#she puts any coffee shop profits back into the house of change

[beneathsilverstars]

bonus euphrasie! she owns the coffee shop, and she's on the board of the local house of change. the change religion is still a thing in this au, and houses offer classes, resources like tools/clothes/books, and counseling/advising. they're a bit underfunded these days, but still very helpful, if you don't mind the religious slant.

[p-artsypants]

Arcadia or Bust (17)

Heartstone Hall

Previously on Arcadia or Bust:

James Lake Sr. came back to Arcadia while Jim and friends were out retrieving the new Heartstone. The deadbeat not only ran away with a girl, but he’d been dealing cocaine in LA. Now he’s come back to lay low, since he owes a lot of money to some really dangerous men. He got a kilo of cocaine to try to make his profit back, only to not pick it up from the drop zone before Jim found it. Thinking it was trash, Jim ate the brick and went into an 8 hour rage, busting up the town. The US army of Area 49-B got a whiff of the destruction and came to collect Jim from the hospital. With a campaign from the town and an old friend of Walter’s, Jim is turned loose. However, he’s not out of the woods yet, as his amulet was ripped out of his chest and now he has a crater. 

—

*points in a random direction* Hey look! What’s that over there?! *Drops update* *runs*

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“It’s okay Jim, you’re going to be okay,” said Claire, as she hovered just over his face, and pressed little kisses to his cheek. “We’re going home.” 

“…For the…glory…” he muttered, before wincing and falling silent. 

“Are you taking us to the hospital?” Barbara asked as the van sped on, faster than any speed limit. 

“Nope,” said Samuel. “I think this is a Heartstone issue.” 

She nodded, knowing that would be the best. “He needs a tissue transplant, but his skin is so tough…I don’t even know what we could do for him. Get human skin and have Merlin transform it into half-troll? I hate that I don’t know what to do! I’m not a surgeon, damnit! And I’m certainly no magic expert!” 

“Stop at the McDonald’s near the edge of town,” said Toby. 

“Really? You want a Big Mac at a time like this?” 

“No! Merlin is probably there, and I bet he could fix Jim up.” 

“Wait, Merlin-Merlin? Like ‘Amulet of Merlin, Sword of Excalibur’ Merlin?” Asked Samuel.

“That’s the one!” 

Once they got into town, Samuel pulled in at the McDonalds as requested, and Toby was out the door before he stopped the car. 

“Merlin! Merlin help!” He cried, as he ran inside the restaurant. 

The employees behind the counter all looked at him, and then pointed at Merlin, who had set up shop in the corner of the store. He was surrounded by books, and other magical artifacts. 

How had management allowed this? Well actually, Merlin wouldn’t have listened to any authority, so they probably didn’t allow it. 

Toby ran to the wizard. “We got Jim back! He’s in the van, and he’s hurt really bad! We need you to heal him!” 

“What kind of injury?” Asked Merlin, calmly packing up his books. 

“They took his amulet, and there’s a huge hole in his chest! I could see his lungs!” 

Merlin screwed up his lips in thought. “Where are they taking him? To the Heartstone?”

“That’s what Samuel said!” 

Merlin didn’t ask who Samuel was, so he probably didn’t care. “I will be there shortly. I must gather the appropriate supplies. Keep him reclined and relaxed. And try not to prod the wound.” 

Toby nodded once and then ran back outside to the van. 

One of the McDonald employees calmly came over and refilled Merlin’s coffee, as he had asked to be done every hour. 

“Good lad. I’m leaving now. Here, for your trouble.” And he dropped a sizable emerald in the kid’s hand. 

The kid looked at it and shrugged. “Whatever.” It beat minimum wage at least.

—

At the canal, Claire opened up the portal to Trollmarket while Walter and Samuel started to get Jim out of the van. She ran in and called out, “Blinky! ARRRGH! Jim’s back! He’s hurt!” 

ARRRGH came running, while Blinky gathered all sorts of supplies and carried them down to the Heartstone. 

It was a mad dash then. Jim was quickly, but carefully, brought down into Heartstone Hall, and rested on his mattress on the floor. 

“…cold…” he whispered as he grasped and pulled at the blankets. 

Barbara pulled the comforter up to his stomach, and draped a smaller one over his right side. “I know you're cold, but you have a wound, and we can’t cover it yet.” 

“…water…” 

“I’m on it!” Cried Toby, running upstairs.

Jim groaned out in pain, and the Heartstone responded with a pulse of light. 

“Is that good?” Asked Claire. 

“The Heartstone is picking up on Jim’s pain, and is releasing magic to aid in his healing!” Said Blinky, with a smile. 

“Is that going to deplete the magic we put back into it?” 

“No no! Well, maybe…it shouldn’t!” 

Jim moaned out again, tensing his whole body, and craning his neck in an effort to find relief. 

“Just a little bit longer, sweetie,” said Barbara. “Merlin will be here soon.” She gnawed on her lip. “I could probably get an IV for him from the hospital. I have my phone, so call me if there’s any change!” 

“I’ll drive you, Dr. Lake,” said Samuel. 

“That’s alright, I’ll take the tunnel to my house and grab my car. That way, you don’t need to be held up here any longer. You’ve been a great help.” 

The general smiled. “It was worth it more than I thought. The Trollhunter owes me a favor now, you see. I probably won’t need to collect, but it’s always fun to have that in your back pocket. And besides, I got to see Trollmarket and the Heartstone with my own eyes.” He glanced at the orange stone. “That’s a privilege everyone in the Janus Order longed for.” Before he got too wistful, he turned to Walt. “You’ll let me know how this all turns out, right? Because I’m invested in Mr. Lake’s fate now.”

“I’ll text you updates.” 

“Fantastic.” He gave Jim a pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Trollhunter.”

“I’ll show you out,” said Barbara as they left together. 

Then it was just Blinky, ARRRGH, Claire, and Walt. Time ticked on in silence, as no one knew what to do or say. Only occasional groans from Jim broke the quiet atmosphere.

“What’s taking Merlin so long?” Said Claire, with irritation. 

“He’s coming?” Asked Blinky.

“We told him about what happened before we came down here. Said he had to collect ‘appropriate materials’.” 

“So he’s collecting materials,” said Walter. “It might take some time.” 

“Yeah, but he’s probably doing it at a leisurely pace. The man has no concept of time anymore. We need to get him a phone. Or at least a walkie-talkie.” 

Just then, a gallon bucket of ice and water bottles descended on a rope from the center column of the room. 

“Heads up! It’s kinda heavy!” Toby called before it hit the ground harshly. Then he nearly tumbled down the stairs himself. 

“I got a bunch because I know Jim doesn’t have running water down here yet, and I didn’t want us to run out!” He took a bottle from the bucket and put a silly straw in it so Jim could drink without having to sit up. “Sorry Jim, this is the only straw I have…it says ‘big boy’.” Toby tilted the end of the straw so it touched Jim’s lips. 

In his half conscious state, Jim felt it, took it in his mouth, and sucked, emptying half the bottle in one go. He released the straw and licked his lips. 

“Better, Jimbo?” 

“Uh huh…” Jim managed a little nod. 

“Okay. I’ll be on water duty. You just say the word, okay?” 

“…For…the glory of Merlin…” Jim tried again, before wincing hard. “Hurts to breathe…” 

Claire sat cross legged on the bed next to him, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. “Just hang on for a little bit longer. Your mom is bringing some medicine from the hospital, and Merlin is going to fix you up.” 

His eyes flickered open ever so slightly. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in Heartstone Hall, in your bed.” 

His eyes closed again. “My amulet…gone.” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it right now. Just relax.” 

“Hurts…” 

“I know, babe, I know.” 

Walt stood, looking at his phone. “Barbara’s back. I’ll go help her.” And he left. 

Blinky snapped his fingers. “I think Vendal had a recipe for a burn salve up there. I can work on that. Come ARRRGH! It’s the least we can do!” 

“Yell if Jim need help,” ARRRGH added, as he followed Blinky up the stairs. 

“More water, Jimbo?” 

“Huh Uh…” 

After he drank, he winced, and a tear rolled from his eye. “I want my mom.” 

“She’s coming, Jim. She’s bringing some medicine for you.” 

“Where…am I?” 

Claire then realized that Jim was barely conscious, and wasn’t listening to much anyways. She’d end up repeating herself a lot. 

She pushed his bangs out of his face and kissed his forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re nice and safe, babe.” 

Toby and Claire sat in silence as Jim continued to struggle to breathe. 

Thankfully, Barbara and Walt appeared not a minute later, with all sorts of goodies. 

“Alright kiddo, let’s get you all cleaned up. Claire, would you put on these gloves? I’d like you to clean the skin around his wound with these alcohol swabs while I set up the IV.” 

“On it Barb!” Claire got to work quickly, thankful to be able to do something to help. 

Walt set up the IV stand while Barbara prepared the needle and inserted it in Jim’s arm. 

“I hate that I have to use a thicker gauge needle, but your skin is so tough, kid.” 

Jim didn’t seem to even register what she was doing. 

Once the IV was in and taped in place, Barbara took out a thick gauze and started taping it in place on Jim’s chest. “The wound isn’t bleeding nearly as much as it should,” she stated, with a frown.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Asked Claire. 

“I’m thinking it’s because of the burns on him. They weren’t this bad at the hospital. He had been out in sunlight that day, but it was overcast and he had on long sleeves.” She taped down the gauze with medical masking tape. “No, this looks like...well, third degree on a human. Direct heat like flames or burning metal. I guess that would be a UV light for Jim.” 

“I’m going to hammer that lady into the ground,” Toby muttered.

“There, this should be good for now. I’ll bandage him again once Merlin cleans him up.” She rested a weak hand to her head. “Lord help me, I’m depending on Merlin.” 

Thankfully, news came by Claire’s phone, with an unknown number. 

“Hello?” 

“Claire? This is Douxie.” 

“Douxie! Please tell me you’re with Merlin!” 

“I am! Not that I can get his butt moving any faster. He briefed me on the situation, and I’ve been trying to rush him…but, you know how he is…” 

She could hear the old man shouting somewhere in the near distance. “Three days? Well he’ll be dead by then! No need for it by that time! You don’t have anything in stock?” 

Claire winced. “Where are you guys?” 

“At the hardware store, ummm you’re better off not knowing why for now. We’ll be at Trollmarket soon, I promise!” 

“Thank you. And thank you for calling. We were getting worried.” 

“How is he?” 

“Barely conscious. He’s on an IV with pain meds now…so he’ll be feeling a little better. He keeps trying to summon his amulet, but he doesn’t have the strength.” 

“Uh oh, he doesn’t have the amulet with him?” 

“No, the army wouldn’t give it back.” 

Douxie exhaled in a huff. “We’ll figure something out. Oh, Looks like Merlin found an alternative. We’ll be on our way soon!” 

“Great! See you!” And she ended the call. “Merlin should be coming soon!” 

“Thank goodness!” Barbara sighed. “Though it looks like Jim finally fell asleep. His pain is mostly managed…all we can do now is wait.” 

It felt like they were waiting hours. But there was not much else to do. 

Jim slept fitfully, occasionally opening his eyes to look around. It was clear he was exhausted, so he’d just close them again a moment later, and they heard his slow breathing. 

“This is torture,” said Claire. “But I can’t imagine what he’s been through.” 

“I hope that along with her discharge, that Kubritz lady does hard time in prison,” said Toby. 

“And I hope they do everything to her that she did to him,” Claire added, with venom. “If they don’t, I will.”

“I’ll back you up.” 

It was hard to share small talk, but just listening to Jim’s labored breathing and waiting felt like a terrible option. 

Finally, finally, Merlin’s horrible grating voice echoed through the Heartstone husk. “Hello? Is this where the injured Jim is?” 

“Yes!” Claire cried out. She was never so happy to hear that man’s voice. 

No really, most of the time, his appearance filled her with dread. 

Merlin and Douxie descended the stairs, arms full of plastic shopping bags. 

And it finally seemed like Merlin was done wasting time, as he spared no greetings and got busy examining Jim. He removed the blanket that covered his shoulder, and the temporary bandages Barbara applied. 

He cringed at the sight of the crater. “Yikes. That is quite the wound.” 

“Can you heal him?” Claire asked, afraid that he wasn’t up to the task. 

“Sure. No problem. Douxie, prepare the plaster.” 

“Plaster?” Barbara asked, with horror.

“Ugh, I know,” said the wizard. “Three days for expedited shipping for clay! Ridiculous! I thought the modern era was a time of immediate gratification! But no, the one time I need something quick, it’s a three day wait! Do they not know where the nearest clay deposits are?!” 

“Okay, but the plaster? What’s the deal with the plaster?!” 

“What else do you expect me to use to fill a wound in a troll?” 

“You’re going to pour plaster in his open wound?!” 

“Yes! And more!” He glanced over to the bucket Douxie was mixing in. “How’s it coming?” 

“Do you want it more watery, or thick?” 

“Thick without being too dry.” Then he turned back and leaned in close to Jim. “None of you are going to like what I’m about to do.” He pressed two fingers to Jim’s chest, and spoke, “imperium.” 

Jim’s eyes flashed open, wide, pupils expanded so the iris was just a hint of blue.

“Jim Lake Jr., summon your amulet,” Merlin commanded. 

Jim raised his hand up in the air slowly and spoke clearly, “for the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command.” 

Then Merlin let go, and Jim fell back into slumber, Claire having to catch his hand before it smacked him in the face. 

“What was that?” She asked. 

“I thought it was fairly obvious. A mind control spell. Very weak, only works on unconscious individuals within range.” 

“You know Mind Control?” Asked Toby, with some horror. 

“To a degree. As I said. It’s more like the power of suggestion. Morgana has learned how to fully possess someone’s mind, but I always preferred to use my natural charisma to persuade people.” 

Someone snorted. 

“The plaster is ready,” said Douxie. “Did you want to start with the strips?” 

“Yes,” he collected the tray Douxie had prepared. Mesh cloth strips sprayed with plaster, which created a base. Carefully, Merlin began to lay the strips in the hole in Jim’s chest, applying just enough pressure to adhere them and blend the edges. Once he had completely coated the inside, without filling the hole, he stopped.  

“There, now we’ll treat his burns. You said you had electricity down here?” 

“Uh, yeah. There’s an outlet on the wall next to you,” said Claire. 

“Perfect.” From his various bags, he took out a palm sander with a coarse paper on it. He plugged it in. “Now how do I work this thing?” 

“Why don’t you let me handle that while you use the file…” Douxie took the power tool away from him. “Claire, can you sit him up and lean against his back as a counter weight?”

“The file? I don’t want to use the file! I got this so you would use the file!”

“Merlin!” Barbara scolded. 

“Fine, I’ll use the file…better for fine detailing anyways.”

It was agonizing moments as Douxie buffed away the dried, burnt skin that came off like dust, while Merlin shucked off the chunks that were too thick for the sander. 

Jim, for the most part, only twitched and cried out on occasion, only when they got too close to fresh skin. 

Once he was rubbed raw and bright blue, a little bloody in some places, they stopped. 

“It’s like an extreme pumice stone,” Douxie tried to soothe, feeling guilty as Claire wiped her tears. “The skin affected by the sun, or UV lights or whatever, was solid stone and had to come  off.” 

“I know,” said Claire. “It was just…jarring.” 

“Alright, we’re almost done,” said Merlin, scrounging up some compassion. “You can recline him again, Fair Claire.” 

Gently, Claire laid him back down on the pillows. 

Merlin took the loose plaster and slopped a bit in the wound, trying to make up for the missing space. 

Then, from the stairs came a ‘plink, plunk, plink, plunk’ as the amulet rolled its way down and stopped at Merlin’s feet. “Got here faster than I anticipated. I’d love to see the damage it did on it’s way.” 

“I thought if someone stole the amulet, it wouldn’t come back?” Asked Toby. 

“Not unless it’s properly summoned. If it only chooses one Trollhunter, you think it would want to be anywhere else?” Merlin cleaned the amulet with a rag to a near mirror shine, before placing it back in its spot on Jim’s chest. 

“Can’t you just keep it out of him? What if something like this happens again?” 

“Then we’ll just have to buy more plaster,” shrugged Merlin. “Anyway, it’s better this way.” He smeared more plaster in the cracks and smoothed it with his hands, until the seam was perfectly even. 

“Now what?”

“The plaster should start to dry soon, and a chemical reaction will take place, putting off heat. Then I will start the incantation.”

“Why then?”

“Must everything I do be questioned?”

“Yes.” Said everyone, unanimously.

“Because I said so. That’s why.” He touched the plaster, careful not to jostle it, and waited for the heat to set in. “Alright, I suggest everyone stand back. You too, Claire, get behind me.” 

Claire scooted off the bed and stood back with Toby and Barbara, then they waited anxiously. 

“It’s going to look and sound painful, but a little bit of pain, and he’ll be all better.” Merlin’s hands glowed blue, interacting with the pulsing, ticking amulet. Instead of a one word spell, like he had been doing, Merlin muttered a fast string of words that sounded like nothing and everything at the same time. Lightning bolts skittered from his fingertips, and drew patterns on Jim’s flesh. 

Jim screamed and writhed as every bolt connected. They danced across the plaster, turning it to his hardened flesh as they moved. The hands on the amulet spun rapidly as the stone pulsed a violent blue. The wound from Morgana, lower on his chest, flickered orange like embers. The Heartstone glowed as well. 

Claire felt her hair stand on end and goosebumps rise to her skin. The magic in the room was deafening, blinding, and amazing.

Finally, Merlin halted, and only smoke remained. 

Jim breathed deep, quick breaths, like you would after a run. But it wasn’t labored or halted, like before. 

“Cl-Claire?” He asked, his voice stronger than it had been. 

She nearly tackled him. “Jim! Jim you’re alright!” 

He winced slightly as she collided with his raw skin, but hugged her anyway. “Where am I?” 

“You’re home!” 

“Home?” 

“It’s a long story. How do you feel?” 

“Tired, hungry…a little sore. I remember being in a lot of pain…” he looked down at his chest, touching the amulet in confusion. 

“Merlin just healed you,” she explained. “They hurt you pretty bad, huh?” 

He rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders. “No kidding.” 

“Well,” said Merlin, “my work here is done. I think I’m ready for a nap of my own.” 

“Thank you, Merlin,” Barbara said sincerely. “Thank you for saving my boy.” 

“Of course! You didn’t think I was going to leave my greatest warrior to die, did you? Oh, before I forget, I should probably give this back.” He handed a black wallet over to her. 

“Wait, whose is this?” 

“James’. I needed to pay for the sander somehow.” 

Barbara laughed. “Well, he’s not going to be happy about it, but glad to know he contributed to this too.” Then she muttered, “considering it’s all his fault in the first place.” 

By the end of the day, Jim was up. Not fully recovered, but enough to shuffle around. He was able to go to his mother’s house and take a shower, while Barbara changed the blood-stained, plaster dusted sheets. When he was all clean, he sat in the living room in his sweatpants, exhausted, and aching. 

“Blinky made you a salve, if you want me to put it on you,” Claire offered, holding up a little jar. 

“I’d love that.” 

She delicately rubbed it into his skin, like Aloe on a severe sunburn. Careful not to scratch him, but also wanting to make sure he was covered.

James walked past the room and halted. “Jim! You’re—you’re back!” 

Jim just glanced at the man. “And?”

“I just…um, look, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t know…that you ate trash. I would have made the drop for the cocaine somewhere else. I didn’t think—that’s not something people usually have to worry about, you know?”

“Yeah. Usually.” Jim said, stone cold. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Why do you care?”

“B-because you’re my son?” 

Jim couldn’t stifle the eye roll. “So NOW you think I’m your son? Where was that mentality when you pointed a shotgun at me?”

“I was in a severe crack withdrawal when I did that.” 

“And you’re just magically better now?”

James sat in an armchair opposite him. “I’m not going to say yes, but I’m better. I’m trying to get out of your and Babs’ lives, because I brought so much hurt in the first place. But…seeing what I’m missing out on—“ 

“No!” Jim snarled, standing up. “You don’t get to be sentimental now. You don’t get to change your mind. You suck! That’s all you’ve done! Mom’s moved on, I have men that are more fatherly than you could ever be if you tried! So just—finish your business and get lost!” He tried to step towards the basement, but he crumbled, still far too physically weak to walk on his own. 

“I got you,” Claire whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. “James,” she turned to look at him briefly. “I don’t know if you realized how crappy that thing you just said was. Don’t try to get Jim’s hopes up. He’s hurt, he’s upset, he’s vulnerable. So just stay away. If you truly want to be back in Jim’s life, don’t mention that you’re considering it. Back it up with action, or else you’ll just be disappointing us all when you go back. And as far as I know…your word is worthless.” She helped Jim walk slowly back to the basement, to the tunnel back to Trollmarket. 

“Trouble? I heard yelling,” said Draal.  

“No, no trouble. Thanks Draal,” Jim gave him a weak, affectionate punch. 

—

Many many miles away, a group of men watched the news, an old broadcast that one of them had snagged. 

“—The campaign worked perfectly! Now, hero to Arcadia, James Lake Jr. has been released from his wrongful imprisonment for his bizarre appearance, and returned home. Lake is hailed a local hero, as his acts of kindness and selflessness during a horrendous tornado in the area have become well known in the community as well as on social media. A parade in Lake’s honor is set for this weekend, as Lake has made a good progression in his recovery from captivity.”

“Okay, a kid was arrested because he looks weird. Not sure what the correlation is.” 

The leader of the pack smiled. “Oh, it’s such a subtle thing. We don’t care about the kid, or his deeds, or even the city of Arcadia really.” 

“Then…what?”

“Did you catch the boy’s name?”

“I…Lake? Like…”

“Jim Lake Jr. is what they said. Maybe a common name. But if there’s a Junior…perhaps there’s a Senior nearby.”

—

I have not seen Rise of the Titans (though I expect to watch it this weekend) but I heard it was…not good, story wise. So in this fic, I won’t be applying any of it. Probably. Unless something juicy catches my eye.

[javier-djarin]

eep congrats on 1000 followers! this is so exciting! could i get prompt 50 with max lord?🥺💕

Do Not Pass Go

A Maxwell Lord One Shot

Ship: Max Lord x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1,467 words

Warnings: Soft!Max

Masterlist

Summary: Date night plans changed and now you’re having a games night with Max and Alistair.

A/N:  I’m so nervous about this one, since this is my first time writing for Maxwell Lord. I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for the support and love!!! Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

Prompt 50: “I thought you loved me!” “Get over it, it’s just Monopoly.”

You put on a comfortable sundress and a sweater before running downstairs to meet your date. You lived in an upscale apartment in D.C., but you didn’t want to make him come all the way upstairs, only to turn around and leave. He’d been over to your place before, but you wanted to get going before the rain hit. 

After the fiasco that happened a few years ago, you were hesitant about going out on a date with this man. But, just like everyone else, he’d hit rock bottom and lost everything, except his son. You’d met him in the most cliché place, a coffee shop. You both were in line, waiting for your order when he accidentally bumped into you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he apologized.

You smiled at him. “It’s fine. They have us packed in here.”

You heard the barista call your name and you grabbed your coffee. You hadn’t even realized who he was until the barista called his name next. You paused for a moment and glanced at him with wide eyes. “Like the Maxwell Lord?”

He sheepishly smiled at you. “I am.” He was pleasantly surprised you hadn’t turned and run in the other direction. You walked out with him, he held the door open, and you paused to continue your conversation. 

Shaking his hand, you gave him a reassuring smile. His life had been a mess the last two years with very public court cases for his crimes. But his lawyer was able to get him off with surrendering all of his assets and doing community service for the foreseeable future. He managed to start a non for profit organization that helped people who were heavily affected by his actions, which you found so endearing. Your company just happened to be one that was partnered with his, but you never met him, only dealing with his assistants. 

You had a hard time believing the man you saw on TV, confident and determined, was this humbled man standing in front of you. You introduced yourself properly and said, “You work closely with my company, Powerhouse Symmetry,” you grinned.

“I believe I have a meeting with their CEO this afternoon to discuss the new housing project,” he added.

You chuckled and nodded. “Well good luck, I hear the CEO is a ball buster, but don’t tell her I told you.”

He smiled, and you swooned a little. “I hope to see you when I stop by.”

“I’m sure you will.” 

“Maybe I can take you to dinner afterwards.”

“We’ll see.” You gave him a small wink and walked to your job, which was only a few blocks away.

Much to his surprise, when he walked into the CEO’s office that day, he saw you sitting there waiting for your meeting. You managed to keep it light, fun, but also professional. Once business was over and the committee members left, he had asked you to dinner. That was a year ago. Now, as you waited outside your apartment complex in your sundress and sweater, you smiled to yourself at how much your relationship with him had evolved. He was nothing like the Maxwell Lord of Black Gold Cooperative. He cared about exactly three things: His son, helping others, and you. 

He pulled up in his car, helping you in before climbing back in the driver’s seat. He held your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as the two of you drove away. “You look beautiful,” he said, glancing at you when you reached a stoplight.

You smiled. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Lord.”

He chuckled.

“What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

He sighed. “Plans changed,” he said, “My ex is leaving out of town with her new boyfriend for God knows how long. So, Alistair…”

You frowned. “Oh my gosh!” you exclaimed, “are you sure you want me to go with you to go get him? I can just meet you somewhere.”

He nodded. “Alistair loves you, and my ex deserves to see how happy you make us,” he said, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You smiled and squeezed his hand. He pulled up to the front of her house, and you both climbed out. Alistair came out, by-passing his father and running straight for your arms. “You’re here!” he exclaimed. You hugged him and glanced over to Max with a grin. 

His ex-wife walked out with a man behind her, she glared at you with her arms crossed. “This your newest one?” she asked.

Maxwell straightened, glaring at her, “She’s the same one since last year, Claire.”

“Well, he’s broke,” she spat, “if you’re looking for money, find someone else and leave my son out of it.”

You stood up and crossed your arms. “I have plenty of my own money.”

“Explains why he’s with you, then.”

You and Maxwell both tensed. You didn’t owe her an explanation of your relationship. She really was a vile woman, that held nothing but contempt for her ex. And poor Alistair was caught in the middle. “We aren’t doing this in front of Alistair,” Maxwell warned.

She huffed. “I don’t know when we will be back,” she continued.

“We can take care of him,” you piped up, “right, Alistair?”

He grinned up at you. “Can we go out for pizza tonight?”

Max smiled at his son. “Of course,” he said, “anywhere you’d like!”

His ex rolled her eyes and walked back inside. Thunder rumbled across the sky as dark clouds started moving in. Alistair hopped into the back seat. You hurried into the front, waiting for Max to start the car and drive you towards your family date. Rain started pouring from the sky as you pulled into the parking lot of a small family pizza restaurant. He said he’d go inside and pick up the pizza and take you back to his place for dinner and games.

You always loved spending time with Maxwell and his son. Alistair brought out another side of him that you couldn’t get enough of. So, when you walked into his house with the father and son, you beamed at them as he picked out his favorite board game to play: Monopoly. You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. “Of course this is your favorite game,” you chuckled.

“I happen to be very good at this game,” he chided.

“I bet I’m better.”

He raised his eyebrow at you. “This might be a big test for our relationship.”

“Daddy doesn’t lose at Monopoly,” Alistair said, crossing his arms, “except one time I beat him. We didn’t play for a month.”

You laughed. “Bring it on, Lord boys.”

“Alistair, I think we need to school her in who runs this game.”

He smiled and instantly grabbed the dog playing piece. You picked the top hat, and of course, Maxwell picked the sack of money.

Right off the bat, you bought six properties. Before you knew it, you owned all Pink, Orange, and Green properties and had houses on each. “Are you going to turn them into hotels any time soon?” Maxwell asked, glaring at you.

You grinned. “I wasn’t planning on it,” you replied, rolling the dice. “Oh, yay! Free Parking!” You landed on the spot and collected the money in the middle of the board. “I don’t want you to break your bank if you land on my hotels.”

“I can’t make money on my properties without houses,” he replied.

“I guess you could say I’m monopolizing the housing market.” You and Alistair broke out into a fit of giggles and Maxwell rolled his eyes at both of you.

He gazed at you with sad eyes. “I thought you loved me.” 

You gave him a pitying stare while resting your hand on his cheek. “Maxwell, I do love you. So, get over it, it’s just Monopoly.”

He couldn’t help but smile at you as Alistair giggled. He leaned across the board and kissed you softly. “I guess I get some of the perks of being with the most powerful woman in the house,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Blehhh,” Alistair gagged, “Do you have to do this in front of me?”

Maxwell ruffled his hair and grabbed another piece of pizza. “Yes,” he said, “so you know how to properly treat a woman.”

Alistair gagged again. “Can we play another game now, since Daddy lost?”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. For the first time ever, he was happy with losing at his favorite game. He leaned across and kissed you again. You walked back into the kitchen to fix yourself another drink, when you heard Maxwell ask Alistair what other game he wanted to play. “Uno!”

You chuckled to yourself. It looked like your relationship was bound to be tested multiple times tonight. 

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[luciesbabyboy]

The Letter.

Something momma and me wrote together, the background to this is fact, the solution is pure fantasy. But OMG this was such fun to write together.

Steve came home to an empty house after 21 days working away. It had been the longest stretch working away and he was completely broken. His wife had sent him a message earlier saying she was sorry she wouldn’t be there when he got home from his flight, but not to worry she would be home at 9pm, she was just having coffee with an old friend.

He made himself a cup of tea and sat down on the sofa and flicked on the TV. His eye was drawn to the fireplace and an plain white envelope with “Darling, please read me” written in his wife’s handwriting

Having picked it up he returned to the sofa and gently prised open the envelope, his nostrils caught the sent of his wifes perfume and he smiled at the thought of her. He opened the letter and began to read.

 “Darling,

First, let me tell you how much I love you and how proud of you I am for everything you do. You make me feel so loved and our time apart is only made so much better when we are together. However, I’m really worried about you. I know you’re not telling me the whole truth about the hours you are putting in, but I know as you read this letter that you are completely destroyed mentally and physically and its will take you days to recover. But you’re not recovering, you’re surviving, you’re not eating properly, you’re not getting the sleep you need, you’re not getting any exercise, you’re waking up, going to work, eating crap to feed your depleted energy, you’re working 15 hours a day and 7 days a week and you’ve just done this for 21 days. How you’re not in hospital I really don’t know.

 What you have done at that business, is beyond remarkable, you’ve single handed built it to an extremely successful, profitable business, but you have to look after yourself. If you don’t I fear you’ll self implode. I’ve seen you when you come home from a tough period away and I can tell you’re just minutes from going down the drain. How you recover enough to face another week is beyond me.

 We need to get you back to where you were mentally and physically 4 years ago, cooking and eating great healthy food, loving life, exercising and reading....remember how you used to soak up books, almost a book every week, and we used to sit listening to classic alums on the record player. Now you just sit down and because you’re exhausted you don’t engage with much. I understand, but we used to have so much fun, we’d spend time with friends and family or just being on our own.

 I know you’re at breaking point, and I fear that any day I’m going to get a call from your work saying you’ve had a heart attack or a mental breakdown. Thats why, this week, I contacted your CEO and she agrees with me. Again she is amazed at what you have achieved for the company and the group, but she agrees that you’re on the verge. The business will cope, you’ve built the foundations, you have got the staff in there running it, you now need to step away and relax.

 So from this weekend, with your bosses blessing, you have a 10 week leave of absence. We have 10 weeks to reset you, to get you back into a mental state that gives me confidence that you’ll not kill yourself before your next birthday.

 And I know exactly how to rest you “little man” 😊

 On the other side of this letter is a 10 week program to take you back to basics, to allow your brain and body to dump all of that stress and then to slowly build you back up. You will, if you agree, give up all responsibilities and I will make sure you are looked after like the gorgeous little man you are.

 Weeks 1 & 2

                Regressed to a 9 month old. Momma will take care of your every need, she will bathe you, feed you, clothe you, read you bed time stories, cuddle you, change your nappies, love you unconditionally.

                During this period, you are not allowed to walk, talk (9 month olds can’t do either), you communicate by using your hands and either crying or babbling. Just like a little baby. You are allowed to crawl around the house, but you are to use your nappies for their true intended purpose. No phones or computers and no tv except early learning tv like sesame street and in the night garden. Early bed times and day time naps. Me feeding you with a spoon, having all your drinks in baby bottles. Millions of cuddles on the sofa.

 Weeks 3 & 4

                My little man is now a proper handful as a 2 year old: You can toddle around the house and can use big words, but you still need momma for cuddles and everything else in weeks 1 & 2. You’re still not able to use the toilet, you can watch a few more interesting things on tv and you can play with lego and cars and colour with crayons. Your food is a less babyish, and you love food time and getting all messy with eating with your hands. You need to ask momma for everything you need, even though you can reach the counter top, cookies and treats are off limits without asking. Time out on the naughty step if you get caught doing something momma has said you can’t.

 Weeks 5 & 6

                Oh my, what a cute little 3 year old you are. So independent, but so naughty, trying to do things yourself and getting into all kinds of scrapes. Momma still has to tie your shoe laces and get you dressed and you still have problems with the potty, so momma is keeping you in nappies for a little while longer. But you’re old enough now to let momma know when you need to go poopy. Where she can undo your nappy and sit you on the big boy potty and wipe your cute little bottom after, and put you in a fresh nappy. You’ll be in a lot of trouble if you forget to tell momma you need to go number two and momma will smack that poopy bottom and make you sit in a dirty nappy to remind you what a dirty boy you are. We can now watch Disney cartons together and you’re learning your abc’s and numbers so well. You still need nap times, and momma needs to still take you for a bath, but can leave you to play with your bath time toys.

