#my mom was the one driving and amidst me giggling

[jackshiccup]

something lowkey funny about me getting into a minor car crash while reading a hijack fanfic (i’m okay dw 👍🏽)

[peaches-writes]

off season

description: student athletes need to look out for each other—well, at least seungmin needs to look out for your clumsy ass most of the time member: seungmin genre: fluff, sports au, best friends to lovers au, slice of life au, summer au, a side of college au (but like the ugly ass summer classes aspect of college life), implied fem reader  word count: 11.3k warning: explicit language, blood, injuries, extreme sports, a very poor attempt at writing sports, seungmin worries the entire time for good reason  note: a bunch of stuff put together it’s not rlly good sldkfsk like it was getting too lengthy i had to like haphazardly end it somehow + the one time you see me write a sports-themed fic & it’s not abt the actual sports i play lmao + also hi @t-toodumbtocare​ u told me to tag u so here we are

one - saturday

Amidst preparations for your incoming senior thesis, choosing your course specialization, clubs, and training, Kim Seungmin rushed getting his driver’s license before the end of your 3rd year’s 2nd semester for the sole purpose of driving you around the city this summer and you’re quite sure that that’s love. Though he disapproves of your specific choice of escapade that has you running around Seoul in circles in the first place, your best friend still made sure to pass his driving classes a whole month before the previous semester ended and with flying colors so he can “look after you” as he would put it. It definitely is love—simultaneously a heartwarming and annoying one at that. 

“I can take care of myself, I’m an adult,” You feign a frown at him stubbornly for the third time this month, sliding in the front seat of his navy Subaru anyway and placing your gym bag in front of your feet. You then busy yourself with taking your roller skates out, switching them out with your old Converse. “and it’s not like I don’t know how to commute.”

But, just as you’ve had this conversation every time he picks you up from your dorm on Saturday evenings, Seungmin only dismisses your argument and replies, “Yeah, and you know transport is not the main reason why I chaperone.” From the corner of your eye, you then see him expertly shifting the gears and turning the steering wheel, driving the car to the campus’ South gate, his serious expression unwavering and making you stifle a giggle. “You could get seriously hurt playing. Your mom will kill me and your coach will kill you for that.” 

“But I haven’t yet.” You counter with a slight teasing in your tone, pretending to ignore his last comment. You don’t even repeat this argument every week in the hopes of changing Seungmin’s mind at this point; after almost two months of the same starting conversation between the two of you, you just press his buttons now for fun. Undeniably, it’s funny seeing him get visibly riled up. “I’ve been playing derby for two months and the most I’ve gotten is a severely bloody nose. It’s nothing I can’t handle—“

“Yet.” He scoffs now in frustration before turning right to the main highway, well-aware of what you’re doing but letting himself get stressed anyway. “Even athletes get seriously hurt in the field, Y/N, we both know that.” 

You only nod with a hum, twisting your body to Seungmin’s direction and poking his side. “I know, Minnie.” You assure, softer now as you finally let out the chuckle you’ve been holding. “Now relax, loosen up a bit! You know I’m just messing with you!” 

“I know and it’s getting a bit concerning.” He rolls his eyes, finally relaxing his shoulders a bit and sighing in disbelief before swiftly swatting your hand away from his waist. “You talk like you’re not training for next year’s Championships.”

“Ah, but it’s because training isn’t as strict yet, at least with mine.” You shrug, sitting up properly in your seat as you take this opportunity to change the topic. “How’s your training, by the way? I barely saw you this week. Is Jeno giving you a hard time as co-capt.?” 

You sink in your seat and look up at Seungmin expectantly after, smiling unconsciously when he doesn’t respond immediately to focus on driving, giving you a brief moment to admire his focused expression. “Training’s okay.” He eventually replies, quirking an eyebrow when he briefly glances at you over his shoulder and catches you staring. “Surprisingly, Jeno’s chill with being co-capt. We’re getting along.”

“’Chill,’ you mean lazy like you.” You scoff playfully. “Why have you been too busy to hang out this week, then?” 

“Practicing my driving so I don’t accidentally kill you first before roller skating could.” He answers dryly, making you roll your eyes. “That and Mr. Im’s giving too much papers for an intersession class.”

“Right, summer classes. So responsible.” You scrunch up your nose. “Aren’t you tired? Training, summer classes, driving me on Saturdays, not to mention we’re going to be seniors after the break...��

When you don’t speak after trailing off, you see him shaking his head. “A bit, but driving you around is relaxing.” He corrects casually, missing the way he catches you off-guard. “It helps me think and, like I’ve said before, I get to look after you so, seriously, don’t try sneaking around me and commuting on your own or I’ll start panicking.” 

Now, that is new to your Saturday conversation starter. 

“Really now?” You raise your own eyebrow, trying your best to not sound too surprised. “So you don’t hate this as much as you make it seem like?”

“I didn’t say that.” Though visibly caught off-guard too, he shakes his head as seriously as he can look, not even sparing you a glance this time as he makes another turn. “But making sure you’re alive is kind of part of the best friend job.” He explains after, making you laugh. “And driving—driving’s always fun.”

“Sure, sure.” You smile as you try playing it off coolly, looking down on your hands as heat rises up your neck. “Whatever you say, Minnie.”

-

You first got into roller derby through Yuna, a freshman in your university and a fellow figure skater who began training alongside you during the 1st semester of your 3rd year. Sometime almost two months ago, one of her derby team members, Yeji, had to cancel a few days prior to an important game to attend to her personal matters and so she immediately turned to you as a possible substitute, noting your figure skating skills and how you’re already familiar with the sport from occasionally watching her. Naturally, with your adventurous streak, curiosity got the best of you when presented with the offer and, especially after winning the game, you’ve been hooked ever since; meeting up with her and the rest of the all-girls team almost every Friday and Saturday at the warehouse on the way to Incheon where the games are usually held. 

So naturally, she always makes sure to meet you at the entrance of the venue, especially now that she’s not training with you for the summer to focus on her own summer classes and a part-time job. 

“Finally, you’re here! I missed you!” She hurriedly waves at Seungmin before throwing an arm around your shoulder in a side hug. “How have you two been, lovebirds?”

“Ya, Minnie and I aren’t like that.” You roll your eyes as you briefly hug her back by her waist, careful of her arm injury from two Saturdays ago while expertly hiding the heat flaming your cheeks. With this gesture, you almost miss the way Seungmin’s lips frown every so slightly in front of you, if it’s because of the nickname or your reaction to it, you dare not to ask for fear of further embarrassment. “And I’ve been well, Coach Park isn’t going beast mode on me yet. Seungmin here’s been busy, though.”

“Oh, right! I heard from Jeno that your first game’s in 2 weeks already.” Yena then turns to your best friend expectantly. “How’s training? The game’s on a Saturday, right?”

“It’s...fine,” Seungmin answers slowly with a hum, almost as if he’s hesitant on what word to use. You then see him narrow his eyes at you when he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes at the familiar question. “...chill, actually.”

“Chill as in lazy.” And as expected, you chime in the same words you commented on the car ride to the venue, making Yuna throw her head back in laughter. “You know how our friends are.” 

“As expected of Seungmin and Jeno together, I guess.” She nods in confirmation between laughs, making Seungmin groan in defeat even more. “How do boys in team sports even do it? Train, I mean?” 

You shrug in response, giggling at Seungmin’s annoyed expression directed mostly to you. “Guess we’ll have to see in two weeks, right? Are you free on that weekend?”

“Yeah, intersession’s been hectic, but I’ll try and clear my schedule!”  

“Oh coo—!” But before you could even comment more on a possible hangout with Yuna, Seungmin is already directing the three of you inside the warehouse impatiently. “Ya!” 

“Yeah, yeah, finish your game tonight first then I’ll think about letting you in mine. Aish, you two are so mean to me and Jeno all the time.” He huffs with a roll of eyes, stopping right in front of the path behind the audience bleachers leading to the locker rooms.

Turning to you again, he then bids you goodbye with an affectionate pat to your head and a long sigh. “Be careful tonight, okay? Make sure to wear your gear properly.”

“Always am.” You assure with a wink, holding your gear up in front of him before he can take another step back. “Relax, would you? Just enjoy the show tonight!” 

Seungmin nods at you with pursed lips one last time before waving goodbye as he starts retreating back into the crowd, most likely to join your other friends at the bleachers. “I’ll see you on the rink!”

“I’ll be the one with the star on my helmet!” You jokingly remind with a chuckle, smiling when he acknowledges you with a final wave before finally turning around to walk away properly. 

“Ah, lovebirds.” Yuna comments on the side once Seungmin fully disappears into the crowd, making you glare at her at already knowing where this conversation is going to lead to. “Every single time you’re here without fail. So romantic!”

“Yuna!” You scold much like you’ve been doing the past two months, throwing your arm around her shoulder this time as the two of you now turn left to the lockers. “It’s really not like that!” 

“I’m friends with Kai and Jeno but you don’t see those two caring if I die on the rink every game. I’m pretty sure they want me dead more than anything, even.” She points out in defense. “I’m telling you, Seungmin’s a whole keeper! And you already told me you like him too so what’s stopping yo—“

“We’re not dating ever.” You insist stubbornly, entering the locker rooms now where your teammates greet you (and Yeji scolds you again for arriving late). “He’s just looking out for me because he thinks I can’t commit to anything without threatening death. Besides, he’s busy, I’m busy—” 

“—You like him, he likes you, you’re both dense.” Yuna interjects in the same enumerating tone you used, settling on a nearby bench as you move to your locker to change and prepare your gear. “The same speech every week, and they’re not even good excuses. Seriously, just date already!”

You open your mouth to respond while taking your outer clothes off, revealing your derby uniform inside, but Lia, as expected, suddenly pops out of nowhere, asking, “Who’s dating?”

“No one—”

“Will date, you mean.” Yuna corrects, turning your frown into a scowl now as you pop your head out of your shirt, carefully discarding the material inside your locker with your gym bag in exchange for your helmet and arm gear. “You already know who.” 

At this, you see Lia smile knowingly and lean back on the bench as you hurriedly put on your gear and helmet. “Right, the lovebirds.” She nods at Yuna before turning to you. “Did anything happen this week?” 

You quickly shake your head, adjusting your helmet as you do so. “No, Yuna’s just teasing me—again.” You then sit in between the two girls, re-tying your roller skate’s laces. “Don’t listen to her, she’s delusional.”

“Um, delusional for a reason!” The girl in question protests much to Lia’s amusement, bumping her shoulders with yours in the process. “Who even drives people to places even when they don’t want to? And he always insists on looking at your injuries after every game too? I think someone’s whipped and his name begins with a Seung and ends with a Min.” 

“He’s just nice and—” You try to insist again but to no avail when you see her raising her eyebrows and smiling suggestively, your hands going up to your face sheepishly as your stubborn front easily breaks down at it. “Ugh, stop with those looks!” 

On your sides, you hear Lia and Yuna laugh, patting your back and shoulders comfortingly.  

“Hey, you know Yuna’s just messing with you.” Lia reminds you softly after a moment, prying your hands off of your face and helping you up. “You won’t let that get in your head now of all weeks, would you? It’s the re-match game against our seniors tonight!”

“It’s just you always put me up to it. Seriously, stop it!” You groan instead in protest, belatedly swatting the two away as you join your team back outside and to the rink. “I swear, if I end up getting thrown by Jeongyeon across the rink again tonight, I’m blaming it on you because you keep teasing me.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Yuna rolls her eyes playfully just as you reach the rink, meeting the crowd’s cheers that momentarily prompts you to wave and smile at them. “maybe until later after the game.”

“Don’t even try pointing at Seungmin to me again mid-game.” You elbow her harshly, ending the conversation as the announcer, Jaemin, calls your team name and starts listing your numbers one by one in introduction. 

“...number 5 Lee Chaeryeong, number 9 Shin Yuna, and number 17 Y/N Y/L/N!” 

“I don’t have to,” Yuna retorts playfully as she prepares to slide in the rink before you, referring to your last comment. “You always find him yourself, anyway.”  

And, as if her words easily got to you, you unconsciously find Seungmin waving at you from the crowd, seated with Jeno, Kai, and Jeongin who are holding yet another cheesy poster for your team. You wave back at him out of courtesy, glancing at Yuna after to roll your eyes in her direction.

“See?” She mouths at you before moving to the very front of the group with Lia and Yeji, starting the game. “Whipped!”

Meanwhile, you skate over to the back with the opposing team’s jammer, Jeongyeon, accepting her high-five before getting in position. 

“Y/N, long time no see! Are you with your boyfriend again?” She teases just as Jaemin, blows the first whistle for the pack to start skating. “Seungmin, right? The kid from Legal Management?” 

You glance at her briefly, skating on the second whistle first before exclaiming, “Jeongyeon, not you too!” 

“I’m just asking!” She holds her hands up in defense, quickening her pace almost at the same time as you do. “Just so I know if you get distracted again!” 

“I won’t this time, promise.” You assure, using the conversation to fuel your momentum and easily overtaking her. “I’ll be focused tonight!” 

“We’ll see about that!” You hear her yell behind you as she catches up, dodging your teammates while you dodge hers to score a point. 

Swiftly, you duck and jump around the pack, making sure to avoid Seungmin’s eyes when you pass his bleachers to prove to Yuna, Lia, and even Jeongyeon otherwise as you come in contact with them. 

Eventually, with a little difficulty and a lot of harsh shoulder and hip bumps from Chaeyoung and Dahyun, you then score the first point with a huge gap between you and Jeongyeon. 

“See, I’m focused!” You brag to your senior who runs behind you before turning your gaze ahead again. 

“And the first 5 points of the night goes to number 17, Y/N!” Meanwhile, Jaemin announces into his mic from the center of the rink, catching a high-five from you as you pass. “Must be all that formal training, huh?” 

“What are you talking about? This is how I usually walk!” You reply playfully, eliciting more cheers from the crowd as you naturally change into your athletic persona. 

“And the figure skater brags again.” Jaemin muses out loud, receiving the banter well as the host. “Careful there, Y/N, Jeongyeon, number 1, is catching up quickly!” 

But despite the warning, you take the time away from the pack to momentarily slow down, waving and receiving more high-fives from the crowd before finally looking over at Seungmin who is now on his feet and clapping wildly while cheering for your team, a stark contrast of his usual worried disposition at the start of the night. When you reach his bleacher as you quicken your pace to try and score another point, you lean over the barrier and send him a confident wink which he receives with a playful scoff. 

“What are you doing? Focus on your game!” He scolds, the other boys snickering next to him.

“I’m just checking in with my biggest fan before he goes back to worried mode.” You grin at him, pinching his cheek affectionately. “How was my first five points?”

“Great, great.” He answers quickly, gently pushing you by your shoulder as if gesturing you to go back to your game. “Now, go, you have a pack to catch up to and a game to win.” 

Cute, you think to yourself, a grin forming on your features as you bid him goodbye again to go back to chasing the pack around the rink. “Okay, Minnie, whatever you say!” 

“You two are so adorable!” Sana points out as you reach her on the side of the pack after, not even bothering to block you or hit you by the hips now with how much she’s gushing over you and Seungmin. “So cute!” 

“I know, right? Unnie, can you believe they’re still not dating?” Yuna agrees, letting her guard down momentarily from blocking Sana until she sees Jeongyeon catching up to you from over your shoulder. 

“Yuna, stop it!” 

“No! It’s fu—oh, look out!” 

Behind you, Jeongyeon easily knocks Lia and Chaeryeong off their skates, her hand reaching your shoulder to propel herself forward in the tightly-knit pack. 

“Come on, guys, less talking more hitting!” Your opponent jammer sticks her tongue out, purposely waiting for you to catch up before picking up the pace again. “Y/N, you said you’re not getting distracted!” 

“Sana and Yuna were ganging up on me!” You retort in protest, bumping her by her shoulders and hips and overtaking her again. “More hitting it is then!” 

“Oh, it seems like this second game between Team Neon and Team Magenta is going to be bloody!” Jaemin, quickly picking up on the commotion, comments. “Who will be our winner tonight? It looks like it’s going to be a very close call!” 

“Ah, not on my watch.” You mumble under your breath, expertly knocking out Jeongyeon on the way to another five points. 

- 

The game ends almost two hours later, the score being 115-110 with your team emerging victorious and at least four overall cuts and bruises around your body. As soon as all the photographs have been taken for Instagram and the weekly plastic trophy has been passed around your team at least twice, Seungmin immediately takes you away from the crowd and your team right after taking your things from the locker room, his adrenaline for watching sports directing its attention to tending to you again and his cheerful expression switching back to worry. 

“Minnieee,” You call for him for the second time as you near the bathroom at the end of the hall, tiredly stumbling over nothing when Seungmin doesn’t slow down a bit with his brisk walking. “Minnie, slow down a bit, my legs are tired!” 

But he only slows down when you reach the bathroom, gently hoisting you up to sit on the cold marble of the sinks before taking out his first-aid kit and the ice packs he got from Jaemin from the outer pockets of his backpack. His serious and worried expression doesn’t falter once, looking even worse than the one he always wears on your car rides to the game. “Don’t move too much until I—until we’ve checked everything.” He instructs you, lifting your gym bag and his backpack that he’s been carrying with him to the side.

“You’re so serious again.” You feign another frown at him once you’re settled on top of the sink, gaze softening as he quietly and hurriedly shuffles around to wrap the ice packs in towels as if ignoring your comment. “Don’t I get another ‘congrats’ or a ‘good job’? I scored 85 of those 115 points. I’m fine.” 

“I already congratulated you with the others out there,” He reminds with a frustrated sigh, carefully inspecting your arms and legs for more bruises he didn’t initially notice. “and you already know you did really well against Jeongyeon this time around but that fall before the 85th point...”

At the mention of your one violent fall tonight, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “This one?” You ask for confirmation, lifting your shift up and pulling your waistband down slightly against your heated cheeks and Seungmin’s suddenly wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you hide it again from him as quickly as you showed it and assure, “It’s fine, seriously, I—“

But, just as stubborn as you are, Seungmin’s hands move shakily to the hem of your shirt, hesitantly lifting it up after looking up at you in permission to see the harsh mark. “I-It’s turning blue. You didn’t even ice it up properly when you switched positions with Chaeyeon.” He argues back as firmly as he can and thus cutting you off from showing him your other bruises, his other hand holding up the ice pack in between the two of you. “This one really needs the ice pack more than the rest.”

Your eyes widen back at him because of the gesture, freezing for a moment in place until you quickly regain composure and manage to stutter out, “O-okay, fine...” And with that, you take his hand off your shirt, holding it up yourself while your other hand takes the ice pack from him. “Th—shit—t-thanks.”

Seungmin only nods and hums in acknowledgement awkwardly, picking up two other ice packs wrapped in a towels and leaving one to rest on your right thigh while he hovers the other over your your collarbones. “The other two don’t look too bad, though.” He comments, changing the topic and muttering a quick apology when you hiss at the simultaneous cold contact on your skin. “You’re not hurt anywhere else, right?”

“I think I have a cut on my feet, I’m not sure, it stings a bit when I put too much pressure.” You shrug your free shoulder carefully, meeting Seungmin’s eyes when you turn to him again and find him hovering dangerously close to your face. With the way he looks at you expectantly for answers, you immediately figure out that it’s not time to tease or play games with him anymore. “I-I’ll just—walk back out with slippers, it’s probably just the blisters from last week.”

“We’ll have to check that too. You also have a cut on your lip, you know.” He points out after when he leans closer, his free hand picking up a small box of face tissues from the first-aid kit. “When did this even happen?”

Instinctively, you reach out to touch your bare lips first before taking the tissues from him, only then noticing the dry skin bumps that have now formed around what you assume would be a dried cut. “Huh, I didn’t even notice.” You muse out loud, closing your mouth and taking the tissues from Seungmin immediately when you feel the wound open slightly again. “It must be from when Chaeyoung hit me—shit.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, huh?” Seungmin mumbles under his breath, looking down on your thigh to check the bruise under the ice pack he left freely on top of it. “You’re so clumsy.”

You frown at him and the reference to earlier this evening, making him crack a small amused smile when he meets your gaze again. “Fine, maybe I am a bit—clumsy.” You admit hesitantly with a sigh and a roll of your eyes when he raises an eyebrow at you again. “But at least I got you to patch me up every time, right?”

“And that’s why I chaperone you.” He reiterates firmly, briefly taking off the ice pack he’s holding against your collarbones to inspect the bruise after and furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Tch, it’s not like this happens every week. It just happened that tonight was extra violent, you know.” You reply slowly before licking your lips and disposing the tissue into a nearby chute. 

“Yeah but point you still got hurt like you always do every single week.” He retorts before picking up the ointment and cotton balls next to you, taking a step back and crouching down to the level of your skates. Untying your shoelaces then taking your skates and socks off, you lean forward to see Seungmin wince at the amount of red blotches and commenting, “Look, you even managed to open your blisters tonight.” 

“Is it that ba—sh-shit! Ya, Minnie, you’re pressing too hard on i—ya, it hurts!” You wince when Seungmin presses a cotton ball coated in ointment on one of your blisters, making you instinctively grip on the edge of the sink and lean back. 

“Ya, you really didn’t notice this? At all?” He scolds, cleaning your wounds again but this time simultaneously evading your unconscious attempts at kicking his face. 

“Well, I was too happy knowing that we’re advancing to fina—ow, ow, ow, it stings!” 

“Ah, seriously. Ya, stop moving too much, I still need to bandage these.” He hisses, slapping your leg gently before going back to cleaning your wounds. “I’ll make it up to you later, promise.” 

“Piggyback and ice cream?” You pout. “You’re being really harsh on my blisters.” 

“Wheelchair if you don’t behave and kick me in the face.” He threatens, holding your feet in place by your ankles before going back to cleaning the rest of your wounds. “Now, just hold it in a bit.” 

two - sunday

Seungmin also dotes on you by randomly checking in during your training hours. Though he’s always done this even before you started training competitively, ever since you’ve picked up your side hobby of roller derby this summer he’s started picking up a more consistent schedule of coming over on Sunday mornings (when he knows you’d still push yourself to attend training) to make sure that you’re not overworking and further damaging your already bruised and wounded body. It’s a bit too much for his character, you’d know very well as his best friend with years of observing how he treats his other student athlete friends, but he always brings you coffee and a cheat meal bento for when Coach Park isn’t looking so you can’t really complain.

“Minnie!” You greet him with a wave as he finally arrives, 8 PM on the dot just as you finish your best attempt at warming up your already sore body. Skating over to his side of the audience area, you then lean over the barriers with your arms folded on top of it with an anticipating smile, watching him get comfortable in his unofficial seat in the middle of the front row. “What do you have for me today?”

“It’s Korean special for today.” He answers with a smile, taking out a pair of familiar white bento boxes typically sold at the cafeteria of the nearby College of Architecture and shaking it in front of you before placing it on the seat next to him. Looking around the empty rink, he then asks, “Coach Park isn’t with you today?”

“Faculty meeting, won’t be back until lunch,” You shrug before another thought crosses your mind. “Hey, do you want to skate?”

Seungmin hesitantly shakes his head in front of your wide eyes, sinking in his seat. “No, I’m good, thanks.” He shrugs as casually as he can, though you’re quicker to take note of his gaze lingering on the smooth ice.  

So, stubborn as you are, you insist anyway, “I see that look!” 

“You’re supposed to be training—actually, you shouldn’t even be with all the hits you took last night.” He points out. “Anyway, don’t you need the whole rink?”

“I’ll be here the whole day. I can just practice seriously when Coach Park is actually here.” You grin widely, smoothly gliding to the gates now to fetch him. When he doesn’t move in his seat, you continue further up the stairs until your blades hit the rubber mats of the audience area. “And like you said, I shouldn’t be training with all the hits I took last night.”

“We can just skate around leisurely!” You conclude, Seungmin’s eyes narrowing up at you when you reach him and his body automatically cringing at the sound of your blades hitting rubber. 

“Yeah, but—”

In response, you take hold of his free hand with your own while the other puts his backpack to the side, tugging him to the direction of the locker rooms. “I’m injured so I need help getting around.” You answer after halfheartedly. 

“You were already skating before I could even get here.” He tries reasoning out but before he can even continue, you’ve already managed to pull him up to a stand, almost tripping the two of you even until he quickly balanced himself right in front of you. 

“Kids will start training here by next week so this is literally the last time we’ll have the ice on our own for a while.” You counter back, already pulling him to the locker rooms with the loud thud of your blades. Glancing over at him from behind your shoulder, you chuckle as you catch Seungmin’s expression change into that of resignation as he finally lets you pull him along. “Ha, knew it.” 

“I’m just looking out for you,” He states, more to convince himself than you. At that, you reach the locker room, proceeding straight to the unclaimed locker next to yours by the door for Seungmin’s skates—an old pair you stole from his house some two Christmases ago when he started visiting you like this. 

“Right, right.” You giggle at him, passing him his skates and taking out another article of clothing from the lockers, this time a familiar hoodie from your locker that immediately catches Seungmin’s eye. “Just put these on.”

“Didn’t you say you lost this hoodie?” 

“It actually got lost in my laundry for two months bu—ya, don’t look at me like that! At least I’m giving it back now! I don’t want you getting in there cold!” 

-

Seungmin is exceptionally knowledgeable on many things like Legal Management (his course), baseball, music (especially singing with the amount of times he hangs out with Jeongin, his other best friend), and skating—but the last is quite debatable since his knowledge is limited to growing up watching you upgrade from the lake behind your houses when you were five to the rinks you train at today. He still doesn’t get how scoring works (”But you looked so great out there!” “Not to the judges, I guess.” “Huh?!”) and he still can’t differentiate the common jumps in competitive figure skating that well but you trust him as one who has a good eye for artistry and technique. He is a fellow athlete, after all. 

“Can you extend your arms a little more?” He asks after you’ve shown him a particular step in a work-in-progress choreography for next year’s Championships. After a mini argument with him over whether you’ll practice your stunts while he’s still with you or just skate around until you feel tired, he somehow convinced you to show your choreography first before skating with you by offering to treat you to another bento box and a cup of iced coffee later. 

Damn his negotiating skills. 

Skating back to him from the other side of the rink, you sigh. “I mean I can if I’m not injured at the moment.” You answer, gesturing to the bruise on your collarbone hidden behind your own long sleeves. “Maybe on the day itself, you know, 7 months from now.” 

“Then you should make sure to extend your arms out in that move when your bruise heals so you look pretty,” He concludes, taking your phone out of his pocket and pressing pause on your chosen music that now fades to a segment without choreography yet. “and don’t play any derby on that month.” 

The last comment makes you smile as you now leisurely skate in circles around him. “So you’re allowing me to play derby until next year?” You ask with your most hopeful look, halting to a stop next to him and linking your arms with his after.

“I’m just saying in case you still want to play derby until next year.” He shrugs, following you around the rink when you tug him forward. “The choice is still up to you.” 

You then take this as a sign that you can now skate freely around after a whole hour of “practice,” mindlessly leading the two of you around the ice. Seungmin would still trip a little bit no matter how many times you’ve tried teaching him how to glide smoothly on the ice but you pretend to not take notice of this, gently helping him balance himself wordlessly instead. 

“Wait, do you still want to?” He asks after a moment. “Play after the summer, I mean?” 

You shrug back, alternating your attention between thinking of a more elaborate answer and looking down on Seungmin’s skates to make sure he’s not threatening another fall. “Derby’s fun and all, especially right now on my off-season but I don’t know. It does take a toll sometimes.” You end up saying in the end, guiding Seungmin around the curve of the rink in increasingly larger glides. “Coach Park’s kind of getting mad at me already too when she sees some of my blisters since it’s not helping me break in my new skates.”

“So...yes, no, maybe?” 

“Maybe.” You answer, looking up at him and admiring the way he concentrates on balancing himself. “Besides, I still have to ask you about it too.” 

At that, you catch Seungmin’s gaze and raised eyebrow. “Me?” He repeats, almost falling over in front of him and prompting you to slow down. 

“Yeah,” You naturally follow up, skating ahead of him and moving your hands back into his as you try skating backwards this time. “as my no. 1 fan—and by that I mean my best friend who always scolds me before and after the games but cheers on me wildly during—what do you think?”  

You observe Seungmin without too much anticipation in your expression in case he correctly guesses that you’re expecting a certain answer from him. 

“I’ve already told you before...” He eventually trails off after a moment before glancing at you again and sighing. “...it’s just, you look like you’re having fun but—”

“But it’s dangerous.“

“But you should play less.” He corrects seriously, skating the arms distance between the two of you and placing his hands on your upper arms, holding you in place. With this gesture, you look up at him with a confused expression, trying to decipher all the thoughts that seem to run over a mile a second in the way he glances back at you. “I’m always behind you and whatever you do, even if it’s dangerous and stupid, that’s what best friends do—but even that has limits sometimes.” 

You pause. For some reason, you don’t think of an immediate and witty comeback to lighten what has unconsciously become a sincere atmosphere, your thoughts lingering instead to the conversation you had with Yuna just last night. 

“Who even drives people to places even when they don’t want to?” You hear your friend loud and clear in your mind, almost nagging even. 

Definitely not Seungmin, you think to yourself, especially if it’s another person like Hyunjin or Jeongin...

“Y/N?” Seungmin suddenly calls for you, his voice just barely above a whisper as he hesitantly lets go of your arms and snaps you out of your daze. 

Blinking twice up at him, you catch him just in time before he can even skate back away from you, holding him by his fingertips. “So...” You trail off, furrowing your eyebrows in thought. “so yes, no, maybe—?”

“Maybe.” He finishes the thought for you, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly before huffing slightly in the cold, a puff of white air escaping his pink lips. “That’s a maybe too, I guess.” 

You nod slowly in acknowledgement, tugging him forwards. “So, in conclusion,” You reply slowly, changing your direction again as you now move yourself and Seungmin to the very center of the rink before breaking out into a chuckle to diffuse the unnecessarily tense atmosphere. “let’s get back to it after the summer?” 

“That and don’t play derby when the time comes that you’re actually in Championships.” Seungmin points out, catching up with you now so you’re skating next to each other again. “Multi-tasking isn’t really your strongest suit.”

“Ya!” You protest, elbowing him gently and making him laugh. 

“I was just kidding!” When you try skating away from him, Seungmin latches onto your elbow and desperately pulls you back to his side, barely missing another threat of a fall. “Don’t let go, I’ll trip!” 

“Says the one who called me clumsy that I can’t multitask.” You roll your eyes with an amused chuckle

“We just had a really heartfelt talk and that’s all you picked up?” Seungmin feigns a frown at you, tightening his arms linked to yours. “You’re unbelievable sometimes.” 

“It’s not like we don’t always talk about it.” You scoff, pulling Seungmin close by linking your arms again. “Though, I am a bit surprised with today’s answer. You just always know how to re-word the same thing a bunch of times, huh?” 

“You brought it up and I answered sincerely.” He gestures to you with a tilt of his head, looking down on his skates after. “I didn’t even know my opinion was that important to you. I mean, you have been ignoring it for 2 months straight.” 

“Like I said, no. 1 fan.” You grin before nudging him by his shoulder. “And I don’t ignore your opinion, I’ve been retiring from the game itself earlier like you asked me to before!” 

“As if that makes a difference.” He rolls his eyes, pursing his lips before he could comment further. “You still play 3/4 of the game, anyway.” 

“We’re going to argue about this for the whole morning if ever, Kim Seungmin.” You chuckle, holding his hand again and leading him to another spin around the rink. “Let’s just skate freely for now, hm?” 

- 

Coach Park arrives an hour earlier than she intended later on while you and Seungmin ate your bento boxes, prompting your best friend to not return to the ice after and to simply watch you from the stands instead. When your training ends almost five hours later, you’re quick to change back into your shoes in the locker rooms to return back to Seungmin’s side, making even your coach laugh in amusement. 

“I’ll see you next week Thursday, correct?” Coach Park asks you as she readies to shut the power off the venue, still chuckling every time she glances at you standing next to Seungmin by the entrance. “Those wounds should improve by then so we can start landing at least half of your jumps.” 

You nod, adjusting your gym bag on your one shoulder. “I’ll rest until then, promise!” 

Coach Park then turns to Seungmin with a feigned strict look, pointing at you as she then instructs, “Look after them, Kim, alright? I trust you’ll keep Y/N in check until then.” 

“I will, coach.” Seungmin assures with a nod and a smile himself, slinging an arm over your waist to help you balance yourself before turning you towards the direction of the entrance doors and concluding, “We’ll be off now!” 

“Alright, see you!” You hear coach Park bid you goodbye before you pass through the double doors of the entrance, getting pulled to the direction of the parking lot by Seungmin after. 

“I thought you’re buying me an extra bento box? And iced coffee?” You ask when you don’t make the turn leading to the College of Architecture, following Seungmin straight ahead to his car parked right across the building entrance anyway. “Ya, Minnie—”

“I texted Changbin to buy, it should be at your dorm’s kitchen by now.” Seungmin answers casually, taking out his keys from his hoodie pocket and pointing it to his car. Once you near the vehicle, he then opens the door for you on the front passenger seat, wordlessly taking your gym bag and placing it in the back along with his backpack. “If not, then I’ll just drive back here, I don’t have anywhere to be today.” 

