

“Who told him? I knew this would happen if he found out.” Bobby asked.

“Think it was Abaddon. Don’t think she was thinking it through, as always.”

“How’d she find out in the first place?”

“She stood outside your office when I saw you the other day. My guess she overheard.”

“I’m gonna have a talk with her, she needs to watch it, or it could lead to major HIPPA Violations.”

“Alright, well, my shift is technically over, and my three day weekend starts. Need me for anything before I go?”

“No, go home, rest up. have a great weekend.”

“Bye Bobby, see you Monday.”

But she couldn’t make it out the door fast enough when a squad brought in a familiar face.

“Cas?!”

“We had a fire, a back draft shot him across the property.”

“What are his vitals?” she asked, kicking back into nurse mode.

“BP 130 over 85, breathing labored and shallow,” Dean began reading off of his chart. “Head injury sustained, pupils uneven and dilated.”

The emergency medical staff managed to cut Cas out of his clothes. And she saw a bruise right around his ribs.

“Possible broken ribs, get him x-rayed, and lets get other scans to find any bleeding. Especially of his head. Stat, go.” Y/N ordered.

The medical team taking Cas to radiology to get scans necessary to find anything else wrong so they can work on fixing him up.

Y/N turned her attention to Dean.

“Dean, are you okay?”

“He knocked me out of the way, Gabe opened a door, we thought the fire was under control. And he knocked me out of the way just as the backdraft happened.”

“Dean, he’s fine. Just banged up. It could have been worse, but it’s not. He’s fine.”

“Son,” John says, tearing the couple’s attention.

He saw Dean’s distraught expression as his son turned to face him.

“Y/N, can you take him home. I can have Michael drive the squad back to the station. But I don’t want him alone tonight.”

She nods. “I can do that Mr. Winchester.”

“Please, call me John. And thank you.”

She managed to guide Dean to her car, and she drove them to Dean’s house.

 “Jack, I have good news.” Bobby says.

“What’s that?”

“That girl, she has an aunt that lives up north. She’s coming down to pick up her niece. She got full custody of her yesterday.”

“That’s good, at least she has family to take care of her.”

“It is.”

“’Scuse me.” A sweet girl’s voice was heard behind the doctors.

“Hi sweetie, how are you doing?”

“Good, I heard I’m gonna live with my aunt. I’m just so happy and I just want to say thank you.”

“Thank you? Really?” Jack asked.

“Yes, my dad wasn’t a good dad. He was mad at me for getting an D on my report card, he hit me a few times and we were going home.”

“Did everyone in your family know your dad abused you like that?”

“Yes, my aunt always threatened to take me away from daddy if he hit me again or hurt me again.”

“Then I’m glad to know you’re going to be safe from here on out.” Jack says with a smile.

The girl smiles back and gives the young doctor a hug.

“Thank you again doctor.” She says sweetly.

“It’s no problem sweetheart.”

 Just as Y/N and Dean turned in for the night, Dean lied down flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Dean,” she says quietly. “You okay?”

“That could have been me.” He says just above a whisper.

“But it wasn’t, and you know he’s going to be fine. Meg updated me and Cas is going to be okay.”

He nods.

She turned towards Dean, kissing him on his cheek, then down to his jaw line.

He closed his eyes to her giving him this attention.

Just as her lips pulled away, he turned his head to her meeting her lips with his in a sweet kiss.

Their lips moved in perfect sync with each other.

Dean moved, hovering over her, his hips between her legs, humping against her clothed core. Pulling a moan out of her.

“I need you sweetheart.” He says quietly.

“I’m here baby, you’ll always have me.” She says, bringing him down to kiss her more, deepening the kiss.

He worked his boxers off of him, she also worked out of her panties.

He lined at her entrance, and gave her a glance.

“I’m on the pill, you’re good.”

He slowly pushed the head of his half hard cock through her soaking folds until he was fully seated in her.

Their lips meet again in a loving kiss as they slowly moved against each other. His hips guiding him out slightly with each thrust. Hitting her sweet spot with calculated and angled thrusts.

She met up with his slow pace, a thin sheen of sweat building on both of their faces and bodies.

His pace began to speed up just as his breathing picked up as well.

Her hips were beginning to jump out of rhythm.

Their lips pulled away, but only slightly, just ghosting over the surface as their breathing began to pick up faster.

“Dean,” she whined.

“I’m almost there, I got you baby girl.”

With three more thrusts her walls clamped down hard around him, milking him of his release. Their thrusts slowing, getting them through their high.

His hips came to a stop, still fully seating in her as he rested on his elbows, brushing her hair from her sweaty face.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m so good, you?”

“Better, now that I’m with you.”

“Get some rest Winchester, I’m not going anywhere.” She says, holding him close. Feeling him relax in her hold as they cuddled.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too Dean.”

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @evansrogerskitten, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @akshi8278, @lyarr24, @anotherspnfanfic​, @flamencodiva​, 

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/20/2021

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

PROMPT: Followup to How do you think Euryale would court the MC? #knifewifesquad

WARNINGS: Somewhat OOC 

characters Mentions of blood Crimes against fashion 

Unhealthy/Predatory Behaviors 

Reference to Greek Mythology 

Potential Spoilers for Routes 

Written by @evoedbd 

 *****************************************************************

Alisha’s answer was gorgeous. There was no other word that summed up everything that ran through her mind. Cute, delicate, fiery, marblesque… all fell under that uniquely gorgeous category. In a manner beyond human or Godly monster, or any Alisha had seen in her brief life.

The first thing to captivate her was unimaginably expressive eyes. Gems the colour of peach, dancing a fine line between pink and brown. Pale and captivating. Shock blew them wide, even as a weariness hardened them, and something void of sanity swum in their pale depths. There was something innocent about them, how large and clear they were perhaps, topped by a petite brow that seemed to carry the weight of the world and pale hair a shade between winter sunshine and summer dried grass. Hair with a short cut, wispy fringe and hanging in girlish pigtails tucked between delicate little ears… with little earrings shaped like a butcher’s knife from a murder scene, complete with photo realistic colour decal. The Alice in wonderland went batshit crazy theme continued with a lavender summers dress, ending just above delicate knees, leaving little black shoes suited to a child on display. Shoes bathed in blood; little bows knocked askew.

“Who are you?” The woman demanded; voice shrill. Soft looking lips, only half coated with a dappling of peach lipstick, peeled back from teeth. Sharp teeth. Teeth with the top canines extended almost like fangs, though evidently within the human vein of acceptable. An adorable, proud yet dainty nose turned upwards, thin nostrils flaring as if scenting the air for the next kill. So, it was becoming apparently clear Alice should never have left wonderland… but even on the rampage, her unique appearance still fell in gorgeous. Godly even. As if carved from the finest marble, then drizzled with a faint layer of gold so she gleamed in the light.

“That was a stupid question. I know who you are. What the hell were you thinking? Just barging in here like that! I could have turned you into… well, a museum piece! Do you know how many museum pieces my sisters have donated?”

Something about the way she spoke of museum pieces made Alisha feel entirely uneasy. As if these pieces could feel… but that would mean… oh. Oh no. Please no.

Alisha went to open her mouth, went to speak, only for an utterly confused squeak to escape. Enough to make her want to facepalm. She was usually calm and rational, heck she faced down Hercules on the daily, but some insane chick had her squeaking. How was that even a thing? Well, she had to be real. She had a real-life Godly Monster, someone so potent she had etched her name in history, in her living room. So, she had it down to one out of three to guess from, but what would happen if she got it wrong? She had to think carefully, try to piece everything together on the fly. A beauty carved of stone, who spoke of statues as if they were living beings, with sharpened teeth? A woman who had an unhealthy obsession with knives and inflicting pain on demigods… or anything really… anybody? Why was Alisha still looking into her eyes?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you a- you’re hurt.” She’d started carefully, tilting her gaze cautiously to avoid looking as intimidated as she was, only to notice the black patch against the woman’s ribcage. No matter who, no matter what she was, she was hurt. She was bleeding all over her own shoes. Over Alisha’s furniture. And she was kind of sweet, even with the psychotic side. This was a woman who’d left helpful messages and items to support Alisha through some tough times. It made sense now why the acts were humanly inappropriate. Could Alisha really hold cultural differences against an injured woman?

“No I’m not!” The woman’s snappiness made Alisha’s heart jump. Her insides lurched, every droplet of blood trying to relocate an inch to the left. Yet, somehow, she didn’t move a muscle. The HERA agent simply stood her ground, extending her hand as she pointed to the dark patch against the lavender.

“What’s that then?” Alisha demanded, watching the other woman lower her gaze. Peach eyes fixed on the wound for a split second, lips pursing in clear irritation. Something about it had Alisha thinking the irritation was more for the dress than the cut.

“It’s a flesh wound.”

… apparently Alisha was right.

“That’s still hurt!” Alisha finally snapped, her exasperation bursting through her human instinct to fear the godly.

“Are you calling me weak?” The woman’s sharp demand was accompanied by an earthquake worthy shift in her attitude. The peach in her eyes shrunk, the band of colour narrowing down to pinpoints even as her eyes blew wide. A crazed monster, matched by the rows of unnaturally sharp teeth, which she had bared in a wide mouthed snarl. Something Alisha couldn’t help but smile at. Granted, she probably should have been revaluating her strategy given there was also a giant leopard seal snarling from her couch, with teeth for days and murder in its lavender eyes, embraced by a halo of lavender that betrayed it was definitely this woman’s aura… but, of course, Alisha didn’t. The longer she stared at the flex of aura, for every breath of salt and brine she inhaled, she could feel an answering tide within her. It swelled in her chest, overcoming her entire being, washing away all possibility and competition until it was the only thing that could escape her.

“Euryale.” The name tasted so right. How a word could have taste, Alisha couldn’t begin to explain. Yet, the way it rolled across her tongue, how it made her lips caress the syllables… it was the tide, an ebb and flow, the rolling of waves in her mouth to which Alisha was helpless to resist. The ancient name held such wonder, such elegance, something delicate and something fierce. Of course this was Euryale. How could Alisha have ever thought otherwise? She lacked the force of Stheno, nor held the renowned grace of Medusa. Euryale was potent emotion. The myths of her cries crumbling stone played in the back of Alisha’s mind, for if she were stone, she truly doubted she could handle anguish in such a raw form. Not if Euryale expressed it like she expressed her irritation.

“You’re not weak, at all, but you are hurt. I don’t understand any of what is going on, why you’ve been leaving me messages, or why you’re hurt, but you are hurt. I need to help you. I’m not about to turn you over to H.E.R.A. If you’d wanted to hurt me, you wouldn’t have sent me all those nice things. You’d have already done it. For now, that’s enough for me to trust you. Can you now trust me?” Alisha’s words were spoken gently, as one might speak to a nervy colt. She could only watch as peach reclaimed white, swelling until there was barely white left. Those gorgeous eyes glistened, oceans beginning to trickle from them before everything withdrew. Then, the scent was only a memory. The seal as tangible as a dream one couldn’t quite remember after waking.

“You don’t know… was my intent not clear?” The Gorgon questioned, lower lip trembling as she pouted. Alisha could only shake her head.

“Charybdis and Prime told me that lines of courtship were still done in human society! They even had me spend hours memorising hundreds of atrocious lines that I might woo you properly! They said romantic notes held universal intent!” Euryale went from mopey to utterly infuriated within a blink, stamping her little black flats into the pool of blood and salt water. Alisha could only blink.

“You were… you were attempting to hit on me?”

“I spent days researching the languages of the finest poets under their guidance, only for you not to understand their complexity?” The Gorgon continued. Alisa could only bite her lip, struggling not to laugh.

“You… googled pickup lines?”

Euryale’s cheeks flushed.

“Prime told me that was how you wooed in this era!” Euryale whined, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. With every frustrated huff, her murderous little earrings jingled, making Alisha’s struggle to keep her composure that much harder.

“And stabbed them into my door? For weeks…”

“I read delivery should be given personal flare! Stheno said I should be direct!”

Well… she was direct alright.

“By stabbing my door… for weeks…” Alisha reiterated, voice lacking emotion. Aphrodite was going to have a field day with this. May was probably already planning friendfictons… Alisha could only facepalm.

“I had to research your patterns for months to establish an appropriate time schedule-”

“Are you confessing to stalking me? For months?” Alisha had to cut in. So, that explained some things, probably should have freaked her out too… but could she completely fault this adorable creature? Ok, so it was unquestionably out of line, something that Alisha would have to have some strong words with Euryale about, and Euryale was a poster child for sweet but psycho… but it was somehow charming too. Euryale looked very much like a teenager grumbling about a crush. All the social floundering, the sincere effort put into it. So, things were very lost in translation, but… it was kind of endearing watching an ancient godly monster try to act like a twenty-year-old.

“I was observing! I had to perfect the wedding gifts.”

“Wedding…?”

“The exchange of blades? A proposal? You accepted them… you didn’t know their meaning, did you?”