 Weeks 7 & 8

                 6 months older and such a handful for this momma. You’re getting much better at potty time, so momma has decided to let you wear pull ups. You need to tell momma when you need to go potty and she will pull your trousers and pull ups down and sit you on the big plastic potty. Little boys who are potty training still need nappies at night and you’ll be wrapped up tightly in a big fluffy nappy after bath time every night. Of course I’m sure you’ll forget about needing to go potty which is why momma will constantly ask you if you need to go, however if you say no and then wet your pull ups, you can expect momma to pull those down and put you over her knee for a well earned bare botty spanking. Momma is going to be strict with you and any rule breaking will result in a red bottom and corner time. But now you’re older you can help momma bake cookies and cakes and she’ll let you lick the spoon. Lots of cuddles with my little man and you can help momma around the house. You’ll look so cute in just your Spider man pullups and dinosaur t-shirts. It makes momma’s job of checking you for wetness so much easier

 Weeks 9 & 10

                Oh my you’ve grown up and momma is getting you ready to go “back to school” You’re nearly fully potty trained with only the occasional wetting accident. So momma has gone out and bought you some proper big boy briefs. They have lots of cool designs on them. Spiderman obviously, I’ve got several pairs of them, some other marvel prints and some basic plain colours so you can feel like a big boy when we go out. Momma is still going to ask you if you need the potty, especially if she sees you doing your little potty dance. As you’re bigger now, you have lots more responsibilities, you are big enough to put away your toys after play time is over, you can read books by yourself. You help momma clean up the house and do the laundry. And you can help her big person cooking. We have put the big plastic potty away in the cupboard and now you’re using the big boy toilet all by yourself and wiping our bottom properly after poopies. Momma is so proud of your journey to being a proper little man, but understands you still get into mischief. You sometimes still have little wet accidents in your big boy pants and that means momma will turn that cute little bottom of your red and put you back in a nappy for the rest of the day as punishment. You can go the whole night without wetting your night time nappy, but momma knows you sleep more soundly having one on, so she still gets you properly wrapped up for bed every night.

So that’s it my love. I need you to be better, to get you’re head in the correct space you can be a proper functioning adult. We’re going to have so much fun over the next 10 weeks. I’ll take you to the park, we’ll go for picnics and walk the dog and feed the ducks. You’ll get an allowance to spend on sweeties at the shops if you’ve been a good boy. You’ll get to go shopping with momma and she’ll make sure your bottom is checked when we’re out for wetness.

 Now the bad news. You’re not allowed any alcohol for the whole 10 weeks. You have to do everything momma says without questions. Any breaking of my rules will result in you getting a proper hard bare bottom spanking. You are never allow to touch your nappy at any time or play with what is in it 😊 Which brings me to “Mommas needs” Obviously momma has needs, that only a grown up can provide, seeing you naked 4 or 5 times a day as I change your nappy, or bathe you, or even when I turn that tight little butt of yours over my knee will inevitably make momma hot in all kinds of places. Therefore momma is going to need you to fix this her whenever she needs to satisfy her needs. I will take you out of your nappy and you will be allowed to be a proper man, then straight after we’ll go back to our plan.

 If you agree to this plan, and giving me full responsibility for you over the next 10 weeks, just send me a text with a “Baby emoji” and the words “I’m ready momma”

Love you so much baby boy.

 Your darling wife.

 He let this sink in for a moment, and an emotional wave came over him. He felt so loved in that very moment that he started to cry, all the stress that had built up was too much for him. With tears in his eyes he reached for his phone and sent the message his wife needed to see.

 His phone immediately buzzed back with a heart emoji and 10 seconds later buzzed back again with the following message:

 “Finally and you’re not going to like this one little bit. When I get home, I want you standing in the corner in just your underwear. I want you to get a high backed chair from the dining room and place it in the middle of the lounge. You will also need to get the paddle, the hairbrush and the cane from under the bed. I know you have constantly lied to me about the hours you are doing and I know you’ve been going back into work when you said you are tucked up in bed. So I’m going to really punish you for this behaviour so you remember what happens to naughty boys who lie to me. This is not going to be a normal spanking where I turn your bottom red and then we make love afterwards. I’m going to teach you a lesson through your bottom that you will hopefully remember. If you end up sobbing and begging me to stop then I know its working, but only I will decide when the punishment is over. You will be so thankful to be put back into nappies tonight to protect a very sore bottom when you sit down over the next few days. I’m sorry baby, but I have to show you that lies and sneaking around are not good for our relationship and I’m only doing this for your own good. Love you, see you in 30 minutes. Don’t disobey me or it will 10 times worse.

[arrowverse-next-gen]

there it is again (that funny feeling) Chapter 30

She’s finally here and not strictly an AO3 link ya love to see it... but just in case

AO3

The day started off rainy in LA, Ashton didn’t mind it much. It was a lot easier to run the inside of the coffee shop than it was to run it along with the outside ordering station. She wasn’t supposed to be working alone this morning, but her help was running a little late and she figured she could handle whatever rush there might be in the morning by herself.

She hadn’t been super thrilled to work alone for the first few hours, but the alternative was not open at all and she couldn’t afford to not open right now. Her parents have been trying to sell the business again, and since she didn’t legally have ownership over it, she just had to listen to what they say. She was determined to show them that it wasn’t a waste of money and that she could profit from it. Her parents, however, were not easy to convince. They’ve owned the building since before she was born and have been trying to sell it since she graduated high school. They held off when she didn’t go to college because they didn’t have much of an argument, but there was not much stopping them from doing it now that she was older and could easily go pick out other opportunities. She already moved out of the apartment upstairs and back into the family home so that they could have potential buyers walk through whenever they wanted. She was worried things were only going to get worse from this point on.

Later in the afternoon, the sun came out and help came in. Ashton was no longer working on her own, and therefore, she was able to move from the counter for more than a few minutes at a time. She cleaned up some of the tables in the back from the morning rush, and then cleaned off the few mugs that were left uncleaned when the second rush came in and she didn’t have time to finish them all. She liked when people chose to-go orders rather than in-house orders. They take their paper cups and they leave with them. But, beggars can’t be choosers and she needed all the customers she could get.

At the end of her shift, a customer with an all too familiar face came in for a visit. Cousin Ren.

Ashton adored her cousins from a distance, most of them were boys and while that was fine, she didn’t relate to them and their problems as easily as they could relate to each other. They also looked at her as a little sister since Ren didn’t have any siblings when she was born, and Damon and Adam don’t have a sister. She might have been a few years older than Ren, but it didn’t matter. He saw her as a little sister and that fact was never going to change. She just had to accept it. And she did accept it, Ren treated her like a little sister even though he was arguably one of the youngest members of the family. Adam was born not too long after Ren, so they were both considered the babies. Damon was the oldest.

Ren came in to visit every few months, he didn’t live very far from the coffee shop so Ashton saw him the most, maybe even more than she ever saw her actual parents. He was the closest member of the family she had, so she appreciated the visits. But was always surprised when they’d happen because she never expects them.

“Ash!” He waved as he walked inside the coffee shop, the bell at the top of the door ringing at his entrance. 

Ashton put away the rag she was using to clean up and leaned forward on the order counter. “Lawrence.”

Ren put a hand to his chest, leaning back a bit to mimic being shot as he walked closer. “My government name, Ash? I thought we were friends.” He shook his head and put his hand on the counter. 

“Worse, we’re cousins.”

“How are things here?” He looked around then brought his attention back to Ashton.

Ashton rolled her eyes, Ren nodded. He knew what was going on in the background so she didn’t need to explain anything. He tapped on the counter for a few seconds then pushed himself off from it and threw his hands up. “How about we go out? Cam’s busy tonight, the boys are off doing things I want no part of. We can invite Adam and Damon.” 

Ashton watched him as he went on to make wild gestures as he spoke. She furrowed her brows when he reached the end of his sentence. “Do you know?” She stood up straight and crossed her arms.

“Do I know what?” He asked, leaning forward on the counter.

“About Adam and Damon.”

Ren raised an eyebrow, looking for a little more information. But little did he know that Ashton had the ability to see right through his act. He wasn’t a good liar and he was also the closest family member she had, so she knew when he was lying or hiding something before he could even build up the wall. 

“What’d they do?” He finally asked after a beat of silence.

“You do know.” Ashton sighed, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Did everyone know but me?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ren protested, turning to lean back on the counter instead so that his gaze could follow Ashton.

“The mess that happened in Star City a few weeks ago? You know nothing about that?”

“No!”

“Liar.” She shook her head slightly then titled it to the side. “Why was I the last to know about this?”

Ren hesitated, obviously wanting to explain. He bit his tongue, waiting to see if Ashton had any further information before fully digging that grave. She stayed silent.

“I… am aware of the context you’re talking about. However, I am not involved and therefore you cannot be upset with me for knowing.”

“Why was I the last to know?” She repeated, ignoring his defense line.

“Because you’re out here in LA. You’re not involved with any of that. My mom’s involved, both Damon and Adam’s parents are involved. We were born into it, you weren’t.”

“You just said you weren’t involved in it.”

“I’m not, but my mom is. So obviously, I would know what’s going on.” Ren continued to explain, not trying to push any buttons as he did. He didn’t want Ashton to be upset with him, he really did value the relationship they had. There was going to be drama with her finding out, which is why no one ever told her. He knew this and so did Adam and Damon.

“Wait, how did you know about what happened in Star City?” He asked after a few seconds of silence from Ashton.

“I was there for Thanksgiving.”

“Why?” He raised his brow again.

Ashton shrugged, walking back to the other side of the counter. Ren again moved his positioning so that his gaze could follow her. When she made it to the other side, she noticed the curious look on Ren’s face that said he wasn’t going to drop this question until she gave him an answer he would accept.

“I was with someone. We broke up.” 

“In Star City?” 

“Yeah, what about it?” She leaned on the counter, challenging Ren. He pushed off of the counter and stood straight in front of it. 

“Nothing.” He threw his hands up in defense, then crossed them over his chest. “Just kind of strange you’d be seeing someone from Star City if you’re all the way down here.”

“He was here with family, I met him when he came in one day, we dated for a few months, it’s not a big deal.”

“Who was it?”  Ren titled his head slightly to the left, studying Ashton so he wouldn’t miss any telling signs that she was lying.

“Quincy Lance?” She raised an eyebrow at him as if she was asking him if that was right. She knew it was.

Ren nodded, then shook his head. “I have no fucking clue who that is.” He shrugged. “I hope things didn’t end badly, though. I’d have to kill him.” 

“You’re too scared to kill a spider.” She told him. His eyes narrowed as he glared over at her. She shrugged and turned around to grab another cleaning rag so that she could hide her laughter.

“So, what do you say?” Ren ignored her laughter, leaning forward on the counter again.

“To what?” She looked at him over her shoulder.

“Let’s invite Damon and Adam out, have a conversation about why they would lie to you, and just chill. Just the four of us.”

Ashton tilted her head as she considered the offer, then nodded. She tossed the rag back down and followed Ren out of the coffee shop.

****

Q opened his eyes and was hit with the light reflecting on his dresser from the sun on the other side of the room. He had a plan to buy curtains but since he had been spending the last week on the couch, the curtains were something that he kept forgetting to pick up when he went out. He would remember now.

As his brain started to wake up, he noticed a few things: The clock on the nightstand said it was past noon, his arms were wrapped around Bethany who was still sleeping peacefully with her head tucked into him, and neither of them had a shirt on. He didn't need to mentally investigate that any further as events of the previous night started to reappear in his head. 

Though there was a pressing weight of guilt over what happened, he didn't regret it. Most of the guilt was due to the fact that Bethany was engaged. Whether or not she wanted to be engaged didn't matter. She was in a relationship and she was engaged to that person. But he knew that this was a two person game and she agreed to it as much as he did, so he couldn’t take all the blame and guilt for having done it.

Whatever guilt was leftover was entirely unnecessary and he knew that so he tried to ignore it the best he could. He wasn’t in a relationship and there was nothing and no one stopping him from doing things like this. He was an adult and he could make his own decisions. Even if those decisions lead to him sharing a bed with his engaged ex girlfriend. 

After a few minutes of silent thinking, Q tried to separate himself and Bethany without bothering her. The way they were positioned, it was never going to work without waking Bethany up in the process, but he had to try. He moved his arm slightly and she was already turning away from him. There was a moment of hesitation, hoping that she would roll over entirely and he could get out of this situation without her waking up. But a moment after she rolled over, she rolled back with open eyes.

“Hi.” Q leaned away from her towards the edge of his side of the bed. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow as she sat up, holding the blanket close to her. 

“Hi.” She replied, brushing a hand over her face to try to wake herself up. She looked at the room in front of the bed, then turned down to look at Q who was still leaning towards the edge of the bed, propped up with an elbow. “Are you okay?” She asked, her voice more curious and judging than concerned. Q nodded with no hesitation. She shook her head with a light laugh.

“What?” 

She looked forward, then down at him again. “We’re so screwed.” She laughed a little louder. “We can’t act like normal people for 5 minutes without things being awkward or sleeping together.”

“I would argue with that but it was a little awkward at the bar the other night.” Q nodded in agreement.

“And the furniture store.”

“Well…” He looked over the room before his eyes landed on Bethany again. They sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Q shrugged, sitting up beside her finally. He rested his head against the wall above the headboard. He could have sunk down a bit to lean on the headboard instead but he was committed to it now. “I just think that-”

“We had sex.” She looked at him, blinked, then faced forward again. “Not much to talk about.”

“Is that gonna hurt us?” 

“Why would it hurt us?” She eyed him but didn’t turn her head this time.

“Because friends don’t typically do this when one of them is engaged and the other is coming out of a relationship.”

“Oh, right, Ashton.” She nodded.

Q’s brows furrowed as he looked down at Bethany. She returned the gaze and gave him a shrug.

“You, uh..”

“Oh.” He faced forward again as he felt his face get warm. Bethany nodded, also turning to face forward again.

“Yeah.” 

A moment of silence went by then Bethany turned to him again. “How do you feel?”

Q shrugged. “Like we did something stupid.”

“We can call this closure.” Q turned to look at Bethany as she said it. He raised an eyebrow at her, signaling that he was going to need a little bit more information. She continued. “We’ve moved on with our lives without ever actually ending the relationship. The last thing we said to each other was that we were going to get back together. We can call this closure.”

Q nodded now, turning to face forward again. His head tilted a bit as he considered. “We feel nothing?”

“We feel nothing.” She confirmed.

“I’m good with calling it closure.” He turned to look at her. “Is this gonna fuck up your engagement?”

“I don’t care.” Her head shook. “It doesn’t matter.” She watched Q for a second as he processed what she said. Before he could speak again, she continued. “As long as we can go back to being friends with no awkwardness, I don’t care what happens with Andy.”

“I think we can manage the friend thing now. It can’t get any more awkward than this.” He gestured to the bed. Bethany nodded in agreement.

While he wasn’t sure how long the “no awkwardness” friendship was going to last, he was relieved that the morning after conversation was easy enough to handle. They’d both matured a lot since they were kids, and even though this was an expected surprise, they could handle the situation with more maturity than they had when they graduated high school. He was thankful for that. Now if only he could come up with something for Bex’s show in a few weeks.

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter Ten, George’s miscalculation 

 read on AO3 here

I do realise this is is the third thing I have put out in as many days and that kind of production level is unheard of for me haha.

This has a little bit of NSFW stuff right at the beginning of the chapter so I’m going to put it all under the read more line.

Warnings, NSFW and Overdose.

Bill slid a hand through his wife’s long silky hair as she continued to use her mouth to pleasure him. They had always enjoyed making love in the mornings, but lately Fleur had been unhappy with him and not been so receptive. But this morning she had chosen to take the initiative, and Bill was in no position to stop her, not that he ever wanted to stop his incredible witch.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, concentrating hard, it was almost a relief when she sat up gracefully and mounted him, sliding down his girth and gasping at the sensation, massaging him from the inside, he raised his hands to her breasts her ivory skin almost luminous in the pre-dawn light, sliding his roughened hands down her body to stimulate her more. She swore elegantly in French as his fingers swirled around her sweet spot, riding him a little harder. He could always tell when she was completely lost in the moment when she reverted back to her native language. He wanted control and went to flip them over but she shook her head pushing him back down stopping him. He growled a little and she laughed deeply and throatily, then gasped and swore again as he twisted his hips slightly increasing the pressure on her body. When she wanted to take charge he just had to lie back and take it and do his best to control himself so her pleasure did not end too quickly. He was having more trouble than he normally did keeping his body calm, her soft moans were getting stronger, he could feel his body winding up despite his efforts to keep control. 

“Fleur.” He gasped, letting her know he would not be able to last much longer.

“J’suis proche.” She breathed back to him, he grabbed one of her breasts roughly tweaking the nipple and he knew she was there as her hips moved with less control. “Mon amour, oh mon dieu!” The feel of her climax tipped him over the edge and he could no longer hold on, he gripped her hips in his hands as he emptied himself. She collapsed onto his chest breathing heavily.

Bill kissed the top of her head as they later rested together, her head in the crook of his shoulder, one leg lying over his.

“Not that I am complaining,” he started gently rubbing a hand along her back. “But what did I do to stop you from being cross with me?” She moved slightly so she could look up at him, her deep blue eyes sparkling.

“I have been thinking about family, about why you want to have children now. I am happy you did not tell your mother the truth about why we were having the argument”

“It’s none of their business.” He replied simply running a hand through her silvery tresses, her hair felt like liquid as it slipped quickly through his fingers.

“As you say,” She agreed. “perhaps I have been selfish to think that a baby would spoil what we have. I love our house. The life we have together. I do not want to stop being me, just yet.”

“You made that clear to me my love, and I understand. I was being unreasonable to expect you to stop working and start a family straight away. If you want to wait I am okay with that.”

“Merci my love, but I am not sure that I do want to wait for much longer. When I saw Teddy my heart just melted for that sweet child.”

“You really want us to start trying?” His heart leapt at the thought but he tried to keep the hope out of his voice. Her reasons to wait had been perfectly valid, and his assumptions had been more than a little behind the times. When she had stormed off to Hogwarts to see her friend, leaving him angry and confused, and more than a little bit jealous. It had been a bit of a wake-up call for him. He remembered his siblings as children, had helped his mother with looking after them, and he had always assumed that all witches wanted to have children as soon as they were married. Of course, they had not wanted to while there was such darkness in the world, but when they were finally free to live again it had been top on his list of priorities. It had been until he told his wife this.

“Perhaps not trying. Perhaps no longer preventing?” He understood her meaning and felt it was something he definitely could be on board with. He loved the time he had to spend just the two of them, but he also missed the joy and madness of a house full of children. He kissed her deeply letting her know how happy he was that she had changed her mind. 

 *

  Harry and Ron had been so busy the last few months leading up to christmas, actually being told to stop and take a break had been quite a shock for them. Keeping busy had been something they could both focus on, but it was nice to have Hermione and Ginny home for a while.

They all knew how difficult Christmas was going to be this year, difficult in completely different ways for each of them. Harry and Hermione hadn’t even had a Christmas last year, they had both been rather shaken up from their visit to Godric’s Hollow to even care what day it was. Ron himself had been too filled with guilt and remorse that day to think about anything past his missing friends, until he had heard his name from the deluminator and found another level of determination and purpose. He wanted to make this one a bit more special for all of them. 

He was planning to leave Hermione’s house early on the Monday before Christmas, they had got up and had breakfast together but he insisted he needed to go to Diagon Alley alone. There had been no point pretending he was doing anything other than Christmas shopping, it wouldn’t have taken Hermione’s brains to figure that out. 

“So do I get any clues as to what you are buying me this year?” Hermione asked as they sat at the kitchen table at her parent’s house, she was wearing casual muggle trousers she had called leggings with a giant jumper that was almost as long as a dress, and thick fluffy knitted socks. One foot was resting on the seat of her chair and she was half hugging her leg as she read the profit. He had glanced at the headline when the owl had delivered it, but knew if there was anything significant he needed to know, his girlfriend would tell him. He was already wrapped up against the cold December air, his Gryffindor scarf wound tightly around his neck and party obscuring his face. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head fondly. 

“And spoil the surprise?” He chuckled. “Let me know something my girlfriend doesn’t for a little while longer.” She pulled his head down to give him a proper kiss, moving his scarf out of the way. 

“Don’t be all day, I will miss you.” He cleared his throat at her suggestive tone, and considered shopping another day, but he had made arrangements with and he couldn't change them now. 

What she didn’t know was that his Christmas shopping was already done and he was planning on spending the day organising something special for the family with George. He had been trying his best to spend more time with his closest brother. George was working too hard, and drinking too much, especially now that Angelina had started her new job and was spending a lot of her time away from him. George kept trying to play down his relationship but Ron knew how much he missed her when she was not around. Ron had been helping in the shop when his Auror training would allow it, he could now create many of the products that sat on the shelves without any trouble at all. George had actually been impressed with how quickly he had picked up the somewhat tricky recipes. He had told him without any hint of sarcasm.

The air was crisp and cold as Ron made his way towards the joke shop from the leaky caldron, frost still clung to the fabric awnings and shaded corners of the cobbled street, his breath fogging the air. It had taken him longer to leave Hermione’s house than he had originally planned. They had showered together for an exquisitely long time that morning. 

As he walked along the colourfully decorated streets still thinking about how wonderful his girlfriend was, he stopped at a little bakery and bought a couple of bacon rolls for himself and his brother, who no doubt was still asleep and would have nothing in his kitchen apart from coffee and fire whiskey. Biting into his own snack he continued on his short journey.

The brightly painted shop caught the eye from a distance and Father Christmas in his reindeer pulled sleigh was still whizzing around the shop window. Snow was falling from the roof of the building and disappearing as soon as it landed on the pavement. The effect of the whole thing was brilliant. Portable snow was another new product that George had perfected. Ron suppressed a slight agitation as the lock did not open as he placed his hand on the doorknob. George had said he would add him to the building security, but not yet it seemed. Taking his wand he muttered the password at the lock and heard it click. The door chimed Ho Ho Ho as he entered but apart from that the shop was eerily quiet without the noise of customers. Snow fell inside too but only on the large Christmas tree that dominated the centre of the shop it’s branches decorated with an array of products. Remembering to lock the door behind him he took the stairs two at a time. 

“George!” He yelled opening the flat’s front door. “Hey, George get up you lazy arse I’ve got you some breakfast.” The paper bag dropped to the floor as he saw the body of his brother lying face down behind the sofa. 

  *

                   Harry was enjoying himself this morning, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks, due to the positive influence of Ginny. He was sitting on his new broom wrapped up against the cold watching her fly. It had been so long since he had flown, the long summer they had spent together seemed ages ago. Of course then they had been able to fly in just shorts and t-shirt but now it was definitely warm jumpers hats and scarves weather and the bulky clothing was restricting his movement. He had been tempted to take off his coat more than once but he was not working hard enough to stay warm without it, and a warming charm would more than likely overheat him the way he was feeling right now. He had only stopped to grab a drink, but he couldn’t take his eyes from watching Ginny. She always looked amazing on a broomstick, she was fast, confident, and graceful. He knew he had flying skills of his own but he had not been practicing like she had. She was flying rings around him today, literally. She was laughing as she pulled her broomstick up beside him and deftly caught the water bottle he threw at her. They were hovering over the paddock at the back of the Burrow. The air was crisp but still, a hard frost still covered the ground, the winter sun was barely above the horizon. He manoeuvred his broom a little closer so he could wrap his arm around her. 

“You are flying brilliantly,” He told her honestly, kissing her temple. “I was struggling to keep up with you. I am so out of practice.”

“And here I was thinking you were going easy on me.” She laughed. “Hopefully we can convince everyone else to play when they are all here later.” He nodded his agreement, then before she was ready shot off towards the other side of the paddock. Before he was even half way there she had caught up, her hair streaming behind her as she beamed at him. He considered his options for a split second before Ginny decided for him and turned her broom sharply cutting his path, he barely managed to change his direction in time. He was about to give chase again when a silver flash and Ron’s jack Russell was running around his head. 

“George is at St Mungo’s please come, bring mum, tell everyone!” Ron’s voice had sounded calm but his agitation was evident by the behaviour of his patronus before it vanished. They wasted no time in discussing with each other what could have happened, they both dived for the ground, Ginny running into the house while Harry put their brooms away quickly. He rushed inside when he heard Mrs Weasley cry out in shock. Ginny had an arm around her mother’s shoulders and was leading them to the fireplace. 

“Can you go get Dad from work? I will call everyone else from the hospital.” He nodded at her and watched them walk into the green flames before running back outside and apparating to the ministry. 

  *

  Angelina stumbled out of the floo at St Mungo’s and would have fallen on the floor if not for a strong hand grabbing her elbow until she could catch her balance. 

“Thanks.” she said politely then recognised the green eyes staring back at her and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back a little awkward with this rather tactile greeting. She usually enjoyed putting her old teammate off balance but this was not the time, she just needed a hug. “I came as soon as I could. I've been worried sick. What happened? Can I see him?” Harry opened his mouth to answer but stepped aside as he spotted someone else approaching.

“Angelina!” Ginny yelled and barrelled into her hugging her fiercely. “Come on he was asking for you.” She grabbed her hand and pulled her towards one of the wards walking quickly. Harry took her bag and followed without a word. “The bloody idiot’s been taking the draft of peace to help him sleep, he mixed it with fire whiskey last night. If Ron hadn’t been going to see him I don’t know what would have happened.” She explained then started grumbling under her breath muttering more insults to her brother’s intelligence, anger flushing her cheeks. If Ginny was this angry with her brother it was doubtful he was still seriously hurt. “They revived him and pumped his stomach. The healers say he will have to stay in for a few days until his levels are properly balanced, whatever that means.” She stopped for a moment and turned her attention on Angelina. “Did you know he was self medicating? He brewed his own potion, it’s supposed to be taken under medical advice. He made it far too strong.” She closed her eyes for a moment, the fear for her brother coming to the surface. “Why could I not see? I should have helped him more.” 

 “I didn’t know he was taking it, I promise. We enjoy a few drinks when we spend evenings together but it is never to the point of passing out, nothing stronger than beer.” She looked at her friends kindly. Harry was now holding Ginny as if she would fall if he didn’t, she accepted his embrace without comment resting her head on his chest. Angelina suppressed a pang of jealousy for their relationship, they were so openly in love it was sweet. However it was hard to watch when you were desperately in love yourself and having to hold it back for fear of rejection. “You didn’t see it, because he didn’t want you to. He is stubborn with his grief.” She didn’t add that every Weasley she knew was equally stubborn but catching Harry’s eye she knew he had caught the unsaid sentiment.

Angelina saw the crowd of redheads up ahead and knew that George would be behind the one door on this stretch of corridor. They were all looking towards it in concern as they huddled together. Ron was sitting on a flimsy hospital chair, his hands laced behind his bowed head. Hermione sat beside him rubbing his back in a way that said she had been trying to comfort him for a while with little success. Everyone else was standing around, Fleur was comforting Molly in a very role reversal way holding her close and rubbing her back. Arthur was off to one side speaking with a tall wizard dressed in the unmistakable robes of a healer, Percy stood by his father's side paying close attention to what was being said. Bill stood as if on guard by the door his arms crossed his wand in his hand. Ginny walked her past them all. 

“He kicked us all out.” Bill stated going to stop their progress, Ginny just glared up at her oldest brother who actually shyed back slightly at her look. Angelina was always amazed at how easily the tiny form of Ginny could overpower her brothers with nothing more than her presence and a glare. Bill seemed to be weighing his options before he shrugged and stood aside, “Well don’t blame me if he throws things at you, I gave you fair warning.” 

“He won’t kick me out.” Angelina said confidently. “If he tries I will kill him myself.” Ginny gave her another hug and opened the door, letting her go on alone.

The room she entered was quiet, George’s was the only occupied bed, the other was stripped to the bare mattress. He was propped up on pillows with a tube running from his arm up to a bag containing clear liquid. His eyes were closed but she knew he was awake, his right hand would occasionally move or twitch with his constant nervous energy. The only time she knew he was ever completely still was when he was sleeping. She moved to stand at the foot of his bed. He looked pale under his freckles, his cheekbones were more prominent than she remembered the last time she had seen him. His hair was getting long and it looked unwashed, she wondered if he had eaten a proper meal since she had left.

“You know there are less dangerous ways to get my attention. If you wanted to see me you should have just Owled.” She told him firmly placing hands on hips. 

“Angie?” He croaked, his voice a bare whisper, his eyes staying closed. “Are you really there? I have been dreaming of you. You can’t be here, you should be in Montrose. I am not worth losing your new job. This is nothing, just a little miscalculation.”

“I always knew you were a fool but I did not think you were a bloody idiot too.” She had not taken a step closer to the bed, her feet felt like lead. She disliked hospitals greatly, unfortunately it was an inevitable part of Quidditch, and hospitals always reminded her of her mother’s battle and its eventual inevitable end. She had been only thirteen when she lost her mum, a difficult time for her and her dad, especially trying to cope with a confused girl going through puberty. Fred and George had cheered her up without ever knowing they were doing it, their friendship had been so important to her growing up. It had meant the most that first September after her mother’s passing.

Fred had always been the more confident twin, although few had ever bothered to notice, he had asked her out for the Yule ball. They’d had a great time together and had shared a few kisses, but the rest of the time he spent it telling her how great George would be for her, and she had silently agreed with him. George had never asked her out, he had just watched her with his big puppy dog eyes when he thought she was not paying attention. Any time she thought he would finally ask her, Fred would start to flirt outrageously, making her laugh, and his brother would back off with a sigh. It had been like that the whole time they were at school. Then one day last April, when everything was getting really frightening he had turned up at her door and they had connected in a way they never had before and started snogging right there without the need for words. Perhaps it was the fear of possibly dying tomorrow that they had ended up in bed perhaps that had just been an excuse, either way she would never regret it. “I thought we were just casual anyway, just a bit of fun you said.” She didn’t want him to know how deeply her feelings truly ran. She was terrified he would back off and shut her out. She alone fully knew how much he was hurting, how much he was refusing to admit to even himself that he was. She hoped that this would be a wakeup call for him to accept the help of his amazing family, to admit to himself he was not okay. 

“Oh Angie, if only you knew how much you mean to me. I’ve liked you for so long. Fred said I should not waste a day, if I liked you I should tell you. Why can’t I do that?” She went to answer him and convince him she really was standing right there but he continued to speak. “It’s not me you want, not really. Fred’s gone so I am the runner up prize.” The bitterness in that statement was unquestionable. 

“Blind as well as stupid.” She murmured, finally moving to his bedside. “I like you, I have always liked you. I miss Fred too, but he was my friend. It’s you I want to be with.” She took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. His eyes fluttered open as she did so, the arm without a tube in it tried to hug her.

“You really are here?” He breathed. “I love you.” She could not stop the grin that spread over her face at his words. 

“You have a funny way of showing it.” She scolded mildly before kissing him again. “I love you too and if you ever try to kill your self again I will kill you.” 

“It was a mistake, I don’t want to kill myself.” He slid the back of his hand against her cheek. “Why is it so difficult to be taken seriously? I try so hard to be okay, it’s exhausting. When I go to bed I don’t sleep, not without a little help, I thought it couldn’t hurt. Instead I have hurt everyone, including myself.” 

“You had me worried sick you bastard.”

“The healer who treated me wants me to come in regularly. I am going to do it. Fred would be very upset if I worked myself to death, even if it was to keep our dream alive.”

“Fred would want you to be happy.”

“I know, but I never thought I would have to be happy without him.” She kissed him again more gentle this time, and pressed her forehead to his. 

“When my mum died so many people would say to me. She’s not really gone as long as you continue to love and remember her. I tried to believe it but most of the time I thought it was bullshit. But then when we won the house cup in fifth year and everyone was so happy. I thought I felt her there with me, for just a moment. It will never go away, but it gets easier to carry, and sometimes you have to let others help you too.”

“I will, I promise.” His eyes were a little bloodshot but they looked at her with such sincerity she knew it was true. They were going to be better together, there was a long way to go but he was definitely headed down a better path. 

 *

  Charlie floo’d home from the international port key department to find an empty house. 

“Mum? Dad?” He called to no reply. His concerns started to grow as he saw the abandoned mugs of tea still sitting on the kitchen table. His mother would never leave dishes unwashed. He walked to his mother’s clock, every hand apart from his own was pointing at St Mungo’s. “Fuck.”

Dropping his bag in the middle of the kitchen he Apparated right there. He rushed over to the welcome witch who gave him a practiced smile. “My family is here. Where are they?”

“Do you know the patient's name sir?”

“Weasley.” He yelled

“Charlie?” Bill strode over to his brother and pulled him into a hug. “Sorry, with all the commotion, I forgot you were getting in today.”

                  “Who is it? What’s happened?” Charlie asked, still panicked despite how calm Bill appeared to be. Bill always appeared calm.

“It’s George but he’s okay, more embarrassed about it all if I’m honest” the taller brother laid his arm across the shorter’s broad shoulders and led him to a set of chairs. “We have all been busy with our own shit we didn’t notice how much he’s been struggling to cope. He overdosed on a very potent brewing of the draft of peace. Ron found him, he’s been keeping a closer eye on George and helping him out in the shop as much as he can. It could’ve been worse, he was only comatose for a few hours.”

“At least one of us is looking out for the rest.” Charlie stated glumly. Bill looked at him sharply.

“Hey! That’s not fair. He has been very good at pretending to be okay, and it’s not like any of us are coping much better. Losing Fred, I still can’t believe he is actually gone, I half expect him to appear one day claiming it was all an elaborate prank.” Charlie snorted at that. 

“Pretty poor taste.” Was all he said and Bill nodded his agreement. They sat in silence for a moment. Charlie wanted to go see George and the rest of the family but something about Bill’s body language made him stay and wait. Bill and Charlie had always kept in close communication, the only person he perhaps conversed with more with was Ginny because she always had all the news from everybody else, and she never criticised his life choices like he knew their mother would. Bill had always been his confidant, his adviser, the first time he’d ever got drunk it had been with his big brother, true it had been Bill's fault. Likewise it had been him who had first heard about Fleur and his nerves about introducing her to the family.