You smile at the thought, happily putting on your seatbelt. “I love you, have I said that this week?” You chuckle, wrapping an arm behind his waist in a side hug before he can close the door. “You’re the best, capt.!” 

“It’s weird when you call me capt.” He feigns a scowl, patting your head and briefly hugging you back anyway. “And you only love me because I practically babysit you.” 

"I never even asked to be babysit in the first place.” You pout, following him with your eyes even when he closes the door and moves to the other side of the vehicle to the driver’s seat. Turning your body to his direction as he turns on the ignition and starts driving away, you then add, “You’re supposed to say you love me too, capt.” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes in an attempt to move your eyes away from the wild blush on his cheeks. “Put your seatbelt on.” He steers the conversation instead, placing a hand behind your headrest as he backs the car away from the parking. 

“‘I love you too’?” 

“What do you want to do when we get to your dorm?” 

“Okay, I’ll take that. How about you choose the movie for today?” 

three - wednesday

Though he never demands you for it from knowing full-well your own busy training schedule and classes, you’ve always made sure to attend each and every baseball game Seungmin participates in ever since you were children to cheer him on and he’s always thought that that’s your own version of showing your affection to him in return for his support for you. Though you can get a bit embarrassing cheering on him the loudest and always wearing his extra old jerseys to the games, he never complains about it anyway and only argues with you after the game about other things, mostly you skipping your own training to see him or attending his games instead of resting at home like today. It definitely is love—simultaneously a heartwarming and worrying one at that.

So today, at his baseball team’s scrimmage, he’s not even that surprised anymore when you show up with Jeongin by your side, insisting that your cuts and bruises are already manageable enough to let you walk without needing much help. He is, however, still worried over your well-being as usual. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks you for the fourth time since you met up right outside the field, an arm draped over your shoulder as you walk. Ahead of you, Jeongin and Yuna have already reserved seats along with the rest of your friend group, chatting away with some members of the team. “And you’re not skipping any training today?”

“I already told you, Minnie,” You giggle, limping a little from your blisters and leaning most of your weight to him with your hand on his waist. “My next training’s next week, you were even there when Coach Park reminded me! And it’s not like I’m playing, I’m just going to watch you today!” 

“I’m mainly worried about your blisters since you were training last Sunday. You could’ve just rested at the dorms today.” He points out, sitting you down next to Jeongin on the aisle before kneeling right in front of you. “It’s just a scrimmage, anyway.” 

“But I don’t want to miss a game,” You insist stubbornly, smiling reassuringly at him and his furrowed eyebrows. “and even if it’s just a scrimmage, it’s still you playing. I want to see you play.” 

With this, Seungmin eventually sighs in defeat. “Whatever, not like I can walk you home now and get back to the game in time.”

“I’m already here and you can’t do anything about it.” You affirm with a chuckle, patting his arm. “Now, go, shoo, you have a scrimmage to win.” 

Seungmin then turns to Jeongin, gesturing to you as he stands up, “Look after Y/N, please?” 

“If you mean look after them as in not letting them topple over the seats then sure.” Jeongin nods with a laugh. 

“Hey, I don’t—!”

But, as if ignoring your protests, Seungmin nods gratefully and bids you two goodbye. “Thanks!” He then turns to his teammates before you could even finish another sentence, ushering everyone to jog back to the field. “Okay, guys, chat time’s over. Let’s head to the field!”

“Ay, Seung, don’t get too flustered over Y/N now!” Jisung reminds him with a hand over the younger boy’s shoulders and a snicker, tapping on the mound with his glove as the two reach their designated positions. “Jeno’s pitching, too, you might get hit in the face if you’ll just keep looking at your Y/N.” 

“Shut up, Ji.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, tapping on the mound as well with his bat just as Jeno signals from across the diamond, preparing to pitch. With one last glance at you, he then mutters to himself, “Aish, why did they even come today? They’re injured.” 

Jisung opens his mouth to speak behind his helmet to ask what Seungmin could mean with his last comment but he’s inadvertently cut off by Jeno signaling for everyone to get ready, expertly throwing the first ball which Seungmin instinctively hits hard with his bat, prompting him to start running to first base before Daehwi and Eunwoo could even retrieve it by the chain link fences of the field, thus leaving Jisung to his thoughts. 

“Yay, let’s go Kim Seungmin!” You cheer and yell from the bleachers, almost standing up with a struggle until Jeongin pulls you down by your arms, most likely to remind you of your injuries, which Seungmin is more than grateful for. “Go Minnie! Number 22! Number 22!” 

As he runs, Seungmin makes sure to wave at you in responds when he passes by your bleachers, sending a bashful smile your way that only fuels more teasing from Jeongin without him noticing. You wave both hands back in response before he could turn his eyes back ahead, sinking in your seat as he now tries to aim for second base seeing everyone moving a bit slower than usual. 

Eventually, he makes it to second base just in time, sliding into the plate and narrowly missing Daehwi’s attempt at getting him out. 

“Yay, let’s go Seungmin!” He hears you yell and clap loudly again, making his ears heat up and everyone in the diamond to stifle their giggles. 

“Hey, isn’t Y/N injured from last Saturday?” Daehwi asks at belatedly noticing your presence.

Seungmin then stands up and dusts the dirt off his uniform, adjusting his cap and turning his focus to Jeno and Hyunjin (who bats next) ahead. “I insisted that they skip today’s game since it’s just a scrimmage but you know how they are.” 

“Really? That’s so sweet!” Daehwi squeals in delight, waving at you and the others from others bleachers. “and here everyone thought that Y/N skipping training was already cute enough! They just outdo themselves every time!” 

“Way to romanticize injuries, Dae.” Seungmin scoffs, hiding a smile from Daehwi. Simultaneously, Jeno signals again that the game is about to start, preparing to pitch. “Seriously, it’s not cute. I’m more worried than flattered.” 

“Right, because waving at them while running was definitely being worried,” Daehwi chuckles, getting in position again. “Just say you’re whipped and go.”

“You wish,” Seungmin scrunches up his nose, successfully dodging Daehwi again and leaving him on the second base. “but I do have to get going now!” 

“Ya!” 

“Woo! Go Seungmin!” You yell loudly and repeatedly again, until he successfully reaches home base which prompts you to finally stand up and jump around in cheer despite the pain your lower half. “Way to go Seungmin!” 

Seungmin can only roll his eyes at you as he walks off the field, scoffing in disbelief when you don’t stop cheering even as he approaches you from the other side of the chain link fences since he’s already done for this particular inning. 

“Why are you up? You’re injured.” He frowns, his hands going up the chain links. “Sit down, Y/N.”

“I’m fine!” You dismiss, sitting down anyway when Jeongin and Yuna start tugging on your shirt for you to sit down. “But, more importantly, you did well!” 

“It’s just the first inning—and a scrimmage.”

“Scrimmage, formal game, it’s all the same, you don’t have to say it twice.” You retort, rolling your eyes and chuckling. “You looked really cool out there!” 

The last comment definitely catches Seungmin off-guard but he hides it better this time, waving his hand in front of him. “It was nothing.” 

“So modest,” You scoff with a proud smile, leaning forward and linking your hands between the chain links. “What do you want after the game? Ice cream? Tteokbeokki?” 

“Don’t stand up too much during the game and I’ll think about it,” He answers instead. “and we’re not going anywhere after this with your injuries. I’m taking you straight home.”

“Fine.” You huff in defeat, gesturing to his teammates after. “Okay, now go back, Jeno’s looking at us weird.” 

“Don’t stand up again!”

“I won’t!”

- 

Seungmin meets up with you again after the game. When the scrimmage ends later that afternoon with Jeno’s team winning at 14-18 and everyone heading straight to the showers, he sees you with Jeongin right outside of the locker rooms, sitting on a nearby bench while the younger boy pesters you with questions on your summer training and last Saturday’s game.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung, accompanying Seungmin on the way out, greets you with an innocent slap to your back before your best friend could, making you wince in pain. “Oh, shit, sorry!” 

“Ya,” Seungmin reprimands him firmly, slapping Jisung’s hand away from you before helping you up from the bench. “Careful, Y/N’s injured.” 

“Why?” Jisung asks curiously, making everyone turn to him.

“Derby last Saturday.” You answer sheepishly, leaning your weight to Seungmin again appreciatively as he helps you balance yourself. “Got knocked out before scoring a point.”

“You would’ve seen if you didn’t have a date that day.” Hyunjin adds, playfully catching Jisung in a chokehold as your group now walks out of the lockers rooms and outside the field. “It was so bloody as fuck, they were against the league veterans!”

“You make it sound like I died and got resurrected.” You scoff, reaching out for Hyunjin with a struggle and slapping his arm.

“Don’t entertain him too much, he’s just dramatic.” Seungmin assures you, eliciting protests from Hyunjin.

“Really?” Meanwhile, Jisung frowns in jealously, prying Hyunjin off of him and kicking him from behind his knees as a comeback. “Ay, I really would’ve gone if only Haneul liked watching derby.”

“They don’t seem to like watching sports in general,” Jeongin points out bluntly, you nodding along to his right. “why are you still going out with this person, even? Clearly, they’re not interested in your major passion.”

“Because I like them,” the boy in question shrugs without hesitation, making you tilt your head in confusion. “I mean, Haneul’s cool but we—I guess we never really talked about the whole sports thing.”

“Why not? Bro, you’re aiming for the national team.” Hyunjin prods this time. By now, your group has reached and stopped on the sidewalk of the main campus road where you’re supposed to part ways since Jeno’s hosting a get-together but Seungmin’s insisted on taking you home. “In a few years, it’s gonna be weird being in games and having one less person to cheer you on, especially if that person’s your girlfriend.”

“Well, not everyone’s lucky enough to being in love with people who have similar hobbies as they do.” Jisung rolls his eyes dryly, his gaze instinctively landing to you and Seungmin after which only prompts you to raise an eyebrow while Seungmin glares at Jisung.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making Jisung chuckle.

“Nothing, nothing.” He waves his hand dismissively at you before turning to Hyunjin and Jeongin. “Anyway, Haneul and I will talk about it again more later on. Personally, I’m not that bothered right now—I’m just happy we get to hang out.”

“But that’s because you started dating before any major games.” Seungmin speaks up after a while. 

Jeongin nods in agreement. “We’ll really just have to see next Friday if you still think that way.”

“Seung, Y/N always attends our games so I don’t think you’re qualified to speak over my love life.” Jisung deadpans, prompting Seungmin to hit him again. “Ow! But it’s true!”

“What?” You scoff, finally getting what he means but pretending to not know anyway in embarrassment.

“Whatever.” Seungmin huffs dismissively at Jisung, directing you away from the group now. “Anyway, we’ll get going now. It’s getting late.”

“We’re seriously going home?” You frown up at Seungmin who’s now standing behind you, both his hands on your shoulders as he moves you to the opposite direction of where the rest of the boys are going. “I was hoping you’d change your mind last minute.”

“I didn’t bring my car here today and Jeno’s dorm’s on the other side of campus.” Seungmin answers your question, waving goodbye to the others. “Come on, let’s go home. We can order again or something.”

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, letting him walk you backwards as you reluctantly wave goodbye at everyone. “Bye, guys. I guess I’ll see you next Friday.”

“Bye!” Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin wave back at you as they laugh over your frown, the eldest boy making sure to add, “Have fun on your date!”

“It’s not a date!” You yell back at him in exasperation, making the three laugh.

“We’ll make sure to eat well for you!” Jisung teases, winking at you before Seungmin could pull you to the left turn leading back to your dorms. Before you completely part ways, you hear him yell, “Alright, now let’s eat samgyeopsal!”

Heading back to your dorm now, Seungmin stands next to you again, draping his arm over your shoulder again and matching your pace. You walk in comfortable silence for a while, that is until you think about Jisung’s words once again, prompting you to ask, “What was that about by the way?”

“What?”

“The thing with Haneul.” You clarify, tearing your gaze away from him to look down on the ground. “Jisung said something about other people being lucky that they like people who have similar hobbies then looked at you.”

“Looked at me? I thought he was looking at you?” Seungmin tries to joke awkwardly before stopping when you don’t laugh along. “It’s nothing, he’s just being weird.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him only to meet his side profile. Taking a quick inhale, you then try asking, “Seungmin...do you perhaps—do you like anyone lately?”

At that, Seungmin almost trips over nothing uncharacteristically, his grip on your shoulder accidentally tightening when he holds onto you for support. “Sorry, um—w-what?”

“It’s just,” You shrug awkwardly, feeling smaller under his arm now that your impulsive question suddenly made the air awkward. You walk slower now, despite your dorm being only a block away now. “what Jisung said and—and, you know, you’ve been busy lately.”

“Yeah, because of you and classes.” He points out, still with furrowed eyebrows. “I don’t—I don’t have time to date.”

“But do you want to?”

“Hm?”

“I-If you weren’t busy with classes, training...looking after my clumsy ass and all—would you...would you want to date anyone? Do you like...someone?” You clarify as clearly and as eloquently as you can against the pain on your feet from walking and the sudden loud hammering of your heart against your chest. Why did I even ask? You can only scold yourself internally, keeping a front anyway now that you’re in too deep to change the topic now.

Next to you, Seungmin thinks about your question carefully. He’s not actually thinking about the question per se, more like thinking about why you would ask such question. Are you expecting some kind of answer? “I...” He trails off in thought, catching your gaze momentarily from the corner of his eye. “N-No, not really.”

“Oh.” You muse out loud, trying your best to hide your disappointment. “I guess that’s understandable. You’re aiming for the national team, after all.”

Seungmin then stops walking altogether, making you stop. In front of you, you see your dorm building coming into view, confusing you even more when he moves in front of you.

“No, it’s....“ He shrugs, looking down on his hands before flitting his eyes up again to you. “all my time’s for you, classes, and training right now and it’s fine. Sure, the end goal’s the national team but at the same time, I have all I need right now—dating just so happens to not really a top priority right now.”

You nod slowly with a low hum, smiling at his sincerity after a while. “So I’m top priority?”

At your comment, his sincere facade immediately fades into a scoff, rubbing his temples up in frustration. “I answer your question sincerely and all you pick up is you being a priority?” He asks in disbelief, making you laugh. “And here I was, about to offer you piggyback again.”

“I was just kidding!” You bluff in between laughs, extending your arms out for him to carry you. “Piggyback, please! I live on the third floor!”

“Maybe if you didn’t respond weirdly to my emotional rant—“

“Ya, Seungmin!” You protest, hopping on your better foot and jumping on his back before he could even move away from you. “Ha! Got you!” 

Reluctantly, Seungmin then adjusts the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder and hooks his arms under your legs. “If you’re not so injured right now, I’d drop you on the ground.” He hoists you up on his back with a groan, continuing to walk forward anyway. “Ah, this brat.” 

You chuckle, pinching his cheeks before resting your arms on his shoulders. “But seriously...” You trail off with an awkward cough. “Just date, dude, you can multitask, better than me at least.” 

You then hear Seungmin mumble under his breath, “Maybe if...” but you fail to catch the last words as he then shakes his head and adds, “Ah, whatever. How did we even get to this kind of talk?” 

five - saturday 

As if the universe is conspiring against you, you end up getting severely injured halfway through your next derby game the following Saturday. When the score is 45-70 in favor of the opposing team, you end up taking a nasty fall after successfully scoring a point, causing a broken nose. 

So much for all the talks you had with Seungmin in the past days, you think to yourself as you catch his surprised gaze from across the rink. 

Maybe it’s also because of how you’ve been talking to him a lot lately about his concerns for you and this sport that he immediately rushes to your side as Yuna and Yeji help you walk from the rink to the locker room as Jaemin suddenly announces a short break. Quickly and gently taking your arm from Yeji’s shoulder from the sides of the rink, the next three minutes are a bit of a blur to you as Seungmin multitasks between examining your bruises, assuring your teammates that he can take care of you, and walking you to the nearest bathroom—all the while scolding you under his breath. 

You can only pout at him the whole way, letting him drag you along with him until he’s hoisting you up again on top of the sink counter much like every other Saturday. 

Except it feels a bit different this time, especially since Seungmin has never looked this worried since you started this sport 2 months ago.    

“Okay, let’s see that bloody nose again.” He asks you after a while, tilting your face downwards with his one hand (the other holding an ice pack from Jaemin) and scrunching up his nose with furrowed eyebrows. “Yikes.” 

“I’m sort of choking here a bit.” You point out, shifting uncomfortably in your place at the feeling of blood on your tongue and the realization that you also have small cuts on your lips. “Um...” 

You see his eyebrows furrow deeper in thought as he then turns to his side and places his backpack next to you, temporarily placing the ice pack in the space between your leg and his backpack and taking out a first aid kit. “That bad? Fuck.” He hisses under his breath, more to himself than to you, as he proceeds to prepare a whole bag of cotton balls, wipes, and ointment. “I can clean and ice this up but we’ll have to go immediately after this and get you checked out at the clinic across the street.” 

“Really?” You wince at seeing Seungmin hold up a wet wipe to your face. “So I can’t finish the game?” 

“You’re face is broken and you’re thinking about the game? Y/N, please...” He sighs disapprovingly at you, cupping your chin again and lightly dabbing on the trail of blood on your face with the wet wipe. “Try to hold in the pain for a bit while I clean your face and maybe try not to think about the game.” 

"Sorry...” You trail off, pouting up at Seungmin and earning you another sigh from him. 

“This is the worst I’ve seen you.” He muses out loud, his furrowed eyebrows slowly softening as he purses his lips. “What even happened back there? It was all too quick for me, to be honest.” 

“The other team’s jammer bumped me a bit too harsh.” You reply slowly, careful of the blood on your lips and the sting you feel from inhaling. In front of you, Seungmin unconsciously winces through carefully cleaning your face. “We were skating on the slope going up so I ended up hitting my face on the barriers.” 

“They’re visitors, right?” He asks you next and you nod quietly in response. “I’ll have to remind Jaemin to talk to them. If not, I’ll talk to them myself...” 

“Seungmin—”

“You fell really bad, they should be accountable.” He insists anyway. “Even if derby’s a violent sport, there are still limits to it and this is just too much.”     

You unconsciously mirror Seungmin’s frown the longer he stares down at the bloodied lower half of your face, your shoulders slouching deeply when he finally reaches the end of the drying red trail on your chin with his third wet wipe. The physical pain of a broken nose and a bruised lip can’t even compete with the guilt pooling in your stomach now as you observe your best friend’s disappointed expression, making you wince less and sigh more in front of him at knowing full well that it’s all because of how you played tonight. “Just say it already.”

“Say what?” He mumbles back, now with a raised eyebrow at you as he disposes off the used wet wipes next to you on top of the sink counter. He then passes you the ice pack, guiding your hands to slowly move it up to your nose. “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” 

You see the genuine anticipation in his eyes of what you meant by your words, making you look down on your free hand rested right on top of the faint bruise marks on your lap. “That I’m being stupid for pursuing this sport, that I should stop playing.” You answer quietly as you shift in your seat. “It’s just that we were talking about this exact thing for the whole week and then it happens and now you look so upset so I thought...” 

In front of you, you hear Seungmin sigh before gently tilting your chin up again, meeting your eyes with a soft gaze before moving his hands up to carefully massage your cheeks. “Ya, you’re not stupid,” He shakes his head. “you’re just clumsy sometimes but that’s because you keep forgetting that you’re supposed to be on wheels here and not blades.”

“Ya—”

“And this incident wasn’t your fault.” He adds after a while, when you don’t immediately speak. “I’m not mad at you, just frustrated. I’m mad at the other team, though.”

"Seungmin—” You huff in his touch, cracking a small and brief smile on his face.

“Anyway, I still think you should lessen playing, especially since the semester’s about to start again.” He interjects quickly before you can even say another word, briefly turning to your side to pass you another bundle of face tissues when he hears you sniffling. “but I’ll never ask you to stop playing completely because I know you really enjoy this. The same applies to the other one, of course.”

“Besides, what sport doesn’t involve getting hurt?” He adds as an after thought, taking out two plies of tissue for your incoming cold and the stray tear on your cheek.

“Um, board games?” You muse out loud as you take the tissues in his hands and place them in between your face and your ice pack, fully cracking his serious façade this time as he breaks into a scoff.

“You know what I mean.” You see Seungmin roll his eyes at you, making you purse your lips as a smile tries making its way on your cuts. When he sees your reaction, his thumb instinctively moves over to your bottom lip, stopping you from smiling. “Don’t smile, dummy, we just fixed that lip cut.”

The gesture makes your heart flip and your gaze unconsciously softens at him as you watch him dispose of all your trash with a small ‘alright, done.’ under his breath. “Have I told you I love you this week?” You speak in a low voice with no intention of sounding teasing at all this time, giving him a tight-lipped smile when he looks up at you again in confusion. “You’re the best, capt.” 

It takes him a moment to process your words, especially with the unusual tone in your voice. Eventually, you see him return your smile. “You already did. I’m just looking out for you as usual.” He shrugs bashfully, offering you a hand which you gladly accept when you stand. “I love you too...” 

“I know.” You nod, tugging on him by your intertwined hands and pressing a light kiss on his cheek when he tilts his head to your side. “I’m sorry again.” 

“You’re being soft all of a sudden.” He points out, biting down a small smile. “It’s probably the fall.” 

You roll your eyes at him, pressing the ice pack closer to your face. “How many minutes do I have to hold this ice again?” 

“If you’re thinking of throwing that on my face, I’ll have you know I can deny you entry on my game next Friday.” He warns, placing his hand on the ice pack again to check your wound. “Fifteen more minutes. I’ll text Jaemin and Yeji for now, the clinic should still be open at this time.” 

[waitimcomingtoo]

would it be too much to ask for another part of plank all over me? maybe this time is an autocomplete interview with both of them and there‘s rumors going around that they’re engaged or that she’s pregnant so they’re acting all mysterious for it... thank you so much ❤️ i loooove your stories!!

Plank All Over Me - Autocomplete Interview Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: You and Tom do a WIRED autocomplete interview

Disclaimer: you do not have to have read the other parts to understand this, but check them out ;)

Plank All Over Me

Yoga Edition

Couples Tag

Prank Interview

Waitimcomingtoo Masterlist

“Hi, I’m Andrew Garfield.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Emma Stone.” You blew a kiss at it.

“And this is our weird Autocomplete Interview.” Tom finished.

“It’s WIRED.” You giggled at his mistake.

“What’s wired?” Tom asked you.

“Nothing’s wired. The channel is WIRED.” You corrected. “You said “weird”.”

“My apologies.” Tom said to the camera and he rested his hand on your knee. “This is our WIRED Autocomplete Interview.”

“Dyslexic king.” You praised and Tom laughed. 

“I like how these videos gradually get more and more chaotic as we make them.” He smiled at the thought of the other stupid videos you’d done together.

“I can’t wait to be 80 and playing with puppies over at Buzzfeed.” You joked.

“You and me both, darling.” Tom leaned in and kissed you. “Should we start with mine or yours?” He asked as he picked up the boards of questions.

“I like to save the best for last, so yours first.” You quipped and Tom gave the camera a blank stare.

“Isn’t she sweet?” Tom said sarcastically. You picked up his first board and peeled off the first strip of paper.

“Who is…Tom Holland.” Tom read off the board.

“I bet my mom was the one who googled that when I told her we were dating.” You said and Tom laughed.

“My mom probably googles “who does Tom Holland think he is?” when I’m acting up.” Tom added.

“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth with your hands. “Have I ever told you when your mom and I call you when you’re acting up?”

“No, what?” Tom inquired.

“No. I can’t.” You shook your head. “It’s our secret.”

“What? You have to tell me.” Tom shook your arm like a little kid. “Please?”

“Fine.” You sighed. “We call you Bitchy Elliot.”

“WHAT?” Tom screamed and you bent over laughing. “WHAT?”

“You wanted to know!” You reminded him.

“Bitchy Elliot? That’s not even clever.” He scoffed.

“It’s clever.” You disagreed. Tom picked up the board and dramatically ripped off a strip of paper.

“Who is Tom Holland…civil war.” You read amidst your giggles.

“Like who do I play?” Tom asked the camera.

“No, silly. They’re asking if you were on the North side or the South side of the American civil war.” You replied as if it were obvious.

“Oh, well I’m from Southwest-“ Tom began.

“The south was the racist side.” You interrupted.

“North.” Tom said definitively.

“I knew you didn’t know enough about American history to answer that question.” You laughed as you peeled the next strip off.

“Who is Tom Holland…girlfriend.” Tom read off the board.

“Whoever she is, I bet she loves proper grammar.” You poked fun at the phrasing.

“Y/n almost canceled our first date because I texted her and used the wrong form of “your”.” Tom told the camera.

“I think I was being completely reasonable.” You defended.

“Were you?” Tom squinted at you.

“Yes.” You answered and brushed his hair back. “Next question.”

“Where did Tom Holland…college.” Tom asked as he peeled the strip off.

“Oh God, where did Tom Holland college?” You asked in sarcastic amazement.

“I didn’t college.” Tom answered. “And I don’t think whoever asked this question did either.”

“Where did Tom Holland…meet Y/n.” You asked as you revealed the next question.

“We met over at BBC Radio 1 when we did the Plank All Over Me Challenge.” Tom replied with a smile.

“And I haven’t been unable to get rid of him since.” You said sadly. Tom rolled his eyes and peeled off the next question.

“Shut up.” He teased. “You love me.”

“Most days.” You agreed.

“Is Tom Holland…in the MCU.” Tom read off the board.

“He is!” You said excitedly. “I actually almost left the MCU when the Sony/Disney thing was going on because I didn’t want to be in it if Tom wasn’t.”

“She was two seconds away from not renewing her contract for Venom 2, so you have me thank for it happening.” Tom boated.

“Or we have the cast and crew to thank.” You suggested.

“Or me.” Tom shrugged as he revealed the next question. “Is Tom Holland…taller than Y/n.”

“You could ask “is Tom Holland taller than…” and no matter who you fill in the blank with, the answer would be no.” You stated.

“Haha!” Tom said sarcastically. “Read the next question.”

“Anything for you, shorty.” You laced your fingers though his and kissed the back of his hand. “Is Tom Holland…engaged.” You smirked a little when you read the question. Engagement rumors had been off the charts lately and you and Tom decided to be vague.

“I don’t know, is he?” Tom looked at the camera and tilted his head.

“Like engaged to a girl or engaged in combat?” You stroked your chin.

“Well he’s definitely not engaged in combat.” Tom confirmed and wiped his brow.

“So is he engaged to a girl?” You kept up the act.

“I can’t tell. He’s very mysterious. And very handsome.” He added.

“I wouldn’t go that far but he is pretty private about his personal life. I wish I could ask him.” You leaned your chin on your hand and sighed.

“I heard he’s pretty difficult to get a hold of.” Tom said sadly.

“Yeah. Maybe someone should give him a ring, see if he’ll answer.” You looked at the camera and shrugged. Tom peeled off the next question and dropped the paper on the floor.

“Is Tom Holland…British.” He read.

“He’s Australian.” You answered confidently as you revealed the next question.

“Does Tom Holland…drive.” He read off the board.

“No. He usually winds up his ears and flies off.” You said into the camera with a straight face. “They flutter like butterfly wings and that’s how we get around.”

“I think I know the answer to “is Tom Holland engaged?” now.” Tom mumbled.

“What’s the answer?” You asked him.

“No.” He told you before breaking into laughter. You cupped his face and kissed him swiftly as an apology.

“Was that your last one?” You asked when you noticed the lack of boards.

“Oh I guess it was.” Tom looked around. “Your turn.”

“Who is Y/n L/n…mcu.” You read. “Uh I play Iron Man.”

“She plays Iron Man very well.” Tom added as he peeled off the next question. “Is Y/n L/n…pregnant. Wow, second question.”

“Do I look pregnant?” You sassed the camera.

“Is Y/n L/n…engaged.” Tom read the next one.

“Nope, just pregnant.” You nodded.

“Is Y/n L/n…married.” Tom revealed the following question.

“Married to the money.” You answered and Tom chuckled.

“Is Y/n L/n…Tom Holland’s girlfriend.” Tom smiled as he read the next one.

“Depends on who you ask.” You shrugged.

“No, always.” Tom said, a little offended.

“Depends.” You shrugged again.

“Depends on what? Who would say no?” Tom questioned you.

“Me, if a cute boy asked.” You joked. He made a face and you laughed before kissing him.

“Is Y/n L/n…engaged to Tom Holland.” Tom read the next one.

“Im engaged in this conversation with Tom Holland.” You replied.

“Why does everyone keep asking if we’re engaged?” Tom asked with fake curiosity.

“Because we are.” You deadpanned.

“Oh right.” Tom matched your seriousness before you both burst into laughter.

“They’re probably asking because of the prank interview we did with Conor and Josh.” You reminded him.

“We didn’t say we were engaged.” Tom said.

“But we talked about marriage.” You countered.

“Guys, we’re not engaged.” Tom said to the camera.

“But Tom is pregnant.” You pointed at the camera. Tom laughed before peeled off the next question.

“Did Y/n L/n…win the plank challenge.” He read.

“I don’t even remem-“ You started.

“I won.” Tom stated. “I hold the record.”

“Well there you have it.” You laughed.

“Did Y/n L/n-“ He started to read the next one.

“Ryan Reynolds.” You cut him off.

“Oh okay.” Tom nodded as he peeled the next one. “Does Y/n L/n…have a boyfriend.”

“See the above answer.” You smiled at the camera.

“This is a video. There is no above answer.” Tom sassed. “And your boyfriend is not Ryan Reynolds.” He added quietly.

“Don’t remind me.” You sighed sadly. Tom made a mock hurt face and you pouted.

“Aw.” You laughed. “I love you.” You pulled him close to you and covered his face in kisses.

“Okay. I love you too.” Tom kissed your cheek. “There’s one more. Does Y/n L/n…John Mulaney.”

“I genuinely do not know how to answer that question.” You said after a minute of silence.

“I genuinely don’t know if that is a question.” Tom added.

“I think that’s a great way to end the interview.” You laughed. “Thanks John Mulaney.”

“Thank you for watching our Autocomplete Interview.” Tom grinned. “I’m Tom Holland.”

“And I’m engaged to Tom Holland.” You finally confirmed as you held up the hand with the ring. “Goodbye!”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @loveat2am @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @delicately-important-trash @mjspxrker @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @kii-mii @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @vgiselle @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

[mydayserenade]

My Dear Starlight

Yunho x OC

rom, angst, fluff (???)

first time playing around w/ this kind of genre so apologies if its shitty

i suggest listening to Fix You by Coldplay cause it will definitely send you to sad hours while reading

"Do you remember the last time we went star-gazing? It was the night before I eventually confessed to you, we were lying on the grass and I was pretty much sleep deprived and alongside handling an empty stomach that was growling" he said and chuckled, reminiscing the sweet moment ever so vividly like it happened just yesterday. Yunho took his attention off the sky and watched silently as his fiance gaze the starry night without even noticing him staring at her like she was the brightest thing to ever exist as of the moment, which has always been a thing for them to do to each other... but mostly Yunho.

"I do dummy, can you believe it has been 5 years since then? Time flies so fast" Luna responded, leaning towards her right side to get a closer look at Yunho's visuals "And now here we are, engaged and a few months away from officially tying the knot." she giggled, toying with the necklace that he gave to her during their first anniversary and looked back at the night once more to admire it; the moon dawned on them like a bright spotlight, the sky was as blue as the deep sea, complimenting the shining stars that laced the sky, telling tales of long lost lovers which completed the visually angelic twilight that these two would share for hours.

Yunho looks over to his paramour with the endearment in his doey eyes and smiles ever so sweetly as she laid beside him, interlocking hands with one another and her hair that sprawled like beautiful waves; in a swift move he sits himself up and props Luna to lay down on his chest. Luna responds in a squeak, shocked by the sudden gesture her fiance did.

"Whenever you miss me" Yunho broke the silence between them and rested his cheek on the head of his soon-to-be Mrs. Jeong, she flinches as she felt his warm arms wrap around her chest, feeling his heartbeat going at a slow but steady pace.

"Um, where are you going with this?" she asked confusingly as Yunho snuggled on her neck, inhaling the delicate perfume that he oh so loved whenever she would put it on; he breathes in the intoxicating fragrance and lets out a satisfied sigh before he continued.

"It's just an intrusive thought" he replied and continued to snuggle, "but whenever you miss me while I'm away or when I suddenly get called by the House of Hufflepuff" he said jokingly in the last part, receiving a slap on the arm by her and continued on. "Look up at the night sky and think of me. My mom always told me that I had a special connection with celestial things most especially stars. I thought it was just nonsense she shared with me as a teenager but as I got older and took into consideration the feelings I had and enviroment or situations I was in, I did notice a few things that made me convinced that my mom was indeed right about her speculations." Luna was bewildered, all she could do was laugh. This was the first time she has ever heard of this story from Yunho considering the fact they've been together for 5 years, 24/7, 365 and he would often share his most atrocious memories; even his embarassing ones. She looked up at Yunho who was looking straight at her, showing how perplexed she was by her furrowed brows and confused grin.