Again, Alisha could only shake her head. No. Nope. Absolutely no clue.

What followed was a tirade of ancient Greek, spoken so vehemently it could be nothing but the most enthusiastic of cussing fits. It was accompanied by little stamps and huffs, so reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum that Alisha was caught between cooing at the more twee aspects of the scenario or blushing at the few phrases she could roughly understand. She did neither. Before she could decide, Euryale’s foot came down that bit too hard in her previous mess, splattering little pink droplets across the floor. Her shoe slid through the puddle, sending the Gorgon sprawling onto the couch with the grace of a beached whale, and a terrified yelp that cut Alisha to the core. Before Euryale could stop it, a pitiful whine escaped her, degrading Alisha’s mind to one goal.

Comfort.

She sprang into action, reaching to press her hands tightly to the wound even as she broke into babbling.

“Hey, hey, hey! I am sure you’re really lovely, and would make a wonderful, erm, soulmate. But I haven’t really gotten to know you, and I really appreciate the knives, but I’m not ready for marriage… maybe we could start with something simple? Like coffee?” It was after her verbal outpouring that Alisha realised this was the first time she was touching Euryale.  Months of gifts and messages had finally led to this.  It should have been ground-breaking; Alisha had expected the moment to erode the mountains.  Expected her heart to seize in her chest… but everything was still.  The heat of blood and comfortable curve of Euryale’s body didn’t leave her brain melted.  Didn’t feel monumental the way she’d expected.  It was natural, just like the act of taking breath, as if she’d been born to do precisely this.

“Coffee?” The hopeful yet confused way Euryale muttered that had Alisha practically melting. How was this twee little psychopath so adorable?

“Yep. Maybe some dinners, or some movies? Oh, do you have a phone?”

“A… phone?”

“So we can call and text. I adore the gifts, but I can’t afford to keep replacing the door, not to mention if someone breaks in, I’m only human.”

“You’re Hera.” The Gorgon whispered, looking into Alisha’s eyes. Again, the peach had swallowed the white, brimming with such profound sorrow that Alisha couldn’t resist leaning closer to press her lips to the Gorgon’s forehead.

“I’m still only human… so, coffee?”

“Coffee.” Euryale agreed, lips pulling into a timid smile. Before either woman could process more, The Gorgon flinched, a hiss escaping between her teeth.

“And bandages?” Alisha suggested, earning some form of snort from Euryale to accompany the flush to her cheeks and the growing little smile.

“Bandages are good.”

In hindsight, Alisha probably should have asked what had happened, but she was far too lost in that gorgeous smile, in that beautiful moment of vulnerability, to do anything more than come to two very startling conclusions.

One - she was the biggest sapphic disaster to ever walk the earth.

Two - If Euyrale didn’t stop being so endearing, Alisha was absolutely fucked.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Grandma Knows Best

Masterlist

Summary: Three months and you were still on edge ready to run at a moments notice and Clark is beside himself with worry, it was time Martha nipped this in the but once and for all. Grandma always knows best.

Warning: Angst, Swearing, Past Trauma,  Panic attacks

A/N: so this one is very angsty the next chapter should be happier and a little humor but I wanted to have this final 'melt down' I hope you enjoy it xxx

Taglist: @sofiebstar​ @thefangirlsblog​ @gooseyhouse​ @charliestufff​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @loserrlauraa​  @cheeseman​

The potting shed was old and rickety, Clark and Konner were going to fix it up over the weekend well fix it up; they were going to knock out all the panels and put perspex glass over it making a humongous diy green house,  they were going to home depo to order the glass tomorrow, but for now it was perfect shelter for the older plants. Around six weeks ago Martha had dragged you in here to plant your first ever plants. It had been fun, poking tiny holes and planting the seeds you were out here everyday watching,waiting for a shoot! But after a week you had gotten bored and stopped looking until she had told you of the first few leaves of spinach had popped through...It seemed within days of that all your plants had sprouted, none had died and to say you were proud was an understatement. You loved watching them grow something about caring for the fragile plants watering and feeding them pellets and tending them was soothing in a way. Whenever you got to overwhelmed you'd come out to the shed and take care of them, it was a place you could escape all...Except grandma. Martha had all but exiled the boys when she noticed Clark pestering you inside. she could see that gardening was becoming a solace for you, something you did without a care and she was pleased. You moved slowly behind Martha as she showed you how to dead head some of the plants and curb the tomato's so that you got less leaves and more fruit. You watched fascinated as she made quick work of the tall tomato plants plucking the new budding stems that would only produce leaves that would shade the fruit so it couldn't ripen. She turned looking to you concerned today she planned to air out a few things with you it was high time you had a little heart to heart.Three months. Three long months and still you held back Martha was worried, you hadn't settled, well you had but you were still skittish ready to run at a moments notice. They hoped you'd be more relaxed but it would seem you were the opposite more guarded and secretive and not once had you referred to them as family. It saddened her, konner had let slip that you were frightened of hurting someone...Namely her. But the woman trusted you. Clark was beside himself he didn't understand what he needed to do he was a father...Your father and he hadn't a fucking clue! Martha had decided it was time to nip these silly fears in the butt herself something tells her you needed a female touch. Clark had come to her a few days ago in floods of tears he had tried to take you shopping for clothes and you'd refused so then he offered to get a meal and when you turned that down it was coffee even though he didn't even let you drink it...He just wanted some one on one time with you he had been so excited for you to come home, he wanted a daughter...But you didn't seem to want a dad? He couldn't understand it he was lost and confused he desperately wanted you to open up to him, wanted to wrap you up in his arms and fight off all your doubts but...He didn't want to rush things, Bruce had called him out for being overbaring at first and said things take time but still he was impatient. What if you thought he didn't care because he was now giving you space? He hated the idea of you fearing being abandoned and alone again. You seemed happy on the face of it but when no one was looking your face was blank a mask hiding everything below. The longer you stayed here the more he could see you pull back you were fighting it, fighting being safe secure and happy. He couldnt get through to help neither could konner he had been trying to hard and you'd shut yourself off from him, Clark didn't want that to happen with him. It crushed him knowing you were still frightened and had decided that it would be an idea to just stay at the farm. He wanted to give you stability but he wanted you to come to him to open up and talk or or at least treat him like a father even if you didn't call him dad.

Martha moved slowly around you discreetly positioning herself between you and the door. She knew you'd try to avoid this and if you had the chance you'd run off and hide and that was not happening...Not again last time you'd been gone for a whole twenty-four hours the Clark had found you sleeping at a bus stop at two in the morning scaring the daylights out of everyone. She turned to face you a small smile was on your face as you prodded the leaves on your prized cucumber plant the first cucumbers just starting to form. "You know your dad was thinking of helping you design your room... I got a few catalogues of wallpaper and stuff...Ideas for designs from the home depot" You looked up at her blinking with a soft smile then moved slowly stepping up beside her placing your hands on the wooden Table in front of you. "He shouldn't...No point we're moving to the city again so...Yeah" Martha tilted her head letting out a breath placing the ant powder over your the cucumber plant to keep away the earwigs. "Well that was the plan...But your dad thinks it might be best to keep you and konner away from it... So your all staying here its not like he has to worry about getting to work~" she gave a sly smile and nudged you softly then frowned at your sour expression. "I didn't realize" Martha eyed you cautiously and stopped tending to the veg and turned. Then dipped down to your level you met her eyes for a second. What she saw broke her heart you were hurting and unsure still so lost. "Well now you do...So tell me what do you think you'll do to your room...I'm sure it won't be pink!" You took another deep breath poking a finger in the soil drawing a line in it. And shrugged. Its not something you thought about kids in the system didn't decorate, everything is temporary. "Don't know....Shouldn't bother...Only two years" Martha turned a placed a hand on he hip unimpressed. But you couldn't help feel she already knew that'd be your answer. "Now what the hell makes you say that? You think were gonna what? Kick you out at eighteen? Honey no that’s all behind you now...I mean christ Clarks still here and he's what thirty seven? Thirty eight" You flicked your gaze to her then back down to the spinach shoots in front of you moving the spritz them with a mix of water and dish soap helping keep away bugs. You arched over to the small container that held a mix of rock salt and crushed egg shells it helped keep away the slugs and snails. "I...Its hard I forgot what its meant to be like...In the system you just get thrown out...Go to the streets....Always weed to run or something or you can go to the sewers" Martha frowned at that "So that was your plan? You were going to be a drug runner? Or go Live in the sewers?" She asked none to impressed you felt scolded and skittish under her gaze and you didn't even see it. A mothers; in this case grandmother's disapproving gaze was felt. "I...I was a drug runner on and off...Then well I made a delivery to the Joker...He was...Frightening and I called it quits after that...Didn't want to be near the big leagues...Big people let their little people die" Martha crossed her arms this was new you never really spoke about how you survived normally brushed them off. "You ever try these drugs?" The question was meant to be casual but didn't quite hit the mark, you shook your head truthfully. "Couldn't risk it...If I reacted bad I could of...Well killed people so it just didn't seem like a good idea" she eyed you carefully and nodded she believed you. "Right well don't let you dad find out... But seriously you should think about what you want to do with your room everyone needs their own personal space" you heaved a deep breath smoothing out the layer of eggshells on the dirt covering the pot. Martha said dusting her hands off leaning on hand on her hip the other palm was flat on the table next to you.

"Okay right out with it...Come on whats going on in that mind of yours?" Her voice wasn't irritated she seemed more worried, wanting to know what was going on so she could fix it rather than to berate you for it. You swallowed moving our arms shrugging at her with a heavy sigh. "Just...I- it only been a few months not that long- things are going well now...But they might not be-I'm still dangerous my power can react at anything at anytime-" you were cut off by a clump of moist dirt hitting your cheek splatting across your lips making you spit and retch. Ew. You growled looking at her with a scowl. "Hey-what the fuck?-ugh ew no stop it!" Martha scoffed and flicked another small clump of mud at your face making you splutter spitting out the small flecks of dirt in your mouth. You looked up appalled at her wiping your tongue and she just hummed chuckling nodding a playful smile. "Yes I see it has incredible reflexes, nothing gets passed it~" you glared at her as she chuckled louder then flashed your eyes playfully and pulled at the water in the watering can urging it up the spout sending a large slosh of water over her croc covered feet she jumped back giggling lightly but stepped back to the table moving the pots back turning around leaning back on the table patting it. "Up you go darling time for a little chit chat" you frowned Your laughter dieing...This was it, they'd grown bored of you...You bit your lip preparing for the inevitable still wiping your face wanting the dirt off but obeyed sitting on the table looking down. She didn't let you for long stepping in front of you tilting your face up and pushed away a few locks of hair. "You always hide behind these curls...I wish you'd pull them out of your face and let me see my beautiful little granddaughter..." Martha spotted the eye roll and pinched you chin making you look at her. "I'm not your grand-" she frowned moving the hair to stay behind your ears then smiled. "Hush....Ah and there it is..." you frowned not following her trying to avoid her all seeing gaze "There’s what?" You bit out still expecting to be told to pack up and leave. These types of talks are never good, your being shipped off. Back to the tower not that you'd stay fuck them you never needed them. You don’t need anyone! "The doubt of a scared little girl, you hide it or you try to...But its there your eyes are a window we all see it...You think your poker face is perfect but...You Y/n L/n Kent are an open book...Clark sees it to he wants to help he loves you, I love you and so does konner" You furrowed you brows and tried shaking your head wanting to look anywhere other than her. You couldn't look her in the eye with whats coming, they stutter when you do makes it harder for them to be rid of you. "I-I don’t know what- Look I don’t need an excuse just say what you need to say!" she shook her head tutting and continued butting in before you could talk yourself into a panic. "Don’t give me that crap...You still think we're just gonna dump you off somewhere eventually...Well you better think again missy...You are my granddaughter, Clarks daughter and Konners sister and that is the end of it we love you! And nothing is going to change that y/n..." "W-What? Your...your not getting rid of me? But that’s what they do...When they want to talk" you asked heart clenching but Martha gasp seeing you trying to bottle up your devastation and anger. She turned cupping both sides of your face shaking her head looking mortified you'd think such a thing. It was then she truly saw just how much damage was there. You thought you were disposable and could be thrown away at anypoint. "No! No no of course not...Oh god sweety no listen I just-This is exactly why we need to talk my love...We are never ever abandoning you...My god your ours! And you are never going anywhere! We love you but we...We don't really know what you need you never ask for anything love...But your here and that's it you belong here with us" you blinked rapidly you couldn't help but buy it, believe maybe foolishly that this time it was the real deal. You whimpered trying to save face wiping away the tears before they shed. "B-but my power-" you started to argue but was quickly shushed as she held a finger to your lips and rolled her eyes with a light hearty chuckle. "Makes you no more dangerous then Clark or Konner now enough...I don't care, and I don't want to hear it anymore...You hear me? You are not going to attack me at all we all know that by now...Your breaking your fathers heart, he knows you still feel unsafe here and your just waiting to be abandoned again and its not happening...Now this afternoon you and your dad are gonna sit down and look at some ideas for you room which you are both going to redecorate together over the weekend. A few days bonding with him will do the world of good and might make you finally accept that you are going no where" you looked down with a deep sigh and picked at the loose splinters of wood on the table pulling thin strands of the wood.