“It’s so good to see you, I miss you.” Bill spoke up eventually, Charlie just nodded. They were not the type to delve into deep and emotional conversations, for them this was the equivalent of holding on each other and weeping.

“It is not easy to be so far away from you all, especially right now, but I love my work, and I know I would not be any help if I hung around at home. I just don’t feel like I fit there anymore.”

“I admit I found it difficult living there when I came back from Egypt. Even more so when Fleur moved in too. Having our own space has really helped. Don’t guilt yourself into coming back. George is as fine as he can be considering. We are all going to take better care in looking out for him, and he has promised to get professional help. Your heart is in Romania, with your dragons, even mum and dad know that. Come on, I will take you to see everyone else, I have been hogging your company for too long.”

Everyone was pleased to see Charlie. They crowded around him like the long lost relative he was, even George managed to brighten up at his brother’s arrival. Everyone apart from Ron who was still sitting with his head in his hands when Charlie sat beside him. 

“Cheer up Ronnie, you didn’t put him here.” Charlie said as brightly as he could muster.

“Didn’t I?” Ron stated glumly. “If I hadn’t been selfish last night and stayed over at George’s instead of my…” He paused looking around for their mother, seeing she was out of earshot he continued but still kept his voice low. “My girlfriend’s. He wouldn't be here now.”

“True he wouldn't be now. But who’s to say what would have happened another day? Unfortunately this was bound to happen eventually and what if it was a day nobody visited? You were there to save him Ron, he’s going to get the help he needs.”

“I suppose you are right.” He agreed glumly.

“Of course I am. Now go and see Georgie so he can say thank you for saving his life.” Ron managed a weak smile at that and got up to speak to George.                  

[her-culture]

2021 and the Rise of Shopping BIPOC, LGBTQI+, Small, and Womxn-Owned

Now more than ever, a collective way of life has been prioritized: shopping from small businesses, particularly those owned by the marginalized. The reason? A mix of a few things, like that of the coronavirus pandemic putting small businesses in every industry in an increasingly vulnerable spot, the rising importance of the Black Lives Matter movement, and the collective awareness of how capitalism has contributed to the downfall of so many communities.

When the pandemic hit, a lot of folks were down on their luck financially. They needed whatever avenue of income they could find to help keep them on their feet, which resulted in them opening small businesses selling their art, jewelry, and more. Shopping small and dining locally was also one of the main efforts done by the collective to ensure community staples wouldn’t have to shut down due to the lack of revenue and financial support throughout the pandemic. 

During the height of BLM last summer, one of the ways that folks rallied together to give aid and support to different mutual aid funds, bail funds, and BLM funds was by selling homemade items and giving 100% of the proceeds to these different organizations. With this, there have been threads on Twitter and infographics on Instagram sharing different black-owned small businesses so that folks could directly support the black community.

It’s interesting to see how the rise of social media networks helped pave the way for this, too. Instagram and Facebook both have sections where anyone can sell their products - Facebook marketplace has everything from new and used cars, clothing, furniture, jewelry, and so much more. Instagram (though widely criticised) has updated their formatting so that anyone who uses their platform to sell items gets boosted in ads, and their shopping section is easier to find. Instagram is most accessible for businesses because they don’t charge a service fee like other sites (Etsy, Shopify, etc.) - 100% of the profits goes right back to the shop owner.

Social media sites like TikTok and Twitter have assisted this wave as well. “It costs $0 to retweet my art/business” tweets go viral almost daily, and TikTok itself is filled with trends small businesses love to use to help boost their brand on the algorithm. More recently, brands of all kinds started doing “pack an order with me” TikToks to add a more personalized feel to their business, where consumers get excited to see if their order is one of the ones that gets packaged on the ForYouPage.

Shopping small and from the folks who could use the support most is an incredible way of how community works. It directly supports the dreams and efforts of the folks who put their all into what they make. If it is possible for you, I encourage you to try to shop small and from BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color), LGBTQI+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, and more), and womxn-owned spots instead of larger corporations. Aiding in the journeys of the folks who took a chance on themselves and started their small business could change everything for them - every dollar could unlock a world of chance.

For those who are interested, here’s a list of a few small businesses (organized by business type) that you can check out and support!

Lifestyle:

Nguyen Coffee Supply - This Vietnamese coffee company was founded by Sahra Nguyen, a first-generation Vietnamese-American who set out to teach about the true quality and production of coffee beans in Vietnam. Partnering with a fourth-generation farmer in Central Valley back in Vietnam, they provide ethically sourced coffee beans to folks worldwide. To purchase Nguyen Coffee or learn more about their efforts, you can shop at https://nguyencoffeesupply.com/ and visit their social media sites @nguyencoffeesupply.

Hungry Bunny - A black, womxn-owned business, this virtual donut shop started in March 2020 as a result of the coronavirus pandemic by Khloe Hines. All products are vegan and cruelty free, not using any dairy, eggs, or yeast! To place orders visit their website https://www.hungrybunnyict.com/ and support their social media @hungrybunny.

Hood Herbalism - A center for learning, this community herbal education project is perfect for BIPOC folks wanting to learn about the benefits of herbalism and how to incorporate it into their lives. Courses range from the basics of herbalism to herbal medicine works for birth support. They offer online courses with payment plans, accommodations, and scholarship funds to support those in need! This project space is intended for BIPOC folks, as herbal schools are predominantly white. To donate to their project or enroll in classes, visit https://hoodherbalism.com/ and follow their social media at @hoodherbalism.

Indigescuela - This BIPOC-led space is dedicated to teaching womxn and folks about intentional healing through the avenues of holistic sexual health, womb health, and traditional healing. Using the knowledge and practices of herbalism, Mexican folk healing, and Mesoamerican medicine, Panquetzani (also the foundress of Indigemama: Ancestral Healing) leads students to finding the healing answers they need to lead as their best selves. The courses range in topics from lifelong self-womb care and womb wellness. To enroll in the online distance courses, head to https://indigescuela.com/ and support their social media at @indigescuela.

Bookstores:

Nā Mea Hawai’i - Meaning all things to do with Hawai’i, Native Books is a space created to share Hawaiian culture through education. If you are based in Hawai’i, or have the opportunity to visit post-pandemic, this is definitely a place to stop by! They support local artisans of all kinds in efforts to uplift their community and all that the Islands have to offer. They have dedicated their space to sharing this knowledge, education, and experiences to all who stop by, virtually and in-person. Shop their website https://www.nativebookshawaii.org/ and follow them @na_mea_hawaii.

Raven Reads - This bookstore is indigenous and womxn-owned, which began as an effort to share history and inspire folks as a result of what residential schools did to the indegnous communities in Canada, where languages and ways of life were washed away over the years. They offer collection boxes for children and adults, where each season a curated box will be sent to you filled with Indegenous works. To shop, support, and learn more, their website is https://ravenreads.org/ and their social media is @raven_reads.

Strong Nations - The online retailer is centered around idigenous literature and art, where their products range from children’s toys to classroom materials and, of course, literature. They are also a publishing house, offering a range of services for those interested. They also offer a wide variety of bundles in different categories! Each item on their shop has a badge on it to signify if it is indegnous art, a Canadian product, or indegnous text. If you are looking for indenous literature or works of different kinds, materials for your classroom, and more, stop by https://www.strongnations.com/ or @strong_nations.

Marcus Books - The first black-owned bookstore in the nation, Marcus Books is filled with history and the desire to educate and make space for black folks and all allies. Their goals of using literature to educate and unite communities has served folks in and around the San Francisco Bay Area (based in Oakland, CA) and nationwide through their online store. They have books for all ages in every genre by an array of black and latinx authors. To support, their website is https://bookshop.org/shop/marcusbooks or visit their social media @marcus.books.

Loving Me Books - A black and womxn-owned shop, Angela Nesbitt created this online bookstore to promote self-love amongst children of all races and backgrounds. Books are available for all age ranges and in a variety of languages! They also sell children’s clothing and accessories. There is a section for adult books, as well! Check out https://www.lovingmebooks.com/ and @lovemebooks for your next book.

Skincare:

Alma Bella - Meaning “beautiful soul” in Spanish, this womxn-owned skincare business is the epitome of self care with a cause. Creator Hannah Bahls, based in Washington state, handmakes this heavenly coco cream and redistributes 100% of the net profit to different BIPOC-led social justice funds. With more products coming soon, they prioritize organic, ethically sourced and traded, and natural ingredients. Each month, she chooses a new organization to give the proceeds to. To learn more about Alma Bella, their product and mission, head over to https://alma-bella.square.site/ or their Instagram @almabellanourish to learn more about how they emphasize self and community care.

HanaHana Beauty - Sustainable, clean beauty that uplifts womxn of color. All products are made with natural ingredients and oils, like fair-trade shea butter. They source their shea butter from the Katariga Women’s Shea Cooperative in Ghana. The black and womxn-owned shop includes body butters, bars, lip balms, and exfoliating cleansers. To buy, head to their site https://hanahanabeauty.com/ and follow at @hanahana_beauty.

BrownSugga Beauty - Black owned, vegan beauty for all skin types. Offering a variety of products from sugar scrubs to oil serums, body butters and soap bars, the New Orleans based online business is your one-stop-shop for healing and maintaining beautiful, healthy skin. Shop now at https://brownsuggabeautycompany.com/ and follow them at @brownsuggabeauty_.

Haípažaža pĥežúta - Meaning “medicine soap” in Lakota, this indegnous-owned skin care from Lakota folks sells soaps and herbal products nationwide. They utilize organic ingredients harvested from the homelands as well as fair-trade ingredients from across the world to create healthy, intentional products. The products range from soaps, shampoos, rubs, perfumes, bath bombs, scrubs, and more. (They even offer refills of some of these products)! To purchase, find them at https://www.haipazazaphezuta.com/ and @haipazaza.

Beauty:

Live Tinted - Founded by Deepica Mutlaya, Live Tinted is a brand dedicated to inclusion and diversity within the beauty industry. They use their platform to highlight multicultural beauty - giving space to voices and stories of those often underrepresented in the industry. Their products range from ethically sourced merchandise, huesticks, and gorgeous illuminators. Take a peek for yourself at https://www.livetinted.com/ and @livetinted on their different social media platforms.

Sahi Cosmetics - This small, family-owned cosmetics company has been taking the beauty industry by storm. Founder Shelly Sahi started Sahi cosmetics as a way to change the beauty standards we have become accustomed to after growing up feeling like her Indian skin wasn’t beautiful enough and always had trouble finding products that matched her complexion. Committed to their clean beauty promise, all of their products are cruelty and paraben free, with vegan friendly ingredients. An array of makeup and innovative products and ideas that will surely leave you obsessed! They also offer some clothing merchandise as well. Check them out at select retailers, their website https://sahicosmetics.com/ and their social media @sahicosmetics.

Queltzin Cosmetics - An indegenous-owned beauty brand specializing in fake lashes, all of their products are named after Aztec gods and goddesses as well as Nahuatl words to honor and educate folks about their indegenous heritage. Aside from lashes and lash tools, they offer some apparel and makeup accessories and tools, as well. Shop at https://queltzincosmetics.com/ and visit them at @queltzincosmetics.

Sweet Street Cosmetics - A Latina/womxn-owned cosmetics company that honors the around-the-way aesthetic. This brand was built by Natalia Durazo and LaLa Romero, who also co-founded the clothing company Bella Doña. their brand honors the beauty strides made by womxn of color and celebrates all the uniqueness and individuality that comes with it. Their products include a highly praised liquid liner, lip duos, eyeshadows, and lashes. Shop now at https://www.sweetstreetcosmetics.com/ and follow them @sweetstreetcosmetics.

Clothing: 

Wasi Clothing - A Quechuan word meaning “hope,” Wasi is a brown-owned Bolivian-American clothing company founded and run completely by Vanessa Acosta. This business is dedicated to ethical and sustainable products and processes, as well as diverse representation in the fashion world. Their products are unique and there truly is something for everyone here, as their shop includes everything from clothing to accessories to accessories and prints! You can shop their website at https://wasiclothing.com/ and follow at @wasiclothing.

OXDX Clothing - Diné owned label, this indegnous brand offers merchandise to represent Native peoples and honor their experiences. Their mission includes preserving culture to art, clothing, creative content and storytelling. Their shop has unique pieces of clothing, art, and stickers. Shop at https://www.oxdxclothing.com/ and support them at @oxdxclothing.

Ginew - That Native-owned denim line honors the founders’ Ojibwe, Oneida, & Mohican heritage through the materials and concepts utilized to create their products. Their shop ranges from denim products (jackets, jeans, etc.) as well as unique jewelry, bandanas, and more. Shop all things Ginew on their website https://ginewusa.com/ and follow at @ginew_usa.

Art: 

Hafandhaf - This Pakistani-born and Detroit raised artist uses her South Asian and Muslim roots to create art that reflexts her experinces and the life around her. She uses her background studying the Quran and Arabic and incorporates it into her work. She offers commissions, as well as prints. Many of her pieces were turned into other merchandise, like clothing, mugs, stickers, and accessories. To shop, visit https://hafandhaf.com/ and follow their social media @hafandhaf.

Adinas Doodles - Kichwa artist Adina Farinango creates Kichwa diasporic art. In hopes to heal and reclaim her Kichwa roots and her identity as an idigenous womxn, her art is a form of resistance. Her one of a kind art is available in prints, stickers, and on totes! Shop https://www.adinafarinango.com/ and follow @adinasdoodles.

Accessories: 

BRWNGRLZ - The Pinay-owned jewelry company specializes in laser cut pieces that represent and honor Pilipinx heritage and brown pride. These unique, astounding pieces are only found at BRWNGRLZ. This space honors the stories of Pilpinx-identify folks while uplifting the voices of BIPOC folks everywhere. To support and shop, visit www.brwngrlz.com/ and follow at @brwngrlz.

Customized by Angelisa - Polynesian-owned customizable shop that does everything from trays to accessories! This shop is perfect for customized gifts and pieces for your space! Angelisa’s shop has rolling and coffee trays, resin jewelry, keychains, tumblers, and music player plaques. To shop and customize your own pieces, head to https://www.etsy.com/shop/customizedbyangelisa/ and @cbangelisa.

Spirituality:

Stari Agency - Run by Yakari Gabriel, Stari Agency is an Afro-Latina business regarding all things astrology. Yakari offers birth chart readings, transit readings, and follow ups. She aims to help you heal and learn more about you as you navigate your life’s journey. To book and learn more about these services, you can visit https://stariagency.com/ and @stariagency.

The Woke Mystix - Podcasters and authors Ellen and Imani create space for folks to find themselves in astrology, spirituality, and divinity. This WOC-owned business co-wrote Astrology SOS: An astrological survival guide to life, which releases on March 2, 2021. To listen to their podcast and learn more about their work, check out https://www.thewokemystix.com/ and @thewokemystix.

Dian Tala Crystals - This Filipinx-womxn owned crystal shop was created in hopes of offering affordable and accessible means of crystals and their healing properties. In efforts to offer exploration into intuition and personal guidance, this shop holds a variety uniquely cut crystals while teaching followers the properties of each. All funds go directly to the owner’s tuition, as well as direct relief funds to their family’s provinces when the recent typhoon hit the Philippines. To shop and support, follow their Instagram shops @diantalacrystals and @diantalasales.

Farial Eliza (she/her) is a twenty-one year old Bay Area native, occupying unceded Chochenyo Ohlone land. She is a writer, poet, creator, storyteller, self-proclaimed healer and educator to the communities she serves.

[fletchphoenix]

Fruitless Exploration

Hi gamers! This is Chapter 1 of my newest project ‘The Rise And Fall Of Ulla Ruddiger’! I love love love Ulla so much and wanted to try my hand at explaining some key points in her life. Don’t worry - the coffee shop AU is still happening, but this will too alongside it! Hope you enjoy!

Word Count : 4994

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Since the beginning, she’d always been an odd child. Ginger hair that covered most of her back was unkempt and left to be as wild as it wanted, her electric blue eyes always darting around each and every environment she was in to take it all in and assign to a slot in her memory. Faint, mocha freckles were dotted all over her - hands, face, legs..you name it, there were probably freckles there. Her small figure was admittedly an inconvenience, preventing her from doing many things, however it had the potential to be a useful asset too, the fact that she could move quicker than her taller peers was a feat she was rather proud of. She knew she wasn’t the conventionally attractive person too, with all these features combined with her manic personality, ever changing depending on the person and boom! You had a whole cocktail of weird in front of you when it came to Ulla.

  No one ever hesitated to let her know that she was weird all throughout her childhood either. Being the socially inept girl she was, it only made it easier for the other kids to target her. Countless days had ended with her appearing home with new cuts and bruises, or water tipped over her by the other kids. It was relentless bullying, looking back on it. She never let it get to her though -  she just did what she always did! She pretended it didn’t phase her whatsoever. Just kept moving forward and ignoring it. No matter how many times they’d try and hurt her, she’d just ignore them. They’d try to hurt her by calling her weird, but she knew she was weird - and she liked being weird. In her eyes, she wasn’t hurting anyone by being weird, so she’d keep going and doing her own thing. 

  Maybe that's why, at such a young age, she got into alchemy along with her twin brother, Ulf. She never had to worry about having free time to spend with friends, since she never had any, unlike her twin. That’s probably why she was better at the subject - Ulf was always so concerned with his social life, but not her. All she needed was her alchemy. It was the perfect outlet for her too - delicate processes requiring all the attention in the world, as one drop could throw off the course of the whole experiment. She excelled, surpassing her brother in the subject and going on to research it further in the future, with Demanitus as her main idol, taking inspiration from all his inventions.

  As they grew older, Ulf drifted towards the engineering side of science like their mother did. Ulla, however, stayed on course and obsessed over alchemy. She finally felt as though she were contributing something to the world with her experiments - creating small helping hands around the house for various different problems. For example, she created something she liked to call ‘Shampoo’, this enriching the hair and providing it with necessary nutrients for growth rather than just water. And it worked! As a first individual project, she thought she’d done pretty well! That put her on the radar as a young teen, selling her creations to other people to assist them, and even commissioning for certain projects. 

  No one in their town really understood her love of the subject, but they understood how well it benefited them. Suddenly, they had access to smoother hair, cleaner clothes, pain relief...which meant Ulla profited greatly and used her funds to keep expanding her knowledge, purchasing book after book after book. It did feel awfully lonely though, only finding solace in books rather than humans. She used to beg and plead every night for someone, anyone, who knew and had the same passions as her would just spontaneously materialise in town for her to talk to. To her luck, as if her prayers had finally been answered, Donella had arrived in town,

  She must’ve met Donella when they were simply teenagers - thirteen or fourteen, the grey haired girl well beyond her years in terms of maturity. She was strikingly pale, her grey hair making her look as though she were in her late thirties, though she was only a few months older than Ulla. Her green eyes were calculating, figuring out a person’s deepest insecurity as soon as they entered her line of sight. She was unbelievably tall and skinny too, having at least four inches over Ulla and her figure was extremely defined in the clothes she wore almost every day. They were polar opposites, but they made it work in their favour. They balanced each other out really, her eccentricity and over-energetic nature combined with Donella’s maturity and normality helped them tremendously throughout their time together and they soon became a force to be reckoned with. It was refreshing to find someone who was just like her - with the same passion towards alchemy and Demanitus’ inventions, and someone her age who understood her and didn’t ridicule her whatsoever. She never knew anyone like her - maybe that’s why they grew so acquainted with each other in only a few weeks.

  She was bitter at first towards Ulla, constantly viewing her as inferior knowledge-wise and that she was “just like the other kids in town” which couldn’t have been further from the truth if she’d have just gotten to know Ulla in the first place, however when she one day found Ulla’s makeshift business in selling products she made through alchemical processes, she suddenly became very interested. She’d consistently ask what Ulla had used to make various different solutions, and in exchange, she’d trade some steps with her. It was like a partnership at first - mutually beneficial - until Ulla worked up the courage to ask Donella to hang out with her on weekends and after school to help her make some products, to which the other humbly accepted, and slowly but surely, a friendship was born between the two. 

  Donella, despite her youth, was a force to be reckoned with - her intimidating persona almost immediately warding off people, sometimes just one particularly aggressive glare from her striking, green eyes was enough to scare off people for good. Ulla knew the softer side of the teen though - one where she’d let her walls down for just a few moments and let herself live in the moment. Like the time where Ulla had fallen asleep at her desk, and Donella had carried her all the way up to her room and placed her in bed (even taking the time to tuck her in, despite knowing Ulla could and most definitely would kick the covers off her sleeping form during the night) or when she’d have a slight glimpse of a smile during Ulla’s infamous rants. Nonetheless, she only ever showed this side to Ulla, guarding it from everyone else, Ulla feeling honoured at that fact. 

  “Don’t touch that.” Donella’s voice carried a warning tone, Ulla’s hand immediately flinching back from touching a glass beaker, filled with a colour changing liquid. It wasn’t anything new to her, but they’d always fascinated her to no end. It was fascinating what alchemy and science could achieve sometimes, and seeing other people’s twists on things she already knew how to do was a way to be enlightened into the inner workings of someone else’s mind. However she was quickly torn away from that thought, the other teen standing behind her, taking her wrist and pulling her along down the cobbled road to bring her back on track. Right, of course. They were going to the library to read up on the Eternal Library, as Donella has persisted they do for many months, much to Ulla’s confusion.

  She didn’t get her friend’s infatuation with the place - hell, for all they knew it really was a myth and they were just grasping at straws even trying to research it. It was out of character for Donella, really, to be searching for something they didn’t definitively know was real or not - she was very much the realist out of the two - which confused Ulla to no end. But that didn’t seem to bother Donella in the slightest as she practically dragged the ginger woman through the streets, her iron grip burning a deep crimson mark into her pale skin. She knew her friend didn’t mean to be overly harsh with her, it was just her acting on her frustrations and impatience, (which to her credit she hardly ever showed. Ulla couldn’t remember a time where Donella had yelled at her, even when they were teens, ever the patient person when it came to her) but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t sting and make tears well in her eyes. She was...freakishly strong and sometimes Ulla forgot that, but before long she was given a bitter reminder. 

  “Don, give it a break please, you’re burning my arm.” she pleaded, her hand immediately shooting closer to her chest as soon as her friend’s grip ceased and rubbing it as carefully she could to help with the fleeting pain she was feeling in her wrist. Donella let out a sigh of what felt like guilt, taking Ulla’s wrist in her hands as gently as she could before taking out a small tube of cream from her pocket and applying it generously to the wound, massaging it in gradually. The stings of pain were numbed over time, the burning sensation stopping altogether once Donella had finished. Must’ve been one of her new formulas, thought Ulla, as they continued down the streets of Ecrin, Donella slowing her pace in an act of mercy to Ulla and allowing her to look around at the stalls and shops in more detail and take it in. It was the little things Donella did that showed she cared about her friend, hoping the rare displays went unnoticed by her, but they never did and Ulla silently logged them in the back of her mind each and every time. It was those moments where she saw the true Donella behind the facade she put on daily...those were the moments she truly cherished.

  One store in particular caught her eye, beakers and test tubes set out behind paned glass, unfortunately slightly cracked in the corners from the bad weather that frequently cursed the town. Thunderstorms frequented the town, ferocious winds cursing them with collateral damage almost every month. To Mother Nature’s credit, however, the town was blessed with thick, white blankets of snow every year around Christmas, so that was always a bonus. If Ulla ever had children, she hoped she’d be able to show them this town and the white Christmases that were always guaranteed each year, to allow them to experience a true snowball warzone and to make snowmen in the yard. However, with the way she was, she’d never even had a boyfriend before, scaring off almost every guy within three feet at any given time, so marriage and children was the last thing on her mind. 

  Her mind shot back to the store, it slowly fading from her view as they inched closer and closer towards the town’s library - the biggest one in the whole kingdom of Galcrest, otherwise dubbed as the ‘Earth Kingdom’. It was strange, really, how every kingdom had its own little nickname. She’d never paid it much thought before but it was obscure. She’d been born and bred here along with her brother, but had the sneaking suspicion Donella wasn’t, despite the teen’s insistence. She’d theorised she was born in Pittsford (or the Iron Kingdom, as many called it due to its reliance on the metal for...almost everything), which was spiked from the literal spikes and general dark, jagged aesthetic of her clothing, hell, even her features were jagged like the rest of that kingdom’s citizens, and that she’d travelled to Galcrest in order to escape the economic divide that plagued the kingdom. Ulla had never been able to gain any answers though, Donella kept her past under wraps from Ulla thought, never letting anything slip through the cracks. Ulla often found herself dreaming up scenarios to do with Donella’s past, her wild imagination coming up with absurd situations that, by the time she’d finished thinking them up, she’d realised just how absurd they were and gave up with trying to piece the other’s backstory together. 

  The more stores they passed, the more distracted Ulla seemed to get, her focus constantly shifting from one thing to another and then to another. She couldn’t help that she loved taking in everything around her - examining the surroundings and letting herself adjust to them slowly. And in her defence, it was a mad town to be in with stalls and stores blending in with each other in a way that just naturally flowed. Lanterns stood tall in the streets, standing at ten foot at most ready to be lit when the darkness finally came, placed inconveniently in the middle of the sidewalk. It wasn’t as if anyone really used the sidewalk ,the city had a sufficient lack of carriages so people were free to just walk wherever they wanted through the streets. Ulla liked it that way, though. She had a tendency to wander freely sometimes, so just knowing that there weren’t any restrictions pleased her to no end.

  “We’re here.” Donella called bluntly, glancing at Ulla with her cold, green eyes feeling like they were staring right into her soul. “Come on, we don’t have all day.” Honestly, the building looked threatening, countless floors inside concealed by a towering structure outside decorated with marble steps and pillars leading up to some tall, dark oak doors. It was in the centre of town, but the amount of space it took up was both shocking and impressive, considering the amount of knowledge this place held. Unphased by the daunting building, the silver woman led the way into the library, with Ulla following gingerly behind her, slightly embarrassed at being caught off guard. She’d always prided herself on being attentive, if a little imaginative, so to have the slender woman catch her out like that was...embarrassing to say the least. Still, she trailed along after her, Donella seemingly knowing where to go as they navigated through the mass of volumes.

  Shelves upon shelves upon shelves were surrounding them, their glazed, dark oak sides reaching taller than Ulla could even see and loomed down on them. There must’ve been thousands- no, millions of books in this place, hence it being one of the biggest libraries in existence - well, apart from the mysterious ‘Eternal Library’, but that was potentially just a legend, regardless of how much Donella had insisted it wasn’t, so Ulla kept it away from that category. Their boots made soft clicks on the library floor as they walked across it, the tiles so reflective that she could see her own face in it, with the occasional dirt smudge in the corner of a particular tile here and there. In the centre was a circle, the centre of it marked by a large globe, and, at forty-five degree intervals, there was a staircase leading up to various parts of the library. Donella headed up the third of these staircases, it being marked with a teal band on the banisters, and Ulla followed suit, their footsteps muffled by the matching teal carpet that covered every inch of every step.

  The upstairs was also covered in a mass of bookcases, Donella expertly maneuvering between the shelves with Ulla struggling to keep up with her pace, but desperately not wanting to get lost in this labyrinth of a library. It had happened to her once before - her attentiveness and general disregard for what was happening around her causing her to bound ahead to the fantasy section of the library without her parents coming with her. You could imagine her shock when she turned to find them missing, bursting out into immediate tears and sitting on the floor until her father scooped her into his arms and pressed many comforting kisses to her forehead as they’d left. From then on, she’d never come to the library alone as she knew she’d just get lost somewhere and have to be rescued by Donella begrudgingly. 

  Donella’s movements halted, Ulla walking into her and causing the other teen to be sent stumbling forward. A glare met her almost immediately after Donella had regained her balance, softening into a sympathetic frown as Ulla frantically apologised to her, being met with grey hair after Donella directed her attention to the shelves. She skimmed them, pulling over a ladder and ascending it. “You check the bottom, I check the top. We meet in the middle.” Donella declared, reaching into the shelf and taking out a crimson, hardback book before skimming the pages in silence. Ulla obliged, picking up a leather-bound book and carefully opening it. “Not very talkative today then, are we Don?” Ulla joked and, upon seeing no amusement on her companion’s face, she quickly turned her attention back to her book and got to work.

  They’d been doing this for weeks - aimlessly searching through books about alchemy and Demanitus to find at least one indicator that the library existed, however their attempts proved fruitless with a sufficient lack of results. It was exhausting work to look through books all day to find information on something they weren’t sure even existed. In Ulla’s eyes, it was pointless in every single way, their time would’ve been better spent performing alchemical processes and improving their knowledge in that! Nonetheless, her tired eyes kept searching through the book, placing the first one back and picking up an emerald, hardback one entitled ‘The Many Inventions Of Demanitus’. That sounded promising, she thought as she began to read, the parchment pages showing signs of wearing from use over the years.

  Who was she kidding, they could spend years searching this library and not find anything at all. It had already been weeks, and Donella knew the true extent of this library. However, the idea of the Eternal Library sounded very attractive indeed if it was a real thing. A place with infinite knowledge, books on any topic imaginable littering the walls...it sounded like a grand place, though seemingly impossible. For all they knew, magic didn’t exist, the only hints of it being the sundrop’s flower and moondrop’s moonstone, which were only legends and no one was even sure they existed, much like the Eternal Library created by Demanitus. Besides, how would you even get to a place like that? If it were as simple as just a simple door, it would’ve already been discovered. How was it even made? If it had infinite knowledge, did it constantly update with a volume of every single book in existence? The thought made her head hurt, so she stopped thinking about it and persisted with her reading. 

  It had long since gone dark outside when the librarian called for everyone to leave, Ulla and Donella having cleared out two whole shelves in their search (an impressive feat, considering the shelves in question were probably over fifteen foot in height and ten foot in width and they were only two people). Donella descended from the ladder, shaking her head in dismay as Ulla opened her mouth to ask the same question she always asked. The disappointment was evident in the other teen’s face as they started to make their way through the maze of a library, descending down the stairs and Ulla letting Donella take the lead in guiding them out of the mass of shelves and towards the seven foot tall, dark oak double doors that would take them back out into the streets of Ecrin. “There’s always next time, Don. Don’t feel disheartened!” Ulla declared with a smile, her hand resting comfortingly on her friend’s shoulder, though the was cautious to spread her fingers so they fit in between the spikes. 

  Donella let out what Ulla could only assume was a grunt of agreement, pushing open the doors in front of them and letting the cool, fresh air of the town hit them both in the face without a care in the world. It took Ulla aback for a second, the sudden chill travelling right down her spine and causing little goosebumps to form over her skin. She hadn’t realised how stuffy the library was if you’d been in there for so long. Still, she stepped outside beside Donella and began to head home. Evidently, it had been raining, reflective puddles formed in potholes in the empty streets that the inner child in Ulla had to suppress the urge to jump into, no matter how tempting it was to act like she was still a carefree child for just a moment.

  She’d always loved the city at night, especially on a clear night today where the stars could be seen gleaming in the sky as clear as day. Her mother used to tell her all about them - telling her about all the various constellations that were scattered in the sky (her favourite was Leo, seeing as that was her’s and Ulf’s zodiac signs according to her father), and how they were always constant. Her mother even showed her how to chart stars - an interesting lesson given her easily distracted nature, but she tried and in the end, she did it!

  Donella abruptly moved in front of Ulla, taking her hands gently with a troubled frown on her face. “I got you something.” she muttered, reaching into the leather satchel at her hip that Ulla strangely hadn’t noticed she was carrying. It suddenly clicked - it was the one Ulla had made her once, she could tell from the randomly placed, chestnut patch of fabric that sat in the middle. She’d resorted to that after running out of leather, hoping Donella wouldn’t have noticed (she did, almost immediately). Donella thrust something into her chest, the action causing Ulla to stumble back but Donella’s hand snaked onto her waist to catch and steady her. She pulled her hand away as quickly as she’d put it there, and Ulla could swear she could see a light blush dusting on her research partner’s cheeks. “Okay bye.” Donella responded quickly, speeding in the opposite direction to Ulla before turning a corner and disappearing completely from Ulla’s sight.

  Ulla raised an eyebrow, a confused smile on her face. Donella getting someone a gift AND getting embarrassed? Well, that was new..she thought before checking the item against her chest. A small gasp left her mouth as she realised what it was. It was a first edition copy of ‘Advanced Alchemy’, the one thing she’d been begging for for months, but could never find along with a teal notebook, marked with the words ‘Ulla’s Research Journal’. It was the best gift anyone could have given her, a smile gracing her features as she did a little dance in the street, unashamed of her excitement and happiness. She just HAD to tell her mom! She immediately started running home, giggling and laughing as she did.

  “Mom! Mom!” she yelled as soon as she threw open the door. “Mom, look what Donella got me!” she thrust the book into her mother’s face, giving her no time to read it before pulling it away and raising the notebook. “And my very own study journal! Isn’t that cool, mom?” 

  “Yes, very cool, Ulla. Now young lady, care to explain to me why you promised you’d be back before sundown, and it's been sundown for countless hours now?” Her mother’s hands moved and rested on her hips. She’d...completely forgotten about her promise to her mother, it slipping from her mind after the first hour or two of research. She winced back, preparing her apology before being scooped into the air and spun around. 

  “Give the kid a break, Arlayna. She was just researching is all!” her father declared proudly as he hugged his daughter close to his chest before setting her down on the floor. She was a splitting image of him, albeit with a more feminine hairstyle and figure, inheriting her electric blue peripherals, ginger locks, mass of freckles and jawline from the man. Her mother, on the other hand, looked like Ulf who was sat at the table with one of his friends, talking about something or the other. Ulla didn’t pay attention though, she was too busy bragging to her dad about her new prized belongings. “That’s lovely sweetheart, I bet you can’t wait to get started!”