"So you're telling me, God decided to make your bloodline 40% human and 60% celestial and as you age the more you feel connected with these things, will somehow tingle in your bones and signal you to shoot supernovas out of your hands like Starfire or some shit whenever it's nightime?" she asks.

"You're phrasing it like it's a crazy Sci-Fi movie Luna, I wasn't even finished." Yunho eyerolls and massages the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh of annoyance. Luna enjoyed teasing him and seeing him all fired up; even if Yunho had a fierce exterior that people would be afraid of approaching, only few knew his childish side and how young at heart he was for things that he loved and took interest in.

"Go on continue, I was just annoying you." she giggles at the sight of him pouting and scrunching up his nose, Yunho takes a deep breath before he proceeds to the next.

"Eversince I was a little boy and when there were times where I had no one to play around with" Yunho looks up at the stars and grows a grin on his face as he points upward "they were always my companion and relate to how I was feeling. Whenever I felt happy, it would always blink at me, become bigger in size and blind me with its light; however when I felt sad, it would always shrink and release very little light. It would sometimes respond to the many queries I had and decisions by its blinking, it somehow felt like I had a mood lamp with me everywhere I go." he crooks his head to the right, scoffing at the many memories of him that flashed in his mind. "Even if I had no one to talk to at that time, as crazy as it sounds, the stars comforted me in a way that is unexplainable."

"It felt like someone understood the things you were going through like no one else has, almost as if you had an alternate you up in the galaxies." Luna looked up at how Yunho admired each white dot with the happiness in his eyes, looking so astonished like a little kid who just visited a candy store for the very first time. She now understood the many moments where he would suddenly look up the sky while driving, walking or even eating and just stare for seconds before eventually returning to what he was doing, almost as if he was thanking the heavens above or checking up on them like they were part of his family.

"You understand now? Whenever that time comes, just look up and I'm there." He whispers in Luna's ear, hands interlocking with hers and giving her a soft kiss on the head. Luna couldn't help but tear up by the gentle gesture Yunho did, the tale he had told and the thought of not seeing him for even a second. He was her rock and she was his, not a day would go by if they did not see each other in between the hours.

"I do Yunho, I do." she sits up and faces Yunho, cupping his face with her warm hands with Yunho gently caressing it and gives him a gentle kiss on the lips.

6 years later...

"I'm here" Luna whispered, standing in the middle of the silent and deserted park which was quiet enough to hear her; holding onto her precious necklace, she looked up the sky, admiring the white dots that scattered the sky. The stars were a bit different from normal, they were shining and twinkling more and more, almost as if it was calling out to her in morse code.

"You should really try and hide your excitement to a bare minimum, see this is why I never planned any surprise parties with you" she scoffed and sat down on the grass, closing her eyes and completely taking in the midnight breeze that brushed against her skin and blew on her hair. She lets out a sigh and toyed with the golden chain that was entangled on her fingers, feeling every abrasion and imperfection this necklace presented.

"You're probably wondering why I am here at 3 am in the morning" she said, fluttering her eyes to a vast field with streetlights surrounding it, "Awww man" Luna laughed, "You're most likely gonna kill me if I went out especially in this hour, well truth be told Mr. Jeong; are you battling me now with this cold gust of wind you blow?"

No one responds.

"I thought so too." she said under her breath as she hangs her head down, taking a deep breath before she continued to talk.

"I came here because I couldn't really sleep well these past few days and" she starts to choke up, sniffling and trying her absolute best to not break down, that's the last thing he would want Luna to do... especially in a time like this. "I don't know" she shrugs, rubbing her hands on her face. "I've been in my head too much, I've been emotionally unstable for the first time in a long time and I'm just" she suddenly pauses while a million thoughts circulates her mind. She urged herself to keep a strong and stable state for the past 6 years in front of friends and family, always say she was doing alright and all but deep down inside she was suffering the greatest loss of all and couldn't even bare to hold it in any longer.

"Yunho I'm so so so sorry" she lets out her tears, hysterically wailing on the field. She clutches her heart, completely lost her sense of reality and just wanted to scream out the pain and tiredness she has been holding on for the past few years, hiding behind a facadé so that people around her would not have to feel the burden that she might put on them. The countless nights of tear stained pillows and fake happy days were all weeped away at this night, she looks up at the skies; frozen and chanting swear words like a maniac.

"I'm sorry for not noticing sooner how much you suffered on the inside, for being such an asshole to you during those times and for not being enough of a friend and wife to you." she whimpered, losing all her might to prop herself up. In a graceful fall she lands on the grass, curled up, shiverring and clutching her knees amidst the cold breeze and moist grass under her.

"I'm a terrible person, I'm a fucking disgrace, and yet somehow I still exist in this world when it should've been you who is still alive. I tried my best to not worry you every night by saying I was doing okay, that I was living good and this and that, but for the past few days..." she closes her eyes and squeezes the pendant with her palm as tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, "The wave of guilt just hit me harder than ever and I honestly am not so sure I can carry on this shameful life that only keeps me breathing."

From the day she knew up until his deathbed, Yunho never wanted Luna to see him at his worst neither did he want her to struggle and pity him, but his condition allowed Luna to see her beloved slowly succumb bit by bit. As much as she wanted to help him; he would always brush it off, plaster on his dimpled smile and please her in the best of his abilities and strength even if his state wasn't the way it was before. He did not want Luna to regret the moments she had with him and only fill her memories with the pain that he had felt and the hardships he's going through. She didn't agree to any of his ordeals but he had tried and persuaded her to commit to his wishes, in the end however; it would only lead to many arguements and her cursing him out. Eventually she caved in and did the best she could to seize the days, nights and hours with the presence of her one and only love yet deep down inside she was guilty of not helping with his condition and wanted to cater to his medical needs even if she had to travel miles away to get what he asks for.

"I respected your wishes, I carried on the many months with you with a positive outlook and a cheery personality. I was happy during those times I'll admit, because I was by your side everyday until the last second of you breathing, but at the back of my mind I knew I should've gone against what you wanted me to do and assist to your needs." she runs her hand through her hair, fuming at the thought of herself not doing her part during the days of Yunho's struggles. "You told me that I shouldn't feel guilty as this isn't my fault that you were diagnosed with this and it isn't my business to meddle around something like this, but goddamnit Yunho" she breathes uncontrollably as tears yet again pools in her eyes "I'm your fucking wife! I'm your best friend! I have been with you for as long as I can remember and I have made a vow to you that I'm gonna take care of you and nurture you when needed until our hair turns gray and we are all wrinkled." She bursts into annoyance and disappointment. None of what she did made perfect sense to her, all she wanted was to cry and rewind time so that she can make up for the past mistakes she's done and the many regrets she wanted to be erased in her mind. Luna didn't have the energy to continue on and she just lied in the grass, sprawled out and cried until her lungs gave out. She felt pain, she felt disappointment, she felt useless, she felt defeated.

A blinding light then hovers over Luna's exhausted and tearstained body, at first she did not mind this but as the light lingered on her for how many minutes now, she was irritated to this God-like halo that did not want to leave her be. She then slowly opens her eyes and was immediately welcomed to a soft, bright and white light that the moon shined on her, way different from the previous. The stars then aligned, creating a mystical ceiling that somehow calmed Luna's nerves and distract her away from her thoughts, it shined excitingly but twinkled in a calm matter. Luna was in awe at how much beauty the sky emmited, she had completely felt relaxed and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. She goes on to bask under the moonlight and stars, breathing in and out and feeling liberated and worry-free, something she has never felt ever since Yunho was put to rest.

"Now I truly understand what you meant." she mumbled, feeling lighter than ever. Luna then proceeds to put back her shoes on and did a flying kiss to the air multiple times before she left the park. "I think I know what I need to do now." she smiled and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for giving me something I never believed in but eventually found myself with you, love." she sighs lovingly as she gets up and moves towards her car. She takes one last look at the stars and glances down the necklace she has been holding. "Thank you for tonight, see you soonest, my dear starlight."

[writing-essence]

It Ate My Cat

Chapter One: Sheet Faced

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Warnings: language, underage drinking, sexual harassment (billy being an ass)

Summary: You’ve known Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington since your first days moving to Hawkins. What happens when you get wrapped up in his interdimensional babysitting adventure with your younger brother?

Author’s Note: I started writing this a year ago and it’s all I've been thinking about. Another friends to lovers slow burn you’re welcome! -Milla

Word Count: 1,756

"Hey, Y/N! Tina from my chemistry class handed me a flyer to go to her Halloween Bash. I heard it's gonna be totally bitchin!" Amber, your friend, approached you holding a bright orange paper waving in her hand.

"Well,” you sighed, “I hope you have fun but I promised my mom I'd hand out the candy this year." You shut your locker turning on your heel down the hall.

"Oh c'mon I'm sure your mom won't mind and we don't have to show up 'til 8," she started to plead. "We haven't been to a party in forever and you need to talk to someone other than me, your brother or your cat."

You rolled your eyes and groaned. "Okay fine, I'll ask if I can go out. Happy?" She nodded her head with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. Amber was definitely more of the partier, it's not that you didn't like parties it's just too much of a gamble. Either you dance away into the night or you end up with your friends vomit on your shoes and your white t-shirt soaked by two idiots in the pool. And in your experience, it’s usually the ladder. You were unlocking your bike when Amber nudged your arm.

"So I'll meet you at your house around 7 tomorrow to get ready okay?"

"Is it a costume thing?" You asked and she nodded her blonde head. "So what are we even going to be? I don't have time to put together a costume. I still have to finish my brother's.”

"Don't worry about it, I got this. It'll be good, trust me," she winked waltzing off to the upper parking lot. She was a persuasive one.

The house was empty by the time you got home. Mom was at work and Dustin was most likely at the arcade with the party as they called themselves. "Well Mews, it looks like it's just you and me again," you said scratching under her chin. After grabbing an apple you headed to your room and pulled Dustin's costume out of the closet. After two hours of pricking your finger and pulling loose threads, you were finally finished. Dustin had gotten home about a half-hour ago from, you guessed it, the arcade.

"Dustin! I finished your costume!" You called. You heard the door next to yours open and a haphazard shuffle down the hall. He burst into your room zooming to where you sat at your desk.

"Thanks, Y/N, this is awesome!" His eyes were wide as he examined your handy work.

"Yeah sure and like we agreed you're doing dishes this month." His smile faltered but begrudgingly muttered out a confirmation and left the room still immersed in the costume.

You were helping your mom with dinner and decided now was as good a time as ever to ask about skipping candy duty tomorrow. "So mom, I finished Dusty's costume today. He loves it!" She nodded and mumbled an approving response. You cleared your throat, "ya know Amber invited me to her friends Halloween party and I know I said I'd help with candy duty but she really wants me to go," you continued nonchalantly chopping the vegetables until she replied.

"Oh sweetie, of course, you can go to a party! I didn't want you to feel left out tomorrow with Dusty going with his friends tomorrow since you’re usually the one to watch them, but now that you have plans, of course, you can go out!" She enthused.

You were taken aback as you thanked her. Maybe Amber was right, you did need to get out more. The kids were getting older and didn't need you to tag along on with them anymore. As fond, as you were of the rambunctious group, Johnathan had it covered. It was time for you to let loose for a night.

The next day flew by quick. Mom couldn't get over the costume you made for Dustin, absolutely gushing when taking pictures, the history test wasn't nearly as hard as you thought it'd be, and apparently, John and Becky were back together, at least according to Amber. Dustin had gone over to Mike’s so for the time being you were on candy duty. It was nearing 7 o'clock when there was a knock on the door revealing Amber and not a group of trick-or-treat-ers. She grabbed your arm and dragged you to your room with a bag in hand.

"Okay, I have the costumes!” She flung the paper bag across your bed. “You'll be Spock and I'll be Captain Kirk because I'm cooler." She pulled out a blue dress and tossed it to you. She had forced you to watch Star Trek a few times before and recalling what you had seen there was only a small issue.

"Woah, woah, woah does that mean I have to have weird eyebrows?" You asked. Amber simply sighed defeated.

"Okay fine you don't have to do the eyebrows!” she reasoned slowly inching towards you. “But in my heart, I know who you really are," she landed her pointer finger on your forehead. Looking up cross-eyed you pushed her hand away.

"You really are the weirdest person I know," you took the dress and changed.

You two rolled up to the party before 9 after getting ready and narrowly escaping your mother’s camera. The party was in full swing, a group of boys were in a huddle shouting what vaguely sounded like "Keg King" the boy in the middle was the new guy at school. The second you stepped in the door Amber headed straight for the punch which could only be spiked with god knows what. She handed you a cup and you swirled it around taking in your surroundings. She dragged you to the dance floor. While nursing your drink amidst the sweaty teenage bodies you started to let go. Nobody had a care in the world until Steve and Nancy made a scene by the punch bowl. As quick as the party stopped and all eyes were on them they shifted back to the music. You were finishing up your first cup while Amber was on her third.

"I hope we get arrested for underage drinking," she slung an arm over your shoulder.

"Why's that?" You asked knowing she's a lightweight, at this point in the night she was a goner.

"Because have you seen the sheriff? That ass in those pants wooo!" She lifted her cup to the air and spun around stumbling spilling some of her drink. 

"Okay, that's enough for you," You snorted taking the cup from her hand and placing it down on the counter. "Let's go sit down alright?" She nodded, giggling, continuing her inappropriate comments about the chief. Pushing through the crowded hallway you managed to find an empty room. You propped her up on the couch and handed her a cup of water. After much wrangling trying to get her to sober up, you went to refill the water. As you were walking down the hall the new guy caught up to you. You kept your head down breaking any eye contact and yet there he was still blocking your path.

"I don't think we've met, you know my name?" He asked leaning against the wall too close for comfort.

"Keg King?" You quipped at the denim-clad teen.

"Damn right it is!" He shouted and started chanting the nickname towards the group of boys behind him. The gaggle of goons continued their chant to the living room, leaving their king behind.  "Name’s Billy. And you?" He asked turning back to you putting his hand on your arm. You shook it off and reluctantly answered. "Well, Y/N what do you say we find an empty room?" His hand traveled to your waist. You flinched away from his grasp.

"In your dreams," you tried to push forward toward the kitchen but he closed you in against the wall.

"Let's try that again," his grip tightened to the point of hoping you wouldn't end up with a bruise tomorrow. You struggled to try to free yourself from between him and the wall. You started to panic when someone shouted from up the hall.

"Hey, asshole leave her alone!" 

You turned and saw Steve Harrington making his way towards the scene. He shoved Billy off of you and body checked him into a painting opposite you. Billy steadied himself to fight back but Steve had already stormed off through the crowd.

"Hey!" You ran after him weaving through the mess of drunken teens. "Steve!" He ignored your calls rushing outside towards his car. "Hey, Harrington!" You heaved catching your breath as he stood next to his car his back turned to you.

"What?" He snapped.

"I- just wanted to say-" you hesitated at his outburst, stepping closer. Your gratitude was interrupted by sniffling, “-are you okay?"

His keys jiggled as they hit the pavement. Before you could do anything arms were thrown around you and tears hit your shoulder. Unsure of the etiquette of the position you were in you patted his back and murmured words of comfort. Quickly he pulled away running his hands through his hair mumbling an "I'm sorry"

"You know Harrington we really have to stop meeting like this," you laughed trying to make light of the situation. He just shook his head staring at the ground. "Do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"She dumped me."

"What Nancy? I mean I know you guys had a punch incident but don't you think-" he cut you off.

"She said it was bullshit, everything." There was a flicker in his eye and he turned to his car. "Bullshit!" He kicked the front tire, aggression masking the tears. Your instincts jumped in from all of Dustin’s sporadic incidents over the years.

"Hey, hey, hey,” you jumped forward. “Look I get that it sucks but breaking your foot won't be much help,” you grabbed his shoulders leading him away from the scuffed tire. "Are you sure you’re okay to drive?" 

He looked up at me and nodded slowly letting out a deep breath. He unlocked his car door and looked back at you apologetically. "Uh thanks for- for that," he shrugged unsure what to call the exchange, you gave him a small smile in return.

"Stay safe Harrington," you said starting to walk backward towards the party.

"You too Henderson."

With that, he started up his car while you tracked down your very drunk friend.

[pastelpastryblog]

In love with my best friend 💗 - PH-1 chapter 4

Genre: Everything (angst/fluff/ romance/etc)

Main characters: Y/N (reader), PH-1/ Harry

Prev - Next

Back home before Harry left for university, Harry and I would always go to the theatres to watch movies. He bought tickets for us to watch “Bad boys for life” at 4:30pm but its 4pm and Kimberly is still at Harry’s house. I wouldn’t mind her being here and going to the movies with us if she was at least nice to me, but she isn’t. When me and harry would talk to each other, she makes sure that the conversation shifts to her, its like she really doesn’t want me to be here and it’s making me feel uncomfortable. I just wish that Harry could see that. Time is up and we decide to leave for the movies. Harry offered to drive us in his car, but I insist to drive instead because I knew Kimberley was going to be making remarks like “the girlfriend should always sit in the passenger seat, next to her boyfriend” and quite frankly, I didn’t want to hear it. As soon as she looks at my car, she already had something to say.

-          “So, this is the car that you want us to ride in? Jesus Christ, we should have just called an Uber” she torts out loud and obnoxiously

-          “Why don’t we ride in your car then, since mine isn’t good enough for you.” I defend myself and my car.

-          “Y/N, Kimberley doesn’t have a car. She doesn’t even have a license yet” Harry says silently as he nudges me to be quiet.

I laugh silently when I heard that. My car has 5 doors and 4 wheels and its not a crappy car so what’s the matter with that? Even if it was a crappy car, it does what it needs to do and takes me to places so what’s the issue? I unlock my car and I get in. Just when harry is about to open the door to sit in the passenger seat, Kimberly rushes to harry and pulls him to the back so that they could sit together. I know I said this already but I’m really Harry’s uber driver, aren’t I? first I deliver his food, and now this? Laughable. We get to the movies and Kimberley begs harry to buy her a ticket. Finally, we get into the theatre and I was thinking that because me and Kimberley don’t know each other AND she just hates me off rip, it would be sensible for Harry to sit in between us but nope, Kimberley decided to let a group of four find seats before her and Harry. While all of this was happening, I thought that both Harry and Kimberley were behind me and because of that, I end up sitting by myself and have 5 strangers (including Kimberley) sit between me and harry. I didn’t even get to watch the movie properly because all I could think about was the fun me and Harry could have had. I even started to question why I even took time off from work to come here.

A few hours later, the movie ended. Harry planned that we go bowling and to a pizza place, but Kimberley didn’t want to do that. She had other plans instead, so we went back home. Harry and started to feel very hungry and so we went into the fridge and took out the food that auntie made. Harry happened to have ingredients that should be eaten with the side dishes that his mother made, so he asked Kimberley if she could wash and make the rice while he fried eggs and peeled some potatoes.

-          “I’m not your maid for you to be asking me to wash the rice. Do it yourself.” she says while folding her arms with a ferocious expression spread across her face.

-          “Kim, just help me this once. I’m already peeling potatoes and will fry the rice. Please? We’re all going to eat this anyway, so you might as well help. Plus, its quicker too.” Harry conveys to Kimberley.

-          “I don’t want to eat whatever this atrocious food is. It smells horrible. Ew, is that seaweed? Yeah, I don’t like whatever this nonsense is. Who made this?” Kimberley viciously says while directly making eye contact with me.

While she is pretending to gag at the food, me and Harry make eye contact and just shake our heads. I decide to walk into the kitchen area where Harry was peeling potatoes.

-          “I’ll help since I don’t want to wait too long for the food to be ready” I say with a smile.

-          “Thanks Y/N. but you’re the guest. I wanted me and Kimberley to show off our cooking skills.” He says.

-          “No worries. I’m just really hungry” I wash my hands and g straight to where the containers full of side dishes are and open it and put it in my mouth. “mmm, Harry. Your mom did a really good job at making these. This is delicious.” I then turn around and start washing the rice.

When Kimberley heard that, her eyes widened up. She looked like she messed up. No, she did mess up. She thought that I was the one that cooked for Harry, so she thought that it was okay for her to be rude. Childish.

Harry takes his phone out and makes a phone call. He orders a Pepperoni pizza. I already knew that the pizza wasn’t for me or him, we both hate pepperoni, so I knew he ordered it for Kimberley.

-          “P, why are you ordering pizza?” Kimberley says, confused.

-          “I ordered it for you, Kim. Since you don’t like my mom’s food, or Korean food.” Harry says with his head down, peeling the potatoes.

-          “No, that’s not what I meant.” She says with an apologetic voice.

Harry slams the potato peeler on the counter and looks up at her. He’s angry.

-          “then what did you mean?” he voiced, while being exasperated.

-          “I meant to say-“

-          “Oh, you meant to say that it’s because you don’t like my mom’s cooking? Said it because you don’t like Korean food, Korean culture or me being Korean? Or did you say it because you thought that Y/N cooked it?” Harry snaps with anger in his eyes.

-          “ I didn’t-“ Kimberley says silently.

-          “The pizza is coming soon anyway, so it’s not like I can cancel it. Just eat it when it comes.”

-          “Guys, that’s enough!” I eventually shout at them. “please stop this. It’s a happy evening, let’s not ruin the mood here now. Okay?” I say while looking at them both with a serious yet gentle expression. I lied, the evening was not great, neither was the day, but I just wanted everyone to get along.

20 minutes go bye in silence. Everybody seems to be upset, but me and Harry managed to complete our cooking amidst the silence. All I could do was just stand in the kitchen with my hands on my back, because of how awkward it was, while Harry set the table.

-          “Let’s eat, Y/N”

I noticed that Harry had only set the table for two. He completely ignored Kimberley.

-          “Kimberley, come eat.” I say, as the peace maker.

-          “Nah, she’s good” Harry says, while pouring me some water.

-          Are you sure Harry? Because-“

-          “Just eat Y/N. jal meoggessseubnida” He says before he starts eating.

15 minutes later, me and harry had finally finished eating. His mom did a great job with the food and so did Harry. It brought back memories on when we used to cook together and rate each other’s cooking skills. I missed it. Harry gets up to wash the plates, but I insist to wash them instead because the air was filled with awkwardness still and I just didn’t want to be involved. Harry didn’t want me to wash the plates because he keeps considering me as a guest, but in the end, he gave in.

A few minutes later, Harry’s phone rings. It’s the pizza man telling him to get the delivery from the garage downstairs. He puts his phone on his coffee table and puts on his hoody. Just as he is turning the door handle, Kimberley runs up to him.

-          “P, where are you going?” she says worriedly.

-          “Your pizza is here” he says while half ignoring her, face on the ground. “Y/N, Ill be right back.” He says while quickly glancing at me and then closing the door behind him.

Kimberley then goes to the coffee table and grabs Harry’s phone. She seemed like she was going through his phone, while muttering things under her breath. I finish washing the dishes and notice that there’s nothing for me to dry my hands with.

-          “Hey, Kimberley, do you know where Harry keeps his hand towels? I gently ask.

-          “Shut your mouth. You’re the reason why PH-1 is angry at me. How dare you try and act high and mighty in this house. I wish you never came here. Stupid bitch.”

-          “I beg your pardon?” I say, with confusion and shock written all over my face.

-          “You heard me, bitch. I said, I wish you never came here.”

-          “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been rude to me ever since I got here. Can we just get along, for Harry’s sake?”

-          “What if I don’t want to get along with you?” she says with a mean expression on her face.

Just as Kimberley is walking up to me, assuming to slap me, the keys unlock the door from the outside and Kimberley gets shocked and makes an extremely fast U-turn into Harry’s room. Leaving me standing in the living room area alone. Like an idiot. The door opens, Harry looks around the living room and kitchen area and sees no signs of Kimberley.

-          “Hey, where is she?” Harry asks, curiously, with a pizza box in his hands.

-          “She just rushed into your room.” I say, while being tired of the day, even though its only 8pm.

-          “Oh okay, thanks Y/N. Also, I’m sorry about my behaviour earlier. I- I- I just lost it at that moment.” Harry says with disappointment spread on his face.

-          “Hey, its okay, Harry. Go in there, she’s probably waiting for you” I say with a smile on my face.

-          “Thanks, Y/N. You’re a good friend” he says. Then quickly grabs his phone from the coffee table in the living room and heads to his bedroom.

Its been about an hour since Harry and Kimberley where in his room eating pizza. I got tired so I tried going into his roommate’s bedroom, but it had happened to be locked. I message Harry to ask him how about the sleeping arrangements, but my messages seem to not go through. 2 hours go by and Harry still wont answer his messages. I even call him and its also not going through. As much as I can’t stand Kimberley, I don’t want both herself and Harry to be arguing. So, I end up going to stand Infront of the bedroom, just to hear about what’s going on and I’m hearing giggling. I hear them both giggling because Harry is tickling Kimberley. I even hear Harry ask Kimberley for a kiss, and that’s when I knew that it was time for me to leave. Harry had left my bag on the couch, so I just took it, put on my coat and shoes, then I left. I just sat in my car because I didn’t know where to go and I was just thinking about today. Out of all the days that I have spent with Harry, this one has to be number 1 on the list for the worst. In fact, we barely spent time. Only time we “spent time was while we ate together. I was angry and I was also sad. “What did I do to this girl? Why can’t Harry see that she’s a bad person? Why is Harry making love to this girl why he’s left me all alone for 2 hours, in the living room? Why won’t he reply to my messages or calls? Why is he giving me mixed signs?” That was all that was running through my mind.

I search for hotels that are nearby the highway, that I will be taking to leave this city tomorrow. I find a good hotel and drive to it. I check in and sleep. I wake up the next day and check out. Still, there’s no reply and no calls from Harry. I sigh at the sight of my phone and I just drive off. The car ride home was horrible, it started pouring rain.

Is Harry ever going to text or call me back?

Prev - Next

[ikesenhell]

1985 Camaro

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 2. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Brief conversation about prior death, otherwise safe. Thank you @missjudge-me for commissioning this piece!

---

They camped out on the back patio until the sun set. He cooked gyoza and rice balls and some pan-fried chicken, and she ordered ice cream delivery, and they nested their knees together and tucked into a pint of something labeled ‘Just Ask’ and when he asked, she wouldn’t tell him, not even when he tickled her (It wound up being a delicious caramel-Oreo flavor). She instead told him about her degree and moving out, about keeping in contact with Mitsunari as he served in Tanzania through hand-written notes on origami paper. They swapped curated Instagram snapshots and embarrassing anecdotes and reminisced. 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “About your dad.”

Masamune shrugged. There was nothing to say. It hurt and always would, but that was his private journey. “Old bastard waited too long to have kids s’what. If he’d had me at a nice, respectable age, we wouldn’t be doing this, the old coot!” He waved a dramatic fist at the sky, relishing her giggles. “You fucked up!”

Overhead, his mother’s bedroom light flicked on. 

“Shit,” he muttered. She dropped her face into her hands to stifle the raucous laughter. 

“How—” Now she was whispering. Masamune wriggled closer, their legs reflexively entwining. “How’s that going?”

“Better than it used to. We can talk without yelling. Something something time and distance. I’m planning on hunkering down here for a little bit, and once all of the stuff is settled, I’ll probably go back north. The restaurant owners offered to hold my position for me, which is really nice.” 

“Hell yeah it is. Isn’t that kind of a cut throat world? They must love you.”

“Yeah. Good openings don’t stay open long in the restaurant biz, so that’s really cool.” Absently, he ran his thumb over the whorls of the deck. “What about you? What’s next?”

“Well.” And she paused, eyes luminous. “I got offered a job interview out east. It’s a good job.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Once upon a time, when she was too nervous to really settle her heart on something she wanted, she smiled shyly and fluttered her eyes away. Some things stayed the same. His heart surged as the familiar expression played out before him. “It could be a game changer for me.”

“That the case, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I have to do some logistics, and I have to interview, right? But if I get it…” She stretched up to the sky, wriggling her fingers long at the clouds, all the prickled flesh on her arms visible in the cold moonlight. Without thinking, he shuffled closer to warm her. “I mean, I have to actually get to the interview first, so there’s the first hurdle.”

Masamune chewed his lip. “How far out is it?”

“It’s in Virginia. Complete other side of the country. The plane tickets are outrageous.”

“Damn. Guess you’re road tripping, huh?”

A gust of warm breath huffed from her lips. “I mean, I hate going on them alone, but I don’t even have a car right now. Mine got totaled; kid hit me when I was driving down here. Guess I’m taking a damn greyhound.”

His first reaction was to say ‘yikes’, and then… well. Masamune paused, soaking in the possibilities. “So you need a car is what you’re saying?”

“Mmhmm.”

Back in the day, his dad often said that the universe lined things up. Masamune didn't exactly believe in fate—he believed in making things happen—but occasionally, he saw the reasoning. 

“How do you like eighties cars?” He asked. 

She eyed him, a smile in her eyes and voice. “Like the Camaro? Sure, it’s cool. Why?”

Masamune snickered. “Everything in the Date family is cool as hell. What if I told you I could get you a car and a road trip buddy?”

The click of her brain working was almost audible. “Don’t you have to be here?”

“Gotta wait for the death certificates, which is probably a week or so. Mom wants the Camaro gone, and if she has to be around me too long, she’ll probably get sick of me real quick. I might as well make myself scarce and hang out with a dear friend. Besides—I’ll cut you a deal on selling you it. Call it a test drive.”

“A test drive? For like, a week?” But she was grinning, her shoulders angled in toward his. “Weeklong test drives aren’t kosher, Mr. Date.”

“And I’m not Jewish.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Serious as my dad’s grave.” Masamume brushed a lock of stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Want me along for the ride?”

Once upon a time, years ago, the whole gang got into an altercation with an older man in a Ford pickup. They were only teenagers sitting on a dock, but the guy pulled up and screamed at them for ‘loitering’. Mitsunari tried to intervene, and when the man acted like he might hit him, Ieyasu almost threw hands himself. They’d retreated into the woods—and when the man left, Masamune, Mitsuhide, and she went back and lit the dock on fire to spite him. Right beforehand, she’d fixed him with the most mischievous expression he’d ever seen: mouth sucked into her teeth, eyes glittering, staring out from under her lashes. 

Now, she made that same expression, and it lit a fire in him. 

“We’d have to leave like…” She mentally calculated. “In three days to make it.”

“Or we could take the long road, do a little sightseeing, and leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She echoed. Only a half second later, that smile was back. “I’m game.”

---

At six a.m. sharp, Masamune tried to wake her by flinging rocks at her window. That didn't work. At last he resorted to calling her, discovering that she stayed in a completely different room now. 

“Could’a used that knowledge,” he chuckled, hopping in place to warm his legs. The fog pressed in around him, September chill early this year. “Don’t suppose anyone is using that room?”

Her voice was thin, but warm over the phone. “No, it’s a home gym now.” 

“Great! I didn't hassle anyone else. Get out here, Kitten, we got a road to get on.”

She emerged twenty minutes later, sweatpants fresh from the dryer, wet hair in a sloppy bun and a suitcase click-clacking behind her. She never was a morning person. Masamune snickered and popped the Camaro trunk. “Wanna drive, or wanna let me do it?”

“You start. Can we get some Starbucks?”

“Ugh.” He clutched his chest, mock-wounded. “All of the coffee places in the world, and you want Starbucks. My palate is crying.”

Rolling her eyes, she slid into the passenger seat. “Drama queen.”

They got Starbucks. She tucked her feet into fuzzy socks and folded them under her knees, clutching the large mocha. Only the rush of the road beneath their tires filled the silence. Asphalt and trees emerged from the mist like a benevolent ghost, Americana obscured. They’d only just merged onto the highway when Masamune realized there wasn’t an audio jack in the car.

“Shit,” he muttered. 

She opened her eyes, head lolling on the headrest. “What?”

He flicked the dashboard. Nope, no audio jack. Not even a CD player. No; amidst all the toggles and buttons of the dash was a cassette player. “I don’t have anything to listen to. This thing won’t hook up to the phones, and I don’t have any tapes.”

“Hm.” Taking a long sip of her drink, she mused, “Maybe your dad has some in here?”

“I guess that’d make sense. Take a look around, would you?”

Sure enough, she was right. Tucked away in the glove compartment was a treasure trove: Fleetwood Mac, Eagles, AC/DC, Prince, Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen. “Damn,” she chuckled, “Your dad had good taste.”

Masamune took the copy of Rumors in his fingers, never taking his eyes off the road. The dust was thick under his thumb. “He’d play ‘Back in Black’ when he picked me up from school. It was cool as hell.” With a snap, he pried open the copy of Rumors and popped it into the player. The speakers hummed to life with strumming guitar, Fleetwood Mac echoing. “I know there’s nothing to say, someone has taken my place…” She rested her elbow on the center console, brushing his arm with her as she texted. 

“Guess what?” She murmured. “Mitsunari just got back from Tanzania.”

“Oh shit, really?” How long had it been? Masamune mentally calculated the dates. “I guess it has been two years, huh? The Peace Corps finally turned him loose?”