"He loves you, you silly girl we all do...I know you still have your original bag packed stuffed between the desk and wall, it's how we found you last time" you snapped your head up to her what? Your bag gave you away? She shrugged to you with a cheeky grin. "Oh what you think that phone's been magically charging itself for three months? I've been charging it and your uncle Bruce may have tracked it for us to find you quicker...Having your dad flying all over smallville in the state he was when you went missing wouldn't have been very subtle...He'd have ripped the place to shreds and terrified the locals" you blinked at her. He was actually worried?  You thought it'd been an act. you flushed heart tingling and warming when the thought of someone caring enough about you to worry when you vanished. "I hope that soon you will unpack it...Clark is...He is at a loss he wants to get to know you but doesn't want to push he is frightened he would chase you off...Just please talk...Whatever it is we can help we just want you to be happy and safe" you looked down sadly unsure how to express yourself. The Kents had been brilliant but you just...Something made it hard for you to let go of the past. Your Mum and Dad the ones you couldn't save who died whilst screaming...They had called out for you! for you to save them but you couldn't you were weak...Defenseless even with this gift you couldn't protect them...A life time of guilt a life time of being alone, telling yourself that you can't lose people if you don't have them around you. How could you explain that? how did you explain it wasn't what you'd do necessarily it was also what if you couldn't help? couldn't save them? tears welled in your eyes at the thoughts and you sighed shuddering a breath. Martha moved closer standing between your knees and hugged you pulling you to her shoulder holding you tight rubbing your back hushing you and suddenly for the first time you cried. You sobbed gut wrenching cries into her. Until then the only other person to hold you had been Clark and that had been to prove a point. You moved trying to pull back apologizing for snotting all over her but she was having none of it she held tighter petting your hair softly kissing your head. "Hey?...Its okay...I got you baby we got you...You don't have to be frightened anymore...Or alone we are here for you...We are my love I promise" you shook your head still weeping into her the flood gates opened and you let loose. Martha was happy and gutted, she knew you needed to get this out but at the same time it was difficult to hear you shatter like this. A normally stoic sarcastic unshakeable and frankly stressed out teen finally cracking masks dropping and finally opening up, showing the true terrified little girl she really was. "But its bad!...I shouldn't-youll just!? and like the rest I cant-I wont!!" You fought to maintain an even voice but failed miserably spitting out the words rushing them with broken sobs. Martha was quick to ask she needed to know whats going on, needed to reassure you to fix the issues if she could. "Whats bad pumpkin? What's wrong sweety?" Her voice was calm a gentle lull that aimed to sooth you and draw the truth from you. "...M-My parents they-they died!...I tri-ed they y-yelled for help-to me THEY CALLED OUT TO ME! and I didn't...I couldn't and on the beach...It was my fault! mine...If I'd held on they could have made it!! and-and now with you guys! I wont be able to...I can't.? Youll die! And itll be my fault! Its always my fault...And then its- I don't want to replace them-my real parents" You shook your head no. you tried pulling back again this time Martha let you and moved holding either side of your face as fat tears still streamed down your face. You cried harder coughing and hyperventilating choking on your own sobs panicked looking for a way out. She held steady holding both hands firmly on your face well aware of the earth beneath her feet moving sifting like sand but she ignored it, her grandbaby needed her and so she began talking you through the attack.

"shh shh calm yourself down...Thats it its okay...Your alright I've got you...I've got you baby... Good girl see thats it a little more...Deeper breaths in then out...Good" Martha held her breath as you coughed a few more times your breathing was fast but you were calmer your tears still flowing freely but it was a soft quiet crying as opposed to the borderline hysterical sobs moments ago. That was it the final piece to the puzzle, you didn't want to disrespect your real parents by accepting new ones- or in this case a new father. And you felt responsible for there deaths carrying that type of guilt wasn't healthy for anyone. "...Okay...Okay baby...Grandma understands now...It wasn't your fault...None of this was your fault and don't you think otherwise ever...Your parents loved you and were probably yelling for you to hide and stay still...And the beach that wasn't your fault the atlanteans did that...They tried to declare war honey...If you wanted to I'm sure your uncle Arthur would talk to you about it...He felt guilty when he found out" you gasped and shook your head panicked at her.

"No! It wasn't his fault" she smiled at that he'd be happy to know according to Clark the man was beating himself up over it. She'd have to mention something to Clark to get the message across. "Or yours love...You couldn't have known what was going to happen...No one did we didn't-Clark didn't" You sucked in a deep breath and shook your head and opened your mouth to argue that you should have been stronger. "No no...I'm not done love...Do you think your mum and dad would want you to be alone?...Isolate yourself and refuse to live with a new family? That they want you to be unhappy?..I'm not asking you to forget them but its been a long time and maybe its time to accept that another family wants to be yours to protect you and guide and love you in your parents stead" you frowned wiping your face in vain as the tears still poured. "B-But what about you?- what if I can't save you? or Konner or-or" Martha shook her head at you chuckling raking her hands through your hair over and over in a soothing motion. "You don't have to...You don't have to save us love...Your dad is superman there isn't a lot he can't over come and konner is just behind him...And if anything ever happens here I'll have all three of you...Please don't make yourself unhappy in fear of loosing us, we aren't going anywhere" you blinked at her but gave a small smile Martha relaxed and hugged you again giving you one last kiss on your forehead. "Really? I'm- I don't need to....I wont be alone?" she shook her head at you somehow getting this off your chest made you fell lighter, it was freeing. You nodded thoughts still racing, no one ever took the time to really listen but it- Martha made sense your parents wouldnt want you to be alone would they? even if it was your fault which you still belived it was...They probably were crying out for you to hide, they must have known what was happening and only managed your name befor everything collapsed...The beach, well that was...It was war or the start of one. Seeing that she had gave you a lot to think about she patted your shoulders and nodded to the house. "Go have a shower and relax, we can plant these in the garden tomorrow...Just chill for today okay?" you gulped and slipped off the table to the floor slowly and turned timidly to hug her taking her by surprize you moved up on tip toes kissing her cheek and pulled away. "Thank you Grandma...That-You made sense" and with that you ran off letting the door slam behind you on your way out sprinting to your room. 

It took a while but after a few days of deliberation you finally come to terms with everything. Nothing else had been mentioned about it over the past few days, well things had been pretty normal but you'd been thinking alot. Martha made a lot of sense it wasn't a eurica moment but it had switched you on. Maybe it was time to move on...You'd never forget your parents you'd never stop loving them but maybe...Maybe you could love your new family to. That’s what they were...What they were trying to be a family it was just you that was the problem, to cut off and dare you say 'emotional stunted'. No one had ever just let you unload onto them like that before, by the time you were due to start therapy you were already in the hospital being sedated under the mental health act. You never had anyone to talk to and by the end of that ordeal you'd found a way to deal with it, reasoned with your own guilt and had your own take on what happened. Maybe this could be a new start...Its never to late right? Maybe you should just start interacting instead of avoiding them, you and konner got on you were friends but Clark and Martha...You'd tried not to be around them much. No point getting under their feet besides you didn't need to many attachments if you were completely honest talking to konner was just so you didn't go mad, you needed atleast one person to talk to. It was late on friday morning when Martha and Konner had left to go shopping. You woke up to Martha placing some more design magazines on your desk by the door. Grandma you mentally corrected yourself had said she was going out and would be back around dinner time with take out. She must have brought them up to try and sway you, wanting you to make the first move with..Dad. You hadn't approached him yet still nervous and every time you did get a bit of spine Konner was there to you didn't want to make a fool of yourself. She winked at you and nodded, it will be fine. Once she left you sat up skimming through the book's quickly then looked about the room you were in, it was spacious and at the back of the house...You hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with it at all, you’d never done this sort of thing before. You felt silly but it was kind of a big thing for you...The finality of making your mark on the house. It was daunting. You held the catalogues in your lap for a moment looking around...You should probably paint it your favorite color right? but what was your favorite color?...It had been so long since you thought about stuff like that you were stumped. You moved slowly to the door magazines in hand, it was time to start trying. You padded down the stairs timidly and peeked through the banister, Clark was in the kitchen sitting at the table. You sat on the step for a few seconds taking deep breaths watching him from between the wooden spokes in the banister then nodded you moved and hovered by the door. He looked tired reading the paper before him drinking his coffee. He must be tired there was an incident in india last night..Landslide he was there for a few hours digging out survivors and that says alot considering who he was. You crept up behind him and stood awkwardly curling your toes.

"Err clar-Dad?" He froze shoulders going rigid and turned slowly blinking a few times, he was shocked but happy? A grin spread across his face making his eyes practically glow. He swallowed placing down the paper he was reading. "Y-yes? Whats up?" You could see a slight tremble as he was trying to contain himself. You moved and sat next to him and placed the magazines on the table. "I err...well Grandma said that I can decorate my room...She got me these but, I've never done it and don't...I don't know what I can do or what to do...I can you help me?" He nodded quickly clearing the table he was vibrating with excitement, happy that his mother got through to you. You smiled and spread out the books. "So what do you like? Have you thought about any colors or themes" you blinked a little and flicked through the first magazine. "I like the sea" you said in a small voice sounding weird you'd never really spoke about your likes and dislikes before it was kind of irrelevant. You suddenly perked up drawing Clarks attention as you gasped seeing a few images of murals. "I...That’s cool I like the second photo...With the big mural its cool..." Clark looked over your shoulder smiling nodding it was very light and airy the room was three walls of faux white brick the final wall was a huge mural of the suspension bridge separating Gotham and Metropolis. "It is different you could have the mural on the wall across from your bed" you thought about it and smiled sheepishly nodding. "You think they have a beach one...Not like white sand and clear water...But like rocky? With forrest and stuff that sort of seaside raw and rugged..."  Clark smiled as you muttered away listing off ideas. Finally you were showing your true colours a bright and happy young girl slowly peeking out from behind her curtain of curls. "Well they should if not we can always go and take our own pictures" you gasped looking up at him shaking your head. "No no we don't...You don't have to do that..." you mumbled quickly avoiding his gaze. "Its no hassle...I do work for the daily planet I have access to some of the best cameras around...Ixm sure we could get a panoramic shot..We can fly out and find you a perfect spot it won't be that hard to scale it up and have one printed" he shrugged closing his own magazine waiting for you to answer. You twiddled your fingers it did sound fun...You'd never been anywhere before by plane the idea of going somewhere even quieter then this was very tempting you could just imagine the waves. "You can't book a holiday just so I can decorate...I'll just find one online" he chuckled at you shaking his head trying to hold back his amusement, he didn't want you to think he was laughing at you. "Oh no sweetheart I meant I will fly us out somewhere...It'll take a few minuets but there’s a great couple of island's near Vancouver extremely beautiful and lush there should be some good places there " you faltered then flushed. Oh yeah he can fly...Over the past few months you kind of forgot he was superman he was just Clark to you...Now dad. You took a breath. It was weird saying dad again. But you didn't feel bad about it just uneasy, what if he was doing this just to make sure you don't loose your mind and turn on them...Was that it? There must be a reason.

"Hey honey whats wrong? Gone all quiet all of a sudden, if you don't want to I can always ask your uncle Arthur to take a photo for us...Hell he might even have a few of his buddies photo bomb for you" Clark added trying to lighten the mood but secretly he was worried. Your happy dispositions had gone and you looked ready to run off and hide again. He was a little disappointed at the prospect of not being able to fly you off and spend a father daughter day at the beach, but these things would take time. "No no we can go! I want to go! it's just...I err forgot you were...That you could...Your just normal around here and just feel a little silly...I've also never been flying like at all and its just a little daunting" Clark grinned placing a hand on your shoulder squeezing it lightly. He was relieved you did want to spend time with him you were shy that was all. "That’s not silly at all and I promise flying with me is the safest way, I wont drop you, I'll never drop you, you can count on it...How about we go tomorrow afternoon? I can go borrow a camera from the office in the morning" you smiled into your lap twisting your t-shirt in your fingers nodding quickly trying to keep your nerves at bay. "Really? That's err fast and what about konner and grandma? Won't they want to come?" Clark's heart melted and burst all in one hearing you worry over your brother and grandmother. He was finally at ease. This wasn't a ruse you did think of them as family you did already love them. He'd ask his Ma about what was said but he doubts she'll tell him. But even if she didn't he's forever grateful to her because what ever was said has finally worked and for the first time he can truly say he felt like you'd accepted him as your new father and that meant the world to him. "Well they might but I have it on good authority that whilst we are having our father daughter weekend. Ma and konner are going to have fun of there own and spend the weekend in the city 'living it up' I have no doubt in my mind that they will be making good use of my savings...I have a feeling konner is going to wrangle himself a new xbox..." you looked down nervously the whole weekend? Alone with him. He moved his hand to ruffle your hair. "Hey...Its okay like I said we don't have to go flying, we do have to go to home depo tho ma still wants her makeshift greenhouse." You frowned he sounded defeated you turned facing him eye steely determined not to chicken out. This had to work, this was your home and you had to try harder. "I want to though...A-and like you said...You wont drop me I'd rather go flying for the first time with you rather then konner...He'd drop me just to catch me again and I'd probably piss myself" you muttered akwardly. "Then its settled! Tomorrow we go to the beach and take photos for your bedroom! Do you have a swimsuit? And some summer clothes it might be hot there and pack some suncream I wont have you burning! If you forget it your staying in the shade~" you smiled meekly at him nodding you did have a few summer clothes, some cotton shorts and a vest top should be fine. "Good you can pack a bag in the morning" he added grinning ear to ear finally feeling as though he had a chance to step in. You had opened the door and it was his job to make it stay that way. You crouched over the books with him feeling more and more confident as you began pointing out things in the books that you liked with him finally relaxing with him. Then it hit you like a truck. This really was it! Your very own room, your own home and a proper family.