  A loud gasp left her mouth. “I need to get started!” she exclaimed excitedly, placing a kiss to both her parent’s cheeks before sprinting up the rickety stairs, down the hall to her room. She virtually threw open the door, striding through and jumping onto her bed which moaned in protest at the sudden weight influx. She paid it no mind though, she was far too excited to get started with her new book. She lay back, her head against the pillows before opening the book in excitement. She couldn’t believe she actually had it in her hands! It was a dream come true in her eyes, joy and exhilaration building in her stomach as she lit a candle beside her bed and began to read, angling herself so the page was illuminated by the soft glow of the candle’s flame. 

  Her room was pretty bare compared to her other sibling’s room - containing a bed, a desk and a chair, a guitar and a bedside table all made from wood and created by her father. Her real highlight, though, was the shelf of books containing information on all things alchemy. Over the years, she’d steadily built up her collection of books on the subject, Donella also providing her with some on the rare occasion that the other teen was feeling generous. Her common excuse was that they were ‘hand-me-downs’, but Ulla could tell from the immaculate quality that they were always new. The subject fascinated her and truly was her passion, her pride and her joy, all of her previous work being noted down on pieces of parchment in a box beside her desk. Now, however, she had her own research journal! She couldn’t be more ecstatic! She’d have to thank Donella later, she thought, before starting to read again. 

  Elias opened the door to his daughter’s room ready to say goodnight to find her asleep, the book she’d been so excited to start covering her face as she slept, oblivious to its awkward placement, the candle beside her bed long since burnt out. A chuckle left his throat as he moved through the small room, watching out for all the creaks, before gently setting the book aside (being sure to mark the pace, because what was he? An animal?) and pulling the covers over his daughter. He placed a kiss to her forehead, heading to leave before something stopped him. He glanced back at his daughter’s sleeping form with a slight frown tracing his features.

  “She’s a strong girl, Elias.” Arlayna whispered softly from behind her husband, setting her candle on top of a table in the hallway. It illuminated her face perfectly, the glint of her golden eyes showing fully and her black hair finally loose of its usual bun - she truly did look like an angel in her husband’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed with her in his arms. He placed gentle kisses onto her forehead as she continued to speak. “She’s never let the school kid’s taunts bother her before, and Donella doesn’t seem like the kind of girl to hurt her like they do. She’ll be fine.” she reassured him, wrapping her arms around his neck to return the embrace.

  “I know she can handle herself, but she’s still my little girl and I’m never not gonna worry about her, love. The kids mean the world to me and to see them ignoring the things that are hurting them...it just makes me feel like she doesn’t trust us enough to talk to us, or that I’m a bad dad for not pursuing the topic with her.” he let out a sigh and pressed his forehead against his wife’s, letting his eyes shut and take in her warmth, conflicting against how naturally cold he always was.

  “She’ll come to you if she needs help, and you aren’t a bad dad. You introduced her to one of her biggest passions in life, alchemy. You gave her an outlet for her skills and I think she’s very grateful for that, she just forgets to tell you that sometimes. Now come on, sweetheart. It’s about time we got some sleep, yeah?” Arlayna moved out of the embrace and held out one of her dainty hands to pick up the candle she’d previously left discarded. A reassuring smile was illuminated by the soft candlelight and Elias felt himself fall deeper and deeper in love, as she let the angelic woman in front of him lead her down the hall and towards their bedroom. 

  With a sigh, he looked back down the hall to his daughter’s room, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that steadily bubbled in his stomach at the thought of her. That was soon interrupted by his wife’s arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, her chest pressed against his back and forehead against his nape. “Elias please, it’s cold and I want to go to sleep with my loving husband holding me in his arms to protect me from the freezing cold outside.” she groaned and he finally relented, closing the door to their room. However, as he lay awake with his wife’s head on his chest, absentmindedly playing with her hair, he couldn’t help the thought of his daughter filling his head. He bit his lip.

  She was destined for great things. He wasn’t sure when, but he just knew she was.

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (5/5) - schitt’s creek ff

Here it is, the final chapter!  There's nothing I can say that can get across how touched I've been by the comments on this fic. The number of people who have shared things about their own struggles with mental health -- I'm not worthy of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

While I'm including this fic as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4718 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

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Chapter 5: Winter

“So how was your week?” Jessica asked.

Patrick always felt like he should plan before therapy what he was going to talk about, but he never remembered to do that.

“It was a little crazy. The holidays at the store always are, although it’s very lucrative. The money we make in December will carry us through at least half of the upcoming year,” he said, pinching the webbing on one hand between his thumb and forefinger of the other.

“And did you feel more equipped to handle that? The busy store, and all your responsibilities around that? Especially with Christmas a few days away?”

Patrick shrugged, feeling obstinate. “I don’t know.”

Jessica let a silence settle, waiting for him to talk. Patrick hated this part; it made him feel like he was failing at therapy when he didn’t know how to fill that silence. What the right answer was. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sofa cushions, calling her bluff.

Finally, she relented and spoke, and Patrick felt like he’d won a round of whatever game they were playing. “You’ve never said much in here about your sexual orientation other than to talk about your husband and to say that things with your family are good. Was it always that way?”

Patrick tried not to roll his eyes. He knew this would be coming eventually. He’d been avoiding the subject of Rachel or his coming out process because he knew it would be something Jessica would fixate on. “I’m not depressed because of being gay, or… or anything to do with that. I love being gay.”

She smiled genuinely. “I’m glad. But humor me.”

“My parents always accepted me,” he said quickly, but that felt like a lie even though it was technically true.

“How old were you when you came out?” Jessica asked.

Patrick let out a frustrated sigh, seeing no way to avoid the truth now. “I was… I was in denial about being gay for a long time.” Might as well get it all out, he thought. “When I was twenty-nine I broke off an engagement to my high school sweetheart — who was a woman — and moved away from my hometown. Pretty soon after that, I realized I was gay.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, but once I got through it and… and got together with David, I’d never been happier.”

He couldn’t help but see the smile she gave him in response to that as patronizing. “New love can flood the body with so many good chemicals that it swamps out all of the bad ones.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I wasn’t happy?”

“No, I’m saying that the way you’ve framed things in some of our past sessions — that you were depressed before you moved here, and then you weren’t, and now for some reason you’re depressed again… that may not be the right way to frame it. Do you think perhaps it puts a lot of pressure on David as the source of your happiness?”

“I don’t put pressure on David,” Patrick protested.

“Is it possible that you put pressure on yourself, then? When it comes to your relationship with David and its importance in your life?” Jessica asked.

Patrick huffed and didn’t answer. Now she was contradicting herself from one sentence to the next.

“When did you come out to your family?” she asked.

“That isn’t why I’m depressed either,” he said.

Jessica sighed like he was finally challenging her constant state of serene acceptance. “Untangling the web of depression isn’t straightforward. It might be helpful to pull on different threads and see what they’re connected to. Okay?”

Patrick supposed that made sense. “Okay.” Then after another pause, he admitted, “It took me a while to come out to my parents.”

“Why is that?”

He stared at Jessica’s bookshelf for several seconds, his eyes running over the titles without reading them. “I worried that my parents wouldn’t be okay with it. They didn’t talk about gay people when I was a kid, really. Or when they did, they made it sound like a sad thing that we needed to tolerate because it wasn’t a choice. You know, that brand of ‘tolerance’ that is just that and nothing more.”

She shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s understandable why you were hesitant to come out to them.”

“But they were great about it. It wasn’t long after coming out to them that I asked David to marry me, and they were great. They love him, and all my worries were unfounded,” he said, trying to figure out why tears were threatening to spill over.

Jessica took a few seconds to rearrange herself, setting her ever-present portfolio aside and leaning forward on with her elbows on her knees. “I understand that, looked at a certain way, you’ve had a purely positive experience with coming into your sexuality. You had David, who from what you’ve said before is a very loving person. And based on what you’ve told me, you live in an accepting community. And then your parents stepped up and were there for you when you asked them to be. That’s all wonderful, and not to be discounted. But it doesn’t change the fact that for all of your formative years, when maybe on some subconscious level you did know that you were gay, or at least different in some fundamental way, you didn’t feel like your parents or the community you were living in would accept you. That kind of experience leaves a mark, even though everything turned out fine.”

She smirked, leaning backwards again. “Or not. Perhaps your serotonin is low due to simple physiology and I’m completely off the mark.”

Patrick felt strangely reassured by this honesty, this admission that she knew that she didn’t know everything. “So I need medication, then?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Medication might help. Or cognitive behavior therapy could help you. Or both together.”

His reassurance quickly dissolved, leaving Patrick wanting to scream at his therapist, fix me, goddammit! Instead he said, “That all sounds very nebulous.”

She grinned. “From what I know about you so far, I bet that’s driving you crazy, and I’m sorry about that. Can you bear with me for a little while, though? Work through the process?”

He sighed. “I’ll try.”

~*~

Patrick drove past the empty storefront on Elmdale’s main street as he was leaving his therapy appointment. He’d noticed every week that the ‘for lease’ sign was still in the window. After the second time he saw it, he’d texted Ray to ask if that was the space he’d mentioned to David. David hadn’t said anything about the second Rose Apothecary location in a while, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was still thinking about it, and probably wondering when Patrick would be ready to seriously entertain the idea again.

On impulse, he pulled into one of the parking spaces that lined the street and got out of the car, walking over to the empty storefront. The windows were covered in paper, but he could see enough through the gaps to make out that it had a scuffed up hardwood floor. It would need to be refinished, he thought, but it looked like it was in pretty good shape.

The smell of coffee attracted Patrick’s attention, and he looked over to see that there was a coffee shop next door. Grind House, the sign that hung under the awning said. Curious, Patrick went over and opened the door.

The barista looked up and waved. It being around two in the afternoon on a weekday, the place was mostly empty other than two people at a table in the corner who were huddled over laptop computers. The shop was decorated tastefully for Christmas, and he thought David would approve of the warmth and coziness of the space.

“Hey, what can I get you?” the barista — Taylor, her name tag read — asked him with a smile. Tattoos snaked out from under the sleeves of her t-shirt, black ink against dark brown skin.

“A small earl grey tea?” he asked.

“Sure thing. Is that it? We’ve got a few pastries left.”

His eyes strayed over to the pastry case. “Yeah, could I get a couple of those butter tarts to go? My husband is a real connoisseur.”

Taylor grinned at him. “Smart man.”

“Hey, what do you know about the empty space next door? Do you know if there’s been any interest in it?”

“Oh man, I’m still bummed about that. It used to be a comic book shop. I was afraid to go in there for the longest time — comic stores aren’t necessarily the most welcoming places to black queer women, you know? But the old guy that ran it was super nice. I remember he made a point of telling me when Ta-Nahisi Coates started writing Captain America.”

“What happened to the store?”

She shrugged. “Amazon drove him out of business, I guess. That’ll be $9.25,” she said ringing up his tea and butter tarts. As Patrick put his debit card in the reader, she added, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh.” He scratched his cheek. “My husband and I run a store in Schitt’s Creek. Rose Apothecary?”

“Holy shit, really? A friend gave me some of your lotion for my birthday. It’s great.”

Patrick swelled with pride. “Thanks. Anyway, we’re considering opening a second location in Elmdale.”

Taylor smirked, handing him his tea and a box with the tarts. “Sorry, I can’t allow you to have a store right next door to my coffee shop. I’ll spend all my profits there.”

Laughing, Patrick accepted his purchases. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll have to look for another place, then. Although David would return the favor, I’m sure.”

“What’s your name?” Taylor asked.

“It’s Patrick Brewer,” he said, setting the tea down again to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Patrick. I’m Taylor. And I hope you guys get the space.”

“I… do too,” he said, surprised to find that he meant it.

The store was bustling when he got back to Schitt’s Creek, and David and Bethany were both busy with customers. Patrick put the box of butter tarts in the back room and went to work restocking Christmas decorations. Given how many decorations they sold every holiday season, Patrick had to assume that by now every Christmas tree in Elm County was fully outfitted in David Rose’s aesthetic.

As soon as David finished with the customers he was helping, Patrick went over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I got you something for your afternoon break,” he said. “There’s a white box on the table in the back.”

David’s eyes lit up, and he hurried into the back before he could be waylaid by another harried holiday shopper.

They didn’t have a chance to exchange any more conversation until Bethany finally flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up. Patrick felt dead on his feet, but he had to admit that the thought of all the money in the cash register made him feel pretty good. Bethany went to work cleaning the windows while David leaned against the center table.

“Oh my god, Patrick, where did you get those butter tarts? Those are the best ones I’ve had in years.”

Patrick walked over and put his arms around his husband, pulling him into a hug. “A little coffee shop in downtown Elmdale that happens to be next to an empty store that I believe Ray mentioned to you a couple of months ago.”

David pulled out of the hug, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied Patrick’s expression. “It’s still vacant?”

Nodding, Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s cheek. “We should call Ray after Christmas and go take a look at it.”

“Are you sure?”

Patrick shrugged. “No, I’m scared as hell. Among other things, I’m afraid I’m going to miss having days like this with you, working together in our store. But I want to go look.”

David kissed his lips gently. “Okay.”

~*~

Stevie stood shivering on their back porch, bundled up in her hat and puffy parka. “It’s way too cold for this,” she said.

Patrick exhaled pot smoke in a crystalline cloud of breath and handled the joint back to her. “Our families are getting here tomorrow and I don’t want the house to smell like weed.” He giggled. “It doesn’t match David’s holiday aesthetic.”

His phone chimed, and he took it out to look at it, expecting a complaint from David. Instead the text was from his cousin. There were no words, just a picture of Justin pressed cheek to cheek with another boy.

Patrick: Who’s this?

Justin 🌈: his name is Jonah

Patrick: Very cute. And closer to your age, I hope?

Justin 🌈: 🙄 you sound like my mom he’s 18

Patrick: Good. Merry Christmas, Justin.

Justin 🌈: thanks you too

Then a text arrived from David, just as Patrick expected. She’s got even more luggage than last year.

Patrick laughed. Maybe it’s a lot of presents for you, he texted back.

David: You give my sister entirely too much credit.

Patrick: See you soon.

“Why are you suddenly so fucking popular?” Stevie groused, her teeth chattering, handing him the joint back as he put away his phone.

“Sounds like Alexis’s flight got in on time,” he said. “And my cousin Justin has a new… boyfriend, I guess?” He took another hit.

“I can’t stand this anymore; I’m going inside,” Stevie said, taking the half-smoked joint from him and carefully extinguishing it, then putting it in a crumpled sandwich bag that she produced from her coat pocket. Patrick followed her back into the house. “Is this the cousin that you rescued a while ago?”

“How many gay cousins do you think I have?” he asked, pulling his coat off.

“I mean, statistically? Given how many cousins you have? More than one.” She flopped down on the sofa and stretched out on her back. “So are you liking your therapist any better?”

Patrick dropped into the overstuffed chair across from her. “I don’t know. As I predicted, she’s starting to fixate on my sexual orientation and…” He gestured airily in a very David way. “All that.”

Stevie turned her head and regarded him balefully. “The fact that you were in denial about being gay until you were thirty? And didn’t come out to your parents until you were ready to ask David to marry you? Is that what ‘all that’ is?”

“Fuck off,” Patrick grumbled.

“I’m just saying, there’s probably some stuff to unpack there.”

“Stevie, I’m completely comfortable with being gay,” he said.

“Didn’t say you weren’t. It’s not about you being gay, but maybe it’s about how you get so wrapped up in your obligations to other people that you lose track of yourself. Or that you’re so obsessed with not disappointing the people you care about that you have a hard time being truthful about who you are or what you need.”

Patrick blinked. “Wow. Maybe you should be my therapist.”

Stevie laughed. “The problem is, I need to be high to have these deep insights.”

They settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally Patrick admitted, “I don’t like the way it makes me feel cracked open.”

“What does?” Stevie asked, her mind clearly having wandered.

“Therapy.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think I could deal with that either,” Stevie said.

“It’s like… you know how if you pick up a big rock in moist soil, there’ll be all these bugs underneath it?”

“Ew,” Stevie said in a perfect imitation of David, and the two of them burst into gales of laughter for a while. When Stevie finally got control of herself, she said, “Sorry, what about the bugs?”

He wiped away tears from his cheeks. “It was a metaphor for my brain. I’ve got a lifetime of practice not moving those rocks. I don’t know if I want to know what’s underneath them.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She stretched her toes out, brushing them against the arm of the sofa. “You know you’ll be okay though, right?”

Patrick felt a swell of love for Stevie and he would have hugged her, but it would probably be weird. Also he was comfortable in his chair. Maybe he’d hug her later.

When David arrived from retrieving Alexis at the airport, Patrick put his coat back on to help with the luggage. David opened a bottle of wine and turned the lamps in the living room off, leaving only the light from the Christmas tree to illuminate the four of them as they settled in to talk.

They told Alexis about the new location in Elmdale that they were considering leasing, and she made some marketing suggestions that were good enough that David went and retrieved his journal from the bedroom so that he could make some notes.

“One thing I’ve seen businesses do to get market penetration is sponsor relevant conferences,” Alexis said. “Like, professional association meetings. Then they get their business name and logo printed on everything for the conference — tote bags, lanyards, USB sticks, all that stuff.” Her free hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass flopped around to indicate all of the stuff.

“We don’t really have general store conferences,” Patrick said, bemused.

Alexis rolled her eyes. “But it works for other events too. Summer festivals, parades, whatever.”

“Elm Valley has a pumpkin festival every year,” Stevie said.

Patrick was starting to have a germ of an idea related to what Alexis had said. He sipped his wine and filed it away to mull over later, when he was sober.

Tomorrow, Johnny and Moira and his own parents would arrive and things would take a turn for the chaotic, but for right now, Patrick could enjoy the warmth of David’s hand on his shoulder as his husband bantered happily with his sister and his best friend. Leaning into the crook of David’s arm, Patrick smiled and tried to soak up all of the love in the room, an inoculation against the darkness that might lurk around the next bend in the road.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” David murmured against his spine later in their bed. Their kisses had been drowsy and a little bit drunk as they decided that sex was happening tonight in spite of their houseguests. Alexis was in the guest bedroom and Stevie had zonked out on the living room sofa, David tucking an afghan around her shoulders before he and Patrick went to bed themselves.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Patrick said with a chuckle, writhing, pressed against the sheets as David worked him up and up.

“I know it’s not technically Christmas, but tonight was so nice,” David murmured into Patrick’s shoulder, words alternating with kisses. “It filled me with holiday spirit.”

Patrick tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was a losing battle. He made an attempt to smother his giggles into his pillow.

“If you say something about me filling you with the holiday spirit, it’s over between us.” The things he was doing to Patrick with his fingers belied that statement.

Laughing again, Patrick pushed his hips back against David’s hand, and then his laughter turned into a moan, and then neither of them said anything coherent for a long time.

~*~

The first town council meeting of the new year came on a grey January afternoon, the threat of snow on the horizon. Everyone was subdued and low energy, even Roland, and Patrick felt drowsy, struggling a little bit to pay attention and type at the same time that they discussed several budgetary issues. A lot of the topics were the same every meeting, with tiny, incremental changes almost too small to detect. Or worse, they were recurring issues that indicated no progress had been made at all.

When they got to the bottom of the agenda, Ronnie asked if there was any new business, and Patrick almost didn’t say anything. The idea that had occurred to him during the holidays had seemed strong on a happier day. Today, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to argue for it. But then he thought about the things Ronnie had said to him about queer activism, and he thought about Taylor and her coffee shop, and he opened his mouth.

“Have we ever considered having something in Schitt’s Creek for Pride?” he asked.

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “What, like a parade?”

“No offense, but it might be kind of a sad little parade,” Roland said.

“No, not a parade. Like, a street festival. Tents with food and other vendors and LGBT educational booths. Opportunities for people to find out about meetings in the area. Maybe a stage with speeches and musical performances. And we don’t have to limit it to only Schitt’s Creek. I looked into it a little, and even Elmdale doesn’t have anything like it. We could draw vendors and patrons from all over Elm County.”

Ronnie crossed her arms. “Sounds like a way to line your own pockets. I assume Rose Apothecary would be one of the vendors?”

Patrick met her gaze. “I’m sure the rest of council could be counted on to keep us on a level playing field with everyone else. Come on, Ronnie. Can you honestly say it wouldn’t be a good thing for the community? And a good way to bring money into the town?”

She tilted her head in acquiescence. “Put together a formal proposal and we can vote on it at the next meeting.”

“I’m going to vote ‘yes,’” Bob stage-whispered to Patrick.

“Thanks, Bob.”

After the meeting had adjourned, Patrick went over to Ronnie. “I thought later this month I’d go to that Thornbridge LGBTQIA+ meeting you told me about. See what they’re doing and make some connections. Ask if they’d be interested in helping out with our Pride festival.”

Ronnie stared at him for a second. “Your festival idea hasn’t been approved yet,” she said.

“Assuming it’s approved,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning. “Would you like to go with me?”

“You want me to spend hours in a car with you, driving to Thornbridge. Really.”

“Come on, Ronnie. Someday you and I are going to have to bury the hatchet for good.” He put on his most guileless expression, the one that caused David to accuse him of weaponizing his eyes. “Why not in service to the queer community, of which we are both pillars?”

She almost, for a split second, looked like she was going to crack a smile. Instead she sighed. “Fine. Let me know when it is. I’ll see if I’m available.”

~*~

They celebrated signing the lease for the new store with pizza at David’s favorite spot in Elmdale. There were paper hearts colored by children in the front window, and it reminded Patrick that he only had a few days to find a suitably tacky gift for David for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t get David to threaten to divorce him on this, David’s most hated of holidays.

While they waited for their pizza, Patrick reached across the red and white checkered tablecloth and took David’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

David had been fiddling with his phone, but at the sound of Patrick’s voice, he set it face-down on the table and gave Patrick his full attention. “What for?”

“For being there for me so many times this past year. For… for putting up with me at my worst.”

A crooked smile threatened to erupt on David’s face. “Patrick, you know your worst is still pretty good, right?”

“I hope you’re not still grading me on a Sebastien Raine curve, David.”

David rolled his eyes at that. “No, I’m just saying that maybe you don’t have the most objective perspective on what being married to you is like.” His eyes softened. “I’m as happy being your husband today as I was the first day. Okay?”

Patrick swallowed around a surprising lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“You’re nervous about the new store,” David surmised.

“I am, but it’s the right decision,” Patrick said with confidence.

“I’m nervous too,” David said. “Don’t mistake my outward confidence for anything other than a thin veneer over all of my anxieties.”

That statement automatically put Patrick into reassurance mode. “The marketing ideas from Alexis are going to be helpful. The customer base in Elmdale is huge and has more disposable income compared to what we’re used to at home. I’ve run some numbers, and I think the revenue from this location may outstrip our Schitt’s Creek location in a matter of months.”

David grimaced. “Well, that somehow makes me feel irrationally protective of our first store. It doesn’t deserve to be the under-achiever.”

Squeezing David’s hand, Patrick said, “Never. I fell in love with you there, and there’s nowhere in the world more important to me than that store.”

“We can make new memories at the new store,” David said softly.

Patrick knew, realistically, that he and David probably wouldn’t be spending that much time together at the new store after they got it open. They’d have to split time between the two locations, and there would be even more work to do out on the road, expanding their vendor base to support the increased demand.

David seemed to read his thoughts. “And when we spend our days apart, it will make being at home together in the evenings that much more precious.”

“Yeah,” Patrick managed to say, his voice raw. He averted his eyes from David’s piercing gaze, staring out the window between the gaps in the paper hearts. “Can you… can you talk to me more about that?”

David smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Well, imagine a day when I’m at the store here in Elmdale, and you’re at the store back at home.”

“Are you at the one in Elmdale because of Taylor’s pastries?”

“Shhh,” David said, reaching out with a finger like he was going to put it over Patrick’s lips. “I leave the store a little early, letting one of our trusted employees close up, and I bring home some wine and cheese from the store. Maybe some of Heather’s new triple cream.” He closed his eyes like he was having an erotic fantasy about Heather Warner’s cheese.

“Wine and cheese that you pay for,” Patrick said.

“Naturally. Oh, and fresh berries. It’s summer, and there are berries in season. So I set everything up on the kitchen table, just in time for you to arrive home from the other store. And we drink wine and eat cheese and we tell each other all about our days. The sun is setting, and the light is all golden,” David said.

“I like this story,” Patrick replied. “Then what happens?”

“Eventually we move to the sofa. Maybe watch some TV or listen to some music. We put our feet up and finish our wine and you remember something funny that you saw on the internet and you tell me about it. And then when we get tired, we go to bed.”

“What happens then?” Patrick asked as their server set their pizza in front of them and David grabbed a slice.

David’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile and he waggled his eyebrows. “The rest of the story is very interesting, but you’ll have to wait to get home to hear that part.”

“Hmm, okay.” Patrick reached for his own slice of pizza.

“Hey,” David said, drawing Patrick back to looking at him. “I love you. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings for us.”

Patrick smiled. He felt bolstered, lifted up by David’s support and for once, he allowed himself to feel good about it. “Me either, David.”

[savysavannah]

Savannah Finds a Baby:

The girls and I jumped up and down in our skimpy swimsuits, a little sudsy from the carwash. We'd spent the day doing our sororities charity event for the semester, a car wash where all the profits go to a women's shelter. My best friend Eimear and I had found the shelter and the president Elle had picked the event. In all honesty, it was a lot more work than I'd thought it'd been. The movies made it look so sexy and easy to do. But by now I was beat. My boyfriend Chad and I were supposed to go out to dinner then out to a party but I really just wanted a nap. 

Pulling out my phone I dialed his number and waited. It went straight to voice mail. 

With a small sigh I tapped my flip flop on the wet parking lot and waited for the beep, 

"Hey babes, don't think I'm gonna make it tonight. I'm just really worn from the car wash. You should still go and have fun at the party though! Loves ya."

Sighing again I walked to the sorority house where a few of the girls were still hanging out in the entryway ready to go. 

"Savy, thought you were going out with your boo tonight?" Marissa asked. 

"I'm surprised you girls are going out. After all that cleaning I'm so tired. Might sleep all day tomorrow too to make up for it." I joked. 

"Oh well, if you're serious leave your paper for Professor Hidgens on your desk. I'll grab it tomorrow on my way out." Eimear offered, she was my roommate so it's not like she'd bother me getting up.

My face paled. "Fuck." 

"You forgot about it didn't you." She asked and raised an eyebrow. 

"Absolutely did." I was already panicking. What were we studying again? Something about the founding of Illea? The fall of America? Where did the chinese come into play again???? 

"Don't worry. It's pretty fact based instead of opinion. Borrow my laptop, my essays on the desktop just change it up a bit." Eimear offered and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she and Marissa headed out past me. 

"Thank you!" I yelled back at her before dashing up to our room to get her laptop. I'd used it a few times to edit her papers or in cases like this, so I already knew the password. 

Sitting in bed I began to read through her essay, now on my laptop, but felt my eyes drifting closed. 

"Fuck." I sighed and got up. After stretching I realized this was gonna take more than just a bit of movement. Stuck my laptop and charger in a tote, slipped on some pants over my bikini bottoms and some sandals then was on the move to starbucks. 

The sun set as I typed away making edits here and there and sipping on my venti mocha coffee with three shots of esspresso. It wasn't till I felt a small hand on my pant leg that I snapped out of my work. 

I looked down to see a small child, I mean I think small? I don't really know children? Maybe three or four. Staring up at me from under the starbucks table. 

Panicking I looked around but I didn't really see any adult looking figures around. The child began to cry on my leg wailing, I got some looks like I was some slut at the starbucks who got knocked up at 19 and now had a wailing toddler. I guess I wasn't really wearing a full shirt. Quickly I stuffed my bag to leave. 

But as I stood I realized I couldn't just leave the toddler at starbucks. Don't I have some kind of ethical duty here?

I picked up the child, holding it at arm length to avoid it touching my face. Who knows where those hands have been. Probably covered in slobber. 

Carrying the child to the starbucks counter I held it out. "I found this." 

I presented the child to the minimum wage teenage worker. He stared at me puzzled for a moment. Then looked around, 

"Did you see her with anyone?" He asked. 

"Uh, I don't think so? It just appeared?" 

He kinda snorted, "kids don't really 'just appear. It had to get in here somehow with someone?" He suggested. 

"Look, I was busy, suddenly there was a kid at my feet that's all I know." I held the kid out to the worker again hoping he'd take it off my hands and put it somewhere else. 

He seemed offended. "I don't know what to do with it?" 

Suddenly it looked as if a manager was coming. "What's going on?" 

"Some lady found a kid." He shrugged. 

"Found how? Like adopted?"

"No, I mean I found a kid in your store. It just walked up to me or toddled or something and started crying. Isn't mine." 

The manager thought for a moment. "And you didn't see a parent with her?" 

"If I saw a parent I wouldn't be holding it." 

Again the manager pondered. "We'll call the non emergency police and file a report." The manager said. 

I hung around with the baby, the manager, and the employee as we waited. The store had closed so it was quiet and someone had to watch the baby while the workers closed. So I was left with it- I mean her, sitting on the counter waiting. 

"Sooo, you like coffee?" I asked and we sat in silence. 

"You probably shouldn't have coffee, stunts your growth." I mumbled and looked up at the fans in the shop. Suddenly a woman rushed up to the shop door and banged on it. I walked over and she pointed to the baby on the counter. 

"Hey! Either the moms here or a child trafficker!" I yelled back, hopefully to the manager. 

"Let her in and wait for the police!" He yelled back. 

What was I somehow his employee now too? I turned the lock and let her in. She rushed over to the baby and hugged her tightly. "Oh thank god!" She yelled. 

"How do you lose a baby?" I asked and walked over to the mom and baby to get my tote bag. 

She glared down at me. "Don't you speak to me like that! You have no idea the kind of day I've had! You're lucky I'm feeling generous or I'd have you reported for kidnapping!" She yelled. The manager rushed out to deal with her as the police came up. 

"Well, that seems like my queue." I mumbled and tried my best to leave the Karen and her baby to the police and the manager. Gave the baby a little nod goodbye. She smiled, figured that was confirmation of her approval and headed back to the sorority house. Paper complete. 

[mininky]

Sweep me off my feet!

Summary: You had managed for almost your entire life to build up your walls and remain in the comfort of your own little world until one man stumbled into your life and changed everything. You never would have guessed that one of your clients would change your entire world, but the world works in mysterious ways. This is the story of how you fell in love with Kim Namjoon, the eclectic tattoo artist who frequented your book store.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Warnings/Genre: Fluff, smut. Contains explicit sex scenes including oral sex (female receiving) and safe sex. Non smut warnings for mentions of divorce/broken homes, cheating. Also a non smut warning for tooth rotting fluff and Jin being the sassy sidekick we all need.

Word Count: 14.6K

A/N: To the lovely anon who asked me ages ago for a story about Namjoon and the reader finding love after heartbreak here it is! I know this isn’t a college AU but I hope you’ll love it all the same.

There's something about the smell of books that's rather intoxicating. It's almost an aphrodisiac if you will. At least for you, it is. But perhaps that's because it invokes this sense of nostalgia and comfort to you, mixed with a dash of intrigue and mystery. New books are nice, but it's the old ones that really get you. The smell of worn pages, broken down oils and breaking glue. If you could bottle it in a perfume you would. Or hell, turn it into a candle. Perhaps that's why you enjoy coming in to work so much. The scent hits you every time you step inside just as vanilla wafts through a bakery in your old used bookstore.

   It was once owned by your Grandfather, and a few years ago he left the store to you after he passed away. The store in itself is a sacred place for you. It isn't just about the legacy left by him or the fact that you technically own it now and it's your only source of income. The store, that goes by the very uninspired name of 'Used Books and Restoration', is also home to some of your favorite memories. It's a place of salvation, a place that called your name openly even in your darkest of times.

   While some might assume that your main bread and butter for the business is the actual selling of books where you make almost all of your profit is off of restoration and collectible books. Restoration isn't an easy process by any means. It takes considerable effort and precise work, along with plenty of patience. But it's absolutely worth it to see those old books come back to life yet again. Luckily you've gained a reputation just as good as your Grandfather in the collectible book community. It also doesn't hurt that book repair is a rather niche market and therefore there's very limited competition in the area. It's gained you a core clientele, and while you appreciate all of your customers there's one, in particular, that you like best.

   Kim Namjoon. An eclectic collector with a voracious appetite for books of every and any genre. While you've never actually seen it you're sure that his home boasts an impressive private library considering the catalog that he's brought in for restoration as well as purchased from you. He moved into town a few years ago after starting the tattoo shop right by you and he's been a customer ever since. You've given up on trying to figure out his favorite genre. He reads everything. And you do mean everything. He even once purchased an Amish romance book from you along with Egghead by Bo Burnham, a book about the mythology of sex, a guide to soapmaking, a calligraphy book, and a book on education in the era of segregation. In the same purchase. It might go down as one of your oddest assortments you've ever rung up together. And not one of those was a gift.

   He's also brought in plenty of books for you to restore, never even blinking at the hefty price tag. While most of your restoration work is usually for much older books (usually collectibles) that require very delicate work, it's not unusual for him to bring in ordinary but very roughed up books that he's somehow accidentally destroyed. Broken spines. Pages falling out or ripped apart. At first, you thought that he was just careless with his books, but after having him in your store enough times you know that the honest truth is the man might possibly a god of destruction. Or at the very least he's been cursed with terrible luck. He once knocked over a small table and when trying to set everything up right he managed to knock down an entire bookcase. In the middle of helping you pick everything back up his glasses fell off and he then stepped on them. You were convinced that Ashton Kutcher was about to pop out and that the show Punked had risen from the ashes. But no, Namjoon is just genuinely that clumsy. It's equal parts adorable and terrifying.