“Yeah. He’s apparently crashing at Ieyasu’s place—” Masamune barked a laugh, and she tittered, but continued, “—and wants to know if we’re going to head that direction.”

“He’s in Maryland, right?” Fishing out his phone, he checked it. “Yasu didn't tell me about this. Bastard. Well, we get there fast enough, then we can definitely hunker down there for a day or so and celebrate his coming back.”

Classic rock kept them company on the long drive. He didn't mind roadtrips. There was something sacred about them. Forget the American Dream; it was dead. Long live the American Road Trip, a rite of passage for the lost souls from sea to shining sea. Nothing cleared the senses like cranking up the heater on the floorboards and rolling down the window to a blast of autumn air. She let down her hair and it whipped wild in the wind. 

Thank God she was here. Masamune quietly relished her reappearance in his life. She was a gateway to an old world, one with his father alive, one where he still snuck out of the house at night and biked to the 7-Eleven for slurpees at 3a.m. They stopped at a Cracker Barrel for dinner and ordered root beer floats and roasted each other over the annoying ‘jump-the-pegs’ game perched on every table. Though you were supposed to reduce it to one peg, she couldn’t quite manage it. Somehow she kept getting two or three. 

“I got it down to one peg once,” she laughed, shoving it toward him. Masamune swirled it under his hand. 

“I can do it,” he commented. “But that’s because Mitsunari taught me the trick years ago.” He knocked the first peg out of the top of the triangle, moving it elsewhere. “That’s the one that’s gotta be empty. From there on out, there’s a set solution.”

She craned over it, investigating. “What’s the set solution?”

A long, hefty pause lingered between them as he slurped some of his float. 

“Dunno anymore.” He cracked a grin. “I forgot like, eight years ago.”

“Ass! Then you don’t know!” She swatted at his arm and grinned. “Liar!”

“Hey! I was just trying to look cool in front’a you, Kitten, I can’t look like some big dumb stud after all these years—”

“I love how you allow for the possibility that you’re dumb,” she cackled, “but not the possibility that you’re anything other than hot.”

“Am I wrong? Look at me.”

The roll of her eyes was exactly what he wanted. She shoved a biscuit at him over the table. “I think Mark Twain said something like, ‘it’s better to stop talking and appear dumb than open your mouth and remove any doubt’, Masamune.”

He clutched at his chest, but took the biscuit anyway. “You wound me, Kitten.”

As they were paying the bill, she split off and reappeared a minute later, plunking thirty cents onto the cash register and tucking a cinnamon stick into his jacket pocket. “Here.”

“My favorite!” He peeled back the plastic wrapper. “Thanks, Kitkat. You remembered.”

For the first time since they’d seen each other again, her expression evolved to one he’d almost forgotten. He’d only seen it once before. It was a moonlit night back in their senior year, after prom, when they were both lingering in the pool as everyone else passed out drunk. He’d wiped a leaf from her hair and told her she was beautiful, and she’d looked at him like that so long and hard that he wondered if he’d ever known her inner thoughts at all. 

“Of course I remembered,” she answered at last, soft and clarion clear. “I remember all kinds of things about you, Masamune.”

[scattered--pages]

For the lukanette lyric prompt." Stop there and let me correct it. I wanna live a life from a new perspective" because I love panic! at the disco and I'll make everyone else love them too. Also this is a cute lyric I love 💘

Thank you so much for this one and I’m sorry this took ages! Work and uni were hectic as hell suddenly and then I got sick so this took forever, but it’s finally here! ♡  I mainly used the way I understood the song and kind of a sudden fierce need to change the usual and the casual in a relationship with someone to something finally as serious and stable as they’re craving it to be, mixed with how a person just wants to relax and throw all their cares and everything everyone else might be thinking about them away and just have fun with the person they trust and love the most , so I hope it worked out how you expected it to in the end? ♡ It’s filled with fluff and Lukanette being happy and in love and in that recently-finally-officially-started-dating phase so I’m also hoping you’ll like it anyway, let me know how you feel about it ♡

Send me a lyrical prompt for a Lukanette fic ! ♡

______________________________________________________

I wanna live a life from a new perspective

Words: 4647 pfff this used to be a ‘drabble or a ficlet’ prompt request whoops

Rating: Teen +

AO3 link: here  ♡

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Marinette giggled slightly, leaned against Luka’s coat, her arms holding onto him firmly as the chilly winter air whipped against her face in the way that was just strong enough to be refreshing and invigorating in this sunny winter’s morning.

“Hm?”, Marinette more felt rather than heard Luka through the vibration against his back as it was unfortunately incredibly difficult to talk to your motorcycle driver both due to the wind, helmets and the fact that it’s not very good to turn your head to talk to someone while you’re rushing down the road 100 km/h. When he’s alone, Luka, even though he’s very careful about laws and regulations, did like to try and practice a stunt or two ever since he was able to pass his A1 driver’s license for a moto légère and finally legally drive a motorcycle he’s been saving for since ages now, and even though she knew he was too careful of a person to do anything stupid, Marinette still disapproved of him doing any out-of-the-ordinary stunts whatsoever on a vehicle realistically far more dangerous than a car and she was very grateful that, until he’s eighteen, he isn’t eligible to drive a bike faster stronger than this one and faster than 110 km/h.

However when she was riding with him, she actually didn’t have to worry at all. Luka was a picture perfect example of caution and precision in his driving, making it very clear that, with her there, he wasn’t risking anything even remotely bad happening, adamant on not allowing anything from her not actually getting hurt but just feeling a slight discomfort because of sudden turns or bumps, to far, far more horrible options he didn’t even want to think about. Turning his head, even ever so slightly so she could hear him through their helmets, was one of those things he would not do, which was fine on smaller routes, but excruciating today, of all days. Because they’ve been driving for almost forty minutes now and the endpoint was a surprise he was planning for their two months dating anniversary. And Marinette was a responsible, calm, understanding young woman.

Patient and immune to insanity-inducing curiosity, however - she was not.

“I gave up on trying to get clues out of you about”, she shouted through the glass of her helmet loud enough so he could hear the teasing tone in her voice before it grew a bit more warm and sensitive, “I was thinking of something different now… Almost a year and a half ago, I was riding behind you on a much slower bike and you had just told me that you were almost finished with your song for me…”, Luka couldn’t turn around but she could almost swear that he was smiling right now and, for the lack of being able to do anything else, he very gently nudged his helmet against hers in a way that made her chuckle. “You know if we were already there, you could have even kissed me right now, but instead, you must suffer, I must suffer in my ignorance of any details about today, it’s all rather tragic…”, the teasing tone was back and she could feel him sigh, followed by what she recognized was a chuckle, sending warm shivers down her spine and brightening her smile even more. Content, with her curiosity eased down for now, she leaned against him even tighter and gazed at the gorgeous French fields stretching on both sides of them, sprinkled with frost, blurring next to them as they passed them by.

Soon, they came near a more inhabited area, embraced with a perfect mixture of urban and rural charm and, upon reaching a specific cottage at the edge of what seemed to have been a wooded area, they stopped.

“We’re here?! We’re finally here?!”, the raven haired girl practically shouted as he turned the engine off, one foot on the ground, arms clapping excitedly, but her helmet still on her head.

Carefully stepping off of the motorcycle, Luka laughed softly, took his own helmet off in one fluid motion, placed it to rest against the steering wheel before helping his girlfriend take hers off and placing a kiss atop her forehead.

“Yes and no.”

The sound she produced, frowning deeper and deeper, sounded almost like a quiet growl.

He laughed again, putting away their helmets and pulling his bike a bit further aside to park it next to the cottage’s entrance. “You waited for almost an hour, now you can’t wait for fifteen more minutes?”

When he reached her, she immediately jumped into a hug, but the eyes looking up at him from the ruffles of his scarf were those of the most adorable rage he has ever seen in his life. “I have had my waiting, Couffaine, give me hints or risk dire consequences!”, she murmured against the woolen material and he cupped her face, bringing it up closer to his as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Soon, my small bundle of anger and rage, soon.”

She moved away and swung her glove at him at that with feigned anger and quickly hopped back to give him one more peck as they both laughed.

“This place here,” he nodded towards the cottage, “Is where a really good friend of my mom’s lives. He works here. And therefore we have special privileges and access that hardly anyone else has, just for us, just for today”, he took her hand and lead the way into the wooded area.

She chuckled. “So… Driving five kilometers per hour faster on the road was out of the question, but trespassing into a strange wooded area outside of Paris is perfectly fine?”

“Hey, it’s not trespassing if it’s…”, he looked aside, puzzled, “Authority approved type of trespassing?”

Marinette went from holding his hand to hooking her arm around it and hugging herself against his side, “You know, everyone keeps thinking you’re this bad boy with a guitar, or just a heartthrob badass rocker on the rise, but in fact, you’re just a teddy bear.”

He laughed pressed his lips against the top of her head, “Yeah, but I’m your teddy bear.”

She smiled, looking up at him with loving eyes, “Yes you are.” And she wouldn’t change it for the world. Her perfect mix of prince charming and a dashing rogue, of sunshine and moonlight, the perfect combination of absolute kindness and softness with a perfectly fitting edge of just enough of exhilaration and wildness. And to think that, a year and a half, after first hearing the first version of ‘her song’, in front of her parents’ bakery, she was still partially capable on letting him slip away for Adrien. Now she wouldn’t let him slip away even if the entire universe offered itself up to her.

“But wait, technically… We are trespassing?”

“Today, you are not to worry about secondary things like that.”

“Luka!”, she nudged his ribs with a genuinely concerned expression now that she realized he really wasn’t joking.

He chuckled again, “It’s gonna be fine… We’re not going to get into trouble and it’s worth it, trust me!”

“Hmm…”, Marinette mused, excited, but quite puzzled and just a bit nervous. In a way, it was a good feeling, to break away from doing everything by the line for a change, and she knew she was not only safe with Luka, but also that he, as mentioned, never would do anything dangerous or fully illegal with her, not to mention that she fully and unconditionally trusted him. So she decided to be brave.

And she didn’t have to stay in her mildly perturbed state for too long as, very soon, they reached the end of the small wooded area.

Marinette clutched at his hand tightly, standing there fully astound.

“Welcome to…”

“Versailles…”

Luka chuckled slightly, “With it’s premises entered by an ever so slightly backdoor way.”

She turned to him, still in a state of absolutely blissful, overjoyed shock, “How did you know that I…”

At her sudden lack of words, he smiled and pulled her into a gentle hug. “Juleka told me you’ve never been here yet”, he shrugged pulling away gently, “And to have grown up in Paris and never been to Versailles is a crime that I had to rectify”, he joked, and she felt an urge of happiness to sudden, she could have cried. Hopping in one place twice, she clapped her hands and turned to the gorgeous, stunning vast fields of flawless shrubbery, grass and blue winter skies, stretching in front of them all the way to the magnificent palace at the garden’s end.

“Screw trespassing…!”, a sudden bout of courage grabbed onto her in her euphoria, “We’re getting to that castle!”

Her hand clasped tightly onto his and they shared a grinning, determined look of agreement, as though they somehow read other’s minds in that very moment, before they began sprinting through the perfect trails amidst the trees, bushes and winding pathways, all preserved perfectly under a thin layer of eyes, making the whole place seem even more like a location springing to life right out of a fairytale.

Peering behind one of the trees, Marinette stuck her tongue out playfully and smirked at Luka, laughing running towards her, “Catch me if you can, Couffaine!”

 With a chuckle, he smirked back in a fiendish way that was just charming enough to make Marinette feel an array of fireworks of tingles all over through her body. “Challenge accepted, Dupain-Cheng”, he replied completely confident, causing her to giggle out a tiny squeal of faux panic before she set of to find cover behind the next rich green topiary, luscious even in a winter as cold as this one, as was, somehow, the entire garden.

 Reaching the stunning Colonnade grove, Marinette stopped next to one of the beautiful columns, catching her breath quietly as she glided her palm across the smooth marble, admiring the texture of the perfect icy cold surface. Each column the a stunning fluid shade of red or blue, one following the other in a perfect circle with the Abduction of Proserpina by Pluto statue placed right in the middle - a perfectly white vision in marble. She felt like she was in a fairytale. How on Earth did she never come here before…

 Suddenly, she felt a hand graze her other palm and in a second, in unique kind of instinct where her hand recognized the other one before her mind did, she instantly intertwined their fingers, only to be spun around and swiftly wrapped into a familiar warm embrace.

 "Got you now, my princess", he whispered before placing a soft peck against her lips, the sparks within her vivid once more, spreading from her heart to every corner of her body, causing an array of sensations from the soothingly knotted yearning at the pit of her stomach, to the utmost tender tingles she felt all the way to the tips of her fingers, like pure happiness sparkling through her, so strong and genuine that it couldn’t be contained.

 She giggled and locked her lips with him before pulling away only so they could catch their breaths, rosy-cheeked and chuckling blissfully, their foreheads and noses still pressed together.

 “Come on my brave trespassing knight”, she stepped away, taking his hand with a grin, “Show me more of your kingdom before the royal guards catch us and give your mom and my parents a heart-attack when they call to tell them their kids have been arrested in a castle outside of Paris”

 “I honourably promise that I shall let no guard come anywhere near you, my princess! I swear by my life that I will protect you and our parents’ health for I have fallen for you far too much to jeopardize either of those two”, he grinned and made a surprisingly authentic and gallant knightly bow before her, causing her to break into a fit of blushing giggles again for a moment.

 "I bet you say that to all the girls you take on romantic, secret walks around the Versailles gardens in winter", she pouted teasingly.

 "No", he shook his head with a smile, “I only say it in hopes of making this one girl in front of me as absolutely and entirely smitten with me as I am with hers.”

 "And is it working?“, she interlocked their fingers.

 "You tell me, my fair maiden.”

 Her shoulders shrugged as they walked, a jokingly disappointed look on her face, “I don’t know… I mean a true princess is never fully charmed until she’s had her first romantic waltz with her dashing suitor.”

 Still grinning, he quirked an eyebrow, “What happened to the incredibly-scared-of-dancing-especially-if-it’s-a-real-ballroom-dance-Marinette?”

 “You happened, you goof!”, she punched him jokingly and he laughed. “And, that Marinette has never been in the middle of the most beautiful winter outdoor ballroom in the vicinity of one of France’s most stunning castles”, her hand let go of his only to tip-toe a few steps away, spreading her arms and spinning around as she took in the gorgeous view of the Roccocco Grove. The massive, gorgeous stones adorned with decorations and fountains all around them and, even though the fountains didn’t work at the moment, even though the breath-taking arena-like structure lacked the marble flooring, colors, vast audiences and lights that it featured when it was originally built centuries ago, the whole vision of the entire outdoor ballroom structure, covered by thin translucent snow, sparkling in the light winter sun as if it was thousands of little diamonds spilled and strewn across the cold stone, was as if it somehow appeared all around them straight out of a dream. A dream from which Marinette never wanted to wake up.

 Regarding the waltz and dancing in general, partially, she was only joking and, partially, she still was a bit terrified to embarrass herself in front of him and to therefore singlehandedly somehow ruin a moment like these, so she wasn’t truly expecting it when he closed the distance between them again, took another graceful small bow that he probably thought was silly but to her it was so charmingly dashing and perfect that, with his smile and the absolute magic radiating from this particular garden grove, it honestly caused her to instantly feel irrevocably and entirely smitten and taken aback by the now increasing levels of dream-likeness of this entire situation.

 “Well than…”, he offered her his hand, “May I be so bold as to ask you for a dance, princess?”

And, also somehow without expecting her own courage, but also fully well knowing that there was no way she was capable of uttering anything else right now, she took his hand and with a shy, adoring smile replied, “You may.”

 She always forgot how good of a dancer Luka actually was. Coming from a musical family and loving music so much, one would assume that, other than having a huge passion for guitar and, so far secretly, singing, he would also enjoy dancing in more casual, modern music-related situations. So she was incredibly surprised to have learned that he actually could, and very well at that, waltz! Of course, she knew the basic steps, for which she was insanely grateful currently because it was the only thing allowing her to be able to follow his lead, but Luka was gathering more and more points for secretly being a prince behind that façade of just a calm, introverted, punk-rock boy. In fact, it reminded her of that day more than a year ago at the ice rink where she was too busy and blind chasing after Adrien to fully appreciate the down-right movie-like way he spun her around, lifted her and held her in his arms on that rink before Philippe was akumatized.

 This time, on the other hand, she was entirely without any other care, focus, or distraction in her mind, now for her the only thing that existed was him and how light and free and so incredibly loved and beautiful she felt in his hands. The ballroom around them might as well have had actual candles, diamonds, fountains and decorations behind them, there might as well have been real music behind them and even if she stumbled in her steps a few times, even if she faltered a bit occasionally, he was there to help her, to catch her, and she never stopped being amazed at how easy it was to just laugh in each other’s arms, ignore life for a moment and just… be, when she was with him.

 “Hold on to my shoulders with both of your hands now”, he said suddenly, smiling, and she obeyed, although a tad confused, before she found herself lifted up by her waist slightly mid-spin and swiftly brought back down into his embrace, like they were in scene from Beauty and the Beast.

 She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug as she laughed in that breathless, entirely interwoven with joy way in which only people in love can laugh when they’re completely overcome with how they feel when they’re with the person the care most for.

 “If this isn’t reality, never wake me up, please…”, she kept chuckling, “How are you even real, Luka, how did I ever even deserve someone like you?”

 She giggled a bit more, but quickly turned dead silent and pulled away as she felt Luka’s smile against her neck fade away slowly, his hands around her losing the strength of their grip. The sudden cold change of attitude was so strong it Marinette snap out of their dreamlike state within a second, replacing it with a string of panic and worry.

 "Luka?”, her tone was quiet but nervous, “What’s wrong?”

 "Marinette… I need to tell you something… I need you to know, really know something…“

 He stepped back a bit, carefully plucking her hands from his neck and placing one of them in both of his own.

 The dark haired girl turned an alarming shade of pale that matched the lithe frost covering the surfaces around the grove. "What… is it?”, her voice was cautious and silent, but upsetting her was the last thing Luka wanted to do right now, so he tried to muster up a small sad smile, gently squeezing her hands in his own.

„You’ve been kind of stressed lately and it’s only been so briefly since we’ve been… an actual couple…”, a pause and a shy smile graced his features that Marinette could only describe as breathtakingly adorable, but after that, heartbreakingly fast, his smile faded. Slowly, she studied his eyes with hers, puzzled and worried, as he ran the fingers of his free hand down his scalp through his teal locks before stopping to rub at his neck with a brief sigh, a habit of nervousness and a sign of hesitation, she knew how to recognize these small signs when they painted themselves across his features when he tried his best to hide them and when everyone else thought they were just random quirks. But she knew. “And suddenly“, he continued, torn, silent, suddenly avoiding her gaze, „I feel like I haven’t been as good anymore at keeping you happy or relaxed, and I think it’s because I know everyone’s still saying that…”, his cheeks reddened, but his face somehow grew even more somber. He sighed once more, “Literally, someone from our group said to me a few days ago that they all know I’m just that boy who’s going to be someone to ‘keep you busy’ while you’re getting over Adrien, someone to check all your ‘firsts’ with, until you gather some confidence from this before you finally get together with Adrien for the long term…”

“Luka… Who said that, was Chlo-…”, Marinette tried to stop him, reaching out to place a hand against his cheek, but he caught it and cradled it again in his own palms instead, this time both of his hands held hers in a way in which a person craddles a final drop of water that’s helping them cling to their very life amidst a desert. Lovingly, tenderly, and almost desperately in the way they shook ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry, please, I-I just need to say this, cause if I don’t, it’ll take me getting akumatized again and fearing that I’ve hurt you or lost you to say anything, and than I’ll stay silent again for six months until I muster up the courage to try to again attempt saying something that’s been hurting me bit by bit on the inside, until it’s almost too late to say anything, like the last time, cause…”, he gave her that heartbreaking small but growingly sad smile again, “I could write and play a thousand of songs, melodies and tunes to show you how I’m feeling, but sometimes, as much as I’m… very clearly horrible with words, sometimes they need to be said and something nothing else is enough when things like this bubble up unspoken… I’ve seen it with my parents, with other people, and I swear to always be completely honest with you, even with things that are scaring me.”

Marinette had to fight an urge to touch his cheeks and somehow smooth the sudden immensely strong fear and lack of his typical mellow optimism off of his face, but she suppressed it, for now, and simply carefully nodded, urging him to continue.

“The worst is, the person that said this… They, I’m pretty sure, didn’t mean it as a necesarrily bad thing, they just said it kind of as a casual humorous observation cause they, somehow, thought I was okay with it, that I was the kind of chill, fairweather guy that am in on that… Of course, people like Juleka knows I’m not, maybe Rose and Ivan know, people really close to me that spend almost every day with me…but the truth is…”, he frowned for a moment, shaking his head before his eyes met hers again with an earnestness so fierce and pure she could swear she could feel it, “I’m not. I’m not okay with it.”

His fingers caressed her knuckled with the kind of gentleness she’s never felt before. It didn’t matter it was icy cold outside, it made her very core light up with a summer-like warmth and she had to once again fight the urge to grab his face, scream if needed that 'I know you’re not like that, I know!’, just to extinguish this ridiculous notion that she shares this opinion of him with this insanely cruel person, but before she got the chance to, he hesitantly parted his lips to speak again. “I know I’ve told you this before, but to me, this is more than just having another crush or a girlfriend to date for a few weeks or  months cause we’re teenagers, and you’re still getting over Adrien, and I’m the easy-going yet rebellious punk rocker who’s here as your rebound and that’s how relationships go in our age …”, he shyly rolled his eyes, angry at the very fact that things like this are expected from people their age because eighteen and sixteen isn’t old enough to know love, when he knew the love he felt well enough to propose to this girl right here and now and not regret it until they’re old and grey and shrivelled up, and he saw the kind of honest, strong love in other people their age all around them, in Alya and Nino and Rose and Juleka and Ivan and Mylene and shattered his heart that he finally found a girl that made him feel like he was constantly dreaming, even when loving her made him hurt, even when being by her side meant that he wasn’t the one she would prefer there, even back when standing by her made him feel both more happy and broken than he’s been in a long time, perhaps ever, he knew how terrifyingly, beautifully, most assuredly different and strong this was. To the point Juleka even mocked and teased him for a while until she realized that this was actually real and very much happening to her introverted, strong but bad with emotions big brother that hardly ever even having had a proper crush or two before.

 “What I mean is… What I want to make sure you know about and what I say to anyone thinking or saying stuff like that, because I know more of them have thought something like that as well but were perhaps too polite to voice it and what I mean to say to those people and that outlook on love and on us is…”, he held her hands just a bit tighter and took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers with an unmistakable sense of fear for her reaction, but his words were determined, “…to hell with that, and to hell with what we have being anything close to just that. You’re the first thing in my life that anchored me this strongly or made me feel this way this hard and now that you’re finally with me and are perhaps feeling at least an inkling of what I am, after everything, I am not letting this be a typical cliché teenage passing thing, no matter who thinks that it is and it’s so, so important for me that you know that too…”

 His expression, locked with hers, soon grew fully terrified when she didn’t immediately respond, but in reality, Marinette was only out of words for an entirely different set of reasons than the darkest case scenario that he was imagining.

 She now firmly placed her second palm onto his hands and squeezed them, smiling and shaking her head in disbelief of what this amazing, mature, selfless boy was somehow made to believe she thought of him. “Luka, I never thought you were like that in the first place and you have nothing to prove to me… The fact is, you are the most kindhearted, empathetic, caring boy I know and I definitely agree with saying ‘to hell’ with what anyone thinks of us…”. She glanced aside with a small rueful sigh, “I know that after more than a year of my very obvious and embarrassing pining for Adrien… it may seem like I need more convincing than necessary but, my truth and my opinion is… You’re not Adrien… And it makes me so happy that you’re not and that’s why I love you. Because just meeting you slowly made me finally realize that, all this time, I needed and felt best and truly loved not Adrien, but you, you silly thing! All of what you just said,“ she chuckled happily, „I’ve known it already. And I am very happy to be here to stay for as long as you’ll have me…“, giggling quietly, she hunched her head down a bit, flush rosyness coloring her cheeks swiftly though, through a set of thick black eyelashes.

And just like that, his lips pulled into that gorgeous, bright grin that accentuated his cheekbones in a way she loved so much and lit up his eyes so that their teal to aquamarine shades almost seemed to have all grown a hue brighter.

„For as long as I’ll have you?“

Suddenly, his arms were wrapped around her as he spun her around, causing her to instantly squee and laugh loudly as she held herself tightly against his chest.

When he put her down again, he brushed a stray lock of dark hair from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead, then against her lips. “How does forever sound?“

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 1 of Possible-y Utah

From the Desk of Sharper

"Possible-y Utah"

So, Kim and Ron, now finally together after the events of So the Drama, are going on their very first vacation with the rest of the Possible family (and as BF and GF). And nothing can go wrong...right? Right?

This fic (obviously) takes place between Seasons 3 and 4.

The fanfic is rated T for some language, some scenes of reckless driving, a couple of drug/alcohol references, some crude/suggestive humor (including brief male nudity for comedic use), and some comic action violence. And as is the case with Stoppable Family Vacation , these driving stunts that James will engage in this story should NOT be attempted in real life, whatsoever.

Kim Possible, characters and settings, are created by Schooley and McCorkle and (c) by Disney. Any OC I create is my own.

Chapter 1 - Aftermath

(May 6, 2006, Middleton High Gym)

Kim was resting comfortably in Ron's arms while her high-heels clicked on the gym's hardwood pine floors amidst the burnt bottom of her prom dress. The two of them had foiled what was probably Drakken's magnum-opus scheme that he ever devised: the Lil' Diablos. He and Shego were extremely close to success, not only because of the successful molding of Nakasumi's designs and the technology from the Hephaestus project, but also because of the improved Synthodrone designs, especially on one Synthodrone 901, codenamed "Eric" , to gain the attention of Kim and keep her distracted for the Prom while Drakken took over as the Bueno Nacho head honcho , no thanks to the mass amount of wealth he acquired from his mom's extremely successful cooking empire. And Kim, stung by the betrayal of Eric, nearly gave up.

Yet, it was the confession of love from Ron when they were tied up that gave Kim the strength to fight back and shut down Drakken's plan once and for all.

And now, here they were, dancing the night away with the wonderful music. There were still around 100 students in the gym, down much from the crowd of 350 just a few hours ago.

"KP, I am never going to let you go..." Ron said with a smile, slow-dancing with his now-BFGF.

"And same here as well, Ron!" Kim replied, holding him tight.

"That first kiss we shared was so wonderful!" she added.

"There's many more where that came from!" Ron replied. "This is the bon-diggiest night of all nights!"

"Couldn't have said it any better!" Kim said. "Now why don't we take a seat?"

"Agreeing with ya, KP!" Ron replied. The now Team Possible couple sat down at one of the tables. Monique and Jessica was there along with her prom date, Steve Foley.

"Hey, guys!" Kim said with a grin and a wave.

The three friends waved back.

"Hey, baby girl! You and Ron totally brought down the house!" Monique exclaimed.

"Thanks, Monique!" Kim giggled, "You should've seen the look on Bonnie's face!"

Monique laughed, "Yeah, she was in jellin' world alright!"

"We've been waiting for you two to get together!" Jess agreed.

"Really?!" Kim wondered, surprise at what one of her MHS cheer-mates said.

"You really think that?" Ron questioned as well.

"Of course!" Monique replied. "It's the subtle things that the two of you did. Clinging to each other."

"Little favors in the locker..." Steve added.

"And the love note you sent earlier this year in homeroom prior to the Middleton Days festival!" Jess said.

"To be fair, that was under the Moodulator incident!" Ron replied.

Kim looked at him oddly.

"But I did manage to save it!" Ron added, "It's still in my nightstand!"

"Nice save, Ron!" Kim smirked.

Bonnie, still stung from the cheering the other students gave to Kim and Ron a mere hour ago, sat down at the table with Brick right next to Kim and Ron.

"You two disgust me..." she huffed dismissively.

"Hey, Kim and Ron! Nice moves back there!" Brick complemented the new couple, though he said this not more than four feet from his girlfriend.

"Oh, shut up, Brick!" Bonnie snapped, "I do not need your complements to the loser couple!"

Barkin then came onto the platform where the DJ was at. The DJ immediately stopped the music, indicating he had something important to say.

"OK, everyone. I hope at least some students remained here at the gym for the crowning of the Junior Prom King and Queen and her Prom Court." Barkin explained at the mic. "The person who was supposed to announce the winners gave out her voice during a 17-hour production of all four of Wagner's Ring cycle operas, so I will have the dubious honor of doing that."

Rob Reeger then began to make faces and an imitation of Barkin's voice, beginning with "OK people..."

"Reeger..." Barkin sighed, "...can you cut it out?"

Rob stopped what he was doing.

"Thank you, class clown." Barkin said, wishing that this would bring order.

"But I thought I was the class clown!" Ron exclaimed.

"No, you are Mr. Accident-Prone Boy who nearly destroyed our beloved Golden Bone, thank you very much." Bonnie retorted.

Barkin simply yelled. "Would you people BE QUIET?!"

This cause a loud feedback that irritated everyone's ears. And the chatter became silent.

"Now that I have everyone's undivided attention, it is time to honor Middleton High's Junior Prom court." the oft-subbed teacher explained, "As per the tradition of our school, students chose 5 boys and 5 girls to be a part of the Prom Court!"

He then took out a 4x6 card containing the student's names.

"The five boys selected to Prom court 2006 are as follows: Steve Foley, Jason Morgan, Tiny Masterson, "Big" Mike Collins, and Jamarcus Hall."

All five students stood up and walked onto the platform. Jess, obviously cheered for Steve while Tara cheered on for Jason.

"And now, the five girls chosen for Prom court are as follows: Crystal Sanders, Jessica Appleton, Monique Smith, Tara Queen and Hope Pendleton.

Kim cheered on for her girls as they all came onto the stage and accepted their sashes and bouqets of roses.

"It is now time to announce the Junior Prom King and Queen!"

Bonnie scoffed at Kim while hugging Brick, "It's all a formality, Possible! Me and Brick are going to be crowned and you are supposed to obey us!"

"Bonnie..." Kim uttered, "...it's not supposed to hold any importance at all."

"Last time I checked, your name was on that ballot." Bonnie countered. "Along with Marcella's name...which escapes me."

"I don't actually remember what her last name was." Brick added.

"Even if I do lose, it's so going to be no big!" Kim said with a slight chuckle, "Not only did I save the world, I have managed to gain a handsome...and dorky...BF!"

"Ooooh! I like the sound of that, KP!" Ron replied.

"I don't give a rat's rear end about what that stupid blue troll was planning. And I don't give a rat's rear end about you making mushy sounds with Stupidable" Bonnie sneered.

Kim shot her a look of annoyance for Bonnie calling Ron that.

"You're going to bow before me when I get that crown!" the brunette demanded.

"I am NOT going to bend the knee to you, Rockwaller!" Kim shouted.

But Bonnie ignored her and replied, "Now would you just shut your mouth? Barkin's about to announce the winners!"

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

So, I just read it on Twitter and had to share it with you. “Climate change has fucked up seasons, does this mean Hades and Persephone’s deal has changed? Is she getting her cheeks smashed for longer now? Is Hades okay with random dick appointments rescheduling? Is Demeter going crazy? Is she going stupid?”

“Your mom must be going fucking nuts, huh?”

It’s 3:32 AM in the morning, the halls of the palace are fast asleep, and the only sound is the soft, muffled crackling of the eternal fires the burn just outside the large, arched window of their bedroom.

For millennia, Hades never really payed much mind to what humans were doing to the world. The wars, the bloodshed, the atrocities— it was always a part of mankind, for as long as he could remember. He’s aware that his mindset is probably do to the fact that he grew up during a time when all of these aspects were very common, so he was numb to them, to an extent.

But in all of his years of life, Harry had never witnessed humans actually be able to push the boundaries of their powers to the point where it was impacting the actual planet. 

Bombs are the obvious factor, as well as mass deforestation, oil wells, mines, and so much more. However, amidst all of these impacts humans lay upon the world, none of them had ever had a direct influence on Harry’s life. He’s sequestered so far down in the depths of the earth that humans can’t possibly reach him here without kicking it first.

That was until global warming became an issue.

Well, an issue for those who live above ground. For him, it was actually working out quite to his advantage.

He’s knows it’s a horrible thing to say but he’s already in Hell so he doesn’t really have much to lose. Actually, he has so much more to gain.

Since global warming is a direct line to climate change, all of the seasons have been thrown out of their natural order. Fall and Winter used to be strictly six months, which is when Persephone would be down in the Underworld with him. As soon as the first of the seventh month hit, it was time for her to go back to Olympus with her mother for their given time of Spring and Summer.

The end of the six month period was usually when the weather would start to warm up on the surface, resulting in Persephone having to go and take the reigns of her godly duty with Demeter. But increasing climate change has been tinkering with the technicalities for the last few years and most of the time, it’s in Hades’ favor.