You felt yourself getting choked up windpipe closing tightly only managing a few small hums in agreement as he pointed out different things colors and diy ideas. You took a deep breath trying to swallow the lump away from your throat. It was when tears blurred your vision and you sniffled trying to hold it back that Clark made his move wrapping you up in his arms all but dragging you out of your chair onto his lap. You wriggled trying to be released more out of habit then actually wanting to get away but he held firm tucking your head into his shoulder shushing you. "Your alright...I've got you I promise" he didn't speak after those words letting them sink in, he didn't need to say more then that his message was clear. You'd been accepted the fear and anxiety was melting away in one huge mass of relief as he just held you close one arm pinning you to him the other moving grabbing the pen that lived on the kitchen table and a small note pad used for shopping lists. He bit the lid off the pen and began writing a small list of what you'd need to get for your room. You tucked your face into him whining pitifully for the first time in years feeling truly safe and secure.

[welcometophu]

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 4

The Meaning of Home Chapter 4

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

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Dinner is the very next night. Conor packs a bag before they leave the house, because even though it’s a Wednesday, he’s determined that he can sleep over. He doesn’t seem to care about permission, assuring Pawel that they do this all the time and it’ll be fine.

Pawel figures he’ll make sure Colt and Leo are okay with it at some point.

Somehow. If he can get a word in edgewise.

The Papa/Harrison household is sheer chaos. They arrive at six, a lanky boy with a mop of light brown hair yanking open the door before Conor reaches the doorbell. He stands as tall as Pawel’s shoulder, but his face still has a soft roundness. His gaze stays on Pawel, brows slightly furrowed as he says, “Emma’s in her room. Jennie’s been bugging her.”

“Thanks, Matt.” Conor slips by him and disappears down the hall Pawel can see to the left.

Pawel can’t step inside without going through Matt; he’s blocking the door just enough. “Can I come in?” Pawel asks.

“Matt, let Pawel through the door!” Leo’s voice comes from somewhere deeper in the house.

“He stinks like Conor.” Matt steps back, pulling the door open. “Can I go over to Luke’s tonight?”

“We’re having dinner, and you already know that.” 

That’s not Leo speaking. No, definitely not. Slightly shorter than Pawel, his hair perfectly coiffed, his cheekbones softened from the sharpness he’d had as a teenager, his tie askew and his lavender sleeves rolled up… Pawel catalogs all the similarities and differences in Colt after a decade.

“Fine.” Matt disappears and a long-tailed grey rat slinks out of the room between Colt’s feet.

There’s a shriek and a clatter from the room beyond. “Jesus fucking Christ! Matt!” a girl yells out. “Do that one more time and I’m going to step on you if Duke—no, Duke, please keep stirring, oh God, we’re already late, and I promised we’d get everything done on time, and this was going so well.”

“It’s okay, Nevaeh. And language.” Leo’s low rumble shakes Pawel out of his stillness.

Pawel turns and carefully closes the door, and when he looks back, Colt is still there. He stands in the doorway, shoulder against the jam, arms crossed.

“What?” Pawel asks.

“The first time I saw it, I thought I was imagining things.” Colt’s voice is deeper than Pawel remembers, a low rumble, musing as Colt tilts his head, staring at Pawel. “On the other hand, the first time I met Conor, I knew he had to be your son, even before Emma introduced him.”

Pawel is not used to being the one off-balance in a conversation. “What?” he asks again.

“Your aura is distinct.” Colt unfolds himself. Every step towards Pawel is deliberate and slow, as if he’s being stalked. Colt might be a couple inches shorter, but he still manages to give the idea that he’s looking down at Pawel when he’s close. “Most people have one dominant underlying color, with flickers for their current state of mind. You’re a constantly shifting shower of opalescent sparkles, like you’re trying to be invisible, and be the brightest thing in the room at the same time. It’s disconcerting. I thought I was going nuts when we were in high school and you started shimmering.”

He might be following this. “You Emerged in high school?” Pawel asks. “You never said anything.”

“Neither did you,” Colt points out.

“I, uh,” Pawel waves a hand at his head, not sure exactly where Colt’s seeing these sparkles. It’s not like Jennie, that’s for certain. Pawel rarely sparks visibly, unlike Conor, who does it all the time when he’s with Alan. “It’s very possible I was Talented before I knew it, but as far as I’m concerned, I really Emerged when I got to PHU and was surrounded by a very large amount of both Lineage and Emergent Talent. The start of fall semester wasn’t easy for me, and if it weren’t for—”

Colt raises an eyebrow when Pawel cuts off. He’s apparently oblivious to the banging in the kitchen behind him or the constant stream of chatter from someone Pawel guesses is Nevaeh. “If it weren’t for…?” he prompts.

“Long story.” The last thing Pawel wants to go into detail about is Chelsea, when he’s currently standing in the house owned by both his high school sweethearts. “I met a Lineage Mage who helped me get through my Talented growing pains and get myself under control.”

“Glad you had help.” Colt turns as he hears his name from the kitchen.

“Set the table,” Leo calls out. “We are actually almost done. Nevaeh, the bread is fine. Please go find Matt. He might be in the crawlspace again. Duke, carry the butter out to the table; do not attempt to float it again. Nevaeh, after you find Matt, get the kids from wherever they’ve disappeared to. Tell Jennie that yes, we expect her to eat dinner. Donuts were not dinner.”

Pawel follows as Colt heads towards a room that looks like it was once a porch, built off the side of the house. It’s cool and bright, windows open and ceiling fans hanging from the sloped ceiling, blowing down on them. As a dining room, it’s a little cramped. Built-in benches line both the longer walls, the table fit between them, and there’s a door at the other end of the porch as well. Squished as it is, Pawel can see that they can likely fit 10-12 people around the table; there’s just no space for much else.

Colt pulls a stack of plates out of the cabinet at one end of the room and hands them to Pawel. He has to slide down the bench to be able to reach and lay out enough plates, napkins, and silverware for the six children and three adults. He assumes that Leo and Colt will take the chairs at either end of the table, so he leaves himself a plate on one long side of the table.

“I take it Jennie has a sugar problem,” Pawel says. It’s not really a question; he saw how she devoured the donuts at the store.

“It’s not so much a problem as a need.” Colt takes a pitcher from a solemn-faced teen who appears just long enough to make the delivery before he disappears again. “We’ve had her checked several times; the doctors are concerned by the amount she consumes, but it seems to be a part of her Talent. She’s a real-life animated sparkle princess.” He puts the pitcher on the table, sliding it as close to the center as he can get.

“It’s—” Colt cuts off, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m glad you’re okay. When I heard about—we were worried. Leo and I. Conor’s a good kid. He’s welcome here any time. Not like he’ll add much more chaos to the house.”

“I add just the right amount of chaos,” Conor says, sliding onto the bench on the other side. He moves all the way to the middle, Emma next to him, and Jennie next to her. “You love me.”

“Conor,” Pawel warns.

“It’s okay. Like I said, he’s welcome here any time.”

“I like him better than Matt and Duke.” The girl is at his elbow so abruptly that Pawel wonders if she teleported in, like Mac. This must be Nevaeh. She’s wearing an old PHU hoodie, despite the warmth already encroaching in late May. Her hair is pulled back in braids, held in a twist low against her neck, and the shape of her dark-skinned features reminds Pawel abruptly of Jennie. For all that there’s a dozen years between them, it’s clear what Jennie will grow to look like as a teen.

She leans past Pawel to put a large bowl of risotto, laden with broccoli and colored a bright yellow, on the table. “Hi. I’m Nevaeh. You’re Pawel.”

“Mr. Szczek,” Colt corrects her.

“You have to major in Magical Studies at PHU before you earn the right to call me Pawel.” The joke falls flat when he says it, Nevaeh staring at him with a studied gaze, while Colt rolls his eyes. “I’m a professor,” he says. “I’m also a believer in learning to pronounce names and use them correctly. They have power.”

“That’s a fairy tale,” Nevaeh scoffs. “Most of what we know about magic is just a fairy tale.”

“Fairy tales come from somewhere,” Pawel replies. It’s easy to settle into this mode, even though he can hear a long-suffering sigh from his son. “The question is: what are the roots of most fairy tale magic? How do the stories we learned as children tie into what we know about Talent today? And what don’t we know yet, that we might be able to learn by listening to the words of those who took the time to write those stories down? We found one of the keys to unlock the secret of how to save the world writ in the lines of a Clan folktale.”

“Da-ad,” Conor whines loudly. Emma snickers next to him.

“Nevaeh.” Leo’s voice is soft, but Nevaeh still straightens up, turning on her heel when he speaks. “Go help Duke bring out the rest of dinner. Pawel, why don’t you sit down next to Conor. Since Nevaeh couldn’t, I’m going to hunt for Matt, then we can eat.” Leo’s gaze falls on Colt, and Leo reaches to bridge the distance between them, fingers tight on Colt’s shoulder.

Pawel looks away.

“Sit,” Leo says.

The chair scrapes as Colt pulls it out and falls into it. When Pawel glances at him, Colt has a hand over his face, fingers pressed against his eyes. “Sit.” Colt echoes the phrase, the single word muffled by the palm of his hand.

Fine.

Pawel sits on the edge of the bench, aware of Conor next to him, turned to be forehead to forehead with Emma as they talk quietly. At the other end, Jennie sits, her feet kicking hard enough that the bench sways slightly with every movement.

Leo returns to drop a mouse on the end of the bench nearest his chair. Matt reappears, scowling as he leans on the table, then sticks his tongue out at Jennie.

“If you make enough faces, I get two desserts and you get none,” Jennie says mildly.

Duke must be the solemn-faced silent boy. He slides into the center of the bench Matt already occupies, setting a platter in front of him. When Matt reaches out, Duke pushes the platter closer to Pawel.

“You can wait,” Leo says, and for a moment, there’s a glint of amusement in Duke’s expression.

“I did two whole loaves of bread.” Nevaeh slides one basket down the table, and as soon as it settles to a stop in front of Matt, he grabs out a slice of bread and rips into it. “I hope it’s enough. I mean, Matt can eat half a loaf on his own and Duke’s always hungry and you’re all boys so you all eat a lot, but it’s not sugary so maybe—Jennie, put that down, it’s not dessert yet, how did you even get that?”

Jennie blinks, a brownie in her hand. “It was on the counter in the kitchen. I brought it with me in case you forgot.”

Leo holds out a napkin spread across his hand, and Jennie places the sweet there. Leo puts it down within her reach, but not in front of her plate. “Dinner first.”

“Yes, it’s always like this.” Colt smiles when Pawel looks at him, and there are laugh lines in the corners of his eyes, too. Pawel remembers Colt laughing, but it was always in those rare, unguarded moments. Now it looks like he might laugh more often. The smile seems easy, too, as Colt watches Nevaeh take a piece of chicken from the platter, then nudge it closer to Colt. “We thrive on chaos in this household.”

“Conor fits in perfectly,” Nevaeh says, pointing a fork at him. “He eats too much, runs everywhere, and he almost caused a fire once.”

“Conor—” Pawel starts.

“I did not!” Conor protests. “She’s exaggerating. There were a few sparks, and they don’t make fire, there was just all this confetti around because Jennie was doing a project, and Duke helped, and it was like it exploded just when I sparked.”

Nevaeh jabs her fork in his direction as if to say, “see?” 

This is absolutely alien to Pawel. He’s never been to a family dinner this large. His life was him and his father and mother. He has vague memories of his father’s parents before they passed away when he was small, and he never did know his mother’s parents. She claimed to have emerged from the forest created from magic, and these days he wonders how truthful that might have been.

Probably not, but all the same, he thinks she had her reasons for cutting ties, even if he doesn’t know what they were.

Once his mother was gone, it was him and Dad, and they made do.

It was never anything like this. Not even close.