   Today is luckily one of those days where you're blessed with an interaction sans destruction with Kim Namjoon. Like clockwork, he always pops in on Tuesdays and Fridays in the late afternoon, but for once he's slightly off schedule as he strolls in on a rainy Thursday morning. His normally sunny demeanor and friendly dimples are replaced with a pensive atmosphere, eyes trained on his phone as he tries to close his umbrella single-handedly before he begins wrestling with the contraption.

   "You're in early. Are you looking for something in particular today?" You pour yourself a cup of coffee when the machine beeps, stirring in some crappy powdered creamer as you glance in his direction.

   "Nah, I'm actually just trying to escape the rain. I left my keys back at home so Yoongi, the other owner, is going to lend me his keys once he gets here. I hope you don't mind me waiting it out in here." He gives a shy smile, pushing his glasses up his nose as he avoids eye contact.

   "Not at all, it's raining cats and dogs out there. Why are you going in so early though? I thought you guys didn't open up until noon?" You try not to wince too noticeably as you feel a taste bud singe off from the coffee.

   "...An...old friend of mine is coming down to get a tattoo touched up so I'm coming in early just for that." You don't miss the pause he takes, but you don't want to pry. Instead, you pull out another mug from under the counter and start pouring him a cup.

   "Well, in that case, I would highly recommend a nice warm cup of coffee before you begin for the day. Do you like cream or sugar?"

   "Both please, unless it's flavored creamer then I'll do just that." He seems to relax a bit, walking a bit closer to where you're making him a cup as he finally stops wringing his hands.

   "Nope, it's the cheap stuff. I'm too lazy to go all the way in the back for creamer every time I make a cup if I'm honest." You pour in a bit of creamer and sugar before handing it over to him. Upon closer inspection, he looks exhausted. Bags under his eyes, hair a little messier than usual, skin lacking it's usually glowing complexion. Before you can even begin to ask about it, however, another client comes in.

   "(Y/N)! I found an old leather-bound edition of Sherlock Holmes at a garage sale, but it's in terrible shape. I was wondering if you could work your magic-oh hey Namjoon!" You glance between the two customers. You're kind of surprised they know each other, but then again she does work just down the street at the publishing house.

   "Oh, hey. How have you been?" Namjoon smiles down at her, but it's rather hollow. All of his normal fun seems to have been sucked right out of him.

   "Oh you know, just trying to pack still. I know Yoongi had the bigger place so it made more sense, but man does being the only one to pack suck." She fumbled around in her bag for a second before pulling out the book she mentioned earlier and handing it over to you carefully. "I know, it's terrible. But I figured if anyone could fix it, you could. What do you think?"

   "Hmm...well it's not going to be easy. The spine is broken, multiple pages are coming out, I'm sure some are torn. But I'm sure that I can get it done. Give me about a week, I should have it ready by then. I'm guessing it'll be at least $250, it might be more. You good with that?" You try to look over the book as gingerly as possible. The poor thing has certainly seen better days.

   "Yeah, that sounds great! Oh, shoot! I'm going to be late. I'll see you guys later, thanks again (y/n)!" You wave to her as she peels back into the rain. The lack of her presence leaves the two of you in silence, save the occasional sounds of slurping coffee and the quiet jazz music you have playing in the background.

   "I've been meaning to ask you, but what's with the elevator music?"

   "It's a bookstore, all bookstores play coffee house music."

   He snorts at your response, and you try not to dwell on the automatic smile it brings to your lips. "Don't you ever get tired of it?"

   "Sure, when I do I'll put on classical. I like when it's just background music, it makes it easier to focus. Besides, that's how my Grandpa always had it. For the longest time, he refused to put in a sound system. Instead, he'd have his old record player here at the front. I still feel kind of bad about convincing him to replace that, but it's so much easier this way."

   "Your Grandpa owned this place?"

   "Oh yeah, for as long as I can remember."

   "And he left it to you, not to your parents?" Namjoon's head is tilted, eyes showing open curiosity before he sees the way you shut down. Your body grows rigid, eyes staring straight into your cup. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

   "It's okay. Family isn't always easy, you know?" You glance up to see the solemn nod he gives before he pulls his phone out of his back pocket.

   "On that note, I've gotta run. Thank you for the cup of coffee, and for letting me chill in here for a bit." You give a quiet goodbye as he leaves the store. While you don't actually know him that well, you hope that whatever it is that's weighing him down is resolved quickly and easily for him. It's a little worrying to see someone who's usually so chipper being so glum.

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

   You hate that you've grown so concerned over a customer. This isn't exactly a job where you can count on people coming in like clockwork, but Namjoon was one of the few exceptions. And perhaps that's why after two weeks of not seeing him you've started to worry over him. It takes that two-week mark for you to finally muster up your courage and march into his tattoo shop. While you've of course walked by many times, you've never actually gone in. It smells like lavender essential oils and a citrus cleaner, the atmosphere is also far more relaxed than you anticipated. "Oh hey, you're the book store lady. I can't believe you actually managed to fix that Sherlock Holmes book." Your head whips around to the front counter to see a man you vaguely remember, Yoongi you think is his name. He must be the one dating your editor client.

   "Oh it wasn't that hard. I've seen far worse. Um..." You can feel your fingers instinctively curl up and pull your sweater lower until they cover your hands before you take a deep breath. "Is Namjoon here by any chance?"

   "Namjoon?" There's a twinkle in Yoongi's eyes as he leans into the counter. "Nope, sorry doll. It's his day off. Why? You interested in getting a piece done by him?"

   "Oh, uh no. Not that I don't like tattoos, I just don't have anything I'm currently interested enough in to commit to. It's just that...well he hasn't stopped by in the shop for a couple of days and I'm just a little concerned. Is he doing ok?"

   "He's going through a bit of a rough patch, but he'll make it through." You can tell that he's clearly analyzing you, the way his eyes narrow and his head tilts. It feels like a very silent interrogation is going on in his head right now, and you aren't a fan of it at all. "I'll tell you what though doll, I'll let him know you stopped by."

   "Oh, no need. I just figured I'd pop in since you guys are so close to my shop. Well...have a nice night."

   "You too, don't be a stranger! Pop in anytime!" You give a fleeting smile before turning around and try to not run straight out of the shop. You suppose that things could have gone worse. But now your curiosity is in overdrive. What rough patch exactly is he going through? Then again, it's none of your business.

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

   You'd like to lie and say that after another month passes by Namjoon has vanished from your thoughts, but that's not true. You can't help but wonder from time to time, especially when you're putting away new inventory, what he's been up to. It's just unsettling having someone come in so often and then almost drop off the face of the earth. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you no longer get a chance to check out his very cute butt a few times a week. Nope.

   When Namjoon does finally wander back into the shop you're startled into complete non-action. What do you say? 'Hey, I hope you've been okay and I know that we don't actually know each other but I'm concerned?' Might come off as creepy, best to just leave it be. So after a moment of staring at him with wide eyes, you manage to croak out a horribly high pitched, "Hello!"

   You'd like to say that he walked in with this glowing aura as if the room lit up around him like some terrible rom-com. But honestly, he looks like he was hit repeatedly with bad news. His eyes are dark and puffy, his skin is a bit of a mess, his hair looks somehow both dry and greasy. The poor man just looks god awful. "Hey. Sorry I uh...haven't been in." He won't look at you, his eyes cast stubbornly on the floor as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

   "No worries. Anything in particular you're looking for today?" You would really like to ask him what the heck is going on to make the usually well put together Namjoon look so haggard, but you don't want to cross any boundaries.

       "Nah. Just...browsing..." His words trail off as he shuffles over to the nearest aisle, and you try not to stare as he starts thumbing through a few books. You also try not to dwell on the surge of warmth that spreads through you at seeing him again.

   You busy yourself with placing price tags on your new inventory as he continues his quiet search. You try to arm yourself with safe small talk you might be able to make before he finally comes back up to the counter with an arsenal of books under his arm that clatter down with soft thuds as they slip out right before he could safely place them. "Ah, sorry about that." He rearranges the books, eyes cast downwards as you shoot him a soft smile.

   "Don't worry about it. So...how have you been?" This time it's your turn to keep your eyes glued on the books instead of on him. God, you normally weren't this nervous but somehow seeing him again after so long is making you a smidge antsy.

   "Busy I guess. Sometimes I wish the world would just stop spinning for a moment so I can collect my thoughts, you know? It's like you think you have it together and bam suddenly you don't."

   "Yeah, I get that feeling. Adulthood is lame, why did we think it was a good idea as kids?" Namjoon snorts and this time you do look up. God he really does look haggard, the poor thing. "But you know what people don't say enough? It's okay to feel lost, it's okay to feel like things are moving while you're stuck. As long as you acknowledge it you can start moving forward. One step at a time. Don't think you have to move to the world's pace. Just move as you can and you'll do great."

   "I could have sworn this was a book store and now I'm starting to feel I should pay you like a therapy fee or something." This time he cracks a smile, his face lighting up as his dimples shine and his smile reaches all the way up to his eyes. It's a good look on him, and you wish that whatever it is that's got him down will be solved soon enough so he can get back to his normal smiles more often.

   "It's a free service for my regulars. But I suppose that means that you'll have to pop in regularly again if you don't want the charge."

   "Scouts honor, I promise I'll be back." He clears his throat after running his card, hands toying with his bag before he speaks again. "I...uh...Yoongi told me that you popped in. Sorry, for....um...being MIA. And I appreciate that you...uh...noticed I guess. God, fuck. I really can't talk today. What I'm trying to say is...I mean I know I'm just a customer or whatever but I really appreciate it. I'll...see you soon." Before you can respond he's rushing out the store, leaving you with rosy cheeks and lower lip stuck nervously between your teeth.

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

   Namjoon stays true to his word. While he isn't as frequent as he once was you've noticed that his visits are usually longer now. In all honesty, you suspect that at this point he visits more for the chats than the books. Or perhaps that's just what you're hoping for, because honestly whenever you do get a chance to speak with him it becomes the highlight of your week. He's witty, kind, and there's something about the way how he can go back and forth between being articulate and eloquent with his words to bumbling around that's utterly charming.

   Your conversations usually revolve around life itself. It never gets too personal, details are never mentioned. It's more about the intricacies of how things work, of how life moves. Sometimes you come close to asking him for more details, asking him more closely what's going on but something always holds you back. Perhaps it's because you're so deeply private, you understand what it feels like to want to hide your wounds from others and you certainly don't want to make him feel as though he's been forced into telling you anything. Besides, it's comfortable this way. It's natural for the two of you to fall into these deep conversations without worrying about prying into each other. It's as if the two of you have been friends for ages without having to delve into all the subtle meanings that might lay behind some of the world-weary cynicism in your conversations.

   Every once in a while you want more. If nothing than to help ease the burden that seems to be superglued onto his shoulders. There might also be some...more carnal...reasons behind that, but you'd rather not dwell on that. You're not even sure if he thinks of you as a friend yet, let alone as a possible romantic suitor. Jesus, maybe you should stop reading all those historical romance novels if you're saying things like "romantic suitor." Who are you kidding, they're too good to stop reading. But try as you might every time your brain thinks about going further or entertaining the notion of asking him out suddenly everything shuts down and all your senses get crossed until you're mute or stumbling over your words. But you're safe in this acquaintanceship, and crossing the line is scary and means for rejection. So for now, you'll remain in the comfort of safety.

------------------3 months later-----------

   "Did your boyfriend come and visit you again today?" Jin has a shit-eating grin on his face before he blows his straw wrapper at you. You're already regretting agreeing to being dragged out of your sanctum and into his competitor's restaurant for this. You love Jin, you do. He has luckily calmed down as he's gotten older, but let's just say that you've bailed him out of jail more than once in college from some crazy nights. He is a man of impulse, and usually spending time outside with him leads to you turning into full blast mom mode.

   "How many times must I tell you that he is not my boyfriend." You ball up the wrapper and throw it at his face before promptly resuming your perusal of the menu.

   "Please, whatever. You want to kiss his face, admit it, love. Wow. How are they my competitors? Do you see this shit? This is pretentious for the sake of being pretentious. I'm sure it'll taste like shit."

   "It better not for the price. My god, $35 for lobster ravioli? I saw it come out earlier, they only had five on a plate! You can't even justify that by saying 'portion control.'" You're praying that by fueling his need to shit talk the restaurant will keep him off track of your desolate love life. Unfortunately, as you're speaking the waiter comes over. Well isn't that just your luck.

   "I can assure you ma'am while it might seem expensive for the size we only use the freshest ingredients. All of them are locally sourced."

   "And which vendors exactly do you go through?" Jin squints at the server with a fire in his eyes that the server clearly wasn't prepared for. Oh, this poor, poor soul. He has no clue just how deep of shit he's landed himself in and you can tell he's floundering for a moment as his eyes go wide and shoulders grow rigid.

   "You know sir, I don't know all of the vendors' names off the top of my head. But I'd be more than happy to ask the chef for you if you'd like?"

   "That would be wonderful. Thank you, what a peach you are in such an...interesting...place." Jin gives a wide smile, one that channels his inner Cheshire cat plotting nefarious outcomes as you sink further into your seat. You love Jin, he is your best friend after all, but you know that look all too well. Competitive is putting it lightly. Sinister is a slightly more apt description and you want nothing more than to dive under the table before he begins to wage war. You had, for whatever naive reason, believed that he would have remained in perfect behavior so as not to blow his cover. Clearly, he had no cover and most likely wanted the head chef to know he was here. Goodbye, peaceful night.

   You watch the server turn on his heels and quickly stride back towards the kitchen. "Now things are getting interesting."

   "Jin no."

   "Jin, yes."

   "Jin..." You try pleading, eyes turned up into maximum puppy capacity but he's long since been impervious to your charms and instead, he just winks at you. You fight the groan bubbling up in your chest as your shoulders sag in defeat.

   "I promise love, this'll be quick and painless. I wouldn't drag you in here without a master plan and so far it's going just swimmingly. Although I would just adore it if the boy making eyes at you from the bar would come over because he is one tall slab of fine and it's a damn shame that he isn't looking at this world-wide handsome face over here because oh honey the things that I would do to him." Your face involuntarily jerks in the direction of the bar only to see Namjoon perched on a stool with a glass of wine looking right back at you. You can feel heat rising up on your cheeks when Jin picks up your hand and forces you to give a wave. And much to your surprise, you see him smile. A genuine smile. The kind that flashes his pearly whites and dimples and has your heart melting and brain overheating.  

   You aren't sure if it's to your relief or disappointment that the server comes back at this time, now with the head chef in tow. "Good evening, I heard you have some questions for-Seokjin." The chef's eyes narrow on Jin's, a crackle of indignant energy fills the area.

   "Why hello Kihyun. According to your lovely server, everything here is locally sourced."

   "You already know that. We use the same vendors."

       "Why yes, yes we do. And yet you still charge your poor customers an arm and a leg for subpar slop."

   "Please Seokjin, it's just not agreeable to hear someone talk down about their own food that way." Jin cackles loudly at this, the sound of windshield wipers roaming in the distance as you glance back to see Namjoon watching the battle with open curiosity.

   "Oh please little man, my food is good and you know it. I just came here to check how the competition is doing seeing as you did the same just last week." You watch the chef sigh wearily as he rubs at his temples while Jin rails on. "What, did you think I wouldn't know? I think it's only fair to return the favor."

   "Fine, I'll make you a deal so long as you keep quiet."

   "Mum's the word, tiny chef."

   "And stop making short jokes." His eyes narrow on Jin as he carelessly throws up his hands as if to admit defeat. "I'll be bringing out our specials momentarily. Only our best for our 'esteemed' guest." You can almost feel the animosity rolling off him in waves as he finger quotes 'esteemed' before stomping off.

   "Well, now that worked out just swimmingly. While we wait for our food how about you go mingle with mister tall dark and handsome?"

   "That's Namjoon, my customer." You dodge a shot of water from Jin's mouth before scrambling when he gets ready to stand up. "No Jin, no no no no no. I beg you, please for the love of all that is holy don't. I can see you scheming and I've been through enough shenanigans thanks to you tonight."

   Ever so slowly he sits back down, but not without giving you a face that lays somewhere between a scowl and a pout. "Fine, ms. party pooper, I won't go. Under one condition and one condition alone. You are in serious need of taking out that stick that's been shoved up your ass for the last 20 something years. So I will only agree to be the polite good boy you so desperately wish I was in public if you go over there and ask him out."

   "What? I can't do that! He's my customer, that...that crosses the line. And besides, he most certainly doesn't see me that way. I don't think he even sees me as a friend. An acquaintance at best. And another thing! I most certainly do not have a stick shoved up my ass, you just put caution to the wind far too often for your own good!" You're trying your best to calm your frenzied nerves by taking in slow steady gulps of air.

   "Do people look at mere acquaintances like they're a slab of steak after not eating for a day? And yes, yes you do have a stick shoved up your ass! I love you kid, but you are pedantically logical to a fault. You overthink, over analyze, and you rarely try to force yourself outside of your comfort zone even if it means sacrificing possible happiness all for the sake of not possibly facing rejection. As your best friend of over a decade, I refuse to continue sitting idly while you continue to ruin possible chances of intrigue. Besides, sitting with you at this rate is going to give me indigestion." Jin takes a swig of his water before narrowing his eyes on you as if to say 'try me bitch, I dare you.' He's right. You really wish he wasn't, but damnit he does actually have a point. Not that you'll ever admit that.

   Fuck, you really wish that you could knock back a stiff drink before this. Okay, just calm down. What's the worst that could happen? You could be rejected, laughed at, and have your heart ripped from your chest and stomped on. But according to Jin, that's not that bad. Not that he's giving you much choice. So here goes nothing. You take a deep breath and march over before Jin can pick you up and hurl you into the direction of the bar.

   "Hi, mind if I join you for a drink?" Act normal, act cool. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. You've got this.

       "Oh, not at all. Please." Namjoon gives you another smile, and you take a moment to glance at his profile. He looks better today. Gradually he's been getting his old color back. You can hardly make out the bags under his eyes in the dim mood lighting of the restaurant. "What do you drink?"

   "Hm, oh well..." Your eyes dance over the spirits lining the back. Jesus, they don't even have jack. They have plenty of brandy though. "I guess I'll have whatever you're having. Mix things up a bit, you know?"

   He perks a brow up at you before waving over the bartender who's clearly been waiting patiently on the side. "I'll get two more." It's only a moment before a short glass of brandy is placed in front of you. You eye it for a moment before knocking it back, ignoring the burn that tears through your throat.

   "Jesus, rough day?" Namjoon's brow is quirked as he motions at the now empty glass.

   "More like a rough night."

   "Boyfriend problems?" Namjoon jerks his head back to Jin and you can't help but let out a loud laugh. The kind that sounds more like a cackle, a deep snort from the back of the throat and all.

   "Jin? No, god no. He's a friend. Also, he plays for the other team."

   "Oh, oooh!" He seems to relax at this revelation, sinking into his seat a bit more before sipping at his drink. "Well I'm sorry that you've had a rough night, maybe the liquor will make it better."

   "How about you Joon? Things going okay for you lately?" You try not to stare openly, instead gauging his reactions with a side-eye. He gives a simple shrug, running his hands through his hair before knocking back the rest of the drink.

   "Who knows. But I'm taking it one day at a time as a wise birdy once suggested."

   There's a lull in the conversation for a moment as you try to mull over what to say next, head swimming through all your possible small talk cards but none seeming right for the situation. "So-"

   "Um!" The two of you stop, Namjoon giving a small chuckle. "Sorry, go ahead."

   "Oh! Uh...I was just going to ask if you wanted to talk about...you know...whatever has been going on. It might help to open up."

   Namjoon pauses, shifting a bit in his seat as he slowly nods. "Ex drama? I guess? That makes it sound so high school." He gives a deep sigh, his hands gripping around his empty glass before slowly continuing. "I was engaged last year. We'd been together a long time, we'd even lived together for a couple of years. But after we moved out here or I don't know maybe even before that she decided that she needed to get a feel for other things. And by other things I mean other dicks. I learned that lovely fact when I walked in on her and some random dude who turned out to be her longtime side-piece or whatever. She came back into the shop a few months ago begging me to start over with her. And I don't know why but I thought maybe this time we could make it work, maybe this time things would be right. Her old habits didn't die though. So we ended things about a month back officially, this time for good."

   After a decent pause you finally pipe up, your earlier hesitance now masked with the alcohol that's slowly working through your brain. "She's an idiot. And a bitch. I say fuck her! Wait no, not like 'go fuck her' but as in I wish to acquaint her ass with a rusty sword." The full belly laughter he gives is worth your blunder with words. He lights up, and the sound has blood rushing to your cheeks.

   He wipes away a stray tear as he swivels around to face you. "Thanks, I appreciate that. And please, remind me to stay away from rusty swords if I ever accidentally piss you off. I've gotten a lot of advice from people recently, a lot of 'it'll get better' or 'she was wrong' but I think my favorite is the depiction of a rusty sword so thank you for the laugh."

   "No problemo, I'm here to help even if that means with impromptu comedic relief." Again silence returns, but this time it's comfortable. It almost always is around him, as if Namjoon brings peace and comfort to you every time you see him. It's safe around him. Safe to be you, safe to just relax. You aren't used to that, most men make you feel on edge. As if you have to be two steps ahead. Perhaps it's due to your mutual problems with the opposite gender. Or maybe it's just his personality.

   "Hey..." His quiet voice pulls you out of his thoughts and you jerk up to see his eyes cast stubbornly on the floor. "Feel free to say no or something but um, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get out of here with me? Maybe just walk around the city for a bit or something?"

   "There's a park a couple of blocks down from here actually, it's usually pretty quiet and there's even a little koi pond. Oh! But we'll need to pop into the grocery store to pick up lettuce first."

   "Can...can koi fish eat lettuce?"

   "Oh yeah! They love greens! I used to feed them bread but I found out it's hard for them to digest. They also really like garlic and shrimp."

   "I...I don't know what to do with this information."

   "Use it for the powers of good, and to keep Koi fish happy. So what do you say? Wanna go feed some Koi fish lettuce?"

   "Yeah! Yeah, oh but shouldn't you tell your friend?"

   You glance back at Jin to see him in the middle of what appears to be an amicable discussion (at least from the outside) with the head chef. You choose to send off a quick text while Namjoon slaps down a few bills, "done. Let's go!"

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

   It's not long before the two of you are tossing off bits of lettuce to hungry Koi fish. It was most likely an odd site for others to take in. The two of you were silently standing in front of the pond, taking turns tearing off strips from a head of lettuce and sipping from a dangerously cheap bottle of sangria. It didn't help that this area of the park had dim, ominously flickering lighting making the whole thing look stranger. Yet neither of you seemed to mind.

   It was oddly relaxing being here. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was actually heart warming. There's always been something about Namjoon's presence that's left you feeling fuzzy and floating. As if cocooned in safety under a pillow fort with plenty of blankets while a blizzard rages outside. Your eyes are trained on the Koi fish that jump up, gulping up the pieces of lettuce greedily and illuminated in the fluorescent yellow lighting cutting in and out every few seconds.

   "These guys really know how to eat." You glance up at the sound to see Namjoon smiling as he throws in another strip of the leafy greens. "I should have guessed that of all people you would be the one to take me to the middle of nowhere in a city just to feed fish at nearly midnight."

   "I'll take that as a compliment."

   "It is indeed. Do you know why I love going to your bookstore so much? I never know what I'm going to find. You always have an odd assortment of treasures but you also seem to know all of them. I've been inside plenty of bookstores and while they all have their own special ambiance that books tend to carry your's is otherworldly. It's like I step through a portal when I come into your shop. Like all is well with the world. But I'm starting to think it's not about the place. It's you." He glances over to give you a shy smile before quickly returning his sights on the pond.

   "Oh, I don't know I think it's probably the store. Maybe it's just rubbed off on me. When I was a kid I would try to spend all my time there with my grandpa. It was a safe haven, this little chunk of the world where I knew I could always get lost and find freedom even if the world was falling apart outside."

   "That sounds really deep for a kid. I guess it's my turn to ask, do you want to talk about it?"

   You take a moment to pause, sipping on the acidic sangria before nodding slowly. You suppose it's only fair to share just as he did. "My parents should have gotten a divorce way sooner than they did. The vast majority of my childhood is a blur of trying to run away from their fights. It never got physical, but the verbal abuse the two of them flung at each other was astronomical. I can remember distinctly thinking once as I read a book that had these lovely happy parents that that was the most fictional part of the whole thing. Harry Potter was more likely to be realistic than that bullshit. I think when I was thirteen and I got asked out for the first time I told the poor boy that love was a scam and I wasn't about to fall for it. I've tried dating a few times but I always think back on my parents and before things can ever progress I try to leave. I guess you could say I have commitment issues to everything in life but work. Jin, the guy at the restaurant, he's always trying to get me to loosen up. Have fun. But I just feel like it's all pointless. Why bother when it's all going to fall apart anyway?"        

   You let out a heavy, world-weary sigh out before chucking the last bit of lettuce into the pond. Namjoon gives you a moment of silence, either to be polite or to gather his thoughts. Or perhaps you've scared him off. You're not really sure of the reasoning behind his muteness but you're too lost in your own thoughts to dwell on it.

   Finally, Namjoon takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry that you went through that. I know it might sound absurd coming from me, but what's so bad about believing in romance? In the fairy tale ever after? In believing that sometimes things can go right? Maybe I'm a buffoon for still being a hopeless romantic after everything I've been through but I think the saddest part in all of that was that you gave up before you even tried. There's a lot to explore in life beyond your comfort zones. It might not always be good, but I think that's the beauty of it. Sometimes the bad makes us appreciate the good all that much more."

   You're torn between wanting to stare in awe at him for managing to actually feel this way after everything he's been through and wanting to smack him upside his face and tell him to wake up. But that's the cynic in you speaking. The cynic that awoke in you far too early in life has still after all these years refused to die. If reincarnation is real then perhaps you were fucked over in love previously as well and that's why your feelings are so intense. It's probably just your shitty childhood that you try to avoid remembering at all costs. After a moment of tense silence, you finally speak up. "How...how can you still feel that way?"

   "Because the world is a sad lonely place and I want to believe that there's something better out there. I don't mean like soulmates bullshit or anything, just that you shouldn't give up when you find a really good person. Love takes two to tango, and for whatever reason, your parents lost sight of that. But the real fucked up thing is that you still carry that with you as an adult as if it's your burden to carry. But it's not. Imagine if I said that it's my fault I was cheated on, how would you feel?"

   "But it wasn't your fault. She was a blind idiot who made terrible life choices."

   "Exactly, and it's not your fault that your parents were bumbling idiots who didn't understand how to effectively communicate with one another." He takes a swig of the sangria before hooking one of his arms over your shoulder and you take a moment to admire the inky artwork under the night sky as he lowers his voice. "So you know what I say? It's time both of us stop ruminating in pain. I say we let it all go, right now."

   "And how, pray tell, do we go about this?"

   "I say we just scream everything out into the night. Just let it all go."

   "I'm sorry what?" You squint up at him, your brain freezing as you try to make sense of his therapy method.

   "You know, everything we've bottled up just fucking let it out. Let it go. Here, I'll go first." He takes another swig of the sangria before tilting his face up at the moon. "Fuck you, Jessica! Fuck you and your fucking boy toy. I was good enough! I tried so hard to make it work and you still couldn't be bothered to put in any effort! It wasn't fair! And another thing, fuck your stupid fucking mom for always shitting on my tattoos and thinking her bitchy daughter was perfect!" You're quick to plug your ears as he shouts at full volume, eyes scanning the park praying that no one is nearby to call the cops on the two of you. After a theatrical sigh, he turns around, plants both hands on your shoulders as he leans down and says, "Okay kid, it's your turn."

   There's frenetic energy hanging in the air and while you want to laugh and tell him this is ridiculous there's something that stops you from holding back for once. So you follow suit and tilt your head up as you begin to scream, "Fuck you dad for placing unrealistic expectations on how women should behave! Fuck you mom for thinking the only thing men were worth was money! Fuck both of you for caring more about fighting than nurturing your only fucking kid! Fuck you for leaving me to fend for myself all the time! I just wanted love from you! I want to fall in love, I want to believe that you two were wrong! I want someone to look at me like I look at the last slice of cheese pizza! I want someone to care about me the way I deserve to be cared for!" By the time you get halfway through your monologue, you can feel a weight shifting off your shoulders. Rather literally as Namjoon plugs his ears, but also emotionally. Spiritually. It's as if something is born in you. As if under all that hate you've held onto for so long there's still that glimmer of hope.

   When you've finally stopped screaming, your lungs are on fire and hot tears are trickling down your cheeks. Slowly you begin to hear the sound of Namjoon golf clapping in front of you. "Bravo young grasshopper, bravo. You finally said how you really felt. So tell me, how do you feel now?"

   "I...feel different. Lighter. How...how about you Namjoon?"

   "Pretty fantastic, but that might be the shitty sangria talking." He gives a wide grin at the giggles that bubble out of you before handing over the sangria.

   The rest of the night flies by in a tipsy blur, the two of you talking about life and your own choices and how you've come to your own points in life. Normally you'd have run away by now, but you realized something tonight by screaming out into the void with him. You've always run away, you've refused to face life head-on. It's still a scary thought, but the alcohol numbs it easily and then there's the fact that nothing seems as intimidating when Namjoon's nearby.

---------4 months later-------

   It's almost impossible for you to now think of a time when Namjoon was simply a customer and not a good friend. The two of you, much to Jin's delight, are rather inseparable. You have lunch together most days of the week. Sometimes the two of you will hang out and watch movies together, or go back to the park to feed the always hungry koi fish. On a few occasions, Namjoon has even tagged along with you to go bug Jin to feed the two of you. This time though you find yourself without your new partner in crime as you stuff your face with homemade pasta by Jin.

   "Please try to breathe in between bites. I don't know CPR." Jin pokes one of your cheeks as you try to quickly chew.

   "Sorry I was just really hungry. Also, I have something I wanted to tell you!"

   "You finally professed your undying love for Joony boy?"

   He quickly dodges the napkin you throw at him before blowing you a raspberry. "No, I told you we aren't like that. But it is about Joon! His parents have a beach house that he wants to go to so he invited us to come over next weekend."

   "Oh drat, unfortunately, I have plans."

   "That is such bullshit. You were literally just bitching about how you don't have anything to do next weekend because that new boy toy, Jimin or whatever, is going on a trip for work."

   "I decided just now that I'm going to go visit Jimin to see his performance. You know, be supportive." He sighs at the glare you send him. "Okay, so I didn't decide that. I'd rather stick my head in my far too expensive convection oven than drive five hours just to get blue balls from watching him dance. But I also refuse to step in the way of what I really hope is time for you to finally get laid."

   "I told you Jin, he's just a friend."

   This time it's Jin's turn to scoff. "Oh, sure princess. Whatever you say. The two of you basically eye fuck each other every time you come over to steal my food."

   "WE DO NOT."

   "Do fucking too! What I just don't understand is why you can't admit it. He's a great catch, why are you holding back? You even told me yourself that it was time for you to start moving on with life. You know, get past all of your cynical doom and gloom mentality that everything will inevitably fall apart. So the real question is, why are you holding back from happiness still? Even after all that 'ra ra I'm going to get my shit together' you've been spouting for months now?"

   Your anger dissipates quickly, all air leaving your lungs for a moment as you stare at the floor unable to look at Jin's oddly serious gaze. The silence drags on until finally you quietly speak up. "Namjoon just got out of a really serious relationship. Jessica really hurt him you know, it wasn't one of those 'oh we just grew apart' type of situations. And even though he was so broken the first time he tried again and I think that time might have been worse. The first time it seems like he was just angry, the second time was when he felt anguish. I...I don't just like Namjoon. I love him. Every time I'm around him I feel so happy like the world lights up and all the color comes back. It's so easy being around him, I know I can just be myself and I'm safe. But I don't want to throw these feelings at him when he's probably still healing. I don't want to be a rebound. I watched my parents get divorced with each other and jump into relationship after relationship with other people just to fill that void. I want to be more than that. I want this to be something that works for a long time. I'm tired of running from commitment so I've decided I'll wait. I'll wait until he makes a move first."

   "Did you never stop to ask yourself if maybe he's waiting for the same thing? I mean honey, it's painfully obvious he feels the same way. He knows that you've never really tried to be in a relationship, he might be waiting for you too. So then what? The two of you just go in circles until someone grows tired of it and leaves? I think it's noble of you to be patient and wait, but I also think that's an easy way out for you. Making the first move is scary, and I think that by saying you're waiting for him to be all healed up you're actually just pushing off the notion of rejection. If you don't say anything then you'll be safe. If you say something you might hear something you don't want to hear. So while I do believe you actually feel that you want to make sure this isn't a rebound, I think that a much larger portion of this is still you just running away."

   Jin sighs softly at the crestfallen look that takes over your place, gingerly wrapping you up in his arms before he continues. "Of all the people I've known in life I can't say any of them have been as brilliant, strong, sweet, and funny as you. You're the type of person that when you love you love with all your heart. I just want to see you be happy, I want you to realize that you are worth all the loves and hugs and kisses that you've told yourself are empty and meaningless. It's okay to go slow if you need to, but as your best friend, I'm rooting for you. And as a person who has seen the way that Joony looks at you I feel it's safe to say that you should try moving forward. But I don't want to push you if you're too nervous you know? Just one step at a time kiddo."