It’s been two weeks into the seventh month, and with temperatures still near freezing in some areas of the world, Y/N has managed to use this as an excuse to extend her stay with Harry. And since the weather is too risky for crops to start growing, Demeter’s hands are tied in her own grape veins, much to Hades’ glee.

This brings them to where they are now, snuggling cozily under the charcoal black duvet of their humongous bed, legs intertwined as his wife cradles her head against his bare chest, the tips of his fingers tracing both of his names down the expanse of her spine.

The last two weeks had been a hell of a ride, literally and metaphorically.

It reminds Harry of how when they had first gotten married, they had been going at it like rabbits for the weeks that followed, as if the world could end any minute.

But now, it was The Weather Channel that could potentially throw a gear in their little extravaganza. They had been safe thus far into the month, so every day was a triumph, and triumphs obviously have to be celebrated.

The amount of fucking got so embarrassingly frequent, in some embarrassingly unequip places, to the point where one of the cleaning servants had walked in on them in a storage closet when Harry was supposedly at an emergency meeting on Olympus.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been more mortified then when the servant handed him a freshly cleaned towel and said, “Here, you’ll need this for when you’re finished.” before closing the door behind her.

Harry looks down at Y/N, not being able to keep a gentle smile from tickling his lips as she presses her ear over his heart, comforted by the mellow thumping that had been harsh and fast-paced a few minutes prior. He ducks down and presses a caring kiss between her sweaty brows, her skin still hot and clammy from the exertion he’d just put her through.

His voice comes out as a raspy laugh and she can feel the edges of his mouth drawing up into a sly simper against her forehead.

“She must fucking hate me right now more than ever, too.”

Y/N pinches at his tummy in a cautionary manner, but she can’t fight the amused scuff that escapes her. “It’s not like you’re responsible for the weather, though.”

Hades shrugs one shoulder, his dark emerald eyes glistening in the buttery light of the fires below that stream in through the glass window. His tone is cocky and self-indulgent.

“But I am responsible for this.” He streams his fingertips down the dip of her back and onto her ass, moving the sheets down a tad to reveal a darkened outline of his handprint. “And that’s enough to cause her to plunge the world into another Ice Age.”

Persephone fully laughs now, her eyes squeezing shut as her whole face lights up like the Northern Lights and Harry can’t resist scattering a dozen kisses all over her cheeks and nose. She just looks so fucking cute when she smiles like that.

Hades cups the side of her jaw with his fingers, thumbing over the faint dimple on her chin as he rubs his nose over the tip of her’s. Even though his plump, wine-tinted lips carry a tender, sleepy grin, she can hear the sadness weighing his words. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Persephone sighs deeply, reaching up to push her husband’s damp, chestnut curls away from his forehead, combing them back from his softening eyes as he swallows heavily, thick eyebrows furrowing as he tries to keep his emotions from registering on his face. “I don’t want to either, but I have to eventually.”

Harry nods his head emptily, the tip of his cold nose running up and down the suppleness of her cheek. “I just don’t want this to end.”

Y/N snorts lightly, trying to lift the mood of the conversation. “Yeah, I get that. Then you won’t have anyone to ride you in the bathing pool.”

She thanks the gods that it works, heart fluttering in her chest as Harry breaks out into a fit of that high-pitched laughter he does when he can’t control himself. His entire face changes for a moment, his nose crinkling upwards as the corners of his eyes wrinkle in delight.

“Am I wrong?!” She teases, poking him in the stomach and sides until his hands are fumbling for her own, his giggling intensifying when she buries her head into his neck and starts blowing raspberries against his skin.

“Okay, okay!” Harry can barely breathe, his ribs aching but in the best way and he can’t seem to stop beaming. “You’re kinda right.”

Y/N halts her attack, mouth dropping open in fake appalled shock, eyebrows flying upwards outrage. “Are you serious?!”

She tries to yank her wrists free from her husband’s large hands, but his fingers only tighten to keep her from going at him again. Persephone lays there writhing from side to side, yelling out all types of vulgar language that is gradually dissolving into bundles of banter and giggles as Harry makes kissy-faces, warning her to calm down before he “gives her a taste of her own ambrosia.”

Y/N, in the spur of the moment, mounts herself on top of Harry in a whirlwind of messy sheets, straddling his hips with her thighs and trying to tug herself free that way, but his hold is beyond godly. She releases an exasperated groan, slamming their conjoined hands down against his stomach, satisfied at the pained grunt he chokes out. “You deserve it, you prick.”

They are both still grinning from ear to ear, Y/N’s hair a tangled mess of flyaways as she slumps down in defeat against Hades’ lap, pouting and fuming jokingly.

When Harry sees his wife has come down from her bloodthirsty rampage, he slowly unclamps his fingers from her wrists, shrugging his eyebrows warningly. “I’ll pin you, babe. Behave.”

Persephone raises her own eyebrows challengingly. “Oh, yeah?”

Before Hades can react, she has his wrists crossed above his head, pressed into the mound of elegant feathered pillows below him. “How’s that, then? Turned the tables.”

Harry cocks his head to the side with an arrogant air as his bare, tattooed chest heaves alluringly. He runs his bottom lip under his top teeth as the corners turn up into a presumptuously attractive smirk, voice holding faux surrender. “You’re absolutely right, darling. I completely, totally lost. I have you sitting in my lap, naked, with a perfect view of your tits, which is the most dreadful defeat I can possibly imagine.You won.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow. It’s all a game— just for shits and giggles— but the way he’s eyeing her with that amused, conceited smirk makes her want to slap him across the face.

“You’re an asshole.” She huffs, nails digging into his wrists.

A holographic green glint flashes across the whites of Harry’s eyes, irises glowing with a watery jade hue as he mopes at her tauntingly. “Oh, but I thought I was a ‘prick?’”

Now he’s really asking for it. Practically begging for her to do something to make him take it all back. As if reading her mind, Hades flicks up a single eyebrow, and she can read his expression clear as crystal.

What are you gonna do about it?

Y/N can feel her nostrils flaring ever so slightly at the dare, and what drives it forward it that even though she is the one who is supposed to have Harry pinned down at her disposable, it looks more like he has his hands crossed behind his head, waiting for her to bend to his will.

It’s infuriatingly hot.

Something glints out of the corner of Persephone’s eye, her gaze rising until it lands on Hades’ wedding ring as it hugs his finger, the giant emerald jewel glittering in the muted amber lighting. He follows her locked stare, jaw flexing as he tilts his head back against the mattress, trying to find the target of her distraction.

His ring.

He very seldom takes it off, to the point where he has a tan line around the area. It’s his most prized possession, accompanied by his crown, his emblem, and Cerberus.

Y/N quickly wraps her fingers around it, pulling it off swiftly and holding it up above his head, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. “Good luck getting it back.”

Her plan backfires almost immediately.

She tries to swing herself off her husband to get the prize as far away from him as possible, but she had forgotten that their bodies had been tangled together in the sheets. Instead of making a speedy escape, she topples off his sideways, landing face-first into the fluffy duvet.

Harry’s muddled snickering mocks her.

The next thing she knows, Persephone is being scooped up in a pair of strong, lean arms, her back hitting the pillowy mattress and bouncing lightly. Harry’s body collapses over her’s, his hips snug between her thighs as his palms press down against the bed on either side of her head.

He moves strands of her hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ears as his face hovers over her, grin plastered all over it. “That was cute, pet. Ten-out-of-ten for effort. Execution? I’ll give you a two-out-of-ten, only because I love you so much.”

Harry shifts into his forearms, holding his left hand up and wiggling his ring finger. “Now give it back.”

“No.”

He rolls his eyes in mild irritation. “Give it back before you drop it behind the bed, you dolt.”

Y/N rattles her head in defiance, fist tightening around the obsidian ring as it remains pressed against her husband’s chest.

Harry gives her a ominous look, tilting his head to the side with a cautionary tone. “Give me my ring back before I give the other side of your bum a matching handprint.”

Instead of just giving in and returning the jewelry, Y/N decides to take the more complicated (and irrationally ridiculous) route. She pops it into her mouth.

Harry is so surprised he doesn’t blink for a few seconds. Then, he breaks out into awed laughter.

“You’re such a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? S’fucking impressive.” He shakes his head in disbelief, ghosting his index finger along her Cupid’s Bow, licking at the corner of his mouth coyly when he feels her lips twitching beneath his touch. “Now be a good girl and spit it out.”

Her words are muffled over the object. “Make me.”

A dark aura falls over Hades’ face, his hand coasting down from playing with her lips to wrapping delicately around her throat in foreshadowing. His voice is low and assertive. “You know I fucking will.”

“That’s what I’m betting on.”

Harry’s mouth curls into an evilly delighted simper. “Alright. You asked for it.”

Hades grabs one of Persephone’s knees, spreading her legs open roughly and using his own knees to keep her parted wide open. The ring finger of the hand around her throat presses against the center of her lips, the other hand wandering down and cupping her bare crotch without any warning. The two middle fingers of his right hand press deeper against her slick folds until he can feel the bud of her clit, and that’s when he starts wiggling the digits back and forth.

It starts off softly, but is quickly molding into a faster, messier, more eager pace. He usually eases her into sex because he knows how sensitive she can be down there to the point where she’ll cum without much work, but since they’re pitted against each other rather than together, dirty war strategies are expected.

Y/N’s legs act on instinct, trying to clasp shut as she feels her entire body coursing with electric shocks of sudden euphoria. However, the knees he has against her’s keeps her open, allowing him to do whatever he deems fit.

Persephone’s hands desperately grab at her husband’s, trying to get him to stop; she’d clearly overestimated her confidence level. She’d assumed he would just bury himself inside her, a strategy she knows how to fight with the right amount of willpower. But her clit is way more sensitive than anything else on her body and he’d gone in without remorse.

“T-That’s not fair! H-Harry, you can’t just— fuck, oh my God!” Her back arches up from the bed, thighs quivering as she feels deep pulses of pleasure pounding at the pit of her stomach.

Harry’s lips are flushed against her throat, placing hot, sloppy pecks across her juglar as he feels her getting wetter and wetter over his fingers. “I fucking warned you, sweetheart. I’m gonna make you cum like this, without me inside you. It’s what you deserve for being such a brat.”

“P-Please—!”

“Ring.” He growls demandingly, his second middle finger pressing harder against the center of her colored lips, the rest of his digits gripping her jaw firmly. “Now.”

It’s as if Y/N’s brain is no longer in control of her actions, her body acting on sheer adrenaline. Her mouth drops open on command, and she can feel Harry’s triumphant grin stinging across her jaw.

“That’s what I thought.”

The digit dips in and the ring slips past a third of it before Harry pulls it out. He makes eye contact with his wife, ducking down to whisper his next words across the shell of her ear.

“You’re gonna be the one to put the ring back on me.”

With everything that is happening, Persephone has no time to unravel the riddle behind Hades’ words. One of her trembling hands reaches up for his hand, trying to obey him in her drunken state of shock.

But he stops her with a light shake of his head, wet curls bouncing. “Not like that, baby.”

Harry then shifts his body over smoothly, the hand that was between her thighs slamming down beside her head to hold himself up as the hand with the ring takes its place.

In one quick, expert move, he plunges his two middle fingers inside Y/N, and the experience is almost out-of-body.

She can feel the abrupt chill of the metal ring making contact with the skin around her entrance, and then he’s slipping his digits further inside her, the ring pushing against her tight hole and running down his finger until it is snug in its rightful place. Until Harry is knuckles deep and she feels like she’s going to pass out as her senses go into overdrive.

Y/N is bucking and writhing against Hades’ hand, whimpering and whining and pleading with him to stop toying with her. To just fuck her already.

“Oh, I will, love. I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers first. Play with that spot inside you that I know drives you fucking wild. And then, I’m gonna proper raw you until you can’t even stand.”

Harry’s fingers slip out completely, only to pound back inside her harder this time, her whole body jolting upwards against the bed sheets as her throat aches with a broken yelp.

“I’m gonna make you apologize for calling me a prick—” his fingers draw out and slam back in and she’s so wet he can fucking hear it— “and an asshole—’ the same motion again, but this time she feels his teeth staining her neck and jaw with bruises— “and I’m gonna make you scream so loud, they’ll hear you all the way up in Olympus.”

And with the way he rams his digits back inside her, she knows he’ll make good on that promise.

[novantinuum]

Crack the Paragon, Chapter 9

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 7.2K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which a diamond is a girl’s best friend.

You can find the first/previous chapter and AO3 links in the reblogs! (I have to omit them from the original post these days to ensure this will show up in the tags.) If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos on AO3 as well.

Chapter warning: There is a fairly in-depth depiction of a dissociative flashback. Nothing I'd consider particularly extreme or deserving of a ratings bump, but I figured it'd be courteous to make a specific warning for it anyways.

_

Chapter 9: Symmetry 

On literally any other day, folding laundry would be relaxing.

There’s something comforting about falling back into predictable rhythms, hands running on automatic through assorted piles of clothes as her thoughts take a wandering vacation. Chores are boring, sure, but compared to the non-stop drive of the rest of her life Connie can at least appreciate how mindless they are. In a world filled with things like honors algebra and violin recitals and sword training, falling into the arms of subconscious repetition every once in a while feels nice, like a much needed mental break from the rest of reality.

The only problem is exactly that: it’s mindless. It doesn’t force her to use an ounce of brainpower. It doesn’t block her thoughts from waltzing down dark alleyways, or taking sharp swerves into territory unknown. It doesn’t distract her from obsessively checking her phone every other minute to see if she’s gotten any new calls or texts.

It doesn’t stop her from worrying about Steven.

Normally steady fingers twitch as she folds a sock inside its proper pair. Her pocket nearly feels like it’s burning. Groaning, she tosses the pair into her suitcase and pulls her phone out. The lock screen illuminates, showcasing a photo of a pretty sunset she took from the hill above the temple. Her mouth tightens. Once again, nothing. Giving in to the distraction, she unlocks her phone and taps to reach his latest message. Tired eyes gloss over his photo and those words for the thousandth time.

Accidentally got separated from gem—

I’ll call later, some kinda scary stuff happened—

Please don’t worry too much.

Well, too late for that. She’s not fooled by his blasé, chipper attitude in this text, or the forced grin of the concerningly pale-faced Steven (one of two! How can he claim he’s fine when he’s literally lost a part of himself??) at the forefront of the photo he sent. No, no. She won’t be convinced until she audibly hears it or can throw her arms around him in person, which is harder said than done when he hasn’t returned her calls and Mom won’t let her take the bus over to his place for the morning because she���s supposed to be “packing.” Ugh. As far as she’s concerned, visiting extended family in India can wait its turn. Something terribly wrong must have happened in Beach City last night, and the suspense of not knowing is nearly suffocating her.

But logically, she knows worrying about it nonstop won’t be of help to her or Steven. He’ll call when he calls. She just hopes it’s before she leaves the country. Her dad's a bit of a tightwad when it comes to the idea of upgrading to international call and text, to her chagrin. If she’s honest, it’s the one part of this trip she dreads— having zero contact with her best friend for a week.

Connie hastily breathes in and out, attempting to forcefully will the stress to dissipate. Let it go. Stop thinking about it. She gently tosses her phone on her bed where she can’t reach it, and pushes herself back into the dependable rhythm of laundry folding.

Licking her chapped lips as she works through the pile of newly clean clothes, she folds the turquoise colored silk choli bodice her mom arranged for a relative to hand weave for her on her last birthday and carefully places it with its matching saree. The decorative border running the length of the saree is embroidered with little flowers and swirls in gold thread. Connie smiles faintly, reverently running her hand across the smooth fabric. She’ll be wearing her typical shorts, overalls, and blouses for most of this trip, but she’s super excited to have the perfect excuse to bring this outfit out of her closet for once. It always makes her feel beautiful, with her hair pinned back and the saree draped around her, but she still can’t help but fear she’s ridiculously overdressed whenever she wears it anywhere outside of family events. A shame. Maybe she’ll build the courage to wear it one day when she goes to Steven’s house for sword practice. She’ll change into her usual training clothes during the practice itself, of course— she can’t risk tearing silk or restricting her movement— but it’d be cool to share a piece of her own family’s culture with him like that. Her cheeks heat up as she imagines his reaction. He’ll probably think it’s pretty. Pearl, too. Her teacher definitely has a flair for artistry, after all.

...but of course, that’s assuming Steven and the Gems are okay.

Her previously giddy thoughts wane like a withering petal. Sitting with her legs criss crossed on her bedroom floor, she hunches over with a heavy sigh, propping her chin into her hands. How long is this morning going to last?

Muffled amidst the cocoon of thick blankets adorning her bed, her phone’s ringer picks that very moment to blare into existence. Her nerves electrify in an instant, though whether that’s more a symptom of surprise or anticipation is anyone’s guess. Chest pounding, she shoots to her feet and scrambles across the room to pick it up. She sighs a breath of relief as her eyes skim over the caller ID. It’s him. And he wants to video chat! Without thinking twice she jabs her thumb against the screen to answer.

A handful of seconds pass as her phone attempts to connect over her family’s spotty wi-fi, heart twisting painfully in her throat as she steels herself for whatever potentially bad update about her friend’s life she’s about to receive, but then—

The video pushes through, and her friend appears on the screen. His hair is notably mussed, (more so than usual, that is), with wild curly locks sticking up from his head at weird angles.

“Mornin’, Connie,” he says, exhaustion evident on his face but besides that, appearing physically well. There’s actually color in his cheeks for one thing, unlike in the photo he sent before dawn.

“Steven!” she exclaims, subconsciously gripping the sides of her phone tighter in the absence of an actual hug. “You’re okay!”

“More or less,” he says in confirmation, the corner of his mouth turning up for a glimmer of a second. His expression quickly becomes tinted in shades of remorse, however, his voice on the brink of cracking. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t call back earlier! My phone died on me, and then I forgot to plug it in, and then I got distracted by a bunch of crazy family stuff, and that’s probably not a good excuse, but—“

She tries to feed him a reassuring smile, pushing down the blatant depth of her worry for his sake.

“Hey, don’t fuss about it. It happens. And anyways, you’re here now, right? So all that doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Her friend deals her a noncommittal shrug in response, and slouches against the rough hewn stone she’s only now noticing in the background. If she has to guess, he’s sitting on the beach, leaning against the sheer cliff walls where they first met almost two years earlier. Interesting, she muses, her brow furrowing. Usually when they do video calls Steven makes a point to stay in his house because he gets better reception there. On top of that, there’s an undeniable melancholy brewing within his eyes that would be amiss to ignore. He’s not even trying to mask it for once, which speaks volumes in and of itself about how heavy a burden it’s become, whatever it is that’s bothering him. Geeze, what on Earth happened over there last night?

“So, your gem,” she starts, edging towards the topic carefully. “Are you still—?”

He shakes his head, seemingly already catching on to what she’s gonna ask. “Nah, we’re together again! Turns out I can still fuse even without without him.”

“Hmm, I—“ Connie pauses, mind fixating for a second on the specific way he referred to his gem half, ascribing an undeniable sense of individuality to him— “well, I’m super glad you figured that out. But I still don’t understand, how can you get separated from your gem in the first place?”

“It’s, uh- a pretty complicated story, fair warning.”

“Pshhh, that’s no problem, I’ve got all morning,” she says, and props her phone against her bedpost so she can continue packing while listening. Freed once more, her hands seek out more unpaired socks to join.

“Only if you’re good with it, then.” The boy sighs deeply as he begins to prepare his words. The infamous drama zone kicking in, he lets his head lull backwards at gravity’s command against the cliffside’s face. She can’t help but cringe at the audible smack of his skull against smooth rock. “Ow!” he whines, immediately jerking forwards again. He rubs the back of his head in clear disbelief, softly laughing at his own folly. “Well, that was a pretty dumb idea.”

“Not gonna disagree,” she says with a giggle, glancing between her clothes and the screen in intervals as she folds. “Now, tell me everything. From the beginning. I still gotta pack, but I’m listening, I promise.”

A soft smile brightens his face, sunlight glinting off his dark brown irises. It’s enough to capture her stare, to make everything else in the world freeze to a stop. Just for one magic moment. Her heart almost flip flops at the gentle way he gazes at her, his eyes filled with a shy reverence that honestly, speaks volumes to his nature as a person. Because while he’s grown undeniably strong as a half-Gem, he’s far more than that. He's kind. He’s sensitive, and caring. So, so caring. More than anything else he tries his hardest to be extra empathetic about the needs of others around him, and she adores this about him, she truly does. Her only wish is that he could be this receptive about his own needs all the time, too. With her firsthand knowledge of the stressful stuff he and the other Gems deal with on a weekly basis, she can’t help but worry sometimes.

He breathes in, chest rising and falling as he prepares to tell his story. “Okay. So it all started yesterday morning when I was playing video games with the Gems…”

______

“—and then that’s when I figured out I could still fuse, right after I texted you. So we did, and- and well, that’s pretty much it,” Steven finishes with a bit of a waver in his voice, absentmindedly twirling his finger around a short curl at the nape of his neck as he adjusts his grip on the phone with his other hand.

With his story more or less complete, barring a few recent occurrences he’s hesitant to speak of right now, he pays careful attention to the minute fluctuations of Connie’s expression as everything he’s told her sinks in.

(He intentionally left out some of the more intimate bits, of course— like softly crying himself to sleep before Dad warped back, or having a near breakdown on the beach, or his conversation with half of himself. Some moments simply aren’t for others to know.)

Her voice wavers as she finally makes to respond. “Wow, that’s… a lot.”

“Yeah. And like, I wanna believe it’s over now, but everyone’s still acting so weird.”

“Mmm, and then there’s everything about your mom, and Pink Diamond…” She balls her hand against her mouth as she mulls over this information, her sobered glance shifting from him to some unspecified point in her bedroom.

And at seeing the subtle aversion of her gaze, he frets for a second. He squirms in the seat of the cold metal chair he’s made his temporary home in, toes curling inwards much like the creeping dread that’s trying to inch its way ever further into his heart, stifling any last hope of peace or calm. Replacing it with fear. Like, what if his real talk is too real? Too honest? What if he’s freaked her out, or overloaded her with the sheer weight of everything that’s happened to him, what if she’ll wanna keep her distance from him because of all this, what if—

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with all this,” she says softly, slashing the cord that’s restraining him within his frantic thoughts.

His shoulders relax, tension fading.

“I- is there anything I can do?” his friend continues. “To help, I mean?”

“Nah, don’t think so. Not right now, at least. Honestly, just having someone to talk to about all this means a lot.” He begins to slowly swing his legs back and forth, and leans against the coffee stained table top. “Normally I’d talk to one of the Gems, but. Well, y’know.”

His friend bobs her head in the affirmative. “Mmm.”

“It’s just…” he begins, pausing with a long sigh as he tries to organize all his jumbled emotions into something remotely explainable. His eyes drift away from his phone, focusing instead on the soft, tantalizing glow of the ice cream freezer across the shop. “I think I almost died, Connie. For real. I was shivering, a-and scared, and cracked, and- and yet they couldn’t stop fighting about whatever happened in the past. I don’t know anything about Pink Diamond, or what terrible things Rose apparently did, but now it’s like… even if they don’t mean to, that’s all they can think about when they look at me?”

Steven groans in exhaustion, slumping forward so the side of his face is pressed against the table. It’s comfy, never mind how dirty the surface probably is. He shifts his phone in his hands so Connie’s image is still parallel to him. “I dunno. I should’ve never popped that bubble in the first place. If I didn’t let Bismuth out, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Steven!” a loud voice calls from across the shop. “Are you gonna buy a donut or what?”

“Whu- huh??”

Startled, he shoots upright in the chair— knowing all too well from the faint thrum dancing under his skin that he’s on the brink of summoning his bubble on sheer impulse— before realizing that no, it’s only Lars, everything’s fine, I’m fine.

The surly teen is slumped against the counter next to Sadie, (who’s counting the money in the cash register on sheer compulsion, as if rifling through it one more time might cause the cash to magically multiply), both employees marinating in the boredom of yet another low traffic mid-September day at the Big Donut. He pauses to catch his breath, in retrospect feeling super silly for his near freak-out. His two favorite donut people have been here this whole time, of course. How he managed to become so sucked in by his call that he forgot is beyond him.

“Are you okay?” he hears Connie ask softly, obvious concern in her voice.

Lars on the other hand, apparently wasn’t finished calling him out.

“You can’t just- loiter here all morning and not buy anything!” he says. Brow threading together in perplexion, he whirls towards his coworker. “Right? Isn’t there a law for that? Sadie, help me out here-!”

She rolls her eyes so far they almost disappear back into her skull. “Oh, leave him alone, he’s fine...” “Yeah, I’m not loitering, I’m having a nice conversation with my friend!” he chimes, holding up his phone screen to them as proof.

“Hi Sadie, Lars,” Connie says.

The young lady behind the register smiles warmly despite the bags under her eyes, and pauses her task to wave to the camera.

Unimpressed, Lars leans his chin against his balled up fist, elbow propped on the counter. His tired eyes narrow into thin slits, exaggerated by the squish of his cheek against his bottom eyelid. “A ‘nice conversation?’ You’ve been sitting there for half an hour rambling about the misfortunes of near death,” he says, deadpan.

“I—“ His eyes grow wide as he combs back through the— now that he thinks about it— admittedly dour mood of everything he’s recently said. “Is that really what it sounded like...?”

Is he just being a killjoy to everyone? He thought it’d be okay to be real about it with his friend for once, since he usually keeps his deeper issues to himself, but perhaps...

“No, just ignore him,” Sadie says as she diligently sorts the coins, cutting in right before his mind can continue its downward spiral.

On the screen, Connie nods in wholehearted support. “It’s just venting, I don’t mind.”

And despite everything else he manages a smile at that, small and thin but filling him with a needed burst of energy all on its own.

“Huh,” Lars mutters, scrutinizing him closely. “Well, whatever it was, dark and brooding is a surprisingly good vibe for you. We’ll make a teenager of you yet.”

Steven blinks in confusion.

“But I already am a teenager,” he says, perhaps a bit more defensively than he ought have.

“Yeah!” chimes his friend over the phone.

“Wait, really? Aren’t you like, nine or somethin’?”

He squirms in his seat upon reference to his inability to physically age, feeling the flush touch his ears. “Uh, actually…”

“Dude, he’s been a teenager,” Sadie says. She stuffs the last of the quarters in their slot and securely shuts the cash register drawer. “He turned fourteen a few weeks ago, don’t you remember?”

“N- no… I just—“ Lars lets out a scoff, shooting her a moody sneer. “Whatever, okay? I don’t have the time or the patience to remember everyone’s birthdays in this dead-end town.”

“Only twenty-nine people even live here year round.”

“So? Your point is?”

“My point is that it’s kinda common courtesy to look up and pay attention to your surroundings every once in a while?”

He turns up his nose. “Ugh, well you know what—“

Steven purses his lips as he watches the two of them devolve into yet another round of petty squabbling. (Why all of these fights lately…? What’s wrong with everyone, what’s in the air?) Suddenly feeling very much like high tailing it out of here, he shifts in his seat. He and Connie share a knowing glance, one that quickly lets him knows they’re on the same page. Originally, he came here to use the store wi-fi since he didn’t want to be at home right now, but he can probably still use it just fine sitting at the table outside. Without any overt announcement of the fact, he stands and makes his way to the door. Lars and Sadie are too caught up in their spat to notice him leave.

Only when the cool breeze greets him outside can he relax. He kicks back in one of the chairs set out front of the store, adjusting his phone in his hand. Gulls call loudly from the boardwalk in their endless search for trashed food. A handful of people he doesn’t recognize— tourists!— splash in the water or play in the sand, a pair of young men holding hands as they cross the public beach. Sunlight is finally breaking through the cloud cover, brilliant blue overtaking dreary grey. He smiles faintly. Despite everything, it truly is a beautiful morning.

“Sorry about all that!” he says to his friend on the line, glancing back at the doors of the Big Donut. “They really are cool people when you got to know ‘em, but they kinda disagree about stuff a lot.”

Connie stifles a laugh, her expression unreadable for a moment. “I know you keep saying they’re probably dating, but I honestly don’t believe you.”

His skin grows clammy all of a sudden.

Don’t… believe...

He's frozen. It’s almost like he’s with Sapphire, trapped again in that old motel room shivering amidst her frost powers. And yet simultaneously he’s not, ‘cause… because he’s burning up, hand clutching at thin air. He’s terrified. He’s completely alone, he’s—

He’s back in the forge.

Bismuth’s there, looming like a reaper above him, arm shapeshifted into some sort of curved saw blade and held aloft. Thick, viscous lava boils angrily in the pool surrounding the platform he’s on, and more than anything it’s a warning, a constant warning, and he’s stupid, he’s so unobservant and stupid, he should have paid heed to it when he came down here in the first place, why didn’t he—

Heat blasts almost violently at him as he shuffles away on hands and feet, scooting backwards on the blistering stone. He heaves for breath amidst his panic. Meanwhile, the channels of hard light running parallel with his veins buzz alongside the rush of adrenaline keeping him alive. Sweat beads on his forehead, sticky and unnaturally cool.

No matter how hard he tries, he’s too weak against her. His shield isn’t strong enough.

He knows this for a fact now, knows that Bismuth can dissipate both it and his bubble with enough force, and that’s a super scary thought but it doesn’t stop the primal instinct pulsing insistently at the back of his mind, pushing him to stand back up, to summon his weapon anyways and try to defend himself. It’s nothing but a lost cause, though.

Now, his only true shield is his words.

“Wait, I’m not my mom!” he cries in desperation, shielding himself with his arms. “I don’t know what she did, but I’m sure she didn’t want to hurt you!”

The stark shadow obscuring the rainbow haired Gem’s eyes grows darker.

“It’s too late,” she spits, preparing to swing her arm down. “I don’t believe you anymore!”

And then with a shallow gasp he’s here again, here at this dingy plastic table sitting under the bright and blue hope of morning, his phone clutched in a vice-like grip. Breath passes through his lips shakily. What the heck was that?? Was his gem feeding him old memories like what happened in his sleep, or something? Whatever it was, he’s genuinely not sure how much time has passed during the vision, a realization which unnerves him. Seemingly not too long, as Connie hasn’t moved to speak yet. Yet still her too-familiar words echo in his mind, pulsing with the thrum of inflamed blood vessels at an open wound, and without the blessing of inhibition he blurts out the first thought that reveals itself.

“That’s fair,” he says, voice cracking. “I probably wouldn’t believe me about a lot of things right now.”

Her brow creases with obvious concern. “Hey... Hey, I didn’t mean that personally. I was just messing around with ya’. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I guess I just feel... really on edge.” Jittery fingers card through thick curls as his chest softly rumbles in the absurdity of it all. “Geeze, I’m being a real sad sack today, huh?”

“Well, you’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah, but to be fair ‘near death scenarios’ are pretty much just an occupational hazard at this point. And I’ve handled that fine before, so…”

“Still doesn’t erase the fact that it’s impacted you hard this time,” she says softly, leveling her gaze squarely on him, her intuitive brown eyes disassembling his insecurities and then putting them back together like a puzzle.

He flushes, shrinking where he sits. He pulls his legs up onto the seat, clutching them to his chest. Intuitively he knows she’s right, he knows that all this has messed with him more than the danger of Gem stuff normally does, but he still can’t help but feel… ashamed? That he’s feeling this way in the first place? It’s bizarre. It’s completely dumb, and the more he fixates on it the more dumb it becomes. Eventually he decides he’s not in the right mental state to try and weave a halfway rational response to her and elects to swerve the topic.

“So there’s also another not-great thing that happened,” he begins, hugging his knees. “Should probably mention.”

“Yeah…?”

“Garnet unfused over all this. Maybe for good this time.”

She gasps, and in an instant her face shoots closer on his screen.

“Wait what? She- you mean that Ruby and Sapphire aren’t—“

“Yup.”

Connie covers her mouth in shock, eyes glistening. “Oh, no! Steven, I’m so sorry! And you don’t think they’ll be able to work it out?”

“No, they made it seem pretty permanent.”

“That’s… really rough,” she sighs in solidarity. “‘Cause I mean, at least since it’s fusion she’s still there in spirit, but- you grew up knowing Garnet.”

“Exactly,” he nods. “I love Ruby and Sapphire a whole bunch, but it’s still different, y’know? Like, it’s like I lost someone important to me. Maybe forever. And... it feels so awful,” he says, pushing past the lump in his throat that he wishes more than anything would go away. “All of it. It’s like everyone in my family’s falling apart. The moment she unfused, Sapphire immediately shut herself in her room, and then Ruby was so upset she ran away, and Amethyst and Pearl started yelling at each other about everything, so… I left. And called you,” he explains, gesturing at her. “And now I’m here, chillin’ at the Big Donut. And that’s pretty much it.”

“Gosh...”

“Yeah.”

“Again, I’m sorry you had to deal with all this. I mean, outright getting cleaved from half of yourself? I can’t even imagine…” She bites at her knuckles for a moment, deep in thought. “Makes me wish I had more than sympathy to offer.”

“Nah, just you listening to everything means a whole bunch. I really appreciate that,” he says. “I—“ his voice wavers a bit as he feels the heat of the blush blossoming across his cheeks— “I really appreciate you. A lot. You- you know that, don't you?”