Pawel accepts the food passed to him, adding risotto, chicken, and bread to his plate. He lets the conversation swirl around him, not trying to focus on any one particular thread but instead letting it all trickle into his brain and take root there. He was never known as a child for sitting quietly in the corner, but he’s learned how to observe since then. How to sit back and absorb information for his subconscious to parse for him.

He may have no idea what’s going on in the moment, but chances are he’ll wake up in the hours before dawn with a sudden hypothesis.

Not that this is academic research that he needs to pick apart and find a solution for. This is merely a family dinner. For a family that is not his own.

Duke and Matt seem to race to see who can finish first. Nevaeh wasn’t exaggerating about their appetites; between them, an entire bowl of sliced bread disappears, along with healthy servings of risotto and chicken. As soon as he’s done, Matt grabs his empty plate and Duke’s and slides from the bench, announcing, “Gaming,” as he walks off. Duke waits half a beat before following him.

“One moment they’re mortal enemies, the next they’re best friends,” Colt murmurs. “I think it’s because we make them share a room. Don’t worry, you’ll hear Matt yelling again soon enough.”

“Does Duke…?” Pawel’s not sure how to word it politely. He trails off as Leo and Colt exchange a look. Maybe he should drop that line of questioning.

“Bedtime!” Nevaeh announces cheerfully. “Or well, time to get ready so you can play before bed.”

Conor looks up from his still half-full plate. “I—” He stops abruptly, making a face. “Fine, no talking, just eating. I know.” He and Emma both tuck into their dinners.

Jennie nibbles delicately around the edges of her brownie. Her plate is clean, but Pawel has no memory of her eating any actual food. “I need another brownie before I brush my teeth.”

“You do not need another brownie,” Colt says firmly. “And you do need to brush your teeth.”

“You’re sparkly enough for tonight.” Leo slides a hand over her head and she smiles up at him. “Any more and you’ll shine so bright you’ll keep Emma and Conor up.”

“I’m a star,” Jennie whispers. She tucks the remaining half of the brownie in her mouth in one go, chewing as she slides off the bench. She says something that might be “let’s go” but Pawel can’t tell for sure through her full mouth.

“Done!” Emma says, slapping her fork on the table at the same time as Conor. They both slide off the bench and under the table, emerging on the other side. “We’re going to get brownies. We’ll see you upstairs.” She grabs Conor’s hand and races out.

A moment later there’s an annoyed shriek. “Matt! Duke! You took all the brownies!”

Footsteps thunder up the stairs. Pawel wonders if anyone’s going to intervene, but Colt sits there cutting another bite off his chicken, and Leo just glances at Nevaeh.

“I’ll make sure no one dies, and that Jennie doesn’t steal another brownie from the boys,” Nevaeh replies. “They’d better not have eaten them all. I haven’t had one yet and I made them.” She holds out a hand and Jennie tucks her hand into it. “Oh and—tomorrow I have my last driving lesson and Mr. Storm thinks I ought to get more practice before I get my license so we need to make the appointment for my test and I need some help because I can’t practice on my own, so maybe think about who wants to take me driving, okay? I really need a lot more night-time practice, and probably some regular daytime practice, too. And he said if I’m going to be driving the kids around at all I should practice with them in the car, because kids are distracting.”

“Colt’s in court tomorrow, so I’ll take care of getting in touch with Mr. Storm to get the details,” Leo promises. “Kids ready for bed now, please. And stick around upstairs and make sure no fights break out, and that homework actually has gotten done.”

“But I could—” Nevaeh makes a face halfway through the sentence and she grumbles under her breath. “Adults only. Got it.” She makes her exit quickly, yelling, “You’d better still have a brownie for me!” as she races up the stairs.

“She thinks she’s an adult,” Colt says, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

“I remember what I was doing at her age, and right now I’m glad she doesn’t have her license yet,” Leo admits. “But yeah, we’re going to need to talk about that. We’ll squeeze it in somehow. At least she managed to get through driver’s ed with the school.”

“I can help.”

They’re both staring at him before Pawel realizes he’s the one that said that. Well, shit. He’s not supposed to be getting involved, and taking their eldest foster out driving is definitely involved.

Then again, his kid is practically living here. He’s already involved.

“You’ve taken in my kid half the time,” Pawel continues, trying to get this back on track. Colt’s brow is furrowed, like he’s waiting for Pawel to name a price. He can’t read Leo at all, but then, Leo perfected that blank expression long ago so it isn’t that much of a surprise. “I owe you. And if I learned how to drive a Jeep, I can help teach how to drive a normal car.”

“She needs practice in the minivan,” Colt says slowly.

“I drive a sedan, and I’m assuming you’ll both have your cars at work,” Pawel replies. “She can start with my car. If it’s better for her, I could walk down and pick up Leo’s car from the station. It’s—” He spreads his hands. “Conor’s apparently staying over tonight. You’ve helped a lot. I owe you both.”

Colt’s brow furrows deeper, the lines etched across his forehead. Pawel wants to reach out and smooth them. This is fine. It’s all going to be fine. There’s no need to stare at him like there’s a thunderstorm brewing over his head.

“Thank you.” 

Leo’s soft words seem to break Colt’s concentration. Colt sits back, looking down at his plate. “Yeah, thanks,” he echoes. “It’ll be a help. We’ve both got long hours, and while we’ve balanced it as much as we can, it’s usually one of us being overrun by five kids. I get them on the buses in the morning, so Leo can get in early for his shift. Nevaeh and the boys take the bus home, and Leo picks up Emma and Jennie after school. We don’t have a lot of extra room for new activities.”

“Between teaching, grading, Coven, and the PHU taekwondo club, I’m running ragged when it comes time to get Conor to and from school, as well as to his taekwondo classes. I lean on our neighbors a lot,” Pawel says. “You know me. I hope you still trust me. Feel free to lean on me while I’m here.”

“While you’re here,” Colt echoes.

That is a point. Pawel will go back to PHU in the fall for classes. But that’s several months away.

An enraged, shrill shriek cuts through the house. “I need to sparkle!”

Colt and Leo exchange a look. Leo bellows, “No more brownies, Jennie. Brush your teeth!”

Pawel doesn’t even try to hide his snort of laughter. “So,” he says. “You have five kids. Talented kids.  I’ve heard a little about how this got started from Dad. I uh… Dad and Leo both mentioned Lucy and Rowan, and I know them, too.” At the confused look Colt leverages, Pawel adds, “Their kids are at PHU. I’m planning to go see them in concert this weekend.”

“We’ve told Lucy that we’ll take any more kids she sends our way, but if there are more, we’re either going to need to have them start sharing beds, or get a bigger house.” Leo glances at the stairs. “We’ve already got Matt and Duke in together, and Jennie shares with Emma. Nevaeh’s got her own room, because we moved into the old playroom over the garage when Emma arrived.”

Colt rests a hand on the table, Leo mirroring the gesture at the other hand. Pawel’s fairly certain that if they were next to each other they’d be touching.

“I know what it’s like to Emerge,” Colt says quietly. “And I know what it’s like to feel adrift in a sea of normalcy. My brothers aren’t Talented, neither are my parents. I’m the only one.”

“Did they…?” Pawel can’t imagine Colt’s parents kicking him out over it, but he also hasn’t talked to them in years. He doesn’t know how they feel about the Emergence and the knowledge that magic is real.

Colt shakes his head. “No, but things were awkward. Still are, sometimes, but they’re good with the kids. I think my mom considers Nevaeh a daughter she didn’t have. She’s only six or seven years younger than Jacob.” He pauses, and Pawel nods to say that yes, he does remember Colt’s youngest brother. Colt glances at Leo, with a soft huff. “Leo’s parents are better, of course. I mean. What’s another kid or five in that house?”

“There were only seven of us.”

“Spanning fourteen years. Nevaeh and Bri bonded pretty well.”

Pawel doesn’t want to think about their families. About the large, welcoming families that he walked away from when he walked away from Colt and Leo.

“Conor seems to think you’ll adopt Jennie and Nevaeh,” he says.

Leo rises and slides down the other bench, ending up opposite Pawel. His legs are long enough that his feet bump Pawel’s under the table. It also lets him twine fingers with Colt on the table as they exchange a slow smile.

“It’s complicated,” Leo says. “We would, if we could, but I don’t think we will unless we can give that option to all the kids. Right now, Duke’s the only one without living parents.”

“Matt’s parents gave him up when he Emerged, and Nevaeh kidnapped Jennie from their parents because she was afraid of them. They’ve been declared unfit. And Emma… you already know,” Colt adds. He turns his hand under Leo’s, thumb sliding along the side of Leo’s palm. “She’s sure everything will change and she’ll go home.”

“And I offered to help. I—” Pawel glances at the stairs. “It’s quiet. Does that mean they’re getting along, or that they’re trying to listen in on our conversation.”

“Depends on the kid. They’ll be coming downstairs soon—” Colt cuts off at Pawel’s expression. He points to the stairs. “Those lead to the attic, which has been finished as much as we can, and is the new playroom. There’s a hall from to the old playroom over the garage, which is our room now. The kids’ rooms are all on the main floor, in the back.”

“So if you have conversations you’d rather have away from prying ears, this isn’t the time for it,” Leo murmurs. His head tilts, eyes closing for a moment. “Matt and Duke are playing games. Jennie’s talking to them. Emma and Conor are at the top of the stairs with his tablet, pretending not to listen. Nevaeh’s further down the stairs. They aren’t even trying to hide it.” His voice is low, and amused.

They haven’t talked about anything Pawel would be upset about them overhearing. But his theories on what might have happened to Emma’s parents aren’t something he wants to discuss in front of her. “Then we should save some topics for another time,” Pawel says. He takes in a deep breath, holding it for a long moment before he exhales slowly. 

He doesn’t want to talk about the past.

He doesn’t want to talk about what he’s been doing for the last year, and how that might relate to where Emma’s parents are.

He pastes on a smile that he’s sure doesn’t fool either of them. “So. Colt. I hear you argue for a living now. How does that work with the whole aura thing? Which I’d like to hear more about.”

“I’m not a research project,” Colt says as Leo’s eyebrows rise.

“What has my dad been telling you?” Pawel’s not that bad. Is he?

“Everything,” Leo says dryly. He squeezes Colt’s hand. “Catch Pawel up,” he tells him. “It’s been a while. We’re not the same people we were in high school. None of us are.”

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[anon-rebel-writes]

Of Pink Fairies and Teenage Boys - 2

Hi everyone! I hope your day has been going well!

The second chapter is finally here! I’m really sorry for the long wait! I found myself writing the future chapters instead of the chapter that I needed to upload XD

This part is a bit shorter than what I wanted it to be, but I still like it! I hope you enjoy it too!

It begins under the cut! <3 Ao3 Link

Soft humming pulled Luka out of his sleep. He turned his head towards the sound and saw Marinette floating around, cleaning and tidying his room. Marinette, the fairy girl, because his life totally needed more chaos than normal.

She must’ve heard him shuffling around because she whipped her head to him and flew up to his face. “Good morning, Monsieur Couffaine! How was your rest?” Luka managed to sit straight and wiped his face quickly to help wake himself up. Usually he would wake up with his back feeling strained, but surprisingly he felt pretty good.

Well maybe not surprisingly, Marinette probably had something to do with his relaxed body, seeing as her magic is what made him fall asleep. But he couldn’t help feeling bad about it all, this poor girl was using her magic on him. Suddenly his mind filled with cloudy thoughts, he was supposed to help people, not the other way around.

Taking a deep breath, he plastered a smile on his face for her. “It was great! I’m feeling a lot better now. I don’t want to bother you anymore than I already have, so you can leave if you need to.” Marinette gave him a big pout for her little body, her hands landed on her hips as she glared at him.

“Monsieur Couffaine, I’m not leaving you. I can feel how unhappy you still are. Fairies can detect emotions very easily, especially human emotions, you’re all so transparent with your feelings.” His facade disappeared and he ran his hands through his hair. “Right. Sorry, I just don’t like bothering people,” he looked down at his lap and let his hands play with the fraying hem of his shirt.

With his head down, he couldn’t see her pout disappearing and a sympathetic look took over. Before she could give him encouraging words, loud groaning came from the other side of the divider. Luka’s eyes flew wide open and he tried to grab Marinette to hide her. “Miss Fairy! You have to hide!” The divider flew wide open and a very dazed Juleka appeared, “What did you just call me?”

Her sluggish eyes pierced through him as she scowled, “I’d be offended, but I’m honestly way too tired to care about it.” Luka’s eyes flew to Marinette but she set a finger on her lips and winked. He stared at her a little longer before Juleka walked over to him and the tiny fairy fazed through her body. “Dude, are you good? You’re acting weirder than usual, and you’re usually pretty weird,” Juleka squinted and leaned towards him. “You seem off.”

This was crazy. Yesterday Luka learned that fairies were real, now his fairy (his fairy, wow that sounds insane) could faze through people? And Juleka couldn’t see her? Maybe this was a dream and Marinette wasn’t even real. While a huge part of Luka wanted to scream from the utter chaos that was running through his mind, a tiny part of him was hurt.