   Words fail you, as much as you'd like to argue or try to tell him he's wrong he isn't. Jin has always been quick to catch on to these things, and you had a sinking suspicion that he would say something about it all soon enough anyway. You nestle your face further into the crook of his neck and inhale the comforting scent of his fabric softener. After taking a moment to have your two brain cells muster up something to say you simply shuffle away and give him a quiet thank you. The warm smile you receive back in turn is all that either of you need.

-------The next weekend------

   You've been through a rollercoaster of emotions in the last week, although the anxiety you've felt has always loomed somewhere on the ride. Sometimes in the front seat, sometimes somewhere in the back just waiting for the drop to happen. Now that the day is finally here the nerves are present more than ever. Somehow everyone else who was invited fell through and it's now just the two of you. The rational, logical side of your brain says that this was extremely last minute and therefore difficult for others to rearrange their schedules to come with. Your gut argued that all the others had decided to give the two of you space. Perhaps to encourage the feelings you've been secretly fostering, and not very well according to Jin.

   Namjoon had made the trip out to the beach house before you, thank goodness. The two-hour drive had given you ample time to try to rationalize everything and see all the various possibilities this weekend held in store in the sanctum of privacy. Of course, you've also been doing this all week prior, but on the drive, it went into overtime. The most likely options you foresee from this weekend are:

   A. You get up the courage to ask him out and he turns you down flat.

   B. You get up the courage to ask him out and he says yes. The two of you ride off into the sunset on the beach where a dolphin will flip over a rainbow and all is well in the world.

   C. You fumble awkwardly through the weekend and end up saying nothing.

   Strangely enough, while you see option C as being the most plausible, you also want that one to happen the least. At least with rejection, you can move on, in that sense Jin is right. But if you end up missing your chance to shoot your shot you don't know how the game could have ended. By the time you pull into the driveway of the house you've made up your mind. On Monday, right before the two of you leave, you'll say something. You aren't sure how yet, but for once you're just going to put caution to the wind and try not to overthink it. At least that's what you were trying to convey to your measly remaining brain cells.

   You take a deep breath and grab your backpack in the seat next to you. It's now or never. Showtime baby. You can do this. You can do this. You can-before you even get a chance to ring the doorbell Namjoon is ripping open the door. His hair looks freshly dried and fluffy. His eyes seem to light up and his pearly whites flash at you as he gives you an excited smile. Fuck. You don't think you'll make it through this weekend sane, not if it's just going to be the two of you. "Hey! Come on in! Make yourself at home!" He reaches down to grab your backpack before his warm hand slips into yours and he's dragging you into the refreshing AC. "Your room is just right over here. The bathroom is next door. I just ordered us some pizza it should be here any minute. I got just cheese for you, I wasn't sure what toppings you like."

   His words fly out a mile a minute but your brain trudges through everything slowly, your thoughts are instead focusing on the way his hand feels on yours. They're slightly calloused, much larger than you realized, and painfully perfect. My god, is there anything about this man you don't like? At the realization that you've already entered your room and Namjoon's head is tilted as if waiting for some sort of response you finally manage to spit out, "that's great. Cheese pizza is super great." Get it together brain cells! "Um, this place looks amazing."

   "You haven't even seen the best parts yet. It's a shame that none of the other guys could make it, but I'm glad you could come. Going to the beach by yourself just screams midlife crisis and honestly, I don't think I'm ready to be there just yet. I want to get a few more years under my belt before facing an age inspired existential crisis, you know? Uh, so anyway..." His eyes roam around the room before he shoots you another smile, "Do you...do you want me to show you around a bit first or would you rather unpack?"

   "Um, I think I'll unpack and then you can show me everything."

   "Cool, sounds great. I uh, I'll just go then. But if you need anything just holler!" In a blink of an eye, he's out the door. Leaving you alone with just your sluggish thoughts and backpack.

   You weren't really sure why you had told him you needed to unpack. It's not like you were going to be here for more than a few days, so there wasn't much need. And yet here you are, taking your sweet ass time unpacking toiletries and all of the extra underwear you brought with because uteruses can't be trusted. You stare down at the bathroom counter after unpacking the last bits of makeup and skincare products before leaving the room.

   You follow the wafting scent of pizza, it looks like somehow you had missed the sound of its arrival. In the fit of nerves earlier in the morning you had opted to not eat, and if the whale mating calls your stomach is making that decision is clearly catching up with you. You find the two pizza boxes right next to Namjoon out on the porch and you waste no time grabbing the largest slice before flopping down next to him.

   "It's beautiful out here today. Thanks again for joining me."

   "Are you kidding me? I'm getting basically a free vacation to chill at the beach. And I get to spend it with the second biggest book nerd I know. How could I possibly turn down the offer? Thank you for inviting me. I appreciate Joony." You don't miss the way the tips of his ears burn a bright red as he stuffs his face with another slice of pizza. You also don't miss that its fucking pineapple. "Are you really eating what I think you're eating? Please say that this is a mirage."

   "What? Pineapple tastes great, especially on pizza."

   "My god. I've heard of monsters like you, but I had never believed the myths. I thought...I thought the world just made up your kind to scare children into eating even the crappiest slices of cafeteria pizza at lunch."

   "You take that back! Don't you dare call this tastebud explosion of love monstrous! You know what, I bet that you're the type of person who eats mint chocolate chip ice cream. Those are the real monsters."

   "HOW DARE YOU! Mint chocolate chip is delicious!" How can someone so handsome, so witty, so great all around have the worst fucking taste in food?

   "It tastes like someone fucking smothered good chocolate icecream in toothpaste. And yet you dare desecrate the majesty that is pineapple pizza? Salty, sweet, perfection?" Before you can even respond he's forcing a bite of the vile concoction into your mouth. You have no choice but to chew. Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. "See it's not that-oh my god are you going to throw up?" The heaving noises you make has him quickly rushing next to you, abandoning his evil ways for but a moment as he pats your back soothingly before bursting into a fit of giggles when you finally breathe again.

   "'S not funny Joon! Don't you laugh at me!"

   "I'm sorry, I swear I'm not laughing at you. It's just...that was such an over the top reaction." He wipes away a stray tear before smooshing your cheeks when you pout at him. "Okay, I promise that I'll never make you eat it again. But you know what I also think? I think we should set our opinions aside and agree that the true evil food is anchovies on pizza."

   You glare at him, words coming out wobbly with your lips smushed between his hands. "Thisth isth unfortunately true. Fine, I promisthe I won't bring up your poor tashte in food again under the agreeancthe that anchoviesth on pizza isth the fucking worsht." He stays there for a moment longer before finally dropping his hands from your face.

   "Alright well now that's been resolved, what do you say we do after eating? Movie? Beach? Plotting how to take down anchovy pizza lovers?"

   "Well, we did come all the way out here. It would be rather ridiculous to not spend time by the beach. Besides, that water looks awfully inviting. Say, what do your parents even do to afford digs like this?"

   "Ah, my father is a doctor and my mother is a lawyer."

    "Cripes, how did they feel about you pursuing a creative job like tattooing?"

   He gives a noncommittal shrug at this. "Not much, they just wanted me to be happy. At first, they thought I should stay in school, but considering I went in for philosophy they quickly decided that this was at least a fruitful endeavor. Besides, I make more than they did at my age and I didn't have to bury myself in debt to do it."

   "I can totally see you as a philosophy major. I can't believe I didn't see that sooner. It's cool that your parents didn't shit all over your work though. They sound like good people."

   He lights up at this, his eyes twinkling as he regales you with childhood stories and about how he got into the business to begin with. By the time the two of you are full, you feel as if you've learned all about Namjoon's family. His parents were college sweethearts, he's a complete mama's boy, and he has a younger sister he adores who's currently studying abroad as a journalism major. The sun is already beginning to go down, the tide rising up before the two of you trudge back inside to change.

   Once you've changed and headed back outside the sky is brilliant shades of creamy oranges and neon pinks that contrast beautifully with the brilliant blue of the ocean. You don't even want to think about how much his parents paid for this view. You also can't even fathom how someone can make enough to afford this as just a summer home. You throw down your towel before quickly stepping into the ocean, relishing the feeling of the chilly water in the sweltering heat before turning around at the sound of Namjoon calling out your name. Good lord, this weekend might be the end of you. You had somehow forgotten that beaches meant shirtless Namjoon. You've seen his sleeves, of course, the left one an intricate Japanese style piece with his right arm covered in various neo-traditional pieces. But what's grabbing your attention now is three things. One: he has very impressive pecs, something you didn't see coming. You had assumed for whatever reason that he didn't have the time to work out. Apparently, you were wrong. Two: He has multiple script pieces tattooed on the sides of his torso. Three: He has a happy trail and your eyes are refusing to budge and you're now openly ogling.

   "Say cheese!" Before you can blink he's snapping a picture with a Polaroid. Not one of the newer ones that have come out, no this looks like it was imported straight out of the '70s. He jogs closer to you before wrapping his arm gently around your waist, pulling you in as he angles the camera and snaps another one. You can feel your cheeks heat up at the proximity, your skin tingling under his gentle touch even after he pulls away to run back to the patio and set the old camera safely away from the sand and water. Fuck what are you going to do? Are you really going to be able to make it through this whole weekend without pouncing on him? Is it just you that feels like there's a slight buzz of sexual tension, has it been so long since you've last gotten laid that now you're imagining things?

   Your thoughts are spinning around when he returns to your side, your hearing only picking up on the tail end of what he was saying, "-it's going to look great in my scrapbook!"

   "What?"

   "The pictures. I was saying the pictures came out awesome with the sunset in the background. Are you okay?"

   "Yeah, just kind of spacey. Carb coma I think. You have a scrapbook?"

   "Yup! Ever since my dad gave me his old Polaroid when I was in high school I've kept scrapbooks." This just isn't fair. No grown man should be this cute. If you just take out his terrible taste in food and ability to destroy things just by breathing in its direction he really is perfect. Man, you are so fucked. He really isn't making it easy for you to give up.

   "I'd like to see them sometime. The scrapbooks, that is." He lights up at this, nodding animatedly as he wades further into the water.

   "Yeah! I mean, they aren't the best done but I like being able to look back on all the fun memories sometimes you know?" This is a good sign right, he's already seeing this as a fun memory. That means he thinks of you positively. Right? This means that your odds may be higher in favor than you anticipated. Maybe.

   For the next few minutes, the two of you simply bask in the beauty of the sunset. Jitters seem to fade, your ever-present anxiety even catching the hint and letting you just enjoy the night for a moment. "It's beautiful out here. Thank you again for inviting me, Joon."

   "Anytime. I used to come out here all the time. You would think that when I moved closer I would spend more time over here, it's not like I had to drive six hours. But work and life got in the way. And then at a certain point, it just seemed meaningless if I'm just going alone. Of all the people I invited I really just wanted you to come. I felt like you would appreciate the ordinary beauty of it, the simplicity of just wading in the ocean as the moon starts to come out and the stars light up the sky."

   "And how exactly did you decide that I, of all people, would appreciate the scenery? You aren't wrong, but now I'm curious." You sink deeper into the water until the waves crash around your waste and you can finally feel relief from the sweltering heat lingering even into the evening.

   "Because that's just who you are. You see the extraordinary in the ordinary. It's just the way you operate, I knew that about you the first time you ever fixed up my childhood worn and torn Harry Potter books. Even though they weren't these amazing collector pieces you treated them with such care and brought them back to a state better than brand new. From that moment on I knew that you were the type of person who could appreciate the subtle complexities that make life all that much better. And the more I've gotten to know you the further you've deepened this conviction. I mean who else would take me out to feed koi fish lettuce in a city in the middle of the night? Who else would drive me over an hour to the outskirts just for the best matcha latte they've ever had only to spend more than an hour discussing the process of making it with the owner? Or take me to an art gallery just to tell me about how the janitor deserves more recognition for his street murals? I mean sure, you might have terrible tastebuds and be unable to see the glory in pineapple on pizza, but I'm willing to overlook that character flaw because it's you. Because honestly you could do just about anything and I'd-"

   You cut him off abruptly, your lips melding onto his with slightly too much force and knocking you both slightly off balance when the wave hits, the two of you tumbling into the shallow waters. It still doesn't exactly dawn on you what's going on, your brain is still narrowly focused on how soft his lips felt under yours for that nanosecond before you're drawn out by Namjoon's barking laughter.

   "I never would have expected you to actually sweep me off my feet. I assumed it was supposed to be hyperbole, not a physical action. I guess I should learn to expect the unexpected with you." Before you can respond, he's hoisting you out of the water and his hands are placed gently on the small of your back as he leans down and places a featherlight kiss on you. It's almost uncertain, a kiss that's testing the waters asking for approval. It's magical, the way he feels against you. It's as if music will start playing and the little mermaid is about to burst forth and congratulate the two of you. The second kiss is firmer, one that you initiate as you tug at his hair and lean up on your tiptoes just to get all that much closer. When you break away for a moment he's quick to pull you back in, and this time you can feel your toes want to curl, your knees go weak and your brain grows dizzy as he nips at your lower lip and his tongue slips into your mouth. You might have to rethink this pineapple business after all.

   You've dreamt of this moment a thousand times, wondering from perhaps the moment he first stumbled into your small little shop what he would be like. And yet in all of your various daydreams (and wet dreams if you're very honest) you still never pictured it being so perfect. It's that mix of gentle timidity at the beginning that melds into an all-consuming passion that's just so Namjoon and just so right. It's addictive, a new kind of high you want to chase forever. "I don't think you know just how long I've wanted to do that."

   "I really wish you would have sooner, but I'm glad you did now because if I'm perfectly honest I was way too nervous to do it first." He presses his forehead gently on yours as he speaks, his hands moving rhythmically along the small of your back as he holds you tighter. God bless Jin and the others for refusing to come so you could finally have this moment. "So that being said, can I kiss you again?"

   "Please do." You're barely louder than a whisper, your eyes focused on the way his lips quirk up and dimples show before he's kissing you again. It's slower this time, longer. There's something more sensual looming underneath it this time. The way his hands pull you in closer, hands gripping your hips tightly. The way your tongues dance together. The feeling of desire coils up in your belly as a soft moan falls out of your lips when his hand roams tentatively lower until he's kneading at the soft flesh of your ass. If there's an award for best kisser then you have no doubt that Namjoon deserves it.

       The only thing that breaks the two of you out of your trance is the sounds of a group of people encroaching closer into witnessing what should be private bliss. The two of you glance over to see people setting up a bonfire not too terribly far away before looking back at each other. His hands remain in place for just a moment longer before he reluctantly pulls back and nods his head in the direction of his parent's summer home. "I suppose we should go inside now." His hand laces together with yours when you nod softly, leading you back without an ounce of worry or rushing. It's as if he's silently telling you that the two of you will have all the time in the world. So you reciprocate this possible hidden sentiment with an equally silent agreeance by squeezing his hand a few times.

   It doesn't take long for the two of you to hang up your towels and be right back inside. For a moment the silence just hangs in the air, the only noises heard are the distant partiers outside and the hum of the chilly AC when it kicks to life. "So...do you want to watch a movie?" Namjoon's words come out slightly rough and hoarse as if he hasn't spoken in hours.

   "Sure, we can do that. Whatever you pick I'm fine with. I'll just go take a shower and change real quick first." What you really want to do is jump his bones and drag him to the nearest soft landing spot. It's been a long time since you've felt lust consume you in such a carnal way. But you aren't sure if he's asking if you want to watch movies for his sake or yours. Perhaps he wants to take things slow. Either way, you figure that if perchance the two of you do decide to do something it might be best to wash off the salty ocean water currently drying out your skin.

       It isn't long before you've returned to the living room, this time clad in comfy warm sweat pants and a t-shirt. You find that Namjoon seems to have done the same and is currently lounging on the sofa as he browses through the international movie section of Netflix. If you're honest you're not much of a movie buff, but there's something about how excited he gets about watching obscure indie films from around the world that lights you up inside. "Hey, I'm kind of thinking of watching this one. It's about purgatory but it's not a horror movie, it says it's a coming of age movie."

   "A coming of age movie about purgatory, is that even possible?" You slide into the spot next to him on the couch, casting a quirked eyebrow at him before looking back at the screen. "Now I'm curious to see how they work that out. I say we watch it." There's a hum of content that leaves him as he starts up the movie before tossing a blanket over the two of you and bringing you closer to him. He smells like sandalwood and cinnamon, an earthy spicy blend that you inhale deeply as you nestle into his shoulder. You suppose there's a lot that the two of you still need to work out, still need to figure out or actually say. But right now everything feels so right, so cozy. As if the world has finally stopped spinning long enough for the two of you to just enjoy the moment.

   One of his arms is wrapped around your shoulders while you lace your hand with the free one. You never noticed before but he has much larger hands than yours. It's comforting in a sense, the feeling of just being in his arms cloaks you with safety and squashes any anxiety. But the desire is still looming in the distance as you take in the sight of him. The domestic side of him you haven't seen often. Freshly showered, in pajamas, his skin glowing with a soft tan and hair drying in floppy waves. It shouldn't excite you this much, but you can still feel the lingering sensation of his hands gripping your ass as his teeth nibble on your lower lip and now you want more. You want so much more. You want to feel him, you want to explore everything he has to offer.

   He casts a glance to the side to see you staring at him, a shy smile coming over his face. "Aren't you going to watch the movie?"

   "I kind of really want to kiss you again. I think that sounds far more interesting, no offense to the movie or anything." You watch Namjoon's eyes grow wide, his ears burning a bright cherry red as your hand snakes up his neck and you move in closer. "May I? Kiss you that is?" You watch him nod slowly before you inch in closer, your lips slowly melding with his. But you want more, and this peck is just the beginning. When he finally starts to reciprocate you twist and shuffle until you're straddling his lap. There is no uncertainty now, just a needy passion that consumes each movement. His hands begin to finally roam, slowly gliding up the back of your thighs to your ass until the creep forward yet again and he's moving to the hem of your shirt. He breaks away slowly, a thin trail of saliva breaking off as his gaze moves between your lips and your eyes.

   "Can I...take off your shirt?" You might have nodded a smidge too enthusiastically if the light chuckle you get in response is anything to go by. But at this point, you're too far gone to care if you look a little needy. Even just the brush of his knuckles against your bare skin as he tugs your shirt up and over feels scorching hot. The way his molten brown eyes take everything in, searching greedily, has your desire spinning further out of control. You can't remember the last time a partner of yours has looked at you this way, as if you're the finest delicacy they've ever seen and they want nothing more than to just dive in. Your lips connect hungrily to his neck as his hands snake up to unlatch your bra.

   "You're so beautiful, you know that?" His words are gruff with desire as you tug off his shirt and admire the firm planes of his stomach. For a moment everything stops, the two of you simply drink in the sights of one another until you're back on each other in a frenzy. You aren't sure when or how it happens but it feels like in just a fraction of a second the two of you are finally bare, and now you've twisted around with his face just inches away from your pussy. "I can't wait to taste you, you don't know how many times I've thought of this. How many times I’ve thought of how you’d feel, (y/n). How you’d sound when you moan my name."

   His eyes flicker up to yours for a moment as his hands stroke softly at the inside of your thighs. There's something softer in his gaze, something that says while he wants you physically he's also wanted this emotionally for some time. "Please taste me already Joon, I want to feel you already." He gives a small grunt in response before his tongue is licking a wide stripe along your dripping cunt. The sensation has your nerves on fire, your neck falling back into the couch as you grab onto his hair. He moves in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. His tongue delves between your folds and always comes up to plant a smattering of wet kisses on your clit. Each brush of his tongue has you moaning, each time his teeth scrape by with just enough pressure you can feel that familiar coil wind tighter. "Fuck, you're really good at this."

   It shouldn't be legal for your heart to melt over the dimples that appear when his face is literally buried in your pussy. But with Namjoon there's always this air of domestic bliss, a safe haven of comfort, the shines through even in the most carnal debauchery. The praise seems to drive him forward, his mouth latching onto your clit as two fingers slowly stretch you out. When his fingers curl up at just the right spot you can feel your climax hurtle closer, but you don't want it just yet. You want to feel him inside you, you want to finally feel full of nothing but him before your release. "Stop, stop Joony I'm going to come if you don't stop. I wanna cum with you-fuck-inside me." That finally gets his attention, his fingers finally snake out and you watch him pop them into his mouth with delight before his hands tug your hips closer to him.

   This time your kisses are sloppy, needy, and rushed. The taste of your tangy arousal on his tongue has small moans of delight bubbling out of you. "Fuck, I really want you. I can't wait to feel you." He pauses for a moment to stare down at the couch and you can tell that his gears are slowly grinding underneath the haze of lust. "I think I have a condom somewhere in my luggage. Give me a moment, I'll be right back." Before you can nod in response he's already taken off, your eyes glued to his ass as he runs away. If you thought he had a cute ass before, it looks all that much better without the clothing.

   After a minute or so of radio silence, you hear a loud crash, some banging, and muffled cursing. "You okay Joon?" You're quick on your feet and when you open the door you see his luggage strewn about on the floor with a large lamp laying next to it. "Oh, I hate when lamps try to run away from me. But really, are you okay?"

   "Physically, just fine. The only thing that's been damaged is my pride. Good news though, I did manage to find that condom!" He presents the gold foil with childlike glee, his smile reaching from ear to ear and you can't help but laugh. "Wait! I should probably mention that I didn't even pack them, Yoongi's fiance did saying that I really needed to get laid so I swear, this wasn't some large diabolical-"

   "Joon, it's fine. I'm glad you have a condom because I would really, really like to fuck you." The atmosphere shifts again, earlier playful twitterings are thrown out the door as you sit down on his bed. "If you still want to, that is."

   "God, you're going to be the death of me." With a groan, he's back up and by your side, his hand fisting over his half hard cock to get it to spring back to life as he peppers kisses over your face and pushes you into his feather-down pillows. "I can't wait to feel you, I can't wait to make you mine."

   "I'm pretty sure that emotionally I've been yours since the moment you went with me to feed the koi fish."

   "Remind me to send them a thank you present in that case." You prop yourself up on your elbows as he rips back the foil and slowly rolls the rubber over his length. You feel enough delight to border on delirium over the fact that you're finally going to feel him. Finally, after all this time of late night frustrations caused by even the smallest of contact with him, you're going to be able to feel him. The sensation of him coating himself in your arousals as he lines up has your nerves dancing with anticipation. He enters at an agonizingly slow pace, the stretch has you gripping onto the sheets and toes curling as his name leaves you in slow whines.

   "Please move, I can't take it. I need to feel you. Deeper." Lust has fogged over your brain and your words come out wobbly, slower, lower than normal. His hips push deeper, faster until his pace is almost brutal. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, loud wet squelches, and groans of satisfaction fill the room. His lips find yours again, his teeth nipping playfully as one hand sneaks down to rub circles on your clit.

   "I wanna make you cum, I want to see you all fucked out on my cock. Does this feel good?" The lower timber of his voice mixed with the clitoral stimulation has you spasming around him.

   "Fuck, yeah. Yeah just-fuck-just like that. Fuck! Don't stop, please don't stop I-I" His hips piston deeper, further into you as he presses kisses onto your neck.

   "Let go, baby, just let go." Your climax hits you quickly, stars spotting your vision as your legs hook around his waist. It feels like you're floating, it's transcendental. As if sex has brought you to a higher realm, a place where everything is perfect and right as you cry out in pleasure. He fucks you through it, new waves of satisfaction rolling in with each movement. You're slightly delirious as you come back to reality, a smile gracing your face as you hear words of praise roll off his tongue.

   "I could watch you cum all day. Fuck, you're so tight now. I'm not going to last much longer. Hold on, turn around." He helps you reposition until your ass is up in the air and your face is pressed snuggly into the pillows. His hands guide your hips in place as he quickly bottoms out, his pace picking up until you're a mewling mess.

   "Joon, fuck, please cum. I wanna feel you cum." The groans of satisfaction in response to your words has you spasming again, toes curling as his hands grip the flesh of your ass. You can feel his movements become sloppier, the rhythm falling out of sync as he pushes himself further to the edge that's teetering just out of reach. You snake your hand down to gently cup his balls and he gives a guttural moan in response. It only takes four more thrusts before he's spilling into the condom, lodged deep inside of your wet heat still as he slumps forward.

   "Holy shit." He catches his breath before he rolls over, carefully tieing off the condom and tossing it into a waste bin before he pulls you into his arms. "That was-"

   "Amazing? Mind-blowing? The best sex of your life?"

   "Yeah."

   "Good. It was for me too. I'll probably owe Jin for life now though for refusing to come. He kept saying that I needed to get laid." Namjoon laughs as he presses a kiss to your temple.

   "You know that's actually the same thing that Yoongi and his fiance said? I'm glad that they were right though. They kept telling me to just tell you that I liked you but for some reason, I was so nervous. You're just so sweet, and funny, and caring and perfect and I was convinced that you would think I had too much baggage to want to try with me."

   "You? Baggage? Please, I'm the one with the mommy and daddy issues, I think I trump you on the baggage claim. Besides, you're this witty, charming, intelligent, and painfully handsome man. How could I not fall for you?"

   That night the two of you fall asleep in between stolen kisses, cuddling, and conversations of love and life and what the future might have in store. As it turns out the future held pretty good things if you do say so yourself. Somehow the two of you helped each other heal, encouraged each other to grow and expand as people. It isn't always easy, but the two of you develop further into love when things get harder. And so somehow you managed not only to find love but after five years the government knows you're in love too. Three years after the wedding bells and you adopt your first child. Another two years later and you welcome in your second child and you finally realize that your biggest dream was coming true. You finally got the family you always wanted. And Jin was sure to remind you often that really it was all thanks to him. You can't say he's entirely wrong though, after all, he did help give you the chance to sweep Namjoon off his feet.

[loloskids]

⚑  Deacon Joshua Barnes  ⚑

37 Years Old, male, Construction Manager, heterosexual, divorced, foster dad/uncle

poor Deacon’s life can be used as an example of the best laid plans seldom go the way you planned it...

he was an accident kid, born to a mom who had him earlier than expected with her boyfriend at the time. his dad stuck around for the first couple of years, but got freaked out when Deacon started being less baby and more actual human he had to be a good role model to. he dipped when Deacon was five years old.

Deacon’s mom, Ellie, did her best to try and be both parents towards him but he was unfortunately blessed with a great memory and would always remember the father who had left. he did love his mother with all his heart, even when she mistakenly blamed herself for henry barnes’s inability to be a good dad, and never pushed for much more in her life. although she eventually managed to score a position at a very fancy restaurant, she remained the head hostess for nearly all of Deacon’s life

getting into a lot of fights as a kid, Deacon truly found a home in shop class, and with his teacher at the time who saw the scuffed up blonde boy and thought there was potential there

Mr. Sanchez changed Deacon’s life for the better, and through a twisted turn of events ended up becoming his stepfather a few years after Deacon had gone on to college

although he got his bachelors in business management, working with his hands and sweat down his back was the kind of work Deacon longed for, and was a profitable way to try and put a dent in his student loans

he’s been working at the same construction company for about fifteen years now, and has risen as high as he can go in the company. he truly loves it there, and considers the people he works with his family

Rosalie was the girlfriend of one of the floater construction workers around town, who saw Deacon and his drive to push himself further and saw what he could become - and how she could take advantage of it. she was a beautiful woman and pursued Deacon after dumping her old beau with a tenacity he couldn’t help but fall in love with

she stopped working right after the wedding, and in an effort to keep her to the life she wanted Deacon started working longer and harder

color him devastated when he found out, three years after they’d tied the knot, that he was stepping out on him. Rosalie convinced him that it was a one time thing, but when he found out about ANOTHER man a few months later, he asked for a divorce. she refused.

the battle lasted over a year in court and left Deacon utterly exhausted, but he’d got to keep the things that mattered the most to him, their dog, their house, and most of his assets. four years after the catastrophe went down, he still finds it hard to trust the women he’s involved with

last year, Deacon discovered that he had a half brother (on his dad’s side) who was in and out jail, truly lost. when he reached out and tried to help him, he discovered to his horror that he had a five year old daughter who’s home life was anything but stable. after some court petitioning, he’s been allowed to foster the little girl, his niece, Pia, ever since

TIDBITS

born and raised in Klover, Colorado, he’s never wanted to leave home and never will. the wide open spaces and clear air suit him just fine

his favorite color is brown, and yes he will death glare you if you say something bad about it

his blood might actually be made of coffee instead of red blood cells, he’s been drinking the stuff so much of his life

he has a chocolate lab named Imogen that he fought his ex-wife tooth and nail over during the divorce. Imogen had only been with them for a couple of months when the marriage fell apart, but had already bonded with him more. Rosalie wanted to take her more to make Deacon feel shitty than for any other reason, but thankfully the judge ruled in Deacon’s favor

he loves country music. he can’t help himself. he’s got the big ass truck to prove it.

his drink of choice is a rum and coke.

[kagami190]

“Death & Rebirth” Chapter 2: Rebirth

Chapter 2: Rebirth

-1-

Immediately after getting out of bed, Kagami had invited her high school classmate Misao Kusakabe out to the shopping district and rushed out of the house. Kagami felt guilty leaving her twin sister in the dust so early in the day, but she was in dire need of a confidant who wasn't a family member.

Misao was certainly a loyal friend and made for good company - especially in as much as she probably wouldn't notice how mentally preoccupied Kagami was.

"I mean, ya think about it, it doesn't make any sense!" Misao said, her cute little snaggletooth showing amidst every word out of her mouth.

Kagami didn't know what Misao was talking about, she didn't necessarily care either. She just nodded. Misao was wearing a new shirt and a skirt Kagami had never seen before - which wasn't surprising considering she was just getting used to not seeing her friends in their uniformed colors every day.

She wasn't depressed, just lost in thought. She didn't want to be alone, she didn't know what she would do. She needed to be around someone so she didn't do anything crazy. Which is why she made the decision to call Misao as soon as she had woken up. She didn't want this to get around to her more immediate group of friends. Most especially her sister and loud-mouthed Konata.

Misao on the other hand, it was all the same to her. Kagami assumed she would talk to a wall if another person wasn't around.

She couldn't keep this up forever though. She'd have to face the music at some point.

As beautiful people walked by - regardless of whether they were male or female - Kagami would sexualize them. Sometimes feeling her nipples harden at the excitement of a beautiful woman or the natural smell of a handsome man jogging past. She didn't know how people could do it. How can they walk around like this and pay attention to anything else?

Kagami blushed, lost in her naughty thoughts, and felt a tingling, her panties moistened a little. 

"... Right?!" Misao's voice came back into focus, "What do you think, Hiiragi?"

Kagami snapped back into reality.

"Uhh.." Kagami said, "Sure."

"Heyyyy!" Misao observed immediately, switching tracks without a beat and pointing at Kagami "You're all red-faced!"

She blushed brighter red.

"What's the big deal?" Misao was confused. "You sick or somethin' Hiiragi?" "I haven't really felt like myself lately, no," Kagami admitted. Misao took a second to process this, "Soooo... Does that mean your sick?"

Kagami laughed a little, the first small feeling of happiness since last night, "No Misao, I'm not sick."

"Ya sure?" Misao confirmed.

"I'm sure," Kagami said.

"Then is it a boy?" Misao asked.

The blood rushed to Kagami's face again. She wore her emotions right on her sleeve. She'd always known this.

"So is that what all the red faceyness was about?" Misao said, grinning, "Saw something you liked, Hiiragi?"

"No! I mean..." Kagami started.

"I saw some hotties walkin' down these streets." Misao said, "Don't think I didn't catch you turning your head"

Kagami gasped, "You saw that?"

Misao giggled, "Nah, I was yappin' too much to notice stuff like that. You definitely threw yourself under the bus on that one."

Kagami sighed, annoyed, "Thanks for that."

"There's the Hiiragi I know!" Misao said, "Now come on, what boy do you have on your mind? Did he go to school with us? It wasn't 'Sebastian' was it?"

"It's..." Kagami paused, "Complicated."

Misao frowned a little, "Aw, come on Hiiragi. I mean, I know we didn't hang out much outside of school, but I'm tryin' to be a good friend here."

"You're right," Kagami grinned, "Sorry."

Misao looked to their right as they passed by a Taiwanese restaurant, a quaint establishment that had two giant posters in its window. One said, "DAILY SPECIALS!" the other, "BOBA TEA!"

"I know!" She said, stopping right in front of it.

"Huh?" Kagami said, realizing Misao was no longer walking beside her.

"Boba Tea!" Misao said, "Awesome stuff!"

Kagami backtracked a few steps to catch up with Misao "Oh. The Taiwanese bubble tea with the huge tapioca balls at the bottom."

"Um, yeah! The best drink to have deep conversations over!" Misao smiled as she grabbed Kagami by the hand, dragging her into the restaurant.

Kagami slightly resisted but allowed Misao to pull her in. "Aren't you thinking about coffee? Besides, the convo I want to have is a little personal..."

"Nah, coffee sucks," Misao said, walking up to the front counter, "Boba tea is where it's at!"

"Hello! Welcome!" They heard, the clerk calling to them as they walked up to the counter.

"Hi, nice to meet ya!" Misao said, "Just two for the bar please, we're just gonna get some boba tea."

The man nodded, "Boba tea is the reason this place stays open." He smiled and gestured for the girls to come toward him. "Boba tea is a relatively young, but very profitable Taiwanese tradition."

"Young?" Kagami asked as she and Misao followed behind him.

"It's a staple of Taiwanese culture and it hasn't even been around 40 years!" The man said, leading Kagami and Misao to the bar, pulling the tall chairs out for them.

Misao sat down, "Hehe... This is kinda cool. Feel like a big girl sitting on this stool chair." "What kind of boba tea would you girls like?" The man smiled.

"I'll have coconut with passion fruit boba!" Misao said proudly.

"Of course." The man said, "And for you?"

"Um..." Kagami started, "I'll have what she's having."

"Very good." The man said, scurrying away.

"That guy sure was happy about the significance of boba tea," Kagami said.