She giggles, the sound a beautiful reassurance to his ears. “Of course I do! And anyways, you always take time to listen to me when I’m down. That’s what jam buds are for, right?”

“Right,” he says, the word reverberating in harmony in the deepest reaches of his heart.

“Steven!” a voice calls from the distance.

Connie’s brow furrows. “Is that…?”

He whips his head around, squinting in the sunlight to catch a clearer glimpse of the figure running towards the edge of the Big Donut’s patio, his long hair rippling behind him. At the sight of family, his eyes light up. He waves his free arm in greeting.

“Dad!”

“Hey, kiddo!” his dad says, crossing the last few steps to the patio chair he’s curled up in. Gasping for breath, he plops himself in the chair adjacent. “I thought I’d find you here. You doin’ better now?”

He makes a half grimace, and shakes his flattened hand in a so-so gesture.

Dad’s hopeful smile fades, quickly replaced with a compassionate sense of understanding that could only come from years of hard earned age and experience. “Yeah. Yeah, I getcha. Seeing people you love fight like that’s never fun. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He presses his mouth into a line as he contemplates. To be honest, after venting about everything to Connie, fixating on negative emotions more is the last thing he wants to do, but he doesn’t wanna be rude to his dad. Thank goodness he has a valid excuse to avoid it altogether!

“Uh, I’m kinda on the phone, here,” he says, showing him his phone screen as proof.

“Oh, by golly, so you are! Hey, Connie. How are you hangin’ in there?”

She flashes a smile. “Hi, Mr. Universe! I’m okay, thanks.”

“Heh, Mr. Universe, huh?” he chuckles softly, scratching at his beard. “Such formalities! You’ve known me for what, how long? Please, you can call me Greg.”

“Thanks, but my mom says I’m not allowed to call grown ups by their first names.”

“Dr. Maheswaran has all sorts of weird mom rules,” Steven chimes in, nodding.

“Hoo boy, do I know about those,” his dad commiserates in a flat tone. He makes a big show out of mulling this over, humming as he taps at his chin. “Well then, don’t think of me as a grown up, but more of a big kid with, erm… slightly bigger responsibilities.”

“Uh, okay!” Connie says, hesitantly glancing between him and Steven. “If it’s alright with you, then, Mr. Greg!”

Dad‘s mouth turns up in a fond smirk, and then he glances back at him. “Anyways, I wanted to let you know that the Gems have cooled down. I had… a bit of a talk with them, let’s say,” he mutters, clear exhaustion betraying his otherwise content demeanor. “Should be fine to go back when you’re ready.”

“Did Ruby return??”

“Nah, she’s still MIA. But Pearl and Amethyst are on the case.”

He sighs, disappointment flooding his heart. He’s not sure why he ever dreamed otherwise. She’ll come back eventually, of course. She’s gotta. According to Garnet, Rubies are very social Gems, which means they prefer sharing in the company of others over being alone. And even when she’s not fused with Sapphire, she’s still a part of his family. He dearly hopes she knows that.

“I hope her and Sapphire will be okay,” he mutters.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine in the end,” he says with a shrug. “They’ve come apart before, after all.”

Connie hums in agreement. “Yeah, sometimes even my parents need some quiet time away from each other. That’s totally normal!”

Dropping his legs to dangle from the chair again, Steven watches an orange spotted butterfly flutter between the beach umbrellas set up on the patio tables, meeting with its other half before both journeying away in the wind. His cheeks lift at their attempts at reassurance, and boy, does it feel so much more natural than frowning pensively.

“D’ya really think so?”

Smiling softly, his dad affectionately musses his hair. “All we can do is wait and see, bud. Wait and see.” He stands to his feet then, grunting as he uses the table’s surface to help push him up. Gaze growing somewhat weary, he peers with purpose towards the far side of the hill. “Anyways, your old man will be over at the car wash, scrubbing soap scum off the floors. Eughh, right? But hey, if you need anything… a hug, an ear, some classic fatherly advice… come and find me, okay? Take it easy this morning.” Grinning, he turns back to wave goodbye to the girl mirrored on the screen. “Nice seeing ‘ya, Connie. Take care.”

“You too!” she waves in return.

And with that farewell his dad begins his casual jaunt down the sidewalk, leaving the two of them alone once more. Except, he supposes that’s not true at all, is it? Even without Connie, even without Dad, or the Gems. Because if he can take away one good thing from this whole messed up experience, just one hopeful message, it’s that he’s never been alone a day of his life. That’s simply the nature of fusion, you see. Even in the darkest, scariest moments...

I’ve never actually been alone, he marvels. I’ve just been me.

______

Once Steven’s dad leaves to scrub down the floors at his car wash, their conversation evolves considerably from its bleak beginnings. Enough about all this Gem stuff, Steven says, what’s new with you? Besides, uh- folding underwear, of course!

Connie laughs, rolling her eyes at the visible blush on his face as she pushes the aforementioned undergarments out of frame. She eagerly shares some of the finer details of her India trip, telling him all about when she’s leaving for the airport, (late this evening, on a red-eye flight across the Atlantic), what area of the country she’s visiting, (Punjab, where some of her extended family lives), and how long she’ll be gone (just a week!). From there, the topic shifts between a variety of themes, ranging anywhere from her anxiety and excitement at starting school again when she gets back, the pride of finally figuring out a challenging song she’s wanted to perfect for a while on her violin, to this super compelling Unfamiliar Familiar fanfic she found where Lisa discovers she’s secretly heir to the throne of the corrupt society she’s always been vying to escape from underneath the authoritative thumb of.

“Wow, this is the story I never knew I always needed so badly in my entire life,” Steven says, brown irises turning starry-eyed in the sunlight. He’s sitting atop the hill now, resting content on his belly in the grass in front of the lighthouse.

“I know, right?? I’ll send you the link,” she promises, dangling her feet in the air behind her as she lays on the carpet.

He pumps his fist in the air triumphantly. “Woo, free infinite books!”

“Well, keep in mind, it’s not finished yet. Apparently it’s supposed to update bi-weekly, but I think the author got a bit boggled down by life stuff recently.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. I hope they’re doin’ okay.”

“Same… But hey,” she says with a soft laugh, “at least it’s a long fic, right?”

“Y’know,” he interjects the current topic suddenly, rising to his knees. “I wonder if I can see your house from here! D’ya think that’s possible, ‘cause I wanna see if that’s possible!”

He switches his camera’s view from front to back, the image of his face replaced by the scenic vista of the cozy beach town below, ridged by the peaceful waters of the Atlantic and Rehoboth Bay. She can see everything, from the gigantic pastry shaped facade atop the Big Donut, to the water tower clear on the other side of the peninsula. Beyond, lush green grasslands— dotted with clusters of small residences, humanity’s touch on the Earth— stretch as far into the horizon as far as a young dreamer can imagine.

Connie picks up her phone from the bedpost she leaned it against and squints at the screen, trying to map out the precise scale of the countryside between them in her mind. “Hmm, probably not. I think my town’s pretty hidden by the surrounding hills.”

“No silly, not from right here, here! I meant, from up here!”

She yelps as the view of Beach City on her phone screen jolts in a burst of sudden, rapid movement, shrinking smaller and smaller as the seconds tick by.

“Steven!! What are you—“

But internally, she finds the answer to this question before she can even finish asking it. Clearly, he jumped into the sky, so… so he’s using his floating ability. Even though she’s never seen him utilize it to leap to this extreme, it’s the only possibility that makes any ounce of sense. Her mouth falls agape at the picturesque view below, the town beginning to looking more and more like a blurred watercolor painting. Distantly, she wonders what it would feel like to be up there with him, her hands clutched tight in his, the wind dancing through her long hair.

"Consarn it! Your house is too small to pick out. Hmm..."

Or even as Stevonnie, can they float too? she wonders. Maybe one day she can ask!

“Oh my gosh, this is just like I’m on the giant slingshot they used to have at Funland,” she says, averting her eyes as her best friend continues his ascent into the shimmering blue sky. She lets slip a slight grimace, finding the stark contrast between the movement on the screen and the still permanence of her bedroom dizzying the more she watches. “And I’m starting to think there’s a reason they shut that ride down…”

“Hey, my floating powers are way better than The Comet,” he chirps playfully, having finally reached the apex of his leap. “Hah, maybe that means I should start my own attraction at Funland!”

“Doing what?” she says, unable to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the very concept. “Bubbling people on the tracks of the rollercoaster like the day we first met? I’m pretty confident that’d be a major health and safety violation.”

“Aww, but those are the best kinds of attractions!”

She hears him grunt with minor exertion, and suddenly the aerial glimpse of the countryside she’s watching on her phone drops out of sight, replaced in an instant with a sweeping panorama of the boundless sky, the line of the horizon with the sea, the ground looming ominously hundreds of feet below. Rinse and repeat, over and over. Everything is spinning, she realizes in alarm, and there’s no end in sight.

“Whoa-oH, it’s the Stevencoaster!” he cries in childish glee as he somersaults.

His lighthearted joy is so contagious she can’t stop the grin stretching wide across her face.

“Careful, you doofus, you’re gonna make me motion sick and I’m not even there,” she giggles breathlessly.

“Nooo! And the Stevencoaster makes everyone toss their cookies! Words truly cannot describe the culinary carnage left in its wake.”

She rolls her eyes in fondness at his antics, and sits up on her carpet. “No, but seriously,” she reaffirms, “that’s making me pretty dizzy.”

“Oh, sorry!”

Soon enough she watches him level out from his spin, his camera focusing for a moment on the ground a hundred feet below his sandaled feet before flipping to show his face once more, framed by wild dark curls. His irises are shimmering an unnatural pink she’s never seen before. It's enough of an unexpected shock that her smile fades, ever so slightly.

“Better?” he says, beaming at her as he continues on his slow descent to Earth.

They’re still pink. And his pupils… She’s not just imagining it, right? She blinks heavily.

“Y- yes, much.”

“Connie? What’s wrong?” he asks, landing upon the grass. His brow furrows.

Even more notably, his eyes are just as normal and brown as they ever were. Connie balls her hand against her chin as she deliberates this. Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser.

She shakes her head, silently mulling over how best to explain this. “Nothing, it’s just… I could’ve sworn your eyes were… different, for a second.”

“Different?” Steven‘s grin stretches so wide he looks like he’s about to burst at any moment. “Eye don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Well, if you become my pupil I could explain it to you,” she giggles.

“I’m listening,” he chimes eagerly.

“Okay, so honestly it could’ve just been a trick of the light, but… it’s almost like they flashed pink for a second. And your pupils were all funny, kind of, uh- slitted! Like a cat’s.”

“Pink?”

“Yeah.”

His face goes shockingly pale. “Connie, when was this?”

“Just a second ago,” she shrugs. “You were still floating.”

“Floating,” he repeats under his breath, seeming haunted by the very thought.

“Steven?” she calls, a sudden twist in her chest at the sight of his clear distress. “Steven, what’s wrong?”

“I, I—“ he stammers, unable to even meet her glance. “I’m really sorry, but I gotta go. I’ll text you later?”

“Uh- okay. Thanks for calling—“

He hangs up.

“...back,” she finishes softly, shoulders sinking.

She sighs heavily, dropping her phone into her lap and sitting back against her bed frame. What did she say? What could be so scary about the idea of glowing pink eyes to make him react like that? Sure, it’s a bit strange, but it’s no more unusual than any of his other unique abilities. She only hopes she didn’t ruin his good mood all over again by bringing his attention to it.

Her mother knocks on the doorframe outside, signaling her presence.

“Come in,” she mutters glumly.

The door creaks open. Mom steps through, and leans against the wall with her arms crossed, glancing knowingly between her and the phone still clutched like a lifeline in her hands.

“Are you still worried about that boy?” she asks.

Connie can almost hear the capitalization inherent in her tone. 'That Boy.’ Even though she and Steven are just friends, she knows full well who her mother thinks he is to her. (Not that she’d complain if that were the case, but that’s simply not a thing with them, and really that’s fine, she’s fine, their status quo is comfortable how it is—)

“Yeah… I just got off the phone with him," she says, letting her head sink into the folds of the covers trailing off the side of her bed. "It sounds like he’s been through a lot lately.”

“Well, when a child spends all day fighting monsters instead of going to school like he’s supposed to, I can’t say I’m surprised,” her mom says under her breath.

“Mom, come on, this is serious!”

“Yes, sorry, you’re right,” she says wearily, pressing her hand to her temple. “Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean that it’s fair of me to say.”

She turns away, and hugs her knees to her chest. Like a storm on a late summer day, her mind brims with so many things she wishes she could admit, so many things that need to be released if she wants to find any peace about this. But how to start? How can she make her mother understand?

“I’ve really been looking forward to this trip, y’know?" Connie says, feeling oh-so vulnerable sitting on the floor just like she always would as a young child, eyes glistening as she calls upon her mother for support. "Really. And I know we gotta leave tonight, but just knowing he’s hurting and I won’t be able to text him at all makes part of me wish… that I could stay here."

Unable to dam it up anymore, a few tears spill over to roll unbridled down her cheek. Her chest quivers uncontrollably as her face screws up and she begins to cry.

"Oh, honey," she breathes, moving to kneel on the floor next to her. She rests her hand on her upper back, gently kneading the stress out of her tense muscles.

"He's always been there for me when I needed someone to talk to, o-or somethin' to feel better," she sniffles, wiping the damp from her eyes and nose. "A- and then- the moment he needs me, I can't be there for him at all, an' it's not fair!"

Upon seeing the trail of snot beginning to drip towards her upper lip, her mother grimaces. She reaches across her for the small square box perched atop her nightstand. "Tissue," she says firmly, passing her the box.  

She accepts the gift, pulling one out, and blows her nose hard.

As she's dabbing away, cleaning up the evidence of her tears, Mom's fingers shift to comb through the length of her hair. She twirls through long dark strands and pulls them out of her face. "Even if I don't get all this magic stuff you're both dealing with," she begins, voice brimming with compassion, "believe me, I understand more than most what it feels like to be cut off from the people you love. So... I’ll change your phone plan to international, how’s that? That way, at the very least you’ll still be able to contact him.”

Her eyes light up. “Wow, really?? But that’s super expensive!”

“Says your father,” she scoffs with soft laughter. “We can afford it. And anyways, I’d hate to see you miserable the whole trip.”

“That’ll be perfect!” she says, throwing her arms tight around her mother. And although she can’t see her face, Connie knows from the reassuring solidness of their embrace that every bit of the love she has for her is returned in full. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispers, her anxious heart finally finding a glimmer of peace.

[universal-kitty]

“I’ve missed you so much.” for you and Wrench! 💖🧡 [robotarmjokes]

❤ ▬▬ emotional starters to kick you in the feelings.

@robotarmjokes

   It used to be uncommon for Kat to be in one space for long. Social facades were highly upkept with them in the early days, right down to occasionally buying figures or dice from the game shop DedSec hid themselves within. Being in and out, keeping up relations with family while also still being a key player in the San Fran branch was extremely useful.

   However- and rather predictably- said outings had dropped pretty harshly when Wrench and Kat got together. Wrench was a sucker for attention and Kat was the one all too happy to give it to him; the two glued at the hip, they went a little bit of everywhere together, doing who-knows-what. (After all, not even the team could verify some of the shit they would later report back, amidst delighted giggles and flattery to their other half.)

   So when the call came in on Kat’s personal phone from their mom, who was stubbornly not backing down from a trip she wanted to take with the whole family... Kat, ever too nice for their own good, eventually relented to the pressure. Informing the crew of the news, packing up their bags, a shitton of kisses for the already attention-starved Wrench, and they were out on a plane back to NV.

   .....Wrench had never been more insufferable than he had in that week Kat was out.

   He whined, he pouted (even behind the mask; you could hear it in his voice), he wouldn’t shut up about his missing spouse and how much he was pining for them to come back... Like nobody had gotten the hint the first twenty times he informed them. It eventually had gotten on Josh’s nerves; the hacker had started wearing headphones more- the good ones- to cancel out the sounds of Wrench’s whining and moping. Or the equally sappy video calls they had.

   At least he eventually moved to the garage when he called Kat...? Then it was just other people’s choice if they wanted to walk in on....whatever they were talking about that day, whether it be mushy, casual, or suggestive. (Higher praises to the fact that Wrench showed some unusual tact; he never went too lewd around the crew and casually admitted he only got like that once back at home. They didn’t have to hear his business?! Who is this man?!?)

   Still, Kat’s return was much appreciated once they saw the update on the group chat of them on the flight home.

   “You’re finally back!!!” Sitara was the first one to greet Kat, rushing over in a hurry to hug the other, lifting them off of their feet.

   “I’m back! Yeah!!” Kat was laughing, grin bright in a rare showing of toothy smile; typically not something Kat did....much of ever. Too self-conscious. It was really nice to see.

   Marcus stepped over next, putting a bag away before giving them a one-armed hug. “Welcome back, Kool Kat,” he muttered, keeping the DedSec codename under the radar of the public around them.

   “Hail hydra,” they whispered in reply, causing Marcus to snort into laughter, shaking his head. “Act like a nerd, get the nerdisms.” Kat looked around, sharing a high-five with Josh, who was was hanging his arm out the window for one. “Speaking of nerds, where’s Wrench?”

   “Made him stay back,” Sitara replied, closing the trunk. “Had Ray drive us here, but... We knew Wrench would be holding us back from getting you fast, so... Left him behind to wait~”

   “Oh, that’s not going to go well... You know that, right?”

   “Hey, it’s worth if it means you can have your sappy shit somewhere else,” she shot back, Kat tossing their head back as they laughed, nodding.

   “A’ight. Fair enough.”

.:.

   The crew helped get Kat’s stuff out, dropping them off at the apartment they stayed at. With a chorus of goodbyes, they managed to scoot everything up into the elevator, antsy with excitement to see their husband again. What a dork... Probably so damn antsy to see them again, too..... Agh, why won’t the elevator go faster already?!?

   At the sound of luggage in the hallway, a mask poked out of a doorway, stars on the screen before swapping to hearts the second he saw his spouse trucking down the hall.

   “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he purred, hurrying out to help with the stuff. Anything that meant they’d be home- officially- quicker and he could kiss ‘em breathless.

   “Not using your eye drops? Shame on you,” they teased. 

   “Heh, I’m pretty sure the fog in this mask is eye drops enough.”

   “Grooooossssss!”

   “I don’t know what else you expect of me, baby,” he replied smugly, grinning under the mask as he swept everything in and out of the way, waiting until Kat closed the door behind them before he took off the mask. Waiting another few moments for Kat to shrug off their laptop and backpack before sweeping them into his arms and cuddling them close with a sigh of relief. “...Missed you.”

   “I missed you, too, Reg.” They kissed his hairline gently, and with ease since he’d basically lifted them up off the floor and didn’t seem willing to put them down any time soon.

   “No, like.... I’ve missed you so much. So, so much.”

   “Don’t worry, babe.... Heh, I know,” Kat crooned, pressing more kisses to his head, brushing their lips over his birthmark and smiling warmly when he shuddered. “C’mon, get us on the couch. I wanna cuddle you proper.”

   No more words had to be said after that, Wrench more than happy to sit back into the couch, adjusting his hold until he could cuddle his spouse closer. It was a surprise he wasn’t being more handsy, but suppose the distance for even a week had him more than content for the little things, huh...? And of course, as usual, Kat would spoil him with it, hands running through his hair and caressing his face, nuzzling their noses before kissing him gently, repeatedly. Each time, Wrench sighing a melting a little more into the couch.

   “...That sucked,” he admitted quietly, arms tightening a little. “Not having you here with me... Didn’t realize how quiet and lonely this place could be without you.”

   “A cat would help, huh?” His eyes- once closed- opened to peek at Kat with a raise of his brow. They grinned, laughing breathlessly. “What can I say? I’m persistent.”

   “Mmm, I know it,” he agreed with a sigh, smile still growing on his lips. “One of the many things I love about you...but seriously. I think I’d rather go with you next time.”

   “.......You’d want to meet them?” Kat sat up straight, eyes wide. If there was one thing they were mutual on- even when getting married- it was family didn’t have to get involved. Sure, their side had gotten into a tizzy when Kat ‘fessed up later, but they stayed stubborn with Wrench’s help and support. Nobody had a “right” to be there! Kat and Wrench had wanted a private wedding, friends only!! That’s what they agreed on, and nobody had a right to pitch a fit over the lack of invites to family. They could take the ring pictures and fuck off.

   ...So to hear that Wrench would want to meet them so late into it all...

   “I mean, not meet-meet them, but if I have to be around them to be around my baby, then I’ll exist in their space.” Kat snorted at the response, smiling all over again as they kissed him quickly.

   “Just don’t start a fight with my stepdad.”

   “Mhhh, no promises.”

   It was quiet after that, Kat eventually slumping down to curl around Wrench, hands gripping his hoodie since they couldn’t get their arms around him and face nestled into his neck, cheek on his shoulder. It was warm and comfortable....and home felt so much better now that they were back together.

   “...Glad to be home again,” Kat murmured.

   “So happy you’re home,” Wrench agreed, kissing the side of their head. “...I love you, Rach.”

   “Mmm... I love you, too, Reg.” 

[sapphicscholar]

Pride Month Prompts Day 5: AU/Free For All (Sanvers)

From this Pride Month Prompts post! I’m taking the opportunity to write some short fics for a variety of pairings that I haven’t written for as much, maybe at all. They won’t be going on AO3, so I’ll be sure to tag them all with #pride month prompts so you can find them later if you want.

Day 5: AU/Free For All

Pairing: Sanvers

A/N: Credit for the idea (AU where Alex meets Maggie at the farmers market where Maggie runs a stand with her home-grown vegetables) goes to @dimplescanary! 

“If you’d let me drive, you wouldn’t have to spend the first 10 minutes of every stop complaining about how stiff you are,” Kara said as she made a grab for the keys.

Alex jerked them back just in time. “Not a chance. I’d like to keep the contents of my stomach inside my stomach, thank you very much.”

With a roll of her eyes, Kara turned in the direction the signs for the farmer’s market were pointing. “Now that I understand how fragile the human sense of equilibrium is, I’m, like, a thousand times better.” Alex shuddered at the memories from the first time she’d tried to teach Kara to drive a few months before official records declared her 16 because, as Kara had rationalized it, “I was stuck in outer space for decades, Alex. I’m basically middle-aged.”

“Maybe once you’ve been here for a full decade I’ll let you try again.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Still, Kara wouldn’t complain. Last summer Alex had come home from Stanford for two full weeks and, much to Eliza’s chagrin, taught her how to ride a motorcycle, and she knew that Alex was voluntarily missing a lot of research time for their summer road trip to celebrate Kara’s graduation.

As they followed the signs through yet another small Midwestern town--and honestly, Kara was starting to see the appeal Kal-El had felt with how quiet they could be, even with her super senses--they chatted about nothing and everything. Kara talked again about how excited she was for her journalism elective amidst all the required gen-eds, and Alex gushed about how smart Professor Frankel was and how innovative her research methods were and how she drove the coolest motorcycle, and could you even believe that professors drove motorcycles?

As they got closer to the market, Kara perked up. “Ooh! It smells like they’ve got baked goods.”

Alex snickered, shoving lightly at Kara’s shoulder. “Put your nose down. You look like an overeager puppy.”

“If we get there and don’t find the good donuts because you wouldn’t let me sniff them out, it’s on your conscience.”

Alex just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

A few minutes later, they rounded the corner and found a large park covered in tents and tables and even a miniature stage with live music. Squeals rang out from the playground area where children ran around, and small groups of people wandered between booths, filling their bags with fresh meat and produce from the local farms. Since they weren’t in any rush, Kara and Alex simply started at the stand closest to them and began working their way around the perimeter, happily accepting as many samples as were offered--at least until they got to the lady handing out beets because no thank you, please.

One of the booths they reached seemed to be deserted, though there was a cute, handwritten sign propped up that read, “Peas stay honest - I’ll be back in 5!” in curling blue chalk. Alex was pleased to see a $10 bill tucked beneath the corner of the sign; apparently people respected whoever it was running the Lettuce Make Your Day stand. Kara drifted over to the next booth, while Alex lingered at the empty stand, looking for the prices of the small cartons of strawberries.

“Look good, don’t they?” came a voice from behind her.

“Yeah,” Alex began, spinning around on her heel. But then she forgot everything she was going to say about too many days on the road and too few fruits and vegetables and wow wouldn’t her mom pay money to hear her saying that. Because standing behind her was the cutest girl she’d ever seen, with a broad smile that made her dimples pop and dark hair twisted into two long braids and a flannel shirt that Alex wished meant she was gay but probably just meant she was a farmer or a midwesterner. “Uhm.”

“Alex!” Kara’s voice burst through the bubble that seemed to have sprung up between Alex and the mystery girl and the rest of the farmer’s market. “Look!” She gestured at the large bins of cauliflower. “It’s ghost broccoli.” As she cackled and made eerie ghost noises, Alex felt her cheeks blush scarlet.

“Kara,” she hissed, eyebrows raising as she tilted her head meaningfully in the cute girl’s direction. “Stop it.”

“Er, right.” After a moment, she smiled over at them and stepped up beside Alex. “I’m Kara. I see you’ve already met my sister Alex.”

“I didn’t actually get her name yet, but it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Maggie.”

Alex smiled and nodded, and Kara rolled her eyes. “We’re currently on a road trip across the country. It was hard getting this one away from all her super smart research, but she’s sweet enough to make time for me, aren’t you Alex?” Kara poked Alex’s ribs.

“Right, um, yeah, anything for my sister.” Kara stepped on Alex’s toes next. “What are you doing here?”

Maggie pointed at the empty booth behind them. “Working.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize, sorry, I can let you get back to work.”

Maggie shrugged, an easy smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. “If you’re thinking about buying anything, I can call it work.”

“I was actually looking at those strawberries. They look”--Alex paused as Maggie plucked one from a half-empty carton and held it out to her--“beautiful. I mean, tasty! I mean, amazing. Good. Fine. They look like strawberries.” She could hear Kara muttering under her breath about it being amazing that Alex managed to find dates, but she felt rooted to the spot.

“Well, I’m only a summer worker, but I think they’re pretty beautiful.” Maggie leaned forward a little and sent a wink in Alex’s direction. “Or maybe that’s just the person looking at them.”

Alex felt some of her nerves ebb away at that. If Maggie could be cheesy and not straight and call her beautiful, then she could certainly manage some basic conversation. Still, having a few minutes to slow her heart rate while she sampled the strawberries helped. “Holy shit, these are really good.”

“Better than fine?”

“So much better.”

Maggie leaned one of her hips against her side of the table as she gestured at the little “About the Farm” sign that hung behind her. “Sue Anne does a really great job. Doesn’t grow as much as some of the competitors”--Maggie’s hand swept around the room--“but she does an amazing job with the things she chooses.”

“How’d you end up working there?” Alex asked, barely noticing as Kara wandered away.

“I was looking for a summer job after freshman year, something that might come with housing so I could stay for the summer. My Intro to Bio professor is Sue Anne’s wife, so she put us in contact, and I’ve been working here every summer since.”

“That’s really cool. I’ve always been cooped up in a lab all summer.”

“This is my last summer actually. I graduated this spring, and I’ll start up at the Police Academy in Gotham in a month.” A handful of customers came up then, and Alex stepped away, letting Maggie handle them and ignoring Kara, who stood a few booths over making exaggerated kissing motions and giggling.

For the next hour and a half, while Kara ate her way around the market, Alex chatted with Maggie on and off between customers. After Kara had texted three times in a row, though, she knew she finally had to wrap it up.

“I should probably head out, let you work and all that, but I want to buy some of those strawberries before I leave.”

“Here, they’re on the house.” Maggie pushed over one of the cartons.

“No, I can’t do that--plus, I kept you busy for so long.”

“Trust me, you made my afternoon a hundred times better.”

Alex swallowed heavily as she dragged her toes along the grass. “Um, maybe as a thank you, would you want to come to dinner? We’re gonna spend the night here and probably try to find a decent local restaurant, and it’d be nice--or, I mean, I’d really like to see you again before I leave.”

“You asking me out?” The question was blunt, but the smile was genuine.

With a shrug, Alex tried not to look too hopeful. “You saying yes?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

Alex beamed, and in an instant, Kara was at her side. “So I hear I’m third-wheeling it tonight?”

Before Alex could kick Kara in the shins, Maggie was laughing loudly. “Only if you don’t mind.”

“Hey, I’m just impressed that you’re still giving her a chance after all the stammering and blushing.”

“Oh I don’t know...I think it was pretty cute.”

[veridium]

that’s what you get

Oh boy. Oh dear. Well, we have made it to Part 14 of this wild ride, and I have realized that I am in deep, boys. I figure, what’s some more suffering to temper the sweetness with? So, here, a fresh serving of angst and emotions with a side of...sushi?

Thanks to @bitchesofostwick and her Ellinor for providing 99% of the fluff content in this episode because, poor Cass and Liv, it’s not in the cards this time...as you can tell by my selection of titles being a very particular Paramour song. 

Enjoy the somber pining, dears!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 // part 12 // part 13

-- -- -- -- -- 

Fridays are pains. Three classes, work, among other things -- they always feel like the final, difficult hurdle before the weekend rolls around. It helps to run into Ellinor in the dorm bathroom to brush teeth and dance around in pajamas until they feel some semblance of happiness. Alas, when Olivia stumbles in her black satin pajamas and finds no one there standing like George Michael from Arrested Development with a toothbrush in her mouth, it’s rather odd.

She looks at her phone. No messages -- no “got back safe” specifically. Oh no, is this when she has to turn into the woman from Kill Bill because someone snatched her best friend in the dark of the night?

-- Hey!! You make it back??? Why aren’t you up?

Ellinor: I’m good! Don’t go bananas.  

-- What?? What’s going on?

✓ Read 8:03am

She tosses the phone on the shelf below the row of mirrors and slips some Crest paste on her toothbrush. While she gets busy, Ellinor finally responds:

Ellinor: I got caught up at Cullen’s. Stayed the night instead of walked back. It was a long movie.

Bitch. Olivia nearly chokes on her spit and toothpaste build-up in her throat. No fucking way did she just get ‘caught up’ in a late movie. Ellinor was not a lingering sort of girl. She got in, got out, clean hands and all. Deliberate was her middle name.

-- OMG. YOU FOUND OUT HOW MANY LICKS IT TOOK TO GET TO THE CENTER OF HIS TOOTSIE POP DIDN’T YOU?!

Ellinor: I hate you

-- YOU DIIDDDDDD OH MY GOD

Ellinor: I DID NOT OKAY HE LET ME STAY OVER THAT IS ALL

Ellinor: goodbye, blocked

She does a little happy dance on her toes, her brush sticking out of her cheek. Finally! Now everything is getting good. Cullen will start coming around, and he won’t sulk so much. Ellinor will get some action -- some good, honest, emotionally fulfilled action -- and all will be well.

She finishes up with her preliminary morning hygiene and walks back into the hall. Her stomach tenses still as she remembers the flyer on her door, but to her pleasant surprise there’s nothing waiting for her – just her RA-crafted door decorations and a small collage of music lyrics made during a Hall social.

The day continues without a hitch, well, except for a rather hilarious texting conversation with the woman who said she would block her but hours earlier. Leaving class, she finds this hilarious string of texts for her to read:

Ellinor: omg he brought me coffee, but I already bought my own!! shit fuck what do I do

Ellinor: GOD IM SUCH A DUMBASS

Ellinor: it’s all good I did a lap around the first floor and chugged it. I’m good. This is fine.

Olivia smirks to herself walking down the stairs in her boot heels, and types back a kind response:

-- Man, you’re going to have a great time in the bathroom today aren’t you?

Ellinor: I plead the fifth.

She gets through all three classes and her work shift at the University Rec building teaching her midday barre classes. Amidst the many talents her parents groomed her for, dance was one of the very select few that stuck -- and fortunately for her, landed a good job once she got to college. The staff are all cool, with the exception of a few quirky, type A ballet divas.

A couple classes to teach, a shower in the locker rooms, and she’s out the door and back to her dorm. She doesn’t plan on seeing Ellinor when she stops in to get ready for her TA work session with Cassandra. She gets through flat ironing her hair to at least look semi-presentable, a fresh light face of makeup. For her outfit, she selects black yoga tights and a black bando with a see-through chiffon collared sleeveless shirt of the same color. No jewelry, no pomp. The last touch is slip-on sneakers.

By the time she’s putting her hair up in a ponytail, it’s 5:15pm. She’s been a bit eager to prepare for this. A thought occurs to her: it’s Friday evening. Dinner time. Why not do something kind of...nice? She jumps up and grabs her car keys, her backpack of work to do, phone, and wallet, throwing it all into her shoulder bag and heading out.

She drives to the nearest Safeway and picks up a couple plates of their pre-made deli sushi. When she’s at the checkout line she does that Mom thing and sets her bag on the counter to find her debit card. As she scrambles, though, she finds that there’s something missing from its contents that she had taken for granted was there. The flyer. No sign of it, as if it grew legs and escaped. Fuck.