He’s been off for a while, didn’t she notice that before? He tried to push the bad thoughts out of his mind and faked a smile for her. “Sorry, Jules. I just had a weird dream. Don’t worry about me, okay?” Although Juleka didn’t seem convinced, she also appeared too tired to argue.

She scanned him over one last time before shuffling out of the room. Once they were sure she was gone, Marinette popped in front of Luka. The bright smile on her face completely contrasted Luka’s disoriented expression. “Yeah, uh, what was that?! She can’t see you?! Are you even real?”

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully at him and sat on his shoulder. “You’re not crazy, Monsieur Couffaine. I’m hiding myself from other humans for my own safety.”

Luka narrowed his eyes at her and lifted a hand to catch her. She moved into his palm and he brought her to his face. “Hey, why do Fairies wanna help humans anyways? Didn’t you say humans were known to attack you or something?” Marinette sighed and began running her hands along the lines of his hands.

“Fairies get our magic from emotions. Human emotions are strong and powerful, so we come here to feed off of them. Negative emotions happen to be the strongest, so we come by whenever humans feel depressed. It’s a symbiotic relationship! We get the magic so we can stay alive and healthy, and you end up feeling better!”

“So if you take my negative emotions, I don’t have to feel sad again?” Luka sat back down on the bed and let her lay on his lap. He was beginning to understand the situation. She shuffled to get a better seat, “No, we don’t take the emotions away. Just- oh! Think of it as a pond with lily pads!”

And he was lost again. “Your emotions are the water, and the lily pads are the magic you give off. You’re a fish living in the water who can’t use the lily pads. So we fairies take them off the water and it helps bring light into the pond. Make sense?”

“Other than the fact that you compared me to a fish? Absolutely.”

Marinette giggled and flew out of his lap. He watched as she dove into his dresser and pulled out a pre-planned outfit for him. It was a simple t-shirt, one of the few ones he had that hadn’t been ripped, and some simple blue jeans. Luka lifted an eyebrow at her, a smirk tugged at his mouth. “You’re planning my outfits too? A fairy who loves fabric and plans outfits.”

Marinette’s face lit up and she threw the outfit at him, moving to sit down on his amp. “Looking good means feeling good! I don’t know if you could tell, but I always look good.” She pressed her hands together and gave him a little pout, “Please trust me, Monsieur Couffaine? I think the outfit looks nice...”

Her pout made his stomach do weird flips. He sighed and laid the clothes on the bed next to him. “You can call me Luka, y’know. ‘Monsieur Couffaine’ is way too fancy for me- and please don’t say that ‘Sounding Nice means Being Nice’ because I promise you, I’ll find a way to make it awkward.”

She gently shook her head and waved her hand at him. “Fine, ‘Luka’. I’ll call you whatever you want. But I’m still trying to get a feel for you, so if you don’t like the outfit, we can find something better later, okay?”

While he knew he would like it, considering how simple of an outfit it was, he still was thankful she was willing to be patient with him. He finally stood up and began fiddling with his shirt. “Just - um - Look away please?”

Marinette quickly nodded and fazed through the wall to give him privacy. But Luka was sure that her glow seemed a little brighter than normal, although it could’ve just been his imagination. Honestly after finding out that fairies were actual creatures, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore. He was still doubting Marinette’s existence.

After changing and letting Marinette inspect the outfit to make sure it was perfect, he quickly waved goodbye to Juleka and began to head out the boat. The fairy sat on his shoulder to keep up with him.

“So where are we going next? Oh, let me guess! School, right? I’ve heard about human schools. They seem so fun! I’ve always wanted to go into a school and pretend to be a human! ‘Hello my learner-person. I am a human girl, Marinette! Give me my learning please!’ How was that?! Convincing?” She was so enthusiastic about school, honestly it made him feel a little bad that he wasn’t going there.

“Very convincing. With a little more practice, you could...totally pass for a human?”

The way she wiggled her feet in delight made his cheeks burn. He couldn’t help but imagine her reactions to other human things, everything about her was so cute. “Thank you! But I don’t think I could ever actually be a human, being a fairy is way better. I’ll leave the humaning to the humans.”

They shared a small laugh before he began riding his bike to pick up his deliveries for the day. “But um- We’re not going to school. It’s the summer, school is out. I’m actually going to my job.” She hummed an acknowledgement as she held tightly to his shirt.

After collecting his first round of pizzas, he decided to let her sit in his basket. They rode in silence for a while, with the occasional gasp and excited shriek coming from Marinette as they passed some interesting humans.

“So...how long are you supposed to be with me? Not that I mind- I mean, you’re cute- Or uh, fun. Sorry, I never usually stutter like this. Not that there’s anything wrong with stuttering- wow I suck at words…” Marinette looked up at him and gave him an easygoing smile, which used to be his thing but clearly life has been against him lately.

“Well that kind of depends on you? However long it takes you to become happy, that’s how long I’ll be around. Hey, speaking of happiness and jobs and happiness for jobs, how does your job make you feel?”

Luka looked at the basket filled pizzas and the little fairy. While she was adorable, it was clear she wasn’t much better with words than he was, which comforted him a bit. Luka obviously wasn’t a huge fan of deliveries, but he needed the money. More specifically, his family needed the money. “I mean... it’s a job. I don’t think anyone’s job makes them happy. Especially not when they’re my age, most people would rather never work again, right?”

The fairy stared at the sidewalk they rode on. She seemed stuck on contemplating his question, her eyebrows were furrowed and her eyes seemed distant. “Yeah, I guess so.” Luka wanted to ask what she meant, but they reached his first delivery, a simple apartment complex. He grabbed the order and let Marinette sit on his shoulder.

Walking to the specific apartment, she stared at everything they passed in awe. She made small comments on a few people they passed and a few pictures they saw on the wall. As they got to the specific flat, they waited for the person to open the door.

“So what're your career goals?”

Luka looked at the girl and raised an eyebrow. “You’re still thinking about that?” Her eyes brightened and she quickly nodded her head. “Of course! I’m very interested in you! I mean- not interested! I am! But in a professional way! Not in a weird romantic way! Oh gosh, imagine! It’d be another Adrien situation-!” Marinette covered her mouth as she realized what she said.

His brain felt like it shut down. Interested? In me? He tried to shake away those thoughts and focused on something else she said, “Adrien situation? What’s that?”

Before the fairy could answer, the door swung open. After a quick exchange of pizza and money, they made their way back down the apartment building. “So… how about those career goals?” Luka looked at Marinette and saw she was obviously trying to avoid the previous topic.

“Well...I’m really curious about the Adrien situation. If you can’t talk about it, I understand, but I would love to know?”

Marinette grew quiet for a bit. He grew nervous that he overstepped his place. “Sorry-” “He was my friend.”

Luka sat her back down in his basket as he began riding down the sidewalk. “Friend?” She looked up at him then moved her gaze to the path ahead of them. “Well, he was more than my friend. I...might’ve had a huge crush on him...”

Fairies having crushes was definitely a strange concept, but he supposed that it made sense. Since their magic had a lot to do with emotions, it seemed reasonable that they felt love too. Although for some strange reason, his heart felt like it was tightening.

“He never felt the same way. Which was fine! I didn’t mind. But he ended up falling in love with a human girl, I think her name was Kagami? He was so...in love.” Her demeanor turned bleak as her glow dimmed. Luka was about to stop her before she started weakly laughing. “That’s okay though! I’m happy for him, really. But because she was a human, that meant he couldn’t be with her. So he gave up his powers to live in the mortal world.”

Luka made his way to the next stop, a small, cosy house. He stopped his bike and waited in front of the residence while she talked. “You can do that? Fairies can just...give up their powers? Can you get them back?” Marinette shook her head. She quickly looked around and noticed that they already made it to their next destination. “But that’s fine! Like I said, I’m happy for him! Come on, Monsieur- I mean- Luka. We should continue your job! Then you can tell me more about yourself!”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and began moving the pizzas to get this next delivery. “Y’know, I may not be a fairy and magical like you, but I’ve heard that I’m a good listener. If you ever wanted to talk- Or not, I mean you don’t have to.” His hands felt a bit clammy. Why was he feeling so strange? His chest felt like it was being pushed down, was it her magic?

Marinette flew up to his face and gave him a sweet smile. “Luka, it’s my job to make you happy. Not the other way around. Come on, let’s go! I wanna get all your sad juices outta ya!”

She flew ahead of him towards the door, completely ignoring how her words made his face change colors drastically.

The rest of the day went fairly normally, aside from a few strange stares from people they passed by. This confused Luka until he remembered that he was the only one who could see the tiny floating girl in his basket. By the time they got home, the sun was starting to set. He made his way into his cabin, seeing as his mom and sister weren’t home yet.

Once they entered his room, Marinette flew into her hoodie/bed and stretched as she snuggled into it. “Today was fun, I love learning about humans… especially about you. Your life is so fun…” Her words slowed as her glow dimmed. She seemed to be falling asleep already.

Luka rolled his eyes at her playfully before laying down on his bed himself. “Yeah, I love having you around. Having a fairy friend is pretty cool. It’s nice having someone to talk to.” Her eyes opened slightly as a lazy smile took over her face. “Fairy friend?”

He chuckled at her and pulled the hoodie a little more over her body. “Yeah, Fairy Friend.”

[loopy777]

Non-Review: Free Comic Book Day 2021 - The Legend of Korra (Also Featuring Avatar: The Last Airbender)

With all the hype around 'Suki Alone,' it looks to me like most of the fandom missed that an additional Avatar comic with a story from each cartoon's era was just released for Free Comic Book Day. You can read them for yourself on either Dark Horse Digital or Comixology where it's mislabeled as being for ages 17+ (free accounts are required for both), but I'm sure one of the reasons you all love me is because of my willingness to jump in between you and these comics like the deadly bullets they can be. Well, I'm happy to die (metaphorically) for the sake of (a little anonymous internet) love, so I'm doing a full snarky review for each ten-page story. Also, I'm bored, and it's more fun to make fun of mediocre stuff than to praise stuff I like.

It's time for me to review "Free Comic Book Day 2021 - The Legend of Korra (Also Featuring Avatar: The Last Airbender)" or more specifically "The Legend of Korra: Clearing the Air" and "Avatar: The Last Airbender: Matcha Makers."

CLEARING THE AIR

The cover makes this look like a story about Jinora and Ikki having a sibling conflict. That's a lie. The Air Sisters arguing is merely the inciting incident for Tenzin telling a story of his youth. I should note that, as inconsequential as the Air Sisters stuff is, it's actually written very well because it posits Ikki as a victim of circumstance and Jinora as a bully who terrorizes her little sister with threats of getting thrown in jail by Metalbenders for an accident, cementing the characterization from the cartoon. This is not sarcasm. I really do think Jinora is presented by LoK as a Holier Than Thou little snot who just so happened to be naturally gifted with magic spirit-powers, but for some reason the rest of the fandom doesn't agree with me.

Anyway, Tenzin comes in to find the arguing (and Meelo just running amok for the fun of it and so far these characterizations are perfect), and rather than telling Jinora to shut her stupid face, he delivers a tale of his youth about conflict resolution.

So the meat of the story is how, when Tenzin was "a few years older" than Jinora, a pair of vandals got onto Air Temple Island and burned some graffiti into the spinning-panel things that Korra will destroy out of frustration during her Airbending training. Literally, the vandals are depicted as scorching the wood with enough smoke to be seen across a plaza. Tenzin goes after the vandals and they flee across the bay back to Republic City proper (one of the vandals is a Waterbender with a surf-plank). Tenzin pursues, catches them, and attacks them hard enough to smash some dockside crates. They are all then arrested by Metalbenders and dragged before Chief Toph. She's going to let Tenzin go (yay Toph!) and throw the vandals in jail (YAY TOPH!) and makes this face, and this entire comic is worth it:

However, Aang arrives and instead arranges to forgo the jail-time in favor of an Air Nomad Conflict Resolution Ceremony. This is nice and in-character, but I'm totally with Tenzin that these vandals should have been thrown in jail. They literally burned insulting graffiti into antiques from a genocided culture. But instead, Aang demonstrates conflict resolution by having Tenzin explain why he's hurt and what needs to be done to redress the wrong. And so the vandals help Tenzin scrub the graffiti off the panels with water and rags and mops- how, I don't know, since they were literally burned.

They also do a ceremony thing where they each take turns bending their element into a central space between them to 'clear the air' (GET IT GET IT HA HA IT'S ALMOST LIKE A PUN BUT NOT), so it's a good thing they were all Benders because this is kinda racist. This fixes all the problems and everyone is friends. Yay!

In the present, though, things are not so nice, because Tenzin's kids are still screaming at and provoking each other. Korra comes in with Asami at the end to ask what's going on, and Asami says nothing, so I still think everyone is characterized with perfect consistency with the cartoon.