"Like my Dad says the only way to stay afloat is to love what life deals you." Misao said, "This guy's really invested in his job, but maybe that's because it's all he has."

"Sounds like settling to me," Kagami said dryly, "They pay him so he probably just fakes it."

Misao shook her head, "Always the depressing logic from you, Hiiragi."

Kagami sighed, putting her head on the bar, "I'm just so confused," She whined out loud.

"Oh, that's right!" Misao said, "I got so excited about the boba that I forgot what we were coming in here for. Your boy troubles! Okay, tell me all about it!"

"It's..." Kagami said, "It's not a boy." "Oh?" "It's..." Kagami thought for a second, "It's like..." "Take your time Hiiragi, don't bust a blood vessel. " "I'm just trying to think of how to word it!" Kagami snapped. "Okay, okay!" Misao laughed, "So it's like?" "Well... have you ever been through a life-changing experience?" Kagami asked. "What?" Misao replied, " Like someone dying?"

"Not really..." Kagami said, taking a second to remember how last night felt like the death of her innocence. Who knew death could feel so good.

"Becoming a millionaire?" Misao guessed again, "If you're a millionaire, you should loan me some money."

"No, not a millionaire," Kagami rolled her eyes, "Like... you ever heard of people who find religion? People, who say they're saved?"

"Like those reborn again people?" Misao said, "You a holy roller now? I always knew your family was religious but you never seemed all that bought-in."

"Not that," Kagami said, "But something just as earth-shattering changed who I thought I was..."

Misao, usually full of smiles and always talking fell silent, and in her bright brown eyes you could see immediate worry for her friend.

"Hey, Kagami..." Misao started Kagami felt a slight startle at Misao calling her by her given name. "You know I'm here for ya," Misao said, "Whatever it is, I want to help okay?"

There was a small silence as Kagami decided whether or not to fully confide in Misao. Could she keep such a weird secret? Were they close enough so that she wouldn't be totally creeped out and run away?

Before she could think about it more, the man from earlier returned, with as much gusto as ever, cups and big straws in hand. He sat down their boba teas in front of them.

"Two coconut and passion fruit for the pretty young ladies!" He announced cheerfully, "Enjoy! If you want to order anything the menu is right in front of you."

"Thanks." The girls said, and he walked away leaving them once again to their own devices.

"His happiness definitely seems genuine," Misao said after he had left, "I don't think he's faking or settling."

After a small beat, Kagami finally spoke. "Misao, have you ever had a boyfriend?" Kagami asked.

Misao wasn't expecting that and this time it was her face that flushed a little bit, "Well... I mean... Not, like, anything official or nothin' like that."

"Neither have I." Kagami said, "I think I need one in my life. I'm craving something more lately..."

Misao thought she knew where this was going, "Love?"

Kagami took a deep breath as her heart raced. It was now or never, "Sex."

Misao's big amber-brown eyes widened, her pupils shrinking as the light hit them. "Umm..."

"Please," Kagami immediately said, "Don't hate me or think I'm weird. I swear I just wanted to tell someone and I thought..."

"Hiiragi, it's okay," Misao said recoiling, "Calm down, I don't hate you. And it's not weird that a teenage girl is interested in sex."

"Is it weird that I got off to a hentai anime?" Kagami immediately followed up.

Misao, obviously taken aback again by how much Kagami had to get off her chest, after a few moments said, "Well... I've definitely heard weirder."

That didn't really make Kagami feel much better, but at least Misao wasn't running away.

"I gotta tell you Hiiragi," Misao grinned suggestively, "You're the last person in the world I expected to be a nymphomaniac."

"I'm not a nympho!" She said defensively, "I just have this new feeling and I'm confused." "Confused about?" Kagami blushed, "Wanting...to feel pleasure... I guess." "So you ARE a nympho!" Misao laughed.

"I am NOT!" Kagami shot back. "I'm..." "So you're not sex-starved," Misao said.

"I mean, it's hard to explain," Kagami started, "Konata lent Tsukasa an anime DVD. She didn't have time to watch it, so I asked if I could. She mistakingly lent her a hentai DVD."

"Mistakingly?" Misao asked, "Wouldn't put it past that girl to do it on purpose as some kinda pervy joke."

Kagami hadn't thought about that. She was surprised she hadn't.

"So you watched it and liked it huh?" Misao said.

"More than liked it," Kagami said, "I got... I got really warm and... I mean, so, I like..."

"Did ya diddle yourself, Hiiragi?" Misao said smiling.

"Ya know," Kagami said, annoyance bubbling, "For this being a moment where I spill my darkest secret you're not being very sensitive.

"Darkest secret?" Misao said, more amused, "Hiiragi if all you did was touch yourself..."

Kagami looked around worriedly, "Not so loud! This isn't really the most appropriate place for this conversation."

"I'm no sex researcher scientist person," Misao said, "But I'd say that it's very likely that most every person masturbates at least once."

"Have you..." Kagami's voice lowered to a whisper, "Ya know... Did what I did? To yourself?" "Uhh..." Misao stammered, "Well..."

"We're being honest with each other, right?" Kagami said, "Only the two of us have to know anything about this conversation."

"Yeah," Misao looked at the ground as her skin flushed, then looked back to Kagami, finding it hard to keep eye contact, "I have."

Kagami turned in her barstool to face Misao, "Oh, my God really?" Kagami grabbed her hand, "I'm not the only one?"

Misao raised an eyebrow and eased her hand free, "I told ya. Everyone does it at one point."

"What made you do it?" Kagami asked.

"Woah, Hiiragi..." Misao scratched the back of her head, "I knew we were gonna come in here for girl talk but didn't know it was really gonna be, like, girl talk. On second thought this might not be the best place to talk about stuff like that."

Kagami threw her an evil glare, "That's what I heavily alluded to before you decided to sit down in a public place for a drink, Misao."

"Well!" Misao defended, "That was before you wanted to go into detail about how we diddle ourselves."

"Would you stop calling it that?" Kagami pleaded tiredly.

"Okay, how we touch ourselves." Misao corrected

Kagami blushed a slight pink again, "Right. That." She said, looking at the ground embarrassingly.

"Okay, let's drink our boba tea!" Misao said cheerfully, "There's plenty of time for that other stuff later!"

"Right," Kagami said, smiling and feeling much more at ease, "We'll save that subject for later."

Kagami looked down at the drink in front of her, which she had yet to touch. It didn't look very much like any tea she'd ever drunk. It was cold first of all - and it had an off-white color to the liquid. At the bottom were things that looked like bubbles - the signature look of boba tea. The bubbles at the bottom of her cup were orange. Besides that, it was served in a plastic cup with a circular plastic seal covering the top of the cup. Accompanied by the sealed cup was a big, silly- looking straw still in its wrapper.

"How do I drink this thing?" Kagami asked, surveying how excessively big the straw was.

"Oh," Misao said, "Stab the straw through its wrapper to open it, then break the seal with the straw. Thrust the straw in the center of the plastic film on the cup."

Kagami did so. "Now you can drink the tea and suck the balls!" Misao said happily. "Uh..." Kagami said, "Suck the..."

There was a small beat of silence as the girls looked over at each other, noticing the presence of the double entendres. Then silently realizing that it was they who made the connection, making it clear they both were concentrating on the concept of sex.

They stared blankly at their boba teas and straws, taking a second to focus on the giant tapioca balls.

"I'm not really feelin' the boba tea," Kagami said. "Me neither." Misao said, "Still, those are pretty huge balls huh?"

Kagami turned to wave someone down, "Check, please."

-2-

On the way into Misao's home, Kagami had taken a quick glance at the front room of the house. It was pretty cluttered, at least for a Japanese home. It definitely fit Misao's personality. It was very quiet too. She wondered where the rest of Misao's family was.

"Make yourself at home, Hiiragi." Misao said, "Want anything?" "Do you have tea?" Kagami asked, "Not that Boba nonsense. Normal tea?" Misao smiled, "Sure. I was thinking the same thing. One sec."

Misao left the room for a few moments, leaving Kagami by herself in the room. Kagami was glad too, she's needed a few minutes of alone time. Telling someone your deepest darkest secret the day after it had happened was emotionally tiring and she wanted some silent time to recover. Silent time didn't happen with Misao.

She smiled slightly. Misao had definitely come through for her in a very vulnerable period and she knew that Misao would keep her secret. Even if her counseling was a little quirky, she could tell every word was filled with warmth and conviction. She was constantly making Kagami laugh, making up for the dark self-loathing place she had been it for the last day.

She was always laughing too, such a cutie. She was very cute.

Through the day, Kagami definitely felt kinship growing for Misao, sure that they would be closer than they had ever been considering Misao's open-mind and support. She had noticed that Misao looked even cuter when she smiled. That little sharp tooth of hers peaking out of her mouth was oddly endearing today. It gave her the cute and silly character that Kagami knew she could count on. It was clear she had always taken their friendship for granted. But she wouldn't any longer.

Misao returned with two cups of tea on a tray, setting them down on the small table in the center of her room.

"Two cups of normal tea, a la mode!" Misao said cheerfully. "Uh," Kagami said, "You do know that "a la mode" means "served with ice cream" right?"

"Oh," Misao said, sitting on the ground, "Sorry. It sounded cool though right?" She grinned a little embarrassed.

Kagami giggled and shook her head and took a seat next to Misao, "Misao, you're definitely one of a kind."

"Aw, thanks Hiiragi." Misao said, "You too." "I really appreciate you taking me under your wing today," Kagami said, "I was a big mess."

"Nah, don't mention it. And you weren't a big mess, we already established that. Just some tingling in the nether regions that's all."

"Put so eloquently." Kagami said sarcastically, but then noticed how quiet it was, "Hey, where is your family? I noticed it was all dark and cluttered when I came in."

"All off doing something for the summer," Misao said, "Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa went on some sort of lazy boat cruise. Big brother is off traveling with his band of college bro-types."

"And you're alone?" Kagami asked.

"Yeah, just for a couple weeks. I guess they figure I'm graduated now so I'm old enough to fend for myself." Misao said, "But I'm kinda messy so I should probably clean up before they get back. Grandma likes to keep the place all shiny - always on my case about it."

"I'd imagine so." Kagami said nodding, "Well hey, in return for helping me today how about I help you clean up the place before they get back?"

"That'd be cool!" Misao said, "We can make a day of it! Hang out and stuff."

"Sounds like a plan," Kagami smiled. She picked up her tea and took a sip, "Ah, that hits the spot."

"Oh! Speaking of hitting the spot, we still have the stuff to talk about!" Misao declared, "Safe from the judging ears of a public restaurant."

"Right." Kagami's cheeks took on light pink.

"It was the cheerleader squad." Misao casually blurted, sipping her own tea noisily.

"What was?"

"What inspired me to do it." Misao said, "What made me diddle - I mean, you know, touch myself. I saw them practicing after school and I guess the mental image really stuck with me."

"The... Cheerleading squad?"

"I figured if we were being honest with each other," Misao said, "I would tell you something personal. I've never really been that attracted to boys."

"Are you..." Kagami said carefully, "Coming out to me?"

Misao shrugged, "Not particularly. I mean, I think boys are kinda sorta cute, but girls are so much prettier, softer. Not as sweaty ya know? It's just not something I advertise, not like I've actually been with either one."

"And so you saw the cheerleader squad and... Uh, did the thing where you touched yourself." Kagami said.

"Yeah, Hiiragi," Misao rolled her eyes, "I masturbated at home while thinking if the cute little cheerleaders."

"Okay, wow... super embarrassing, but, um... right." Kagami flushed, "Masturbated." "I felt pretty creepy about it. Like a pervy old man." Misao said. "I've been feeling the same way all day," Kagami sighed. "Ya know what I think your solution is, Hiiragi?" Misao asked.

"What's that?" "I think you need to stop hating yourself for what you feel." Misao said, "It's not like you're doing

anything wrong." "It feels incredibly wrong," Kagami frowned.

"That's natural, in most walks of life people are taught to be ashamed of desires," Misao said, her voice now sounding intellectual, channeling her inner college student, "I mean, think about it: have you touched anyone that didn't want to be touched?"

"No..."

"Are you getting off to something that would hurt people or something illegal?"

"No..."

"So it just sounds like you're a normal person discovering herself," Misao smiled, "Like I said, love your life for what it is. It felt good didn't it?"

Kagami blushed more, "Yeah... It did."

Misao shrugged, "Who's to say you shouldn't keep on doing it? Better than sleeping with strangers to quell your appetite."

Kagami finally saw a light at the end of this tunnel. Misao was right. She was feeling excessive pangs of guilt that was a staple of any culture for females - girls who want sex should be ashamed why? Men don't get flack for masturbating... so why should she?

"There's no reason to beat yourself up about it Hiiragi," Misao said warmly, "Here's one girl who'll never judge you. You can trust me with this stuff."

Kagami smiled warmly and scooted herself a little closer to Misao, resting her head on her shoulder, "Life after high school sure is crazy..."

Misao's cheeks started to take on a light shade of pink too, "Yep! Pretty crazy..." She said, laughing and trying to hide her sudden nervousness.

When laughing, Misao exposed her little fang again, causing Kagami to stifle a giggle. "What?" Misao said, "Got something on my face?" "Your tooth." Kagami said, "The little sharp one." "Good Ol' pointy." Misao said, "Always been there."

"I know," Kagami said, "I've always liked it." Misao cocked an eyebrow, "My tooth?" "It fits with your character." Kagami said, "I've always thought it was really cute." "Yeah?" Misao said, a little flattered, "I always thought it made me look weird." Kagami lifted her head from her shoulder to meet Misao face-to-face. "Nope. Total cutie pie."

The girls stared at each other, nose to nose for a couple of seconds. Kagami took on a finger and pressed it underneath Misao's tooth, "It's not that sharp."

"Well," Misao said awkwardly, "Hopefully I don't have to rip apart an animal carcass with my teeth anytime soon."

Kagami, using the hand that was nearest to Misao's face, brushed her brown hair behind her ear, "Too cute." Kagami said, letting her hand linger on her cheek after tucking back Misao's hair.

"Hiiragi..." Misao started, looking up into her eyes.

Kagami's blue eyes locked with Misao's hazel eyes and their faces instinctively drifted towards each other, their eyes closing and lips meeting for a soft, sensual little kiss.

The two girls let their foreheads rest against one another after the kiss. Misao's heart was beating so fast Kagami could hear it.

"You're hearts going pretty fast there," Kagami said playfully.

"What are we doin' Hiiragi?" Misao asked softly, her voice frail.

"Nothing we should be ashamed of, right?" Kagami said, "And no one is here."

"Conveniently." Misao said, "Funny how that always works out, isn't it? Almost like we're in a story."

"Yeah, it really is," Kagami admitted.

There was a beat of silence, which was filled by the beat of Misao's thumping heart.

"Still," Kagami said, "Don't you want to? I mean... go just a bit further?"

"I..." Misao started but was cut off.

"Haven't you even thinking about it all day?" Kagami asked, "Don't you think I'm cute?"

Misao opened her eyes to look at Kagami.

"Always have," Misao said, as Kagami opened her eyes to meet her gaze once again.

Immediately, Misao's eyes darted to the side in embarrassment.

Kagami put a hand on Misao's cheek and caressed it, pulling her face close for a long, passionate kiss - Misao let out a small moan in Kagami's mouth.

"I knew you wanted to." Kagami smiled warmly and kissed Misao quickly again.

"This is a completely different side of you, Hiiragi," Misao said.

"Yeah," Kagami said, "It's different."

"I like it a lot though," Misao said, leaning in for another kiss - this time slowly working her tongue into Kagami's mouth.

Kagami took a cue from this and let her tongue into Misao's mouth continuing to caress her face. The two girls softly swirled their tongues in each other's mouths both letting out small high-pitched sighs every so often as they kissed.

Kagami took her hand and slid it to Misao's back, lifting up her tee-shirt and immediately going for

her bra. "Woah!" Misao exclaimed, "You really don't waste time."

"Take these off." Kagami said softly, still playfully fingering the back of her bra, "I want to see your cute naked body."

Misao blushed, "Well, my boobs are a little small so... I mean, don't expect much."

Kagami rolled her eyes, "Please. You're talking to another girl with a petite body. Take off your bra and your shirt."

"If you say so..." Misao lifted up her shirt over her head, her small breasts encased in her plain white bra.

"Your tits," Kagami said, "So cute..." "Tits." Misao said, giggling "You're a dirty talker too." "Apparently," Kagami said, slipping off one of Misao's bra straps. Misao looked down, feigning surprised, "Hiiragi..."

Kagami reached into Misao's bra and pulled out one of her small breasts and massaged it. It fit perfectly in Kagami's hand and she could feel her nipples, which were small and beautifully natural, harden.

Kagami took one finger and pressed her hard nipple in lightly, it softened but Misao let out a loud pleasurable moan.

"Ah!" Misao sighed quietly, "That feels really good..."

After massaging her breast again for a few more seconds Kagami stopped to get a full view of Misao's budding chest, still holding her hand over the one she was massaging. Kagami looked up at her, "Can I lick it?"

"Sure." Misao's face flushed again.

Kagami took Misao's small breast in her hand again and stared at her puffy little nipple.

"Here I go," Kagami said, and slowly licked Misao's nipple before putting it in her mouth slowly.

"Oh, man!" Misao moaned as she held Kagami's head and pushed it against her chest, "Don't stop, don't stop!"

"You have such beautiful little tits, Misao..." Kagami said, continuing to lick her hardened yet still soft teenage nipples. "I love licking them."

Misao moaned again, "No Hiiragi that's embarrassing!" "What, that you have a sexy little body?" Kagami said, grinning, "it's meant to be a compliment." Misao looked Kagami up and down and her body became warm. "I want I see your body, Hiiragi." Misao said, looking into her eyes, "Kagami-chan."

"Kagami-chan, huh?" Kagami said, "So we're that close now?"

"I think once you're about to get to second base with someone, it's okay to be casual," Misao said.

"Fair enough." Kagami said, giggling, "Misa-chan."

Kagami lifted her shirt, revealing her slightly smaller breasts with her pink bra covering them.

"You've got some cute tits too, Hiiragi," Misao said, "I want to do what you did to me. I wanna lick and suck yours too."

Kagami smiled, "Why don't we go to your bed?"

Kagami got up and walked over to Misao's bed, sitting down, pulling one bra strap off of her shoulder innocently.

"Wow, Hiiragi are you trying to seduce me?" Misao asked. "Not trying." Kagami said matter-of-factly, "Just did." "You think you're smooth, Hiiragi?" Misao said, making her way to the bed to sit next to Kagami. "What happened to Kagami-chan?" Kagami asked. " I'll call ya whatever I want," Misao said bravely. "Haha, that's awful defiant," Kagami said teasingly. "Shut up and get naked, Hiiragi," Misao said turning to face Kagami

Kagami did the same, turning to face Misao as well. They locked lips passionately. Misao took one hand and messaged one of Kagami's breasts, still encased in the pink bra. Kagami began to lean back and Misao took this chance to slightly but somewhat aggressively push her down to lay on the bed.

Misao laid on top of Kagami, kissing upwards from her stomach to her small tits. She kissed around Kagami's cleavage and slightly kissed the outside part of her breast. "Take it off," Misao whispered.

Kagami reached behind herself and unhooked her bra, sliding down her other strap and letting it fall in front of her as she bore her naked chest.

Misao followed suit, unhooking her bra and completely revealing both of her small natural breasts. Misao immediately leaned forward and kissed Kagami's pink nipple.

"Ah..." Kagami sighed.

Misao took her tongue and licked Kagami's nipple using her entire tongue - almost like she was licking an ice cream cone. She continued to lick Kagami's nipples lapping faster and faster.

"Oh God Misao..." Kagami held Misao's head to her chest just as she had done her, "More... More, it feels so good."

Misao took her tongue and gave it a little pressure - using it to push the top of Kagami's nipple inward.

"Haaaaaaaah..." Kagami moaned as relaxing pleasure shot through her upper body, she pushed Misao's head firmer into her chest, feeling the moisture in her panties as Misao continuously licked her breasts softly.

Misao stopped and looked up at Kagami, who was continuing to moan while catching her breath at the same time even after Misao had stopped licking. She was still audible as she sat up to survey the familiar damp spot under her. Even with her panties on.

"Sorry," Kagami said, "That's really embarrassing."

"Don't worry 'bout it," Misao said, ignoring the comment altogether and wrapping her arms around Kagami. She pressed herself against Kagami's body as she gave her another long kiss.

The girls intertwined their tongues once again and Kagami pulled herself closer to Misao and deeper into the kiss. They both felt a light, tingly pleasure as their nipples and breasts pressed against each other.

Misao looked at the wet spot on the bed again, "You're like a river there, Hiiragi." Misao laughed. "Don't laugh," Kagami flushed, "It's so embarrassing." "Just means I'm doin' a good job, that's all!" Misao said proudly. "I want to do good for you too," Kagami said.

"What'd ya have in mind?" Misao asked suggestively.

Kagami put her hand on Misao's bare chest and slid it in between her breasts, softly down her stomach and in between her legs inching up her skirt and softly rubbing against her cotton panties.

Misao sighed surprisingly and let out a light moan, "Kagami..." She said, "I've never... No one's ever, like..."

"Don't forget it's my first time too," Kagami said, "I've done it to myself... I just want to see if it all works the same. And if it makes you feel good, all the better."

"It felt so intense..." Misao said, "And you were just touching on the outside." "Can I keep going?" Kagami asked, inching closer.

A few moments later, Kagami was looking at Misao's cute panties as she slipped off her skirt. Cotton white with a tiny pink bow at the top. There was a long wet spot right in the middle as her juices automatically flowed out Kagami took two fingers and rubbed them against the wet spot.

"Oh my God..." Misao moaned, "Aaaahhhh!" Kagami took her hand rubbing against Misao and worked her way slowly to remove her panties. Misao grabbed Kagami's hand to stop her, "I'm gonna pee! "It just feels that way at first." Kagami soothed her, "Just relax." "You promise?" Misao said, her voice shaking. Kagami put one hand on Misao's face and caressed her cheek, "Misao, it's okay. I promise."

Misao's body relaxed as she accepted that the sensation was an intense pleasure. She decided she was better off basking in it, no matter what the outcome.

Kagami once again lifted the small elastic of Misao's panties and began to slip them off.

"Hiiragi, please... Please be gentle, I'm so scared." Misao said, her voice more helpless and frail than Kagami had ever heard before.

"Tell me if you don't want to," Kagami said worriedly, "I don't want you to feel like you have to because you're in the moment. I might be newly curious but I'm not a rapist."

"I do want to," Misao blurted, "I feel safe with you. But at least give me this, it doesn't matter who your first sexcapade is with... it's still nerve-racking."

"You got a point there," Kagami said, taking her hand and inching under Misao's skirt, stopping just short of her bare pussy.

Misao gasped, her eyes widening. Her mouth was left agape as she processed what was about to happen.

"Should I keep going?" Kagami asked. "Yes, Hiiragi." Misao said, "Touch me down there... Please."

Kagami took her hand and rubbed it slightly against Misao's wet vagina. While rubbing she could already feel Misao's clitoris protruding. It was bigger than hers. Misao let out a high-pitched moan as Kagami's fingers brushed over her clit.

"You thought I was a river?" Kagami smirked. "Shut up!" Misao said, flushing, "Jerk."

Kagami leaned forward for another small kiss as she continued to rub Misao's clitoris. Misao let out another moan into Kagami's mouth.

Kagami leaned back from the kiss and began to kiss down Misao's neck, down her shoulder blades to her petite breasts, and took her left nipple into her mouth, suckling a bit. Misao messaged her own right breast as she did so, intensifying the pleasure in her upper body, she felt more of her juices flow out, almost like a geyser in slow motion.

Kagami continued to kiss and lick down Misao's flat stomach, stopping as she got to her skirt. Misao took the cue and slipped off the skirt, revealing her small shaved vagina. Kagami kissed around it gently.

"You okay?" Kagami said. "Sure." Misao's voice shook slightly. "I'm going to lick you." Kagami said, "Okay?" "Please," Misao said, "It feels so good... I... I don't know where to put all of this pleasure." "Relax," Kagami soothed and slowly took her tongue and lapped it across Misao's clit. "Oh my..." Misao shrieked, "Fuck! Oh my God, Hiiragi lick me more, please lick me more!" Kagami licked up and down Misao's pussy, flicking her clitoris with her tongue. Misao convulsed

and gasped for air as she moaned.

Kagami took one finger and rubbed Misao's clit softly in a circular motion. Misao's body shook as she gyrated slightly, rubbing her juices on the sheets of her bed.

The bed was soaking wet.

Kagami licked up and down Misao's pussy slit for a minute before stopping and speaking softly, "Misao..."

"Kagami it feels so good, don't stop, please don't stop I'll go crazy!" Misao screamed. "I want to try something." Kagami said, "With my finger."

"Whatever you want," Misao said, catching her breath, "Just keep licking my pussy while you do it."

"You sure?" Kagami said. "Oh my God, whatever Hiiragi!" Misao said frustrated, "Fingers, whatever, just keep going!" Misao pushed Kagami's head back in between her legs.

Kagami slowly brought out her tongue again, picking up where she had left off. She started from the bottom of Misao's vagina and licked upwards, finally flicking her clit softly with her tongue over and over when she got to the top. Misao thrust her pelvis once more, sinking Kagami's face into her wet pussy.

Kagami pulled back and took her hand, playfully rubbing up and down Misao's wetness. She rubbed her clit softly before finally making her way down and feeling for a small opening she knew would be there. Rubbing her finger up and down Misao's pussy, she finally found it and lightly pushed her finger in.

"Haaaaaaaaaah!" Misao moaned, feeling a different type of pleasure than when Kagami rubbed her clitoris. Not as intense but somehow more... fulfilling. But it stretched her a little and she worried it might hurt.

"Be gentle, ok?" Misao said, "I think it'll hurt..."

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you." Kagami said.

"No, I know it'll feel good and I want it," Misao explained, "But it will probably hurt too."

Kagami kissed Misao and this time took her finger and slowly slipped it into Misao's tight pussy, which immediately clamped down upon Kagami's finger.

"Ooooooh my...ahhhh!" Misao moaned, screaming at the same time, "Holy hell!"

Kagami pulled out her finger and reinserted it - a little faster this time. Misao whimpered as Kagami's finger was thrust in and out of her tight entrance.

Kagami continued, now inserting her finger and twirling it around lightly.

Misao quietly moaned in the background, her voice intermittently getting stuck in her throat as pleasure spread from Kagami's gentle fingering throughout her entire body Kagami could feel the texture of Misao's wet vaginal walls go from smooth and slippery to a little

more ruffled - a little stiffer. Misao's moans grew more audible as she felt the texture of the walls harden more and more as she messaged them with her finger - moving her finger in a slight "come here" motion as she messaged the roof of Misao's tight pink walls.

"Does it hurt?" Kagami asked, continuing to finger Misao.

Misao caught her breath to answer, letting out a light moan before she had a chance to speak, "A little, but I definitely want more. I never want this feeling to go away Hiiragi." Kagami kept on, staring at Misao's smooth pussy, "I won't stop this time."

Kagami lowered her head as she continued to lightly finger Misao's tight entrance - now simultaneously using her finger to massage her ripple-textured walls and her tongue to lick her clitoris.

"Hiiragi, it's inside me!" Misao moaned, "Your finger is inside and it feels so good!"

Kagami buried her head in between Misao's legs and sucked on her clit, using her tongue to push it back and forth out of her mouth.

"I'm going to explode!" Misao screamed, "Hiiragi is finger fucking me in my room!" She exclaimed out loud.

"I love making you feel good, Misao.." Kagami said in between licks, thrusting her finger a little faster now, "Your juices keep flowing more and more... Means I'm doing a good job right?"

"Kagami, I'm..." Misao said suddenly. Her entire body shook in sensual tremors, "I don't know what's happening! My pussy is gonna explode!"

"You're coming, Misao," Kagami said, turning herself on with her teacher-esque tone "Let it happen, it feels so good."

"Oh my God, it does!" Misao moaned again, "I'm coming! I'm coming! Oh, my G..." Her pelvis again shot up into the air, Kagami didn't stop as Misao orgasmed into her mouth. "Goddddd!" Misao gasped for air, "Oh my God, oh my God!"

She pulled Kagami's face into her wet vagina one last time as the bottom half of her body hung in mid-air and she let out a scream so high pitched that it was almost inaudible and ended as a whimper.

Her first orgasm was beyond anything she could have comprehended beforehand.

The two teenage girls laid beside each other on top of Misao's now drenched bed sheets, both gasping for air. Misao from the intense nature of her first orgasm... and Kagami from the intense nature of Misao's first orgasm.

"Whew!" Kagami said, wiping her mouth, "Almost suffocated me there." "Sorry." Misao rubbed the back of her head, "It was just..." "I know," Kagami grinned, "I understand."

"Hiiragi, I don't know what to do with myself.." Misao said, "I want to do this again and again with you."

"Preachin' to the choir," Kagami said, looking over again at Misao's sweating, naked body.

"I want to make you come." Misao said, "I just... Would you guide me? Like, tell me what to do?"

Kagami raised an eyebrow, "Ummm... The same exact thing?"

"C'mon, just walk me through it!" Misao pleaded, "Don't you want to come too?"

"I do. But maybe..." Kagami sighed, still catching her breath "We should take a little rest first."

Misao smiled, "Good idea, Hiiragi." Misao turned on her side and gave Kagami another kiss, "Thank you... So much."

"Don't mention it." Kagami said, lowering her voice to a sensual whisper, "I love the way you taste."

Misao blushed, "That's a heck of a thing to say." She said, "This was amazing but definitely super weird. Completely out of character for both of us."

"Believe me," Kagami said, "I've made peace with that."

Misao cuddled against Kagami from behind, letting her breasts push softly on her back.

"I'm glad it was you," Misao said.

"Me too." Kagami said, her eyes getting heavier, "Me too..."

Slowly but surely the girls fell asleep in each other's arms.

Misao didn't get around to helping Kagami finish again that afternoon.

But all the same, Kagami felt more like her normal self than she had since viewing that damn DVD.

As the two girls dozed off, Misao thought to herself, not sure what the future really held with this newfound hobby. She hoped it wouldn't change her friendship with Kagami. But she was also hopeful and full of butterflies. Ultimately, all she knew was that it felt good.

It felt really, really good.

[hazelxrumford]

HAZEL RUMFORD is a 17 year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. She is originally from SEATTLE, WA but moved to Broadripple 2 YEARS ago. She is ARTISTIC and SELF-RELIANT but can also be OBLIVIOUS and UNSURE. 

1. Full Name?

Hazel Renee Rumford

2. Preferred Names or Nicknames?

Hazel is already nice and short but she’s had some people call her Zel from time to time. Parents would call her their Hazelnut and brother would just call her ‘a dense nut’ when on his nerves.

3. What does their name mean? Does it have any significance in their family? Do they like their name?

Hazel was the name her birth parents gave to her and unfortunately, she was never able to find out if it did have any special meaning to them. Renee was picked out by the couple that adopted her though. Her mother saying she’d always thought it a romantic name when she was younger and hoping to have a daughter named that.

4. Age and Date of Birth?

Seventeen and May 14th

5. Gender and Pronouns?

Female. Her/She

6. Hometown?

Hazel was born in Salem Oregon but the Rumfords lived in Seattle Washington when they adopted her as an infant and so she’s grown up there ever since.

7. Does your character fit into any well known archetypes or tropes?  

Peacemaker, The Innocent, The Advocate, Renaissance Woman.

8. How long have they been at Broadripple?

She came part way into freshman year.

9. What led them to apply to Broadripple? Was it a decision made by them or by their parents/guardians or somewhere in between?

Her parents were the ones to offer it. Originally, they were going to have their son go first and continue the family legacy since he is the eldest. Yet when health issues held him back from applying, they approached Hazel the following year with the offer. She wanted to make her parents proud and gladly went, excited at the opportunity.

10. Whether they’ve been at Broadripple four days or four years, do they enjoy it? Do they like Broadripple?

Two years in and Hazel is enjoying it plenty. She’s a fan of all the activities and clubs she can be part of, the bit of free elbow room from her family was a bonus she didn’t realize she’d like as well. Not that her parents ever tried to really hold her back but Hazel feels less restrained and able to pursue as many interests as possible.

11. What house are they in? Do they care very much about their house?

Melleray and very much so. She likes connecting with different kinds of people and their interests, so she was very excited when she got to be Junior Captain of Melleray. She takes pride in the position but isn’t a competitive person so while she hopes they could win Clary Cup each year, she’s just as happy for any other house that does as well.

12. Who do they share a dorm with, or are they on their own for the moment? What are they like to live with? Are they clean or messy? Early risers or night owls?

Wendy Sanderson shares the dorm room with her for now and Hazel wonders if the contained chaos she brings annoys the girl from time to time. Everything that’s Hazel’s is in her own space but that doesn’t mean it’s always the most organized; at least not to an outside eye. Add in that Hazel pulls late nights even when she has a reason to rise earlier in the morning; she’s always hoping her peace offerings of coffee and pizza make the set up tolerable.

13. How is your character’s dorm decorated? Is it bare or bursting at the seems with personality? Any particular sentimental items from home?

One of her favorite things to put up are the drawings she does. While being an artist isn’t her set goal, she enjoys what she can create on a blank piece of paper and the cathartic feeling tied with it. She changes them out as she either improves or her subject changes. There’s also a large bulletin board taking up the wall beside her bed that’s full of notes, flyers, letters, anything she’d find important to remember. Things can slip her mind from time to time so she likes to have them in eyesight so she might recall them better. There are a few framed pictures from home that have a fond and set place on her dresser, professional photography grade of the four Rumfords.