The checkout staffer is looking at her like she’s gone rich girl bonkers, so she pulls out her plastic money and gets it over with. Where could it have gone? She gets in her car, and before she leaves the store parking lot, makes sure to cover her bases.

-- Hey, did you keep the flyer?

-- Ellinor: Nope. Gave it back.

She checks her time, and it’s 5:45. To her credit, Safeway is only a couple stoplights from campus. She might be a bit late, but not offensively so.

Henderson Hall is in fact to the left of quad. Trust issues blocked on that one. As she walks up the steps through the archway entrance, she can’t help but wonder if Cassandra is going to be there. She had not texted her all day, which, in their short time as friends was a custom. Cassandra was attentive to plans.

10E is on the ground floor, so it’s a matter of picking the right direction and following the wall signs down into a bundle of offices. Dimly lit in some spots (Friday night of course) but, one room bright as can be through the doorway facing her as she rounds the corner. She peaks in, leaning against the wall a bit where a sign says “TA Work Room.” It’s a somewhat large room, with two windows on the opposite wall and a small, brown love-seat down between them. On the right wall, shelves of books and small succulent plants.

Then, a desk with a desktop computer and a dark red vase on the corner full of...flowers? Cassandra, though. She’s there. And when it’s realized she is there, Olivia only has eyes for her.

“Hey…” she says, as if she has a secret to tell.

Cassandra looks up, having reclined back in her seat with her legs crossed, a paper in her lap that she had been reading. “Hey!” her eyes go bright and she straightens up. “I thought you got lost, or something. I was about to text you.”

“Nah,” Olivia giggles nervously. She steps into full view of the open doorway, bags in both hands. “I was just weighed down by precious cargo.”

Cassandra’s eyes bounce between both arms of stuff, but she lingers on the white Safeway bag. “Oh?”

“Yeah! I thought...well, I was just in town and I picked up some rations to sustain us as we survive the trenches.” She comes forward and sets her stuff down on a neighboring desk that is smaller and without a computer. She efficiently pulls out the four sushi plates and sets them in a line.

“I didn’t know if you liked sushi. If you don’t, I’ll happily eat it all.” She glances over at her with a cheerful smile, trying her best. But Cassandra looks uneasy for some reason. Going for broke on the charm, Olivia pivots on her dancer toes and tosses her some chopsticks -- another sudden throw that Cassandra catches successfully.

“So, take your pick. Spicy tuna, California roll, or Dragon roll…”

Cassandra grins politely, breaking the nervous facade. “Uh, Dragon, please.”

“Hm!” Olivia lifts a teasing brow, “Noted for future reference.” She grabs and hands her the plastic carton, the soy sauce bags sliding in the box as Cassandra takes it from her. Nothing. Just...manners.

“Thank you,” Cassandra says lastly, setting off the stack of midterms to the side. “You can use that desk, if you want. I can get you a chair from the lounge--”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I got it,” Olivia shrugs. She’s busy arranging her stuff around, pulling out the folders of bibliographies she’ll have to sort through and pick apart like a demon. “You’re all settled in, anyways.”

“No, it’s fine, I insist.” Cassandra gets up, as if commanded like a SIMS character, and rushes out into the hall. Olivia freezes and watches her go, the light breeze she generates carrying through the fly-away strands of her hair. Geez, okay, fine. Revive chivalry single-handedly then. When she returns, it’s not with a folding chair or one of the generic sitting ones on campus, it’s a whole computer chair, complete with rolling wheels and comfortable arm rests. It looks almost better than the one she has, and as she sets it down without breaking a sweat, it makes Olivia’s temporary desk look puny almost.

“...Thanks,” Olivia mutters with a second smile. “I feel like I should have a seat belt come with it.”

Cassandra chuckles -- but it isn’t her chuckle. It’s an anxious one, the kind Olivia gives at everything. She can spot it in another person a mile away. But, as they both sit down, she doesn’t bother to ask why.

Eating the first bites of sushi, her eyes go from her paper stacks to Cassandra’s quiet eating face so much it almost makes her dizzy.  “You tired?” she broaches, ripping open another soy sauce packet for her California roll.

Cassandra shakes her shoulder as she’s mid-bite. “Yeah, a bit. I had class, and my volunteer hours at the YMCA. You?” Shit, that’s right. She volunteers teaching sports and tutoring. Stop being perfect.

“Yeah. I taught dance today...classes...nothing out of the ordinary, though.”

Cassandra looks up, and her response is immediate. “Nothing? You sure?”

Olivia almost flinches from the sudden shift in focus, and she sits up. “...Yeah…”

“You are absolutely certain?”

Olivia’s brow goes low, and she sets her chopstick hand down on the table. “Is this where you tell me I’m in that movie 50 First Dates and you’ve been having me bring you sushi every day for years?”

Cassandra purses her lips and looks down, a hint of blush in her cheeks. She then keeps eating, like the conversation suddenly doesn’t matter. Olivia wants to damn-near pick a fight, if it means getting responses and energy out of her. Exam grading or not, she’s acting funny. There’s no subtle confidence, no consideration and insightful look in her.

A couple hours pass, and the sushi has long-been eaten and tossed back in the bag it all came in. Olivia has gotten her elbows in deep with grading, about 1/2 of the way done with bibliographies. They are understandably messy and riddled with errors, of which she outlines every single one with blue pen -- a more relaxing color than the quintessential red. Cassandra is hard at work too, as is her style. She’s returned to sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed, paper in one hand and pen in the other, which she is clicking with her thumb every minute or two. At times, Olivia feels eyes on her, but she keeps focused. If Cassandra wants to say something, she says it.

At almost 8:30pm Olivia’s phone dings, and she glances over. She sees Ellinor’s name, but before she can read the message, Cassandra speaks.

“Olivia, I…”

She perks up. “Yeah?”

Cassandra is locked on her, end of her pen held close to her mouth. It almost takes what little breath she has away, the smartness of her. Her dark blue, long-sleeve sweater french-tucked into her black jeans with a slim belt on. Her somewhat narrow but toned shoulders hunched up a bit against the chair. Her tucked chin, emphasizing her keen but slightly-softened stare.

“...W-What’s up?” she looks from side-to-side, like a trap door is about to go off.

“I…” Cassandra pulls the staples pages back in order on the paper she’s on and tosses it onto the table. “I was wondering if...you were planning on telling me anything. Anything important.”

“Uh...no.”

“See…” Cassandra clicks her pen a couple times, her hands going to her lap, “I disagree.”

“You disagree?” Olivia sits back in her chair, elbows going to her armrests. “What does that mean?”

“It means I think you do have something to tell me. Or rather, should.”

“You’re right.”

Cassandra blinks, her face one of ‘oh, it was that easy?’ but things are never that easy with Olivia. She should know better than most anyone.

“Yeah. I lied when I said I preferred twizzlers. Red vines are better. I just didn’t want to partake in the discourse.”

Cassandra lays her head back, her eyes going up to the ceiling as she huffs out her nose. “Ugh, good God, I mean the flyer. The Church flyer with the writing on it!”

Olivia drops her pen and rolls back from the desk. Her vision blurs for a minute as she looks to the ground. It’s her worst nightmare realized: now it’s going to be a thing, a thing she can’t just control all by herself.

“Oh. That flyer,” she mutters, pulling her knees into her lap as she rolls her chair around to face her.  “H-how did you find out?”

Cassandra sighs, rubbing the side of her head. Giving into the talk, she sets her own pen down, and stands up to go to the door. She shuts it quietly, as if anyone would be lurking around the office at 8:30pm hoping to pick up on this sweet gossip. She comes back to her seat and leans forward onto her desk with her forearms.  

“Cullen. Apparently, you had dropped it in the library when you ran into him. He found it on the floor after you had left. He thought you’d be planning on saying something anyways.”

Cullen. That Golden Retriever-looking, best-intentions-having, Sulky-dude-bro-when-he’s-hammered, nice-guy-who-tries, shagging-her-best-friend son of a--

“Right.” She chews down on the inside of her cheek and rubs the rim of her mouth with her hands.

“I waited...for you to tell me on your own. I didn’t want it to be like this, but you seem to have had no plan to tell me even though it clearly has something to do wi--”

“With what, Cassandra?” she bites back, looking up and locking an acidic stare with her compassionate one. Silence. Awkward silence.

“...With me. I was going to say with me.” She goes sort of breathless at the end, but it’s too soft and fleeting for Olivia to care.

“That’s bold of you to assume. You clearly don’t know anything about what I’ve been through when it comes to bullying on account of my explicit behaviors.” She squirms a bit in her chair and holds her knees tighter against her chest.

“Whose fault is that? Agh,” Cassandra says bluntly while watching her, “you really should file a report. There are conduct rules for a reason, and this is at the very least sexual harassment. I looked it--”

“You looked it up?!” Olivia’s eyes go wide. “Jesus, why don’t you just file it for me then, since you seem to have it all figured out! Waiting for me to tell you, what the fuck, am I twelve or something?” She jumps up from her chair, no longer satisfied with being her equal. She goes for the couch, taking her phone with her as she lands on the corner cushion, tucking one leg under her.

“I was just--” Cassandra tries to respond before Olivia makes her move but is cut off. When Olivia sits, she resumes. “I was just trying to help. You shouldn’t have to fear going to your dorm at the end of the day or walking to classes.”

“Who says I fear any of those things?”

“So, you’re saying you are completely unmoved by this? That you see no problem with people calling you something so horrible?”

Olivia’s sharp mind goes into full debate mode. “There’s nothing wrong with being a slut, Cassandra, if it is someone’s choice to identify as such. The people who do shit like this prefer it to not be that way, so they can use it against people as an exertion of power.”

Cassandra’s eyes go a bit cold, but she remains partial to Olivia’s struggle. Clumsy, but partial. “Is...is that how you want to be treated, by a complete stranger just…invading your privacy? Olivia…” she then stands up and comes over to the couch, sitting a foot away from her. Her knees are parted broadly, but straight. Straight, straight, straight.

“What?” Olivia mumbles back, rubbing her face with her hands. “I’m not going to make this a big deal. Nothing’s happened since. It was probably just someone having a wild thought to do something horrible. That happens every day, right?”

Cassandra’s brows push together. “I’d really prefer if you told someone. For your safety.”

Olivia shakes her head. “My safety? You know what gets me about this? That you likely know who did this...or rub elbows with them. That you probably see them and talk to them in passing on Sunday and yet you think I should alert the authorities because I’m unsafe. What is that supposed to tell me of the company you keep?” She talks a big talk, but she doesn’t look at her. She keeps her gaze on her own lap, and lets the silence take hold. Then, out of nowhere, the confidence she is so tempted by returns in a cool, flat voice:

“Do you honestly think if I had any inkling as to who, I would just sit by and let you fend for yourself like I have no responsibility at all in this?” She’s outraged and foreboding in her temper. God only knows what she looked like when Cullen handed her the paper. Olivia only has the bravery to stare back at her and is humbled by the intensity. “I only hope that...that despite this...”

“What?” Olivia replies softly, but in vain. Cassandra merely sucks on her teeth. 

“Do you...” she says after a pause, “regret coming to the Church to see me?” It is a subtly heartbreaking question coming from her.

Olivia rolls around and sits with her knees bunched up again like they were in her chair, with her lower back against the side of the love seat arm rest. “I don’t. Do you regret inviting me?

Cassandra doesn’t waste a moment, before she peers at her, chin raised. “Absolutely not.”

“I do have a regret about how I acted there, though.” Up against a proverbial wall.

Cassandra’s eyes narrow a bit uneven, her head tilted. “What? How so?”

“I...” Suddenly, an impulse bares down on her, and she scoots up onto her folded knees. In a push of inertia she resolves distance between them but stops, sitting at her side, knees against the side of her thigh. 

Cassandra’s eyes go wide, but not too wide. Not surprised, but on notice. When Olivia gets that far with no objection she isn’t quite sure what to do. That’s the thing about impulses -- they didn’t come with a manual. But she wings it some more, and starts slowly leaning her face into hers. She reaches a hand and presses her palm gently against Cassandra’s cheek, guiding her to look at her head on as she closes in. She gets so close that when Cassandra’s lips part she can feel the edges of her warm breath. The brightness of the fluorescent office lighting goes dim and fades away, and Olivia’s heart is beating out of her chest. She wants that sign so bad, she wants something -- anything to give her vindication for wanting to hold onto her so closely despite all the writing on the wall telling her they’re mismatched. Cassandra’s lids flutter down, and she is frozen in place like a statue. 

Then, a hand. A hand on Olivia’s shoulder, stopping her advance with care. Olivia opens her eyes fully, and looks into hers. Seeing the shade of them, she falls back onto her folded legs.

“Olivia, I...”

“You...you don’t...”

Cassandra’s mouth opens, and she frowns, taking her hand away. “It’s not... It’s...complicated. I can ex--”

“Complicated.”

“...Yes. But...look, I’m not that good with words. But I can explain. I just...I want...”  She exhales with tension breaking her tone, her posture stiffening.

It’s no longer just Olivia’s worst nightmare realized. It’s her worst nightmare, having a worst nightmare. 

“I...I gotta go.” If she doesn’t get out of that room in a minute she’s going to crawl out of her skin. She slides herself off the couch and walks back to her work, getting to it fast with the clean-up. She tries her best not to care what Cassandra does in the meantime. If she can get out fast, it won’t sink in under her skin, like everything else Her looks, her grin, the smell of Old Spice Wolfthorn she swears is there but can’t ever bring herself to decide.

“Wait.” She glances, and sees that Cassandra stood up, but hasn’t moved from her spot otherwise.

“No. I said I couldn’t stay long. I really...I should have left a bit earlier. I have a thing…”

“You...are you--”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she shoves folders into her bag, zipping everything up with rigor. She slings the backpack on her shoulder and takes her other into her hand, grabbing for the Safeway plastic to dump out on the way. She turns around and stops, her mouth open, but no words. Cassandra has drawn closer, standing only a couple feet away now.

“Liv, I’m sorry.” Liv. She hardly ever uses her nickname. It’s always a polite, slightly formal ‘Olivia,’ even though she has made it clear time and time again ‘Liv’ is perfectly alright. Only now does she use it, and it hurts a bit. She really cares.

Olivia grins crookedly, and it pains her to do so. “No, it’s...it’s fine. I’m not mad.”

Cassandra’s expression says stop lying to me, please, but her mouth says the opposite. It gnaws at her heart. “Do...do you want me to walk you back?”

“I’ll be alright. It’s only a few minutes’ walk. Look, maybe we should, you know, take a breather. From hanging out, I mean. Just for a while. I feel like...like it’s just...” like I don’t know what you want from me.

Cassandra’s eyes narrow, in that sad kind of creasing way, and she frowns. That frown. “No, I understand. It is a busy time of the semester for me, anyway. I won’t be available much, and I don’t think you’ll be, either. Maybe, given what’s happened, it would be best for you.”

“...Yeah.” Olivia could have a whole ledger of things that people had said were ‘best for her’ over the course of her short life. But when Cassandra says it, all she can think is that being distanced from her felt like the antithesis of ‘best.’

There could be more words, but there aren’t. Cassandra nods, her hands together in front of her waist. She’s pressing on the skin above her thumb, on the side of her palm. She does that other times, and Olivia’s seen it. But only now does she see it’s a thing she does when things aren’t going well. She smiles and says thanks and heads out. The whole way her feet feel like bricks are tethered Even when she gets into her dorm, messes with keys and gets herself into her room. Turn back, go back, do it.

After dumping everything on the floor, she takes off her shirt and wipes off her makeup, before jumping on her bed to lay flat on her back. A few minutes of anxious staring up at the popcorn ceiling, and the demand to go back calms down.

Like an old, thoughtless habit already built in her psyche, she checks her phone for a ‘hope you got back safe, have a good night’ kind of message, but there’s nothing. Ironically, she wishes there is. The last messages on their thread are about the song recommendation. Fine, fuck, what could it hurt? What’s it gonna be, something about life lessons?

She pulls up her Spotify and finds her headphones -- a habit that’s foolish since she’s in her room all alone, but after the argument she instinctively clings to privacy. The song starts out with a slight upbeat rhythm, completely benign-sounding. But, then...she really listens, and the chorus hits --

If you're gonna let me down, let me down gently

Don't pretend that you don't want me

Our love ain't water under the bridge...

Nearing the end of the song she had preemptively mocked in her thoughts, her emotions she had done such a great job of suppressing are bursting at the seams. She goes from sprawled to curled in the fetal position in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t a clean escape.

But they are friends. It’s cut and dry. She should have seen this all coming. Girls like Cassandra and girls like her don’t do well together. Nothing about them says “promising,” just…just…

Knock, knock, knock.

“Olivia! You in? How was it?!”

It’s Ellinor. For some reason it only breaks Olivia’s heart more. She drags herself up off her blankets and to the door. Opening it and seeing her friend, in jeans and an old t-shirt, beautifully hardcore as ever, she sees that for all that Ellinor has to glow about, she, herself cannot relate.

“There you are! I want details, woman! And--”

Olivia can’t hold it back any longer. She bursts into tears, holding her phone to her mouth. Her headphones are still in, but the music has stopped playing.

“Shit, what happened?!” Ellinor’s face drops, and she holds her arms out. Olivia only shakes her head and steps into her embrace, pressing her head into her shoulder. Ellinor grabs her phone from her and checks the screen.

“I’m gonna kill her if she--Oh dear God, Adele?! Olivia, what have we discussed about listening to Adele so close to our cycles?!” she says as she holds her.

Olivia cries harder, her voice shrill but muffled into her shirt.”I-I fucked u-up...”

“Okay! Okay,” Ellinor responds quickly, “uh, okay, let’s...let’s finish that ice cream you have, alright?”

[fallforcs]

Hayrides, Fate, and Fortune Cookies

Art by @imagnifika 

Author: @searchingwardrobes

Hayrides, Fate, and Fortune Cookies

Summary: “Wow, you’re hot, but I’m pretty sure that’s your wife.” + “You are incredibly hot, and I keep falling in your lap on this hayride. I swear I’m not doing it on purpose. Wow, this is awkward!”

Rating: G for fall fluff. Like the fanfic equivalent of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon.

Trigger warnings: None unless you count the possibility of getting a toothache from the fluff :)         

A huge thank you to my beta, @looselipswontsinkships . She was swamped with school, yet still managed to look this story over and catch my silly mistakes. Also a shout out to my artist. I had this idea in my head of a beautiful fall aesthetic for my story (which I could never make myself), and look what I got! It’s not only gorgeous but exactly what I was hoping for.

I absolutely adore fall, so I hope you all enjoy this little Captain Swan autumn one shot …

When she woke up that morning, Emma Swan would have never believed that the day would start with a hayride and end with fortune cookies. Of course, she had promised three year old Henry that she would take him to the pumpkin patch in the little coastal town of Storybrooke, Main. The one that all the mom blogs in Portland rated the best pumpkin patch in the area. Peter’s Pumpkins and Pies. In Storybrooke . Ah, she got it. Cute and clever. Or something.

There was so little that she, as an overworked, underpaid single mother, could give to her tiny son. She could at least give him this. She could take pictures of Henry in his cute fall jacket amidst the bright orange pumpkins and post them on Instagram, just like all the other moms.

But then she had awakened to a cold drizzle outside the window and a leaden gray sky. She gently told Henry the weather was just too nasty for the pumpkin patch. Then Henry had dissolved into a puddle of tears on the kitchen floor. Now, Emma wasn’t one of those moms who was ruled by some kind of toddler tyrant. But the thing was, Henry wasn’t that kind of kid. Sure, he had colic the first four months of his life, but it was as if he’d spent all his tears in that brief space of time (though it hadn’t felt brief when she was in the middle of it.) But now Henry was a complacent, easy to please child. His tears that morning were more of the “my little heart is breaking” variety rather than the “I’m going to scream until I get my way” variety.

Emma’s heart broke a little bit too. She was supposed to feel like she didn’t suck at this mom thing for once. So she bundled Henry up in his waterproof jacket with the flannel lining and put his Spiderman boots on his little feet, and prayed the rain would taper off during the 45 minute drive.

For once, Emma’s prayers to anyone up there who would listen were actually answered because by the time she parked in the open field next to Peter’s Pumpkins and Pies, the rain had stopped. However, their feet still made loud squelching sounds as they walked across the soaked grass, and Emma was glad for the rain boots they both wore. The sky was still gray, and the wind that lashed their faces still held a hint of dampness. It also brought the smell of wet, dirty fur downwind from the petting zoo. Not the most pleasant aroma. Emma would have to make sure Henry didn’t notice the barnyard where they kept the animals. The last things she wanted to do was wade through the mud to pet wet, smelly sheep and goats.

“Two please,” Emma said when she reached the ticket booth.

“That’ll be twenty-four dollars,” the plump, cheery woman behind the counter told her.

Emma’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Tw-twenty f-four dollars?” she stuttered incredulously.

“That’s right, tickets are twelve dollars a person,” the woman explained, her smile not wavering in the least at Emma’s reaction.

“But, he’s only three,” Emma said, gesturing down to Henry, “does he get in free?”

The woman peered at Henry over the edge of the booth and shrugged apologetically at Emma. “Only guests two and under are free.”

Emma let out a long breath. “A child’s ticket?” she asked hopefully.

“That is the child’s price,” the woman clarified, pointing to a bright sign decorated in fall leaves that announced: Adult Admission at Child’s Price! This weekend only! “Adult tickets are normally sixteen dollars.”

Emma bit her lip as she fished the money out of her pocket. She had promised Henry, but there went pizza for tonight. She guessed it was bologna sandwiches again.

The good thing about the rain was that the crowd was thin. Emma figured that the weather was a blessing in disguise since the weekend’s special deal usually made it a crowded one. Emma was also relieved to see that the petting zoo was down the hill and out of sight of her enthusiastic three year old. Henry was bouncing up and down and swinging their joined hands back and forth.

“What do you want to do first, Henry?” Emma asked, the sight of her son’s joy causing everything else - the weather, the mud, the smells, and the expensive cost of admission - to be pushed far from her mind. “There’s a corn maze, a story barn, a hay ride … oooh, look you can paint your own little pumpkin!”

Emma was relieved to see that everything, including the mini pumpkins to paint, were included in the price of admission. The only thing they would have to pay for was a large pumpkin to take home and carve and maybe a pie. (Okay, she was definitely getting a pie. If pizza was out, she was at least getting a dessert out of all this.)

The next hay ride wasn’t for another fifteen minutes, so they decided to go the story barn where an enthusiastic teenager in overalls and braids was getting ready to read a picture book to the children gathering around on huge logs. Emma grimaced when they took a seat; the logs had apparently soaked up all the rain. Henry scrambled up to stand on top of the log so he could see better over the gathering crowd.

“Henry care-“ the words had barely left Emma’s mouth when Henry’s left Spiderman boot slid out from under him. He pitched backwards, arms pinwheeling in empty air. Emma reached out to grab him, but another set of hands caught him first. “Oh my God, thank you! I –“

Emma’s words failed her then as she looked up into an unfairly attractive face. The man had lustrous dark hair, a finely chiseled jaw covered in delicious looking scruff, and the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. The eyes were what left her speechless. Then he smiled. A charming, somewhat rakish smile, and then Emma felt herself go hot. She blinked, trying to rouse herself from this stupor. She never let men affect her this way. Ever.

“Be careful there, lad,” he chuckled as he swung Henry up.

He had a British accent, too. Great. If he wasn’t a solid ten before, he sure was now. And he was fit too she could now see as he deposited Henry gently back onto the log (in a seated position this time). His tight jeans, black leather jacket, and gray t-shirt beneath put his toned physique on clear display. The v-neck of the shirt also showed off dark chest hair that made Emma’s throat go dry. He winked at her as he took his seat again on the log behind them.

“Swing me up too!” the little girl next to him squealed. She was an adorable thing with big blonde curls and huge blue eyes that were the same shade as Henry’s rescuer. The man caved immediately to the little girl’s request, and she giggled in delight as he scooped her up and swooped her around in an arc.

“Put her down, Killian!” a woman admonished, though her words had little heat. “The show’s about to start, and you’re blocking everyone’s view!”

The man – Killian, apparently – obeyed the woman’s request immediately, settling the little girl on his knee. It was then that Emma noticed the wedding band glinting in the sun on his left hand. Emma’s heart immediately sank. Sure enough, the woman beside him also had a wedding band with a sparkling diamond solitaire nestled above it. Emma wondered how those rings could sparkle so much on a cloudy day. They must be mocking her.

Emma turned away, putting her arm around Henry to pull him closer as story time began. It was about a misfit pumpkin who was square instead of round, though Emma had a hard time following the plot. She was far too aware of the handsome stranger behind her, and she had to force herself not to glance behind her. He’s with his wife she kept admonishing herself.

The enthusiastic storyteller had Henry giggling in all the right places. She finished up the story with a bow, informing everyone that another hayride was about to leave from the wooden gate directly behind them. It was insane how fast the mob headed in that direction, and Emma held tight to Henry’s hand. They were jostled by overeager children and parents who acted as if this were a ride at Disneyland instead of a flatbed piled with hay. A large man with an ample midsection shoved Emma from behind, propelling her right into … married hottie.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. To make matters worse, her next step sent her sliding through a slick patch of mud, and the stranger had to grasp her by both arms to keep her from falling.

“No harm, love,” he assured as he helped her find her footing again.

“Mommy, hu-wee!” Henry piped up, yanking on her hand.

She shook her head to clear it and saw that the hayride was almost full. She mumbled a thank you to the blue-eyed Brit and hurried after her son. The man’s wife and daughter were already climbing the steps into the hay bed, and he hurried past Emma to assist them. Emma took the opportunity to really look at the woman. She moved with elegance, even when taking her husband’s hand to climb aboard the flatbed. Her light blonde hair was in a fishtail braid that rested over her shoulder. She smiled at the little girl as her husband swung the child up, tickling her as she settled into her mother’s lap. It was a picture of domestic bliss framed with the wooden fence and the trees above covered in red and orange leaves like the covers of those parenting magazines that littered the waiting room at the health department. But she could at least scoff at those, knowing they were fake families made of perfect models. This scene was like salt rubbed right where it would hurt most.

Emma brushed off the melancholy thoughts as she helped Henry up into the hay. She had never been so keenly aware of how scuffed his boots were, how faded his little thrift store jacket. Did everyone on this hayride look at the two of them and feel pity? Or worse, judgment? Emma bit her lip, wondering why the handsome man and his picture perfect family were bothering her so much. She grasped the sides of the flatbed and pulled herself up. She and Henry were the last two on, and the hay was packed with people. Emma hesitated, glancing around for an open spot. Impatient, Henry began to whine and cling to her leg. His weight, combined with the uneven bed of hay and the slight tilt of the vehicle on the rutted trail, sent Emma pitching sideways. She fell into another person, both of them grunting with the impact. Emma braced herself against a strong pair of shoulders and looked up into the shocked blue eyes of the same handsome – unavailable – man as before. What did his wife call him again? Oh right …Killian.

To Emma’s shock, his wife actually laughed as Emma stammered an apology. She had literally fallen into the man’s lap, and her legs were tangled up with his. A blush colored his own cheeks as he grinned at her.

“We’ve got to quit meeting this way,” he teased.

“Stop flirting and let the poor woman go,” his wife admonished with a light slap to his shoulder.

She was either really secure in their relationship, or she was really used to women falling all over her husband. Probably the latter, though most women probably didn’t do it as literally as Emma just had. Emma scooted quickly out of his lap, but still didn’t see a spot for her and Henry. It felt like everyone on the hayride was staring at her.

“Here love,” Killian said, scooting over closer to his wife and slinging his arm over her shoulder, “you and your boy can squeeze in here.”

Emma mumbled a thank you yet again – when had her tongue swollen to twice its size? – and wedged herself between Killian and the back gate of the flatbed. She got Henry situated on her lap just as the tractor lurched forward. She grabbed onto the metal grate next to her to steady herself.

“Killian Jones,” the man at her side officially introduced himself, offering his hand.

“Emma Swan,” she replied, shaking it.

“Elsa Jones,” the other woman said, leaning over Killian to offer her hand to shake as well. The last name snuffed out the tiny flicker of hope that had remained in Emma’s heart. So they were married. “And this,” Elsa Jones added, tickling the little girl in her own lap, “is Bethany.”

“Nice to meet you, Bethany,” Emma told the little girl, “how old are you?”

“Thwee,” the child answered, struggling to hold up the requisite number of fingers.

“What do you know?” Emma said to Henry enthusiastically. “You’re three too, Henry. Say hello to Bethany.”

“Hello,” Henry muttered as if it pained him to do so, then turned his face to bury it in his mother’s chest.

Emma frowned. “What’s up with you, kid? You’re never shy.”

Killian leaned towards her conspiratorially. “Maybe he just has a thing for blondes.”

He waggled his eyes, and Emma wondered what his angle was. Maybe he was referring to his wife? Then again, he had also winked at Emma earlier. The guy’s handsome looks suddenly weren’t affecting her quite the same way. What kind of jerk flirted with another woman right in front of his wife?

Emma pressed her lips together as she purposefully looked away from him. Come on, Emma, a part of her argued, maybe he’s just friendly and doesn’t realize how it comes across. But another part of her argued back that the male gender hadn’t exactly proven itself trustworthy throughout her life. Most were scumbags, weren’t they?

The hay ride took them past a field of cows and another of beautiful horses. Emma and Elsa both chatted with the children about the animals, asking what sounds they made. Elsa laughed and chatted with Emma about the things mothers usually do; the struggles of potty training, the annoying kid shows with songs that get stuck in your head, the infernal stubbornness of three year olds. Emma found it odd that she didn’t include her husband in the parenting equation, and even more strange that he didn’t put in his own antidotes. The cracks were showing in this supposedly perfect little family, but it strangely didn’t bring Emma any satisfaction.

The hayride was incredibly bumpy because of all the rain, much to Emma’s chagrin because she kept falling against the rock-hard chest of the man sitting next to her. The more it happened, the more irritated Emma became and the more apologetic Killian became.

Next they passed a field of pumpkins where families ambled amongst the orange gourds, searching for the perfect one. The children both exclaimed with delight, asking when they would get to choose their own pumpkin. Bethany tugged on her father’s arm, pointing excitedly.

“I see, starfish, pumpkins!” he chuckled, brushing a kiss against her curls.

Emma blinked, her heart playing ping pong with her brain. Who was this guy? Flirtatious jerk? Inattentive husband? Doting father? Emma couldn’t tell.

As they rounded the pumpkin patch, the tractor hit a deep rut and then slid in the mud. For one terrifying moment, the entire thing pitched sideways and everyone on board screamed. The driver corrected, guiding them back onto steady ground with a huge bump. The bump sent Emma careening sideways, and she ended up draped across the chest of Killian Jones, her arms encircling his neck.

She reacted more quickly this time, her “I’m so, so, SO sorry!” now directed at Elsa. The woman, amazingly, still didn’t seem fazed. As a matter of fact, the smile on her face and the light in her eyes almost seemed … delighted?

Emma didn’t want to waste one more minute trying to figure out this little family. As soon as the driver opened the gate, Emma scrambled down from the hayride, balancing Henry on her hip. Her son, however, wasn’t cooperating with her attempt at a quick getaway. At some point during the hay ride, Bethany had apparently become his new best friend. She squealed and grabbed his hand as soon as her family climbed down.

“We wanna do the maze!” Bethany shouted.

“The maze! The maze!” Henry echoed her, jumping up and down.

Then the two of them were off like a shot towards the nearby field of tall corn.

“Don’t get too far ahead!” Elsa shouted after them.

“You’ll get lost in there, Henry!” Emma called out as she and her new friend jogged down the hill after them.

“I’ve got them!” Killian assured, passing them with his longer strides. He grabbed up both kids easily, one in each arm, and they both giggled with delight. He turned towards Emma and Elsa with a wink then set the kids down at the entrance to the maze marked “easy.”

Elsa and Emma slowed their pace, following Killian and the children into the maze. Elsa gave her an almost mischievous smile before leaning over to speak to her in a low voice.

“I think he likes you.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide as saucers and her mouth hung open at the other woman’s words. She glanced over at Killian, then back to Elsa, then blinked rapidly. “He, you mean Killian? As in your … your … husband?” She practically whispered the last word.

Elsa’s eyebrows flew to her hairline before she tilted her head back and let out a long, hearty laugh. Emma narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, failing to see why being invited into some weird open marriage scenario was so hilarious to this woman.

“Oh my God, no!” Elsa laughed, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “I guess I can see how you thought that. We should have been clearer when we introduced ourselves. Killian’s my brother-in-law .”

“Ohhh …” Emma said, trailing off, feeling like she’d just gotten mental whiplash, “but he is married. I saw the ring.”

The smile fell from Elsa’s face as she shook her head, “I’ve told him so many times to take that ring off. He says he can’t bear to, but I think it’s sort of a way to protect his heart, you know? Women assume, like you did, so they stay away.”

Emma tilted her head as her gaze landed on Killian again. He grabbed Bethany before she could dash off in the opposite direction from Henry, tickling her as he tossed her over his shoulder.

“What happened to his wife?”

Elsa sighed. “It was a brain tumor. By the time they found it, the cancer was too advanced. He only had Milah for about four months after the diagnosis. That was four years ago.”

Emma groaned and covered her face with her hands, “God, I feel horrible now.”

Elsa chuckled. “I understand now why you got a little prickly back there. You thought my husband was hitting on you.” She laughed again as if being married to Killian was the funniest, most preposterous scenario. “I mean, he’s a great guy, but he and Liam – my husband – couldn’t be more different. I guess steady and serious is more my type.”

They walked in silence for a moment. They could no longer see Killian or the kids, but they could hear the children’s giggles around the corner and followed the sound.

“Liam is in the navy,” Elsa explained, “and when he was deployed eight months ago, Killian moved here to help with Bethany.”

“Wow,” Emma said, feeling even worse about the assumptions she had made, “that’s a rare guy.”

“Yeah,” Elsa agreed, “that’s why I want to see him move on from his grief.” She stopped and turned to Emma with an earnest expression. “That’s why I was so happy the second he winked at you back at the story barn. I haven’t seen him flirt with a woman that way in so long. And he blushed ten shades of red when you landed in his lap.”

Emma groaned. “Twice. I landed in his lap twice.”

Elsa nudged her shoulder. “Maybe it was fate giving you a little push.”

The “easy” corn maze took far longer than Emma would have expected, and they were all hot, sweaty, and hungry by the time they found their way out. The clouds had rolled away, revealing a bright blue sky, and the temperature had risen with it. Henry had shed his jacket long ago, leaving Emma to lug it around along with her own.

“Why do people think these things are fun?” Emma quipped as they exited the corn field, and Elsa and Killian both laughed in agreement.

“And that was the easy one!” Elsa said with a shake of her head.

“Let’s get some food into these little ones, shall we?” Killian asked, gesturing to a food truck that had been parked along the tree line with wooden picnic benches set up in front of it.

“The little ones?” Emma laughed. “ I’m starving.”

“Uh, why don’t I take the kids and get us a table?” Elsa suggested. “And you two go get the food?”

Emma had only just met the woman, but she was no fool. She noticed the slight tilt of Elsa’s head in Killian’s direction as she locked eyes with Emma. Then she was corralling the kids towards the tables, assuming the other two adults would follow her orders.

“How she and my brother don’t fight twenty four seven is beyond me,” Killian commented with a shake of his head. “They both like bossing people around.”

Emma laughed as they made their way to the food truck. When they joined the long line of people waiting to order, she cleared her throat nervously and shuffled her feet.

“I owe you an apology,” she finally blurted out.

Killian’s brow furrowed. “Miss Swan, you really need to stop apologizing. It was crowded and bumpy –“

She waved her hand to stop him. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about … .” she searched for the right words and finally settled on the one Elsa had used earlier, “being prickly.”

He cocked his head at her. “Prickly?”

She let out a long breath. “I was sort of rude. I … I thought you and Elsa were married.”

He gave a small chuckle but didn’t dissolve into laughter as Elsa hand. Instead he lifted his left hand and fiddled with the ring resting there. “I can’t fault you for being confused, love. And if you were right, I would definitely be worthy of your cold shoulder.”

“Are you always so eloquent?” Emma asked, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

He laughed and scratched behind his ear. “So I’ve been told.”

“So I’m forgiven?”

His smile broadened. “Of course.”

They shuffled forward in the slow moving line, and Emma gazed across the field where Elsa sat at a picnic table. Henry was chasing Bethany in circles nearby.

“Elsa explained it all to me,” she told him quietly.

“About why I’m tagging along with their little family or why I’m still wearing a wedding ring?” he asked bluntly.

Emma shrugged. “Both.”

He nodded, staring down at the ring and twirling it around his finger. “It was hard for me to be around them at first. I know it hurt Liam; he was so excited when Bethany was born. But all it did was remind me of what I had lost.” He looked up and met Emma’s gaze. “Milah was pregnant when they found the tumor. Our child and Bethany would have been about the same age.”

Emma frowned as her heart sank. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He released a sigh as he rubbed his chin. “But it was wrong of me to stay away. I see that now. When Liam shipped out, I was going nowhere, doing nothing with my life. The least I could do was be here for my family when they needed me. Being around Bethany has been the best medicine for my soul, you know? I love that little starfish with all I have.”

Emma smiled. “Kids can do that. Henry is the only good thing to come from a very painful time in my life.”

Killian frowned. “I’m sorry, Emma. Is his father in his life at all?”

Emma shook her head. “No. He doesn’t deserve to be. Let’s just say he took advantage of me, then left me.” She pressed her lips together, hoping Killian didn’t ask for more of the story. She was shocked she had told him that much.

He reached down and gently took her hand. “He must be the world’s biggest idiot, then,” he told her softly, giving her fingers a tiny squeeze.

Emma felt a blush stain her cheeks even as she rolled her eyes. “Smooth.”

Killian wiggled his eyebrows. “It was rather, wasn’t it?” he quipped, making her laugh.

By that point, they had reached the truck. Emma looked over the menu, which was filled with typical country fair type refreshments: funnel cakes, corn dogs, French fries, and candy apples. Emma’s heart sank as she looked at the inflated prices, imagining the tiny wad of cash remaining in the front pocket of her jeans.

“It’s on me, Swan,” Killian said as he stepped up to the window, pulling his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Anything you and your boy would like.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Emma protested.

He smiled gently at her. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

Emma hated charity, but the way Killian spoke so sincerely, the way his gaze rested warmly on her, it didn’t feel like charity at all. She gave a simple nod, then gave the employee in the window her order. They made their way back to Elsa and the kids laden down with five corn dogs, four orders of fries, an order of onion rings, and five cans of soda. Killian helped her hand everything out, and they all sat down. Elsa and Emma went to work immediately cutting the kids’ corn dogs into bite size pieces.

“Onion rings, not fries,” Killian pointed out before taking a sip of his drink, “I’ll file that information away, love.”

Emma shook her head, hating the way he could so easily make her blush as she concentrated on Henry’s corn dog. She cleared her throat. “Who says you’ll need it?”

He arched one brow and smirked. “A man can hope.”

Elsa smiled delightedly at the pair of them, no doubt praising herself for her matchmaking skills.

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

After eating, the kids wanted to go to the pumpkin painting booth. Each child got a complimentary tiny pumpkin to paint. Being typical three year olds, both children were too stubborn to let Elsa or Emma assist them. Little Bethany poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she carefully dabbed blue and yellow polka dots all over her pumpkin. Her circles were blotchy and misshapen, but for three, it was extremely impressive. Henry, on the other hand, insisted on covering his pumpkin sloppily in every color available.

“She’s really good at this,” Emma commented, gesturing to Bethany’s handiwork.

Elsa grinned and elbowed Killian in the ribs. “It’s in her genes, isn’t it?”

“You’re an artist?” Emma asked as Killian scratched behind his ear. She was beginning to wonder if it was a nervous tic of his.

“I dabble,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Dabble?” Elsa snorted with a roll of her eyes. Then she looked at Emma and explained, “he’s a graphic artist.”

“Well,” Killian explained, gesturing to the table before them, “I was referring to the paint. I dabble with painting. The computer stuff is my job. But drawing and painting? That’s my hobby.”

Emma smiled with appreciation at him, then frowned down at Henry’s pumpkin. The colors had all mixed together into a nasty brown. “Well, I can’t say there are any artistic genes in my family.”

Henry turned with a broad grin to show off his pumpkin, and Killian hid a laugh behind his hand. Emma shrugged as she praised Henry’s effort. Oh well, maybe her kid would have other talents, right?

The employees manning the booth lined up all the pumpkins to dry on a shelf behind them, jotting the kids’ names on paper towels. They were informed that they could pick up the dried projects on their way out in about half an hour, so the five of them headed for the pumpkin patch.

“We’re avoiding the petting zoo,” Elsa whispered in Emma’s ear conspiratorially.

“Oh, I’m with you on that one,” Emma whispered back.

“I mean, it rained this morning,” Elsa continued, wrinkling her nose, “do you know how bad those animals are going to smell?”

Emma laughed, “I know, right?”

She remembered reading Anne of Green Gables as a kid. Tried to read it, anyway. The librarian at her middle school thought it would be perfect for Emma; the story of an unwanted orphan finding an unlikely family. The librarian was wrong. Emma Swan had never met a Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, had never been as optimistic as Anne Shirley, and she had certainly never had any friends who were “kindred spirits.” But now, here with Elsa? She was re-thinking the possibility of such things.

The kids raced through the rows of pumpkins, thumping them with their hands like giant drums. Elsa chose a medium sized pumpkin to make a pie, tucking it under her arm. Emma just stood there, looking up and down the rows with a frown on her face.

“Something wrong, love?” Killian asked.

Emma shrugged with a wry laugh. “Never been to a pumpkin patch before. I’ve always just gotten them at the grocery store.”

Killian nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The first time I ever went was with Milah after we’d been married about a year.” He pushed a pumpkin idly with his toe before meeting her gaze. “Not many foster parents take the time you know. Never even carved a pumpkin until Liam and I were on our own.”

Emma blinked, shocked to recognize the shame in his eyes. “Foster parents?”

Killian nodded. “Mum died when I was so young, I don’t remember her. Papa just up and left. So …”

Emma bit her lip. “Similar story,” she admitted, “I guess. Thing is, I don’t even know who my parents were or why they abandoned me.”

They were quiet for a long moment, and Emma was relieved to see only understanding, not pity in Killian’s eyes. Then he gave her a soft smile and reached out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Well Swan, you never forget your first,” he told her with a smirk.

Emma gaped. “Excuse me?”

He laughed. “First pumpkin that is.”

Emma rolled her eyes and smacked him in the shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“You think I’m cute, admit it,” he teased, sauntering into her personal space.

Emma swallowed hard as she tilted her head to look up at him. The sun overhead sparkled in his blue eyes and his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Are you two ever going to pick a pumpkin, or are you just going to keep flirting?”

Elsa’s voice snapped them both out of it, and Killian rushed over to hoist the large carving pumpkin that his sister-in-law was attempting to juggle with the pie pumpkin. Killian turned back to Emma, his expression looking a bit bashful as his tongue swiped across his lower lip nervously.

“We’re having a get together tonight,” Killian began, “for Elsa’s sister’s birthday. It’s real casual; just ordering some Chinese and then having a bonfire. We … we would love to have you. And Henry, of course.”

“That’s a great idea!” Elsa exulted, smiling broadly. “Bethany and Henry have obviously hit it off, and we always order way too much food.”

“Um …” Emma hedged, her gaze darting from Killian to Elsa and back again.

A part of her wanted to say yes. She had only just met these two, and they already felt like such great friends. But the other part of her, the cautious part, latched onto the fact that she had just met these people . Wasn’t this the part in movies where the naïve young mother gets taken in by the seemingly friendly couple who are actually serial killers? Or she accepts a friendly offer only to find herself escorted to the compound of some weird cult?

Emma shook her head before the words were even out of her mouth. “It’s such a long drive to the city. We really shouldn’t.”

Killian glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s three already, and we’re eating at six. You can just come on over and visit until everyone arrives.”

“You’ll love Anna and her husband,” Elsa insisted.

Emma looked into both their faces, so friendly, so open. In Killian’s eyes, and in their conversations, she also felt a deep connection that she couldn’t explain. But instead of those things comforting her, they only freaked her out more.

“I really can’t,” she said firmly.

Neither of them could hide their disappointment. Killian’s shoulders sagged and he dropped his head to stare at the pumpkin in his arms. When he lifted his gaze to Emma’s, his expression was almost pleading.

“It was wonderful meeting you, Swan. Perhaps … I could get your number?”

Emma felt her heart thudding in her chest, the air suddenly tight in her lungs. They had too much in common, too much shared tragedy. He would expect things to get serious, and that terrified her.

“I … don’t think that’s a good idea.” She averted her gaze when she saw the clear hurt in his eyes.

“Well,” he said with a resigned sigh, “let me help Elsa get these to the car, and I’ll come back and carry yours for you.”

“No, don’t do that,” Emma told him quickly. She feared if she was in this man’s presence for one more minute, her resolve might crumble. “We may be awhile yet. First pumpkin, remember? Gotta make it a good one.”

The smile he gave her was forced, and Elsa laid a hand on his arm as they walked away. Emma remembered her words earlier, I haven’t seen him flirt with a woman that way in so long. He had finally put himself out there, and Emma had crushed him. After they disappeared over the hill, Emma collapsed onto an enormous pumpkin behind her.

“Mo-mmy!” Henry exclaimed, pulling on her hand. “Why you sittin?”

Emma looked at her son wearily. “Because Mommy feels like dirt, that’s why.”

She let Henry pull her to her feet, and she wandered aimlessly among the pumpkins. Henry didn’t seem to mind her stupor, content to run around, climbing on pumpkins and using them like bongo drums. She finally snapped out of it and helped Henry pick a pumpkin for them to carve. One that wasn’t too big or too small and was nice and round. When she hoisted it into her arms, she regretted turning down Killian’s offer to come back and carry it for her. Thankfully, an employee came over to assist her, pushing a wheelbarrow.

It wasn’t until Emma had paid for the pumpkin with the last of the cash in her pocket and had the employee lift it into her backseat that she remembered the tiny pumpkin Henry had painted. She contemplated leaving it, considering that it looked like it had been rolled in doggy poo, but then she thought about what would happen if Henry remembered it. She might have a meltdown on her hands, especially since he hadn’t had a nap today. She sighed wearily, took Henry’s hand, and headed back to the painting booth.

Emma smiled at the workers and thanked them as they handed her Henry’s brown-smudged pumpkin. As she turned to go, Henry’s exclamation stopped her.

“Mommy, look!”

Her son was holding up a pink polka dot Minnie Mouse backpack. On the table next to him was the adorable polka dotted pumpkin Bethany had painted earlier. Emma gasped and took the backpack from her son’s hand. She remembered Elsa carrying it around all day, even complaining how she couldn’t get Bethany to wear it. She examined the pack, looking for a tag with an address, but she could find nothing. She zipped it open, and there, written in black sharpie on the inside cover was, “Property of Bethany Jones, 1245 Sweet Haven Lane, Storybrooke, ME.”

“Henry,” Emma said to her little boy with a smile on her face, “I think fate just gave me another push.”

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

Emma’s GPS told her to take another right turn, then announced that her destination was on the left. Emma parked along the curb, leaning to look out of the window of her yellow bug at the adorable blue Victorian house at 1245 Sweet Haven Lane.

“I hung-wee, Mommy,” Henry told her from the backseat.

“I know, kid,” Emma told him as she unbuckled her seat belt, “we might be eating in just a minute.” If they still want us, that is.

Emma helped Henry out of his car seat and onto the curb. She grabbed Bethany’s things from the front passenger seat, then took Henry’s hand as they walked up the front steps of the beautiful house. It was a little after six, and dusk was falling. The porch lights were already glowing beside the quaint front door. Emma took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open a few moments later, and Emma’s breath left her lungs when she saw Killian Jones standing there. Thankfully, he smiled when he saw her.

“Swan! You changed your mind?”

Emma returned his smile and lifted the backpack up for him to see. “I found this after you left. Your address was inside.”

“Oh,” Killian said, his face falling as he accepted the bag, “thank you.”

“The pumpkin she painted is inside.”

“Uncle Ki-wee!” a small voice called, and then Bethany Jones was colliding with her uncle’s leg. “My bag!” she squealed, grabbing it and hugging it to her chest. “Hen-we!” she exclaimed next, launching herself at her new friend.

“Beffy!” Henry shouted in return.

Before Emma could say anything, Bethany was pulling Henry inside and tugging him down the hall. She shouted as she ran, “They came, Mommy! It worked!”

Killian’s jaw dropped and his face turned red. He pointed at his niece’s retreating form. “I did not plan this, I swear. This was all Elsa’s doing.”

Emma smiled shyly up at him. “I don’t mind. I’m kind of glad, actually.”

He grinned so wide, Emma noticed for the first time that he had dimples. “So you’ll stay?”

She shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I do like Chinese food.”

Killian ushered her inside, where she was promptly enveloped in a hug from Elsa.

“Don’t be mad,” she whispered in Emma’s ear.

Emma smiled at her as she pulled away from her embrace. “Mad? I might just thank you.”

Elsa gave a relieved laugh as she pulled her gently into a formal dining room. A red head walked through an archway that led into the kitchen, carrying two cartons of take out. She actually waddled more than walked because she was very hugely pregnant.

“Emma,” Elsa said eagerly, pulling her across the room, “this is my sister Anna.”

The woman set the cartons of fried rice onto the table and then hugged Emma eagerly. “It is so nice to meet you! Elsa told me all about everything,” she finished with a wink.

Emma could only stammer and blush as Anna stepped away. A man with dirty blonde hair came through the archway next, carrying plastic containers of sweet and sour chicken.

“So who was at the door?” he asked as he came into the room, not really paying attention. “Was it that blonde Killian has a crush on?”

Killian walked in the room at the same moment from the hallway, and he stood there, the top of his ears turning red. Bethany was wrapped around his left leg, and Henry around his right. Both were giggling delightedly. Overall, it made an adorable picture.

“Kristoff!” Anna admonished over her shoulder, then quickly turned back to Emma. “Forgive my husband, he has no filter.”

“Says the girl who asked me why I smelled like wet fur the day she met me,” Kristoff grumbled.

Anna rolled her eyes. “Just go get the soy sauce, honey.”

Chastised, Kristoff shuffled back to the kitchen. Elsa shook her head. “Don’t mind them, their cutting banter is their idea of foreplay.”

Anna laughed as she eased herself awkwardly into a dining room chair. “As you can clearly see,” she said, rubbing her large abdomen.

“When are you due?” Emma asked politely.

“Not for another month,” Anna said on a long sigh, “and I know, I’m huge.”

“You look perfect,” Kristoff assured her as he returned with the condiments.

He leaned over and planted a kiss to her forehead. Anna tilted her head and smiled up at him, squeezing the hand that rested on her shoulder. Emma had to admit they were an adorable couple.

Elsa encouraged everyone to take a seat, adamant about who sat where. Therefore, Emma wasn’t surprised to end up on Killian’s right with Henry on the other side of her. Food was passed around amidst easy chatter, and Emma just soaked it in. The only time she ever had this as a kid was with that one family when she was fourteen. Then they had chosen their “real kids” over her, and she had run away.

“So Elsa said you live in Portland,” Kristoff said, making small talk to include her. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um … “ Emma hedged, squirming in her seat, “right now I’m just a temp, filling in here and there.”

She stared at her fried rice, hoping her answer didn’t make her sound irresponsible. Giving birth in jail at 18 wasn’t exactly conducive to higher education, and even though she had worked her butt off once she got out to be able to keep Henry, employers weren’t exactly jumping to give her a chance.

“That’s so funny,” Elsa laughed, “I was working at a temp agency when I met Kristoff. I would never have offered him a home cooked meal if I had known he would steal away my sister.”

Emma laughed along with them as they reminisced, relieved that no one was pressing her about her career plans. Until Elsa turned to her again.

“Have you thought of online college?” she asked. “That’s what I did while working as a temp. Anna and I lost our parents when I was a freshman in college, and it drastically changed both our plans.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said softly.

Killian leaned over, “Welcome to the orphan’s club.”

Emma glanced around the table at all of the welcoming faces around her, and for the first time since she pulled up to the curb in front of the house, she relaxed. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and Emma found herself smiling and laughing.

“Killian!” Anna gasped, reaching across the table to grasp his left hand which was reaching for another helping of rice, “You took off your wedding ring!”

“Um, aye,” he said awkwardly, pulling his hand from her grip and scratching behind his ear. He glanced at Emma and held her gaze as he explained. “It felt like it was finally time to move on.”

“Oh, I’m so happy!” Anna gasped, both hands flying to her face and tears filling her eyes. She grabbed her napkin and dabbed at her cheeks as they spilled over. “Sorry, pregnancy hormones you know.”

“Mommy,” Bethany piped up, tugging on Elsa’s sleeve, “when we get mashmell-os?”

Elsa rubbed her daughter’s back. “In just a little bit, sweetie.”

“I think we’re all done, right?” Kristoff asked. “All we have to do is toss the paper plates and put away the leftovers.”

“Yay!” Bethany cheered.

“Wait!” Anna said. She reached for a small bowl full of cellophane wrapped fortune cookies. “It’s a birthday tradition, you know. Choose a cookie.”

“We all have to go around and read our fortunes out loud,” Killian explained.

“Oh,” Emma said with a nod as she reached into the bowl as it was passed to her.

“Birthday girl first!” Anna squealed, then broke open her cookie. She read it silently, then burst out laughing. “A great change is coming your way.”

Everyone laughed along with her, and Elsa quipped, “Believe me, you have lots of changes in your future, most of them smelly ones. Right, Emma?”

“Okay,” Anna said, rubbing her hands together gleefully, “I choose Killian to go next.” She exchanged a delighted glance with her sister then added in a sing-song voice, “I hope it’s a good one!”

Killian just shook his head at the teasing as he cracked open his fortune cookie. As he read the tiny slip of paper, however, the blood seemed to drain from his face, and his eyes widened considerably. He just sat there for a long moment, staring at it.

“Well,” Anna pressed, leaning across the table and craning her neck to try to see his fortune, “what does it say?”

“Nothing,” Killian said with a shake of his head, “just your generic good luck sentiment, you know.”

“Killian,” Elsa admonished with a narrowing of her eyes, “that’s not how the tradition works and you know it. Read the fortune, Jones.”

Killian swallowed as red crept up his neck. Then he cleared his throat and read, “Kiss the person to your right.”

Every pair of eyes at the table swiveled towards Emma. Except Killian, who stared down at his plate.

“No way!” Kristoff argued. “It doesn’t say that. Let me see!”

He reached across the table and snatched the fortune. Upon reading it, he handed it to his wife. Her jaw dropped.

“That’s really what it says!”

The fortune was passed around until it got to Emma. Sure enough, Killian wasn’t making it up. Emma’s face burned as she slid the paper over to Killian, their fingertips brushing. She ever so slowly lifted her gaze to his. He gave her a sheepish smile and an apologetic shrug.

“Well, kiss her!” Anna insisted. Her sister and her husband added their encouragement as well.

Emma could see that Killian was conflicted. So she arched a brow and gave him a flirty smile as she said, “Well, how about it? You gonna kiss me or just sit there?”

There was a combination of cheering and clapping from the others, even Bethany and Henry, though they probably had no idea what was going on. Killian chuckled and ducked his head, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. Then his eyes met hers again, and he leaned towards her. But just before his lips could connect with hers, he changed his angle and brushed them across her cheek instead. Emma was simultaneously disappointed and amazed at how that simple brush of his lips sent a thrill all the way to the core of her. A groan resounded from the others but Emma gave him a tender smile. Though part of her wanted him to kiss her properly, she knew it would have been awkward with everyone, including her three year old watching. He reached out with his thumb and brushed it across the dimple in her chin. It was only a quick, light touch, but it made her heart flip anyway.

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

After the fortune cookies, Kristoff and Killian got a bonfire going in the backyard, and everyone gathered around to roast marshmallows. There was also a chocolate cake for Anna’s birthday. Both Kristoff and Killian could play the guitar, and Elsa was an amazing singer. Emma had never heard a better rendition of the birthday song. Then the guys took requests, readily singing and playing whatever was thrown their way, even the PJ Masks theme song (as requested by Henry and Bethany, of course). It showed what good uncles they both were to Bethany that the men already knew all the words.

Now Henry was asleep in Killian’s arms as he walked them to her yellow bug. He gently placed the child in his car seat, and Emma’s heart ached in her chest as Killian smoothed her son’s hair across his forehead. Emma put her hand in her pocket and fingered the fortune she had gotten: When fate gives you a sign, leap.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked as Killian stood and gently shut the car door.

“Sure.”

“Was that kiss really the best that you could do?” her mouth turned up flirtatiously as she said it.

A slow smile filled Killian’s face as well. He sauntered into her personal space as he answered. “Perhaps I was worried that you couldn’t handle it.”

Emma tilted her head as she bit her lower lip. She saw Killian’s eyes drift to stare at that spot, his pupils dilating. “Maybe you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

He pounced on her so suddenly, that Emma let out a yelp. It was quickly swallowed up, however, by his mouth on hers. The kiss was deep and aggressive, and it caused Emma to lose her balance. Killian cupped her cheek with one hand and steadied her at the waist with the other. He turned her slightly to pin her between the bug and his body. Emma snaked her arms up his chest and then grasped the back of his head with both hands. It was his turn now as she kissed him back with ferocity, a groan escaping from his throat.

When they finally parted, panting, they were both wobbling slightly and disoriented. They pressed their foreheads together to steady themselves.

“Now that,” Emma gasped, “was a kiss.”

He chuckled, brushing both of her cheeks with his thumbs as he cupped her face. He bent down to kiss her again, this one slow and languid. His fingers drifted to her hair, tangling there and tugging slightly. It took every ounce of willpower Emma had to push him away, and even then she chased his lips, brushing them chastely before reaching behind her and grasping the door handle.

“Good night,” she told him as she opened the car door.

“Wait …” he said, looking completely wrecked by their kisses.

Emma put two fingers to his lips to stop his words, then with her other hand, she pressed a tiny slip of paper into his palm. Then she quickly entered the bug, started the car, and drove away. She glanced in her rearview mirror only once to see him standing in the street, staring down at that tiny bit of paper. She tore her gaze away as she turned at the next stop sign.

Suddenly, her cell phone started ringing. Emma picked it up and grinned broadly to see an unknown number flashing on the screen. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath so that when she answered, she sounded calm.

“Hello.”

“You know, a lesser man might think you were teasing, Swan. Writing your number on such an itty bitty piece of paper.”

“Well,” Emma teased back, “I wanted you to work for it.”

“When can I see you again?”

The timbre of Killian’s voice when he asked the question sent a shiver down Emma’s spine.

“When are you available?”

“Well, we’ve already been on a hayride, solved a corn maze, been to a pumpkin patch, and had a bonfire. How about we continue the fall clichés and carve said pumpkins together? Could you and Henry be here tomorrow afternoon? Or do you work Sundays?”

Emma didn’t know what touched her more; that he wanted to see her again so soon, that he was including Henry, or that he had chosen a casual activity. It took her so long to get herself together, that Killian got nervous waiting on the other end.

“Swan, you still there?”

Emma cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, sorry. I was just … thinking that tomorrow is perfect.”

Over the next few weeks, Killian insisted that they check off every fall tradition together. In addition to carving pumpkins, they watched a Storybrooke High football game cuddled underneath a fuzzy blanket, jumped into a pile of leaves, bobbed for apples at the Storybrooke Fall Festival, and took Henry and Bethany trick or treating. By the time Emma found herself gathered around the dining room table once again for Thanksgiving with Killian’s family, she had decided one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Fall was definitely her favorite season.

[near-dareis-mai]

taking small steps back home (carol/maria)

(Also on Ao3)

They rebuild their small family little by little, in the stretches of time when Carol is not off in space fighting some threat or other.

There are big moments that define these stretches of time when she's home: the first time her and Maria confess their love to each other, the commitment ceremony they hold after she properly proposes to Maria,  Monica's graduation from elementary school.

But, right alongside these life-defining events, there are small and seemingly inconsequential ones, that let Carol know that she's truly found her family again, that she once more has a place in the world where she belongs.

Small things, for instance, like a simple photo.

---

"A family photo?" Maria blinks up at Carol. Carol notices that her hands are still unconsciously rifling through the high school admissions brochure she'd been skimming, even as her attention is focused on Carol.

"It's been eight years now," Carol says. " I've been looking at Monica's photoboard. It's about time we got an updated one to put on it, don't you?"

She smiles at Maria, and sees an answering smile bloom. It is, as always, a slow transformation of her face, in subtle shifts of elation. Also as always, Carol watches transfixed.

"Alright," Maria says in a low register, before raising her voice. "Monica? Come here, baby."

There's the padding of feet down carpeted stairs, and then Monica barrels into view, so fast that it's almost as if - and Carol is willing to bet that's the case - she'd been waiting for the call. She almost trips over the rug in her haste, as she reaches them, but Carol sweeps her up at the last time, in a windmill of arms.

"Careful!" Carol rights Monica, while Maria sighs and rolls her eyes upwards in a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Could've gotten in some real trouble there, lieutenant."

"Sorry, sorry." Monica giggles, and squirms around until Carol lets her go.

"Since I'm sure you weren't eavesdropping at all," Maria says, fixing a stern look at her daughter, which is returned with a meek poker face by Monica that Carol is incredibly proud of. "I'm sure you didn't hear that we're gonna be taking a new family photo, and that you're gonna need to get dressed."

Monica nods meekly and barrels off again, and Maria fixes Carol with the same stern look.

"She got that from you," she accuses, getting up from the kitchen table and wandering in Carol's direction.

Carol just smirks back at her, and Maria's stern look dissolves into a smile that she seems to be physically fighting off.

"Come on." Carol slings an arm around her waist and draws her close, dropping the rest of her words against her ear in a lower register. "If we're fast enough in dressing, I'll show you what else she got from me."

Although Maria rolls her eyes, Carol still feels her melt into the hold. As she leans against Carol, the lines of Maria's face soften, as if some great weight has been taken off her.

"It's good to have you home," she says, quietly.

Instantly, Carol feels guilty. She tries to be home as much as she can. But, between finding the Skrulls a new home, and rounding up the thousands of refugees scattered in every sector of their galaxy, she finds herself stuck in space for weeks on end sometimes. Helping out on one planet or another, and unable to see the two most important people in her life except via the comms.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I should be home more, I know. I should be" - she sneaks a look back the admissions brochure left on the kitchen table - "I should be helping out more with things like that. I promise I'll be back in time to do the school visits with you."

"Hey, hey," Maria says quietly, jostling her to get Carol's attention. "I didn't mean it like that. I know you've got things to do, out there. I just meant, it's nice, having my co-pilot back, sometimes."

Instead of answering, Carol draws her closer, knowing that words aren't enough, not to explain everything she feels in her heart, towards Maria and towards their family. Words aren't enough to explain that the only regret she feels over her newfound powers is that they keep her away from the two people that she longs to be with always. Words aren't enough to explain that the only place she'll ever call home is the one she has made with the woman beside her, and her daughter rushing around upstairs.

Words aren't enough, so she holds Maria and deposits a soft kiss against her temple - knowing that if she made any further move, they'd probably be hearing a drawn out complaint from Monica - and hopes that someday soon, this war hanging over their heads will end, and they can go back to what they were again, just a family of three that had found each other amidst all the tumult of the world.

---

They make a short stop on the way to the photo studio, to pick up a very disgruntled Flerken from a very disgruntled Fury.

"Thought you were leaving her with me for the whole weekend," he grumps, as he hands Goose over. "Take good care of her, now."

"We'll be back with her before you know it, mom," Carol calls back, as they drive off, and settles back in her seat with a grin, while Goose climbs all over her, meowing out her dislike at being taken away from her favorite human.

"Damn, he really is attached to that cat, huh?" Maria remarks, glancing away briefly from the road.

"Mm-hmm," Carol murmurs, as the flerken finally climbs off her and dozes off to sleep on the dashboard. "You know, I think being a lethal weapon just made him fonder of her, somehow."

---

They make it to the studio in one piece, but it turns out that maybe having Goose in the family photos isn't as good an idea as Carol had initially thought. Because, the flerken takes one look at the glares of camera around them, and freaks out.

"Mrooowwwr!!!"

Carol manages to close her hands over Goose's mouth just in time to trap the tentacles, glancing sheepishly at the terrified photographer's assistant who had been helping them get settled in the booth.

"Um," Maria states into the elongated silence, which is broken only by a quiet snicker from Monica. "Maybe we should take a rain check, or just do this at home."

She leads the way out of the studio after many apologies for the cancellation, Carol keeping a watchful eye on Goose until they're out in the open air.

"Never a dull moment when you're here, is there?" Maria says, as they walk aimlessly in the direction of the crowds.

"It's why you keep me around, isn't it?" Carol says, smiling at her until she sees the unwilling upward tilt of Maria's mouth, before turning to wink at Monica. "Come on, Goose Danvers deserves to be in the photo."

"Goose Danvers?" Maria raises her eyebrows. "You've given the cat a last name? No, never mind, I'm not even surprised."

"I like it," Monica chimes in. "Welcome to the family, Goose Danvers!"

Goose mews back, as if in reply, and Maria sighs.

"I can see when I'm outnumbered," she says, shaking her head, before turning her attention to the ice cream stall on the sidewalk. "Alright, let's not waste an outing. How do flerkens feel about chocolate ice cream?"

Monica is off running towards the stall before she finishes the question, and Goose jumps out of Carol's arms, chasing after her.

"They like it as much as Lieutenant Trouble does, I think," Carol says, lazily looping an arm around Maria's shoulders - this part is new, that they're now in a time where it's more okay to do things like this, out in the open, and she revels in it every single time when they're out - and depositing a languid kiss against her cheek. "Why don't we go and find out?"

They walk towards their daughter, all disappointments about ruined photoshoots and lost time forgotten.