I made this sound silly, but (aside from the spinny-panels getting cleaned with a little water and elbow-grease, which doesn't matter because Korra will eventually blow them all up anyway), I actually like this one. It has Tenzin demonstrate how much he's always had to work to be the Perfect Air Monk that everyone expects him to be, and Aang acknowledges how this is unfair but that Tenzin will never let him down no matter what. It also has Katara come in at the end (for just one line, boo!) to acknowledge that this was an especially easy little conflict for Tenzin to practice on and he'll eventually face worse. I found it a nice adult moment in a story that's otherwise clearly aimed at 8-year-olds.

The art is good. It's simpler than the LoK cartoon, with flat colors, but it captures the story and has enough liveliness for everyone's character to come across in their look and body-language. The brief action-sequence where Tenzin attacks the vandals is well done, moving quickly but showing the full flow of the fight and every move Tenzin makes.

MATCHA MAKERS

Apparently, "Matcha is finely ground powder of specially grown and processed green tea leaves, traditionally consumed in East Asia" according to Wikipedia. I had to look that up. I'm curious how many people understood the full reference in the title, especially since these comics are aimed at kids too young to be allowed on the internet.

This is a very simple story about Iroh in his tea-shop in Ba Sing Se. He has an assistant/waitress named Feng, a new character who wears glasses, ruining the hopes and dreams of all the fanfic-writers who were so sure he'd rescue Jin from the Lower Ring. A frequent patron of the tea shop is an elegant, older lady (very clearly Upper Ring material) named Li-Mei, who cannot go a single panel without giving Iroh a HEY BIG BOY look. She is very clearly smitten. Also, I feel the need to clarify that she knows his name is Iroh, so apparently Ba Sing Se is okay with the Dragon of the West serving tea to their wealthy. I don't say that as a criticism, I'm just noting it.

That night, Iroh meets up with his friends- the Pokemon-style spirits that we saw in Legend of Korra. (I don't know if they're the actual spirits from LoK, or just new spirits in the same style. This is because I would sooner grind matcha into my eyes than rewatch Book Spirits.) He serves them his special blend of tea and talks about how he's totally into Li-Mei but isn't going to pursue it because he's feeling old and doesn't want to take a risk. At this point, I could stop describing the plot because between the title and what I've said so far, I'm sure you could figure out every single plot beat that will follow.

The next day, the spirits trip Feng so that she drops Li-Mei's tea and Iroh needs to bring a replacement, and they've drawn hearts on top of the replacement tea with foam or sugar or milk or whatever. I don't know because I've never bought tea in a place that will even put the bag in the hot water for me. Iroh gets out of the situation without starting any love-affairs and runs into the back to tell the spirits to knock it off, dudes, they're totally embarrassing him! The spirits respond by giving him a flyer for a romantic restaurant. I don't know how they got it, so I can only assume that some Upper Ringer had their mail diverted.

Iroh refuses, so when Li-Mei orders more tea and he brings it to her, the spirits hover just out of her sight and threaten to smash the furniture. I am not making that up. They literally threaten to smash Iroh's furniture unless he asks the lady out. He submits to their tyrannical threats, Li-Mei happily accepts the date, he happily accepts her acceptance, and the story comes to a close. Iroh thanks his spirits friends for opening him up to new experience, but hopes that next time (so I guess Iroh is signing up for Tinder after this?) they won't threaten his shop.

At best, I can describe this story as 'harmless.' But it's been a long week and I just got a bunch more extra work at my day job that I really don't want to do, so I'm going to go ahead and call this story 'dumb.' It's rote, leans towards humor without actually being funny at all, and turns the spirits of the setting into Pokemon. And not even the cool dragon kind.

The art is strangely stiff. The coloring is soft and nice, but the drawings seems more 'assembled' than actually drawn. I swear there are even a few panels that reminded me of 'How I Became Yours' with janky poses, horrifying expressions, and just enough resemblance to the original cartoon to make me think a screenshot was partially traced and then ruined. (I'm not accusing the artist of tracing, BTW. I wouldn't even condemn the artist for tracing if they did. I'm just describing that HIBY feeling I got.) It was so stiff that rather than hear Iroh's dialogue in Mako's rich tones, I instead imagined Greg Baldwin doing a stiff Mako-impression with no naturalism to the delivery.

This story is definitely worthy of its "Also Featuring" billing. I'd rate it below Gene Yang's Mai and Suki FCBD short stories, but above everything else he wrote for Avatar.

So there you go. Overall, this is very middle-of-the-pack for Avatar FCBD stuff. It's very much of the nature of the 'Team Avatar Tales' stuff, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Iroh story was a leftover from that project. On Free Comic Book Day, you often get what you pay for.

[angelicichor]

Wait. Requests are open? Fuck yes. Then I request Thomas bending me over stuff and fucking me into next year! Art or words man it don't matter. Its gonna be fantastic either way .My U R G E S are out of this world right now.

U… I like you. I might actually do some more….. F I L T H Y art of Tommy-boy, but I ain’t home now so that’ll have to wait. For now however… 

N//SF//W

Thomas being a bit too eager… but in a good way.Female reader for this one… sorry folks.

Enough

Summer has been a bad season in Texas, for obvious reasons - heat, dryness and dust, oh god the dust, it was everywhere, sticking to everybody’s sweat covered bodies, making it unbearable to go shirtless, but also impossible to go with anything more prude on.

In a way you had a hate-love relationship with this season, you’ve always lived in colder places, so the warmth of the sun was murdering you and seeing Charlie with his big ol’ belly pouch and old man tits out, covered in white, untamed chest hair was an ENORMOUS problem, but at the same time tis’ was the season for drinking refrigerated sodas and eating copious amounts of ice cream that Luda Mae made herself and gosh darn it was delicious.

But the most amazing stuff wasn’t any drink or a snack, no, it was the full-blown dinner date that was Thomas, abandoning his usual shirt and tie to don a simple black tank top, that clung to his chest almost perversely, showing off his robust bicep, beautifully shaped triceps, as well some of the powerful muscle of his back, his tan skin glistening with sweat as he bent over a car’s hood, opening it to check what in tarnation was wrong with Hoyt’s sheriff car, the old man being too damn lazy to do it himself, god bless him for that.

With the apron gone you also had a wonderful view of Tommy’s firm legs and thick ass, stretching the material every time he’d bend over to reach inside the machine. It looked so damn squeezable, but you knew better than to interrupt the man at work, knowing that Luda would be over you in a second, scolding you for not working yourself. You loved her, but how could she NOT understand that her son was a god damned gem and you NEEDED to take a closer look at him.

He seemed oblivious to your hungry gaze coming from the porch, unaware how his form made your heart flutter and your gut heat up thinking of all the wonderful things that behemoth could do to you and that fact made you FURIOUS. It’s not like you didn’t try to initiate things either, just every time you tried anything Charlie would bring in some new meat or Luda would need her son to go to the station with her to help unpack some deliveries or Monty needed to be carried off the sun, too tired from the heat to move on his own.

Little to say, you were frustrated, but a chance to take revenge on this beautiful, dark haired bastard was coming and oh so very soon.

The thought brought a devilish grin onto your face, an expression that made Charlie go “You alright, girlie?” above you and you snapped to attention. “Ya lookin’ at my nephew like he the next one in line for dinner.” He laughed and you puffed at him, standing up with a slight blush, dusting off your jeans.“Sorry, sir, just thought of something funny.” you lied and he cocked an eyebrow, not really believing you.“U-huh, sure, darlin’. Ya ready to go into town? Got the money?” he asked and you smiled warmly, lifting your purse up and shaking it slightly. “Good, let’s go.” 

With that you almost jumped towards the old pick-up that waited right next to Hoyt’s sheriff car. Not able to resist the urge you took a swing and slapped Tommy’s perked butt, making him rise in shock and hit his head on the metal above him. You laughed, before getting into the truck and closing the door, so he wouldn’t pull you out. He most likely still could, but instead he rolled his eyes, massaging his head and shaking it shortly in disbelief before going back to work.

Once in the town you quickly parted with Hoyt, running to find a decent, still functioning clothes store, a woman on a mission.

Your plan wasn’t enacted until the next morning, however. For once you’ve been happy that Thomas always woke up way before you, leaving you to your own devices. That was his biggest mistake yet.

The day was pleasant, even with the sun shinning down on all of you mercilessly, there was a nice breeze going through, something you all hoped would be there to stay. You were very helpful right from the morning, shining with enthusiasm when told to hang the laundry, feed the chickens in the coop Charlie and Thomas installed some time ago, and then come back to help Luda Mae make some cookies.

And you probably though you were cute, wearing that baby blue summer dress that was just a bit too short to be innocent, with a bow in front, slightly to the side, as well as those stockings that hugged your tight just right, making it look so squeezable, with those flat sandals that made you look just so much shorter and more adorable. 

And you’d also think you were being sly, brushing your hand across Tommy’s forearm while passing him on the way to the coop in a rush, as if the chickens were going to escape, or when you heard his boots stop in from of the kitchen entrance and ‘dropped a fork on accident’, bending down with only your back, giving him a peek at your white, frilly underwear, and acting like you totally didn’t mean to lick that batter of the spoon in such a seductive way.

But he knew what you were doing, realized it the moment he has seen your outfit and those hungry eyes you gave him unconsciously, but Thomas was a patient man. He let you play your game, refusing to give in to your advances, so you’d be forced to come to him and ask properly for him to take you, enduring the constant sting of arousal building in his body when he would notice you, going around, completing your tasks, acting like you don’t notice him. He was doing a fine job, too.

That is, until you up and tripped, falling to your knees right before him and looking up at his masked face with those huge, bashful eyes, a blush creeping it’s way onto your cheek.

And Thomas could swear he heard something in his head snap. 

You tried to get up, but before you could rise one leg you’ve been swooped up by your neck to met his eyes. There was an anger to them, but it wasn’t what made you shiver, it was the true, unfiltered, primal lust that resonated from them, as well as the sweet smell of hormones and frustration making your head spin and leg pull up slightly, as your hands helped the rest of your body not suffer from the Butcher’s hold.

The next time you blinked, your whole body has been shoved onto the kitchen table, Thomas’ free hand throwing multiple objects onto the floor, creating a lot of noise that made your anxiety spike, but he couldn’t care less, leaning into you, one hand still keeping you in a choke-hold, the other gripping onto your tight, giving it a good, firm squeeze. His forehead pressed onto your lightly, his eyes focused on yours, a small smirk rising on his lips, followed by a hungry lick, delight hitting him hard when you shivered just at his hot breath hitting you.

With a rushed motion he pushed one of your legs away, the other giving way for his muscular tight, pressing onto your heat, you hips bucking against it in reflex, wanting to feel the man’s warmth.

His free hand shifted from your tight to your chest, rising with your heated breaths, stopping at your right tit and massaging it roughly, pinching your nipple the moment it started hardening, a quiet laugh moving his body when you squeaked at the sensation, your hands moving form his forearm to your mouth, pink painting your cheeks. With that the hand holding you down moved, trailing your body down, until it reached your heat, then pressing against it and rubbing it up and down slowly through your already soaked panties, his index finger pressing them in to reach deeper inside you. 

Your hands stifled your whimpers and moans as he teased your chest and entrance, seemingly not phased by the fact that anyone could walk in on you two at any second, that Luda Mae was supposed to come back to resume making the baked treats, but you were slowly forgetting about all that too, too focused on how good his hand felt on your covered cunt, how his eyes pierced yours, so close, warning you not to move a muscle if you wanted him to be nice and you feared what would happen if you disobeyed. 

Soon enough one of his fingers slid your panties to the side, making you feel vulgar, even more that you already did, exposed to the world on the table, but all the anxiety you felt melted into nothing, as one of his fingers slid inside you, unannounced. It moved slowly, parting your walls and teasing your nerves, making you tremble at the feeling, insides clenching with need, allowing him to please you, even more so when a second one joined, picking up the speed, already making you feel almost full with how thick and rough they were, hitting you exactly where you needed them. 

Your trembling fingers kept collecting your sounds of pleasure, hiding your face from him once he lifted his head away from your face, to look down at your squirming form and he wouldn’t have that, leaving your breasts and pulling your hands above your head, your lips pressing in a line as a reaction and you saw the satisfied smile on his face. 

A third finger squeezed it’s way inside you, making your head loll back in shock, a weak moan leaving your lips and that was enough for him. 

Slowly he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, eyes closing just for a second, just to look back at him with a small pout, silently telling him how rude he was to do something like this to you, but his devilish smile let you know that he didn’t care, bringing his fingers, still covered in your slick to your face with a silent order, to which your lips pressed together in an act of rebellion. 

An act that he quickly ruined, pushing his hips against you, spreading your legs further to accommodate his width and making you gasp with the pressure of his hardened erection, still covered with his jeans, on your needy cunt. The moment your lips parted his fingers slid in and his eyes warned you not to bite, so fearfully you obeyed, letting your tongue collect your wetness, with a deep flush on your cheeks. 