14. What is their favorite subject at school? Do they even have a favorite? Why?

It’s hard for her to pick just one as she prefers to dabble in a little bit of everything but she is drawn to her business management class most at the moment. Hoping to absorb any helpful knowledge for the future if she wants to start her own non-profit.

15. Are they involved in any clubs? Which ones?

Hazel loves being a member of SWAT. Being active and always looking for ideas and activities to involve others with. That’s all she’s in for now as most of her hobbies take up plenty of her time.

16. How does your character feel about Broadripple’s Unofficial Clubs? Do they know about them? Are they a part of any of them?

She finds them all interesting and a bit amusing at times. Some have her raise a brow like the Chasity Club but she knows it’s just a different point of view from her own. The Unsolved catches her attention from time to time but so far not enough to pursue it. She’s heard a boys club exists but that’s the extent of what she knows and cares about anyway.

17. Does your character participate in any sports? If so, what made them join the team?

Hazel is in swimming and track, since they’re usually in different seasons so she’s able to solely focus on one at a time. Both have a bit of a history of testing her body and keeping it fit, started by her mother.  She believes – almost certainly knows – that she was coerced if not pushed a bit into them because of her brother’s poor health. Maybe it was transferring some their hopes for him onto her or just in a fear of having another child held back by physical limits.

18. What afternoon activities does your character do? Do they just do the one mandatory one or are they involved in multiple? Why?

One of her favorite activities is to volunteer at the animal shelter; who doesn’t love to be around animals? Pets were also never allowed in the family home so she gets her own personal pleasure of getting to cuddle a cat or play with a dog. Another favorite is drawing. Still art is her best and charcoal is her choice, which unfortunately can often stain her clothes and face if she’s not always aware.

19. Do they miss their home when they’re at Broadripple? Do they often go home for the weekends or do they only go home during holiday breaks?

She does, so at times it saddens her when the majority of her weekends are spent at school. With busy parents she’s realistic to know they have limited free time, and at least she gets most major holidays with them.

20. Did your character know Izzy De Santis or Maggie Monroe?  

She knew of Maggie but not personally, Izzy was a fellow Melleray and while they might not have been the closest she was still affected by his disappearance.

21. Has your character heard of Edith Lynch? Do they know the story?

Hazel has heard some of the stories but she’s not the best at keeping up with gossip and stories, or absorbing the details. While she’s probably heard the story a number of times she wouldn’t be able to recite it herself off the top of her head. She finds it interesting, if not just sad, but nothing has ever prompted her to ponder any more on the subject.

22. How does your character feel about Nighmore? Have they noticed the recently closed shops yet?

She finds it a charming place, certainly a change from Seattle. While she might miss the variety and liveliness of the city she enjoys the small cozy feel Nighmore has; even if there is an occasional eerie tint to it. The Cooper Kettle was one of her favorite places to go so she was very aware when it closed. She only just recently heard of Hill’s closing but nothing has made her very suspicious yet.

[aswithasunbeam]

Champagne and Scratch Tickets

[Read on AO3]

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Eliza gets up at the crack of dawn each morning to work at the corner store, doing all she can to keep things afloat after her parents' death. The one thing cutting into her profit margin: the cute boy from the barber shop across the street, who she can't seem to stop giving free coffee to.

A Hamilton/ In the Heights Mashup with Eliza as Usnavi, Alex as Vanessa, Angelica as Nina, and Peggy as Sonny.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Bess. Maybe I should just drop out.” Angelica heaved herself up onto the checkout counter with a sigh.

“Absolutely not,” Eliza said. “Whatever happens, you stay in school. It’s what mom and dad wanted.”

“When my grades come in, Stanford might not give me any choice.”

Angelica’s legs dangled in front of the alcohol and cigarette age disclaimers, mostly bare but for her high cut shorts. Thomas, loitering around the magazine rack, shot Angelica an appreciative glance, Eliza noticed. James noticed, too, apparently, because he gave Thomas a swift smack with a newspaper. Eliza cut her eyes to her sister, and they shared a look of stifled amusement.

Eliza gave her a companionable pat before turning back to stocking the scratch tickets displayed on the other side of the register. “We’ll figure something out, Ange. I promise. We’ll find some more money for you, so you won’t have to work so much. Then you can focus on your classes, get through finals.”

“You don’t have any more money to send,” Angelica said, eyeing the peeling linoleum floor.

True, Eliza granted silently, thinking of the stack of overdue bills on the kitchen table, their bright red final notices practically glowing on the envelopes, not to mention the broken refrigerator on the far wall, still waiting for the repairman to give an estimate. But their parents would turn over in their graves if Angelica didn’t finish school. Conjuring a smile, she said, “We’ll find a way.”

A long, slow whistle of appreciation came from the front window, where a group of two guys and a girl had their heads tilted, peering over the sign announcing a sale on Doritos. Following their eye line, she saw Alex bent over in the refrigerator, his rear beautifully framed in his tight blue jeans. Eliza felt her own head tilting sideways. Alex glanced to the side and threw up his middle finger at the window, prompting the group to walk hastily away.

“What are you looking at?” Angelica asked mischievously.

Eliza gave a flustered start.  

Just then, Peggy skidded to a stop in front of the counter, still tying her apron around her waist. “What are we talking about?”

“I’m worrying about my future,” Angelica said. “Eliza’s checking out boys and pretending to care.”

“I care,” Eliza insisted.

“No judgment here,” Peggy said, openly staring at Alex, who was now standing upright with his cell pressed to his ear. “That boy is fine.”

“Shut up,” Eliza whispered.

Alex spun on the spot and his voice raised in volume. “No, no! I’ll definitely be there. I’ll see you this afternoon. We’ll go over that lease. Thanks.” He hung up and grinned to himself, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

“Good news?” Angelica asked him.

His head swiveled towards them. “I have a lead on an apartment near campus.” He pointed to Eliza. “You owe me a bottle of champagne.”

“You’re moving?” Eliza heard herself asking. She could only hope the heartbreak didn’t come through in her voice.

“If all goes to plan.” He plopped the Pepsi on the counter to check out. “Your fridge smells pretty bad, by the way.”

“Yeah, it’s broken,” Eliza said, hurrying to pour him his customary morning coffee. “It’s been so hot, they’ve been working overtime. It must have finally given out last night.”

“Oh.” An awkward pause followed as he eyed the coffee. “Is the milk okay?”

“I used condensed milk. You know, from the can?”

“Clever,” he praised, clearly impressed.

“My mom’s old recipe.” She shoved a piece of hair back away from her sweaty face. “You’re good to go. It’s all on the house.”

That sweet, warm smile of his fell on her for a heart stopping moment. “Thanks.”  

“So, you’re going back to school?” Angelica asked.

“Yeah. I got accepted to Columbia. With scholarships and the money I’ve saved up working at Mulligan’s, I might just be able to afford it for a semester,” Alex said. “Watch yourself Ivy League. You’ve got competition.”

Angelica laughed, though Eliza noticed a distinct tightness in her face.

“How’s school going for you?” His voice was colored with hope, his dreams clearly pinned on Angelica’s recent escape from the neighborhood.

“Great,” Angelica replied, strain apparent. “Really great. You know, lots of tests, lots of papers.”

“Right.” He sighed wistfully and sipped at his coffee. He raised the coffee cup in a salute to the three of them. “Well, I should get to work. Mr. Mulligan won’t wait forever.” A patent lie. The fatherly barber would starve to death before letting Alex go.

“Bye,” Angelica said.

“See you,” Peggy waved.

“I love you,” Eliza said.

“What?” Angelica, Peggy, and Alex all asked in unison.

“What?” she echoed, face flushing. Oh dear God, had she said that out loud? Grabbing blindly, she laid hand on the pizza dough for the little personal pizzas she put out at lunch time. “Dough! I love dough.”

“Dough?” Alex repeated.

“Yeah. It smells amazing. Nothing like pizza dough to start the morning.”

“Mm,” he hummed, leaning closer to inspect the lump. She closed her eyes, inhaling the smell of his spiced soap on his skin. “Looks good. Maybe I’ll come back for a pizza this afternoon.”

“Yes!” Too eager, she scolded herself. Way too eager. Pull it back. “Yeah, I guess. You know, if you want to.”  

He smiled again as he backed away. He was so pretty she wanted to cry. When the door swished shut behind him, Peggy punched Eliza lightly on the arm. “Oh my God, just ask him out, you freak.”

“No!” Eliza looked askance. “I can’t do that. Look at him.”

They all watched him crossing the street towards Mulligan’s Barber Shop.

“I don’t see a thing wrong,” Peggy said.

“He’s…he’s him. And I’m me.” She gestured to her stained apron and messy hair falling out of her ponytail. “All I’m good for is taking reports of broken fridges and giving away free coffee.”

“That’s so not true. He should be so lucky as to get a girl like you,” Angelica said seriously.

Eliza fought not to scoff.

**

The door dinged when Alex walked in that afternoon.

“Hey handsome,” Peggy greeted, jumping down off the stool she’d been using to stock granola bars on the highest shelf. Eliza sent her glare across the store, to which Peggy gave a careless shrug.

“Hey Pegs,” Alex replied, heading towards the convenience items near the register.

Be normal, Eliza instructed herself as he approached. “How’s work going?”

“As good as sweeping up hair can be,” he replied, rifling around in the candy bars. “God, I can’t wait to quit.”

“Everything’s moving forward with Columbia, then?”

He crossed his fingers and held them up over the shelving for her to see.

“Good. That’s good.” It wasn’t good at all. Her chest hurt at the thought of not seeing him every day.  

He headed towards the spinning food heater displaying hotdogs and pizzas, and finagled a pizza onto a plate for himself to go with his Milky Way bar.

“Hey, Alex?” Peggy asked, sauntering over to him.

“Yeah?”

“My sister over there with her tongue hanging out? She’s wondering what a gentleman such as yourself might be doing this evening.”

Eliza’s eyes widened and she hissed, “Peggy.”

Alex glanced over at her, amusement glittering in his pretty, pretty dark eyes. “Does your sister dance?”

“Eh.” Peggy tilted her hand back and forth. Eliza felt her cheeks heating up with mortification.

Alex only laughed. “Well, maybe her and I could check out a club tonight. You know, if you think she’d like that.”

“Oh, I think she’d like that.”

Eliza sunk down behind the counter. It was as close to the earth swallowing her as she could get. She heard footsteps approaching, and, peeking up, she found Alex leaning over the counter. “I need to pay for these.”

“Just take it,” she said, waving him away.

“Ok. Thanks.” He sank his teeth into the pizza, chewed, swallowed, then winked. “You’re right, by the way. This dough really is amazing.”

She groaned and rolled forward, her forehead pressing against her knees.

He laughed again. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah. See you tonight.”

Peggy scooted behind the counter as Alex left. “You know, you might be able to afford to help Angie out more if you stopped giving Alex free stuff all the time.”

“I can’t believe you did that.” She stood back up, wiping the dirt off her jeans. “That was humiliating.”

“But now you have an actual date, instead of mooning over him from a far. Progress, Bess. Progress.”

Much more progress, and she was going to have to change zip codes.

           **

The music from the club was so loud she felt it in her ribcage more than a block away. Her legs felt sore and rubbery as she struggled down the stairs through the crowd, and she cursed the damn refrigerator repair guy who’d made her heave the two ton monstrosity across half the store. “I need better light,” he’d said. She’d been half tempted to beat him senseless with his own crappy flashlight.

“Alex!” A platinum blonde called from across the room, waving frantically.

Alex didn’t seem to notice. His hand was warm where it pressed against the small of her back. He probably gave amazing back rubs, she considered, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Do you come here a lot?” Eliza asked.

“I wouldn’t say a lot.”

“Hey Alex!” A different girl shouted from the bar. At the same time, a guy stopped in front of them, gave Alex a full head to toe appraisal, and mouthed, “Nice.”

When she glanced back at him, he shrugged. “I like to dance.”

She winced. “I hate to say this, but I’m pretty sore from work. I don’t think I can do much dancing tonight.”

His smile made her heart skip again. “That’s okay. Want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

He gestured at a table where Gilbert and Jack were already sitting as he pushed through the crowd towards the bar. The two usually exuberant men looked oddly glum. Taking a seat, she asked, “What’s wrong with you two?”

“The car service is under new management,” Jack said. He handed her a shot.

“Is the new manager bad?” she asked, gulping it down with a shiver.

Jack took a shot too. “Wouldn’t know.”

“We’ve been ‘restructured’ right into the unemployment line,” Gilbert explained.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It was a crap job anyway,” Jack said with a shrug. “We’ll figure something out.”

Ah, that old, familiar refrain.

She looked out through the sea of people and saw Alex with three different pairs of hands grabbing at him as he leaned over the bar.  Seeming to sense her eyes on him, he craned his head back and smiled again. Her heart felt like it might pound right out of her chest.

“So, you’re here with Alex, huh?” Jack was smirking.

“Yeah.”

“Took you long enough,” Gilbert added.

Her responding look of indignation faded when she remembered she hadn’t actually ever gotten up the courage to do more than hand him free coffee and drool over him when he walked away.

Alex hadn’t even sat down in a chair when someone paused before the table and offered, “Hey, want to dance.”

“I’m here with someone,” he refused.

She winced again. She didn’t want to be the wet blanket holding him back from a fun night out. “You can, if you want.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, sipping at the fruity drink he’d brought her. The concoction tasted exactly like a watermelon Jolly Rancher. Was there even alcohol in it?

“You might want to be careful with that,” Jack warned after she’d sucked down half the drink in two sips. “Those things are lethal.”

She scoffed and took another long sip. Alex had four different people attempting to dance with him on the floor. They’d formed a circle around him, and he turned in place, not seeming to care which of them he was dancing with at any moment. Were people that interchangeable to him? Was she interchangeable? Or was he trying to make her jealous?

After finishing the drink, and stealing a few more shots from Gilbert and Jack for good measure, she pushed back from the table and headed towards the bar, the floor a little more unstable than she remembered. Her legs felt better, at least. She swayed her hips as she approached the bar, where she ordered another one of the watermelon-Jolly Rancher-thingies.  

A girl was grabbing Alex’s ass when the bartender slid the drink across the bar to her. Well, she didn’t have to just take that, right? She could make him jealous right back. Turning to the right, she saw a gorgeous guy leaning against the wall near the bar, glistening with sweat,  his shirt unbuttoned all the way to his belly button.  

“Hey,” she said, trying to smoothly get the guy’s attention. Her heel turned under her, and she had to catch herself on the wall next to him. That did the trick—the guy looked down at her with a quizzical expression.

“Sí?”

“So I’m kind of psychic,” she said, tongue clumsy on the ‘s’ sounds. She touched a finger to his chiseled chest muscles. He looked down at her finger, then back at her. “I looked into your future, and saw me on you.”

He shook his head. “No hablo inglés.”

Only then did the full horror of what she’d just said occur to her. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered to herself, cringing as she began to back away. “Sorry!”

When she started back towards the table, she saw Alex had finally returned. He didn’t look happy, though, she noted, sliding back into her seat. He had his head down and he was slowly banging it against the table over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was still a little slurred. “Was it that guy? Cause that didn’t mean anything.”

Jack slid a piece of paper over to her. “This got delivered today. I promised Mulligan I’d bring it over to Alex. It’s uh, not good news.”

Trying to make her swimming vision focus on the words, she made out Columbia’s logo on the top. The financial aid office, she recognized after a moment’s more squinting. The word “denied” jumped out from the first sentence.

“Your father’s income is too high for you to qualify for the aid package you applied for?” she asked after far too long trying to comprehend the message. “I didn’t know your father was helping you?”

“Yeah, me either.” He picked his head up off the table. A big, red mark stood out prominently on his forehead. “Maybe they could forward me his address. He hasn’t bothered to keep me updated on his whereabouts for the past fifteen years or so.”

“God, Alex,” she sighed, putting the paper down on the table. “I’m sorry. You’ll get it straightened out, I’m sure. Even if you have to wait another year—”

“I don’t want to wait another year!” His voice went up an octave. “I want out of here. Don’t you get it? Don’t you want more from your life then selling coffee and candy bars to people in that money pit of yours?”

She frowned, sobering up immediately at the dig. Plenty of people thought that about her, she knew. Sweet, dependable Eliza, if only she had some drive, some ambition.

Her displeasure must have shown on her face, because he said immediately, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a money pit,” she said. “That was my parents’ store.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

She cast her eyes down at the table. His chair slid back, barely audible over the driving beat. When she looked up again, he was dragging his fingers through his hair.

“I’m gonna go. I’m not really in a dancing mood anymore.” He gave her a pained look. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice chilly. “Sure.”

“You should be gentle with him,” Gilbert said after Alex had left. “He’s very insecure.”

“Insecure?” she echoed with clear disbelief. “He got felt up by everyone in the club and then insulted me. And you’re telling me I need to be gentle?”

“He likes you. A lot,” Jack said. “I gave him the letter to cheer him up after he got all weird and mopey because you were talking to that guy at the bar. Though that clearly didn’t work so well.”  

She fought off a wave of lingering humiliation and frowned down at the letter again. “Well, he shouldn’t have gotten all weird. I didn’t get weird when those girls were all over him.”

Jack snorted.

She glared at him and stole another shot.

**

“There’s no power,” Peggy announced, flipping on the overhead light in Eliza’s bedroom the next morning.

Eliza rolled over, covering her eyes with her arm as she groaned. Her mouth was dry and her head felt like she’d been trampled in a stampede of wild horses. Those watermelon drinks had packed a punch.

“I thought you said you were opening for me,” Eliza grumbled. “Go open. And turn off the damn light.”

“Fun night last night?” Peggy smirked.

“Horrible night,” she corrected, tossing a pillow in Peggy’s general direction. “Light.”

The light turned off. “I can’t open. The store has no power,” Peggy explained.  

Eliza rolled back towards her, squinting. “What?”

“No power,” Peggy repeated again, more slowly.

“Why?”

“Well, I found the bill. It’s way, way overdue. That might be why.”

Eliza swore and sat up. As if they hadn’t just lost enough money with the broken fridge, now they risked losing even more product. “I’ll call.”

Sitting on hold with a hangover had to be one of the circles of hell, she decided, holding the phone far from her ear to minimize the volume of the delirious circus music blaring out at her. She laid with her head down on the table for the first ten minutes, then doodled on a pad, and then rifled through the old mail while she waited. Alex’s letter sat on top of the stack, slightly crumpled from her pocket. She must have taken it with her by accident.

She read it over again in the sober light of day. Pissed as she was at him, she couldn’t help feeling a little bit bad. He was so close to getting what he wanted. To have it snatched away at the last second like that, seemed too cruel to bear, even if he had danced all night with other people.

Jack’s words floated back to her, suddenly, the memory foggy as it fought through the drunken haze of last night. “He likes you. A lot.”

She smiled. Did he really like her, she wondered. She had told him it was okay to dance with other people, she supposed. And he had gotten sad and jealous when she’d tried to talk to another guy. (Oh, God, that poor other guy, she thought, humiliation crashing over her once again.) Still, maybe the night hadn’t been a total disaster after all?

She read the contents of the letter again, more closely now, dragging a pen under the most important parts. She’d dealt with a maze of financial aid nonsense for Angelica last year. The ladies in the office had fawned over the young, sweet, orphan girl trying to help her big sister. Alex would probably shout at them. Maybe if she made a call, she could help?

“Ma’am?” A tinny voice cut through the circus music at last.

“Oh. Yes. Hello. I’m calling to get my power turned back on?”

**

Eliza kicked her legs impatiently against the store counter as she waited for the power to flip back on. They assured her it would be back within an hour after she’d made the payment, using money meant to cover rent. (Oh well, one crisis at a time.) It was now going on two hours.  After a crazed morning of having Peggy rush over with coffee pots from their apartment to serve their most loyal patrons, she’d put up a sign announcing cash only sales and hunkered down to wait.

The bell over the door dinged when she was bent over, looking for a chocolate bar to pass the time. “Cash only, no cold goods,” she announced by rote.

“What happened to your power?” Alex, she identified, snapping back up to look at him.

“Went out. Apparently that’s what happens when you don’t pay the bill for three months.”

“Gotcha.” He held up a curvy green bottle and a scratch ticket as he approached. “I got you some stuff.”

“Champagne?”

“Hair of the dog,” he smirked.

“I don’t think champagne’s what bit me last night,” she replied. At least, she didn’t think so. “What’s the occasion?”

“Partly an apology. I’m sorry about last night. That’s not how I meant it to go. I shouldn’t have gone off dancing with other people.”

“I said it was okay.”

“It was dumb of me. I was just so nervous and flustered. I was worried if we just talked I’d say something stupid. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a real date.”

“Seriously? You practically have to beat people off you with a stick.”

He shrugged slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “Then, when you said I could dance with that girl, I thought maybe you didn’t really want to be out with me.” He was blushing now, perfectly sculpted tan cheekbones turning pink with embarrassment.

She couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped. He really was insecure as Jack claimed last night. At his wounded look, she leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, honey. That’s just ridiculous. I have never wanted to go out on a date with another person more in my entire life.”

Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the adoration she saw in his eyes. “Really?”  

“Yeah. But I appreciate the apology.”

“I’m also sorry about what I said, about you and the store. It’s great, what you do here.”

She sighed. “I know it’s not fancy or impressive, running the store. Not like you and Angelica.”

He opened his mouth, no doubt to contradict her, but she waved a hand to stop him.

“I wanted to go to school, too, you know. Certainly not an Ivy League school, but maybe just community college. Or maybe travel for a year. I don’t know. I hadn’t worked it out yet. But then my folks died. Someone needed to step up, to be the grownup. Angelica was at Stanford already, and they were so proud of her. Peggy’s just a kid, still. So I did it. I stepped up.”

“You’re a rock,” he said. “You keep this place running. You anchor the whole neighborhood. That’s pretty impressive to me.”  

“I’m not curing cancer or anything, but I like keeping my parents’ legacy alive, reminding everyone they were here, giving Angelica a place to come home to. It feels important.”  

“It is. More than I think you even realize.” He heaved himself onto the counter beside her.

“What’s the other part?” she asked.

“Mm?”

“You said it was partly an apology.”

“Oh, right. The other part is celebration.” He smiled at her. “The funniest thing happened today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I called Columbia to try to straighten things out with my financial aid. I was raring for a fight with them, too. But they told me they’d already talked to my sister, and she’d explained the whole situation regarding my father. So everything’s back on track with my aid package.”

“That’s pretty great.” Relief swept over her that she’d been able to accomplish at least something useful this morning.

“It is. The funny thing is, I don’t have a sister.”

“Weird,” she said, trying for deadpan.

“Really weird.” His hand touched her knee, fingers tickling lightly over her skin, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. “It’s also honestly the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“What are you thanking me for? I’m definitely not your sister.” Grinning at him, she grabbed the champagne and started working at the foil. The cork popped with a resounding bang and bubbles rushed up the neck of the bottle. “Cheers.”

She took a swig and handed it over to share. They traded the bottle back and forth a few times. “You didn’t lose that apartment in all the financial aid craziness, did you? The one you were talking about yesterday?”

“No. But, um, I’m thinking about turning it down.”

“You are?”  

“Yeah. I think I’ll stick around here. Mulligan said I can keep living with him, working part time. I can take the train to classes. That way, I might even be able to afford a whole year of school.”

“I thought you wanted to get out of here?”

“I did. I’m starting to see the appeal of this place, though.”

“What changed your mind?” she asked. He’d seemed pretty dead set on leaving the night before.

“I think it was that dough of yours.”

She punched him on the arm.

“I mean it. I think I’m falling for it.” He winked and leaned in to kiss her.

His breath was warm against her cheek, and smelled sweet from the champagne. Their lips touched, chaste at first, adjusting to the sensation. His goatee felt scratchy, but she couldn’t say she cared. She leaned in, placing her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, her mouth parting to invite in his tongue. She moaned softly when his arms wrapped around her in return.  

They pulled apart minutes later, both slightly out of breath.

His hand landed on the scratch ticket as they disentangled themselves. He held it up to her. “You gonna try your luck?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t been so great lately,” she said, gesturing to the darkened store. “You sure you don’t wanna try?”

“No way. I never win shit. You go.”

She fished a nickel out of the take-a-penny tray and starting scratching away the gray boxes. As the little pots beneath became visible, she felt her eyes widening. One-two-three pots. She squinted, sure she wasn’t reading the ticket right. Electricity surged back through the store.

Alex clapped at the restored power, then tapped her shoulder. “Did you win?”

She nodded, mouth parted with shock.

“Cool. How much?”

“96,000.”

Their eyes met, gazing at each other in stunned silence.

[essaysbyciara]

Thy Neighbor (Chapter 3)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) 

I REALLY appreciate the love, y’all. Thank you for reading. I sat on this story for about a month because I was lightweight terrified lol. If you would like to be added onto the taglist, let me know! 

She heard the heavy tapping of the headboard and the muffled screams. Trevante’s dates couldn’t keep it down even if they tried. Usually, Ciara could tune it all out. At its worst she put on her favorite podcast, full blast from her headphones,  and waited for the sex scene next door to be over. It also didn’t help that Ciara is trying her damndest to be celibate. Sex wasn’t coming to her door every night like it was for Trevante. So Trevante’s trysts were absurd. 

As she laid in bed in annoyance, her mind drifted back to that morning when she held Trevante in her arms. It had been a while since she gave a man that type of energy. Her last being her ex-boyfriend. He was nothing like Trevante: thin frame, thick glasses, wicked smart. They could talk about the world’s problems for hours and how they were going to fix them -- together. He was as nerdy as she was, as awkward as she was. And he was her first. He made her feel things that she never felt before, made her mind wander in class and her hand twitch in anticipation of the night ahead. And moved her to make the same noises she heard from Trevante’s apartment.

She thought he was going to be the last to make her sound that way. When she graduated from college and started working in non-profits, she changed. She was at high power meetings and he wasn’t. She would miss dates for networking events, ditch weekend trips for work retreats. She started to distance herself from their future to focus squarely onto her own. When she had the opportunity to move to Philadelphia to go to the graduate school of her dreams, she made the decision without his consideration. He wasn’t on her radar. So he left.

And she felt it. Moving into her apartment was the lonliest day she never imagined. The person that motivated her to achieve her dreams, the one that made her think she was the Michelle to his Barack wanted nothing to do with her. And in revenge, she set out to prove that she didn’t need him.

Drug dealers from Southwest Philly. International MBAs with broken English. White boys looking to try something different. Her apartment was a turnstall for every man she wanted. She became irresistible: the drug dealers thought she was innocent, the MBAs thought she was such a bad girl. But then she met her match.

Ciara met Y’lan at a speaker’s series at their school. He had a honey brown complexion with a soft build and wide smile. His Atlanta accent crept as he spoke. He was nothing like Ciara had ever seen before: beautiful and smart. Knew every rap lyrics on the radio but wouldn’t miss a Sunday at church. He worked in faith based non profits, looking to maybe one day become a minister. But he thought his calling wasn’t in the pulpit but in the streets with the people.

He could talk to men on the corner about faith and family, never chastising them for not holding the same faith as his own. He could walk into schools and speak to students about education, talking in their language and relating to their stories. He could walk into any church and convince them to support programming for children. He was built for that life.

When Y’lan met Ciara, he felt something that he never felt before. Her wide glasses made her seem studious, her four inch heels made her seem daring. Ciara’s confidence about her plus-size frame was evident too. She carried herself as if she was the finest thing moving and Y’lan could feel that. In all the right -- and wrong -- places. When she challenged the speaker on the panel, his heart skipped a beat. He thought he met the one.

But she wasn’t ready to be anybody’s. Ciara would have one foot in the church and the other stepping hanging the bed of a Meek she met weeks prior. She wasn’t committed. And she knew it. One day, she had enough. As she left a date’s apartment, she sat in her car and bawled. She knew that she coped  from the lost of her ex-boyfriend the wrong way. She knew that she couldn’t keep up this lifestyle. In that moment she cried out and God heard her.

Walking out of that conference, she was primed to be the person she knew she could be. As she grabbed her things, Y’lan gently tapped her on the shoulder.

“That question was incredible. I was wondering if anyone was going to say something about that.”

“Thanks! I just couldn’t sit there just … especially being the only Black people in the room, I couldn’t…”

“No, I … I get you. I, uh, am on my way to grab some coffee. Would you like to join me?”

Ciara hesitated. Y’lan was the finest man she had seen in quite some time. His frame, that smile, that accent. Genuine poured from his energy. But she couldn’t. She knew that this wasn’t the time to engage anyone. Even though her body was ready for whatever Y’lan had in store for her.

“I would love to but I have class super early tomorrow.” As she started to walk away, she felt a tinge of relent. “But here’s my number. We can definitely meet up soon.” Y’lan watches Ciara walk away, trying to downplay the lust cascading throughout his body.

That phone call was two hours and 15 minutes. They talked about everything, sharing their faith stories and life’s dreams. He admitted that she made his heart skip when she asked that question at the event. She admitted that she wanted to get coffee with him that night but decided against it because she didn’t want to rush.

It was as if they laid their hearts out on the line for each other to see who would be afraid first. They both refused to walk away.

It would continue this way. They’d meet up for coffee in the morning, sitting at the same table, talking about their upcoming day. Phone calls until three in the morning. Sunday lunches, Saturday night music sessions.

But they never committed to each other. Ciara couldn’t form the words and Y’lan was too afraid. This would be his first relationship since joining ministry. He didn’t know how he could handle it all especially the feelings inside of him. Y’lan wanted to have sex with Ciara. All of his other relationships went down that way but he knew things would have to be different this time. It racked him for hours, wanting to text her to come over. Thinking of ways to go some of the way but not all with her.

Ciara would always keep a set of DD batteries at her disposal. She wanted Y’lan too but knew she couldn’t. When he would leave, her right drawer would open instantly. Thought it felt good in the moment, she would always feel a tinge of shame. She wondered if he went home and did the same thing.  He did. The thought would be enough for her to feign to know what he sounded like, to watch him bring himself to release. And her drawer would reopen. Like clockwork.

They both thought it was only them in agony until they found themselves in a place where they could express it.

Y’lan watched Ciara as she packed her things to go home for Spring Break. As her luggage started to spill over, he felt like he needed to spill out what was going on in his heart.

“I’m going to miss you. Straight up.”

“You know you could have came home with me. My family would like you. We got a couchbed in the house, you could have stayed with us.”

“That’s cool. I just… lots to do here with the program and stuff. I just…”

“What’s up, Y’lan? What’s up?”

Ciara sits on Y’lan’s lap and his heart starts to explode. She never did that. The thoughts started to brew and his breath became short.

“I guess I don’t want to forget about me like ol’ boy…” Ciara slowly moved off of Y’lan in slight disgust. He never brought up her ex but in a moment that could have drawn them closer, he makes him a point.

“The fuck you mean by that…?”

“You like to go away and forget about people, so…”

“You gotta go. Wow.”

Y’lan was a sabotager. When he didn’t want to hurt, he brought it onto other people. Things couldn’t be good for long, they were never meant to be.

“Yo, Ciara. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you.”

Ciara hurries Y’lan out of her apartment. Stuck in a place between desperation and rage, she grabs her phone. The cats from Southwest Philly seemed mighty tempting in that moment. But she stops when she hears a soft knock on her door. As much as she doesn’t want to let Y’lan in, she knew in her heart that she wanted to fix things. That there had to be an explanation for what was said. She knew Y’lan’s heart.

“I’m sorry!” Y’lan screams from the other side of the door. As Ciara slowly opens the door, Y’lan walks in, instantly grabbing her by her waist. He whispers apologies into her ear, telling her that he doesn’t want to lose her. As she feels her body fall into his, he grabs her chin, pulling her in for a kiss. They were never this soft.

“Can we…” She dreaded that question, only wanting to say yes. As she leans her head into his, her lips part. She knows what she wants to do. He feels it radiate from her. One moment before they leave. Something to hold them over until she returns.

“We can’t.” Y’lan knew that was the right answer even though it felt so wrong. He kisses her on her forehead and releases her from his hold. He slowly starts to walk to her door.

“Wait, Y’lan. You don’t have to leave.”

“Nah. I think it’s best.”

Ciara stands there bewildered. She didn’t think telling him no would be enough for him to leave. She also didn’t know that he felt overwhelmed with guilt. So much that her calls and text went unanswered while Ciara was home on break. So much that when she got back to Philadelphia, she went to their favorite coffee shop the following morning, sat at the same table, and he never showed up. So much that she went to the next speaker series looking to find him and he was nowhere to be found. So much that when he saw her reading in the courtyard, he turned around to walk the other way. So much that he felt called to move away from the city. To sabotage his world as punishment for leaving her alone.

Ciara wanted to sabotage Trevante’s night. As she finished another episode of her podcast, the moans and screams from the other side became louder.

How could Trevante show so much disrespect after what Ciara did for him? Why is he coping with grief the same way that she did? He didn’t he recognize that Ciara wanted to show another act of love by making him food and keeping him company. Why didn’t Trevante want her company?

As she walked into the kitchen, she looks at the plate of food she made for Trevante. Even after all of that, she kept her promise. As she mulls over whether to eat it or follow through with her side of the deal, she hears his door open and close. “Track body” was finally gone, she thought. Suddenly, Ciara felt pushed to deliver.

“I have a plate for Trevante.” Ciara stands tall as she notices Trevante’s date open up the door with confidence. She didn’t care that she was still there. Her anger -- and sexual angst -- were enough for her to disregard her meekness.

“Uh, ummm...but ain’t you…”

Trevante picks up his pace as he hurries back from the trash room hoping to put out of the eventual fire that was about to happen.

“Hey, Ciara … hey, thanks…”

“I told you I got you…” Ciara winks and adds an extra switch to her walk back into her apartment.

“Yo, Tre. Who this bi-”

Ciara smirks as she walks back into her apartment.

He is so trash.

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