Finally his fingers retreated, leaving you panting below the giant, eyes closed in shame. 

You heard a clack and some shuffling and just seconds later something warm and slick pressed against your entrance, forcing your eyes open, wide in terror as you struggled to get your hands free, but to no avail with Thomas’ hand still holding them down like an iron shackle. 

“No, no Tommy!! Somebody will see, please not he--!” ignoring your pleas he shoved himself into you, the power in his thrust making you scream out, moving the table slightly. Your legs pressed up to your chest, spasming slightly, as the thickness of his cock spread you wide, making your muscles tighten, a long whimper escaping your mouth, your body unable to relax around him, your only saving grace being your wetness and you scolded your brain for bringing the phrase “curiosity killed the cat” to your head.

The pull of his hips burned, sending spiking pleasure throughout your whole body, mixed with a hint of pain, and the second thrust was not kinder, again earning him a sweet whimper, as you desperately tried to stay at least a bit quiet, but as his speed slowly picked up, reaching a steady rhythm, making the leftover things on the table clatter, you couldn’t handle being silent anymore. Every time he hit your end, you moaned, screamed, cried for him to go faster, harder, and he happily obliged, making you see stars over and over again, your hands struggling in his grip, body lifting off the table in a fit of pure ecstasy, letting him ravage you, use you however he wanted, you brought this upon yourself, after all, and now you were going to pay dearly for your teasing.

Just as your mind was becoming a mess you heard a crack and panic returned to you, making your walls clench against his dick sharply, making him groan, his free hand pressing onto your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, but you noticed another crack and realized something horrible.

“To---Thomas!!” You screamed and his eyes shoot up to yours, making your skin errupt in goosebumps at just how feral he looked. “Th---The table!! The table’s gonna!!” You warned and he growled, both of his hands lifting you up to his chest, still kept full of him, until he pulled out just to slam you on your belly onto the kitchen counter, kicking the breath right out of your lungs, and plunging right back into you, his furious hands reaching to the walls as he kept himself steady, pounding into you aggresively. One of them pressed your head to the wooden surface, before grabbing your hair and forcing you up and into an arch, the other following to keep you steady by your waist, forced to look him in the eye.

You felt your climax building, quickly and he didn’t protest when your fingers found your swollen clit, circling it furiously, desperate to reach that peak and you saw him smile, his lips mouthing the word “COME” and with your eyes shooting wide open you did, your walls collapsing on his cock in an almost painful manner, but he forced them away, seeking his own release, ridding your orgasm out as you screamed his name repeatedly, only strengthening his desire to destroy you, finding the strength to pound you harder, fuzzing your mind, making you a babbling, begging mess, moaning as your head was slammed back onto the counter and adoring the dizziness that came with the sudden motion.

His fingers digged into your hips, keeping you still and the stutter in his last harsh thrust was the only thing that warned you of his collapse, warm strings of thick come filling you up, making you moan in a higher pitch, your insides twitching against him, reaching another, smaller orgasm alongside his and your body gave out, trembling, shaking, exhausted, whining when he pulled out, cum slowly dripping out of you and onto your oversensitive thighs. He didn’t move you, instead putting his dick back into his boxers and zipping his pants back up, buckling his belt and letting you get up onto your shaking arms before wrapping his strong arms around you, his leather mask pressing onto your neck, so he could kiss it’s nape and you could swear you heard something similar to the words “I win” escape him, but he wouldn’t... Yeah, no, he would and you elbowed his belly weakly in protest, to which he rumbled a laughter, nuzzling into your hair, both of you covered in sweat.

Then again you felt your body being lifted and eased onto his shoulder, your hands shooting back to your skirt to cover your slightly exposed pussy as he carried you out of the room, grabbing one of the already prepared cookies off the counter and biting into it with a cocky smile.

“Tommy!” you heard Hoyt’s voice from the living room and you hoped he couldn’t see you, one of your hands covered however much of your face it could. “Ya done fucking over there, ya bastard?” The old man laughed and the embarrassment of being caught made your shake in Tommy’s grasp, even more so when he just.... NODDED. “Good! Get me some meat when you’re all cleaned up, boy! We need to get dinner started.” Hoyt replied and you died slightly inside, knowing damn well that you would not survive this evening, mentally.

It didn’t help that after the shower your body refused to function, protesting to the treatment your monstrous man has given it, so Tommy had to carry you down to the table, his chest just swelling with pride and you HATED IT.

Still, even with Hoyt’s rude remarks... It was worth it.

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Title: Seal the Deal

Characters: Bokuto x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,848

Author's note: So, I haven't written in a long time and I know I'm kinda rusty. Please bear with me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu!! and the characters, but I own the plot for this fic.

'Congratulations! You have been selected as one of the winners in the Bouncing Ball Corp's Monster Generation giveaway. A limited-edition Nendoroid and a special surprise will arrive at your delivery address. Please confirm if you are available to receive this tomorrow by responding to this message. Thank you.'

You must've read the text message over a hundred times in the last twenty-four hours, but it still made your heart skip a beat. Setting your phone down, you stood up and tried to straighten up the flat that you had just moved into last month. It wasn't much - a cozy one-bedroom apartment with a small living area, which usually doubled as your dining area on days when you could eat a nice meal at home. It certainly was a far cry from the lavish three-bedroom apartment you once shared with your ex-boyfriend, but at least it was easier to clean. 

Your ex-boyfriend - the wild, and oh-so-adorable big baby you'd loved since high school, the same one who broke your heart a few months back when he couldn't choose between you and the sport he loves, and the reason you sent in several entries to the Bouncing Ball Corp's giveaway. You sighed. If your friends found out you'd won a limited edition Nendoroid of that same person they had worked so hard to help you get over, you knew you'd be done for. But how exactly does one get over the sweet summer storm that is Kotaro Bokuto? And besides, you thought, at least a Nendoroid won't leave you unless you throw it out. 

** Ding-dong **

The sound of your doorbell snapped you back to your senses. "Just a minute," you called out as you quickly tied your hair and hurried to the door in an oversized sweater and shorts. You could feel your heart beat faster at the thought that your precious Nendoroid was within reach. 'Oh, and the text message said there was a special surprise, too,' you thought quietly. Maybe, if you were lucky, you'll also get his signed jersey. That wouldn't be so bad, you thought again as you unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

You gasped, as the person waiting right outside the door greeted you with the warmest smile and his signature line. 

"Hey, hey, he -," he paused halfway through upon seeing you. "Y/N-chan?"

Hearing him say your name almost made you cry. You had missed how he always managed to make it sound so beautiful. You also missed his naughty smirk that usually came with calling your name. As you gazed at your reflection in his golden eyes, you wondered if - like you - this beautiful man thought of you, too. You had no idea how long you've been looking at each other, but it wasn't until you heard your neighbor's baby crying that you both shook yourselves out of your reverie.

"Oh, uh.  Did you need anything?" You asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

"Yes, I'm here to personally deliver the prize from Kenma. Kuroo asked to go, and this was the address he gave…," your ex-boyfriend said as he fumbled over his phone, looking for the exact message his friend has given. Glancing back and forth his phone and the number on the door, he scratched the back of his head. "See, it says 2404 -"

"Yes, Bokuto-san, I won the contest," you finally admitted, as you felt a blush slowly creep up your cheeks. 

"You did?" He flashed you a dazzling smile, his eyes sparkled and you looked away. When he noticed your eyes move to the paper bag he was carrying, he cleared his throat. "Uh… yeah, this is for you…"

"Uh, thanks," you replied shyly, as you took the paper bag containing the Nendoroid of the very same person you were talking to now. Your gaze darted from his handsome face to the suddenly empty hall outside your flat, and you could tell he was feeling just as awkward. "So, uh…"

"So, uh, this is where you moved to?" He asked as he took a step forward to peek inside your humble abode. 

"Uh-huh," you replied. "I-I'd invite you in, but…"

"Don't mind if I do," he said, stepping inside your pad. Even with his back facing you, you could tell that he was surveying your space, and you felt more and more flustered by the minute. "You have a microwave. I need to get me one of those."

"You have a microwave, Bokuto-san. It's top-of-the-line, and it was working fine when I moved out," you quipped, as you watched him from behind. 

"Was it? Then I must've destroyed it the other day when I tried to use it to heat water," he said casually, as he looked around your pad some more.

"Your couch looks comfortable. I should probably buy one for my bedroom."

"What's wrong with the sectional? If I remember correctly, you had it customized by Fendi," you retorted. 

"Did I? There must've been a reason I did, but I can't remember," he muttered, turning his attention to the wall.  "Oh, this is a nice painting. I need one of these."

"That's just a painting I bought at a trift shop," you said, cocking an eyebrow at your tall ex-lover. "You have original Murukamis on your walls, Bokuto-san. We bought three of them in the fundraiser that Kuroo hosted."

"Oh. Of course," he sighed. "It's just that… well, your place is -"

"Small?" 

"No, it's not that," he responded, as he gazed upward as if trying to find the right word. 

"Tiny? Minuscule? Compact?" 

"Hey, those all mean the same thing," he whined before plopping down on your couch. You quietly watched as he leaned back and stretched out his legs, trying hard not to bump the coffee table, but he still managed to do so. Something about the scene before you were so endearing, you found yourself smiling before you could stop yourself. And right about that time, your dashing ex-lover happened to look at you and smile back. Lifting his hand out to you, he said, "I'm just saying your new place sorta gives off a certain kind of vibe, you know."

Raising an eyebrow, you stared at his hand and thought twice about taking it. It wasn't like you never held hands before, but now that you've broken up, it all seems so weird. 

But you wanted to take it. Oh, how you've imagined holding his hand a thousand times since you broke up, so just before he pulled away, you moved forward to grab it, and fell on his lap in the process. As you struggled to stand up, the dashing MSBY Outside Hitter put his arm around your waist to keep you from budging. "Ah, now this scene looks awfully familiar."

"Stop it, Bokuto-san," you said, hitting him on the chest so he could loosen his grip on you a little bit. 

"Oh, but don't you think seeing each other after several months is fate?"

"More like a certain capitalist's underhanded scheme," you retorted, as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. 

"Just… just let me hold you a little longer, Y/N-chan… please?" 

You stopped squirming as you listened to his silent plea, and you slowly turned your eyes met his. "Bokuto-san…"

"You could do better than that," he said, as he lifted one hand and traced the side of your face with his long fingers. "I… I missed you, Y/N-chan. I know this was all my fault, I just didn't think you'd up and leave."

"That's what usually happens when you say you love your career more than your girlfriend, Kotaro," you managed to reply, as you thought back to that fateful night when you had come home from attending another one of your friends' wedding stag because he had practice. He was watching one of their games against the Adlers, paying close attention to Ushijima and Kageyama's quick attacks when you sat beside him and recounted how beautiful the ceremony was and how much more fun it would've been if he had attended it with you. He'd usually humor you - asking you to tell him what you liked best about it, how the food was, and listen intently to what you had to say - but lately, he'd neither had the patience not the drive to hear you out and on that night, you weren't having it either. After your stories were met with silence, you decided enough was enough. And on that same evening, you called your old roommate to let her know you were staying over. 

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N-chan. I was under a lot of pressure before," he said, drawing you away from your thoughts. "I was under a lot of pressure. You knew a lot was riding on winning the championships."

As he looked at your blank expression, he huffed and pouted. "I know, I know… I could've chased after you - and believe me, I wanted to, but… uh..," he trailed off.

"But I wasn't your priority," you deadpanned. 

"To be honest, I thought you'd come back the next day, and when you didn't…"

"You got angry and thought you shouldn't come after me?"

"No… more like I thought you'd come back the day after or the day after that, and before I realized it, so much time has passed and it was too late to chase after you…"

"So you decided not to?" You watched as he nodded silently, admitting defeat, and you sighed. If this were someone else, you would easily doubt what he said was true, but this guy wouldn't lie to you if his life depended on it. The tightness you had felt in your chest started to ease up, and rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue. "That's so like you, Bokuto-san."

"And there's no one else but you for me, Y/N-chan," he replied, holding you steady in his arms. "So, what do you say, do you think you can give me another shot at this?"

"At what exactly?"

"At this," he gestured to the both of you. "At us. Please? I'll be a better boyfriend. I'll attend all the parties you want to go to, or I'll listen to whatever you want to say to me - even when you repeat it several times, I'll do whatever you want, Y/N-chan, so please…"

You could feel your heart melt as he pleaded with you, and you silently scolded yourself at having your resolve crushed so easily. You knew your friends were probably not going to be happy, but you also knew no one else would do for you. 

"Y/N-chan?"

You sighed and turned your attention back to him. "I suppose you are cuter than the Nendoroid," you said haughtily. 

"So, will you date me again?"

"As long as you promise I'm your priority from now on."

He squeezed you to his chest and squealed. "You don't need to worry because you're the only one that matters," he said before his lips met yours to seal the deal. 

The